Fantasy Khorys

[amb3rlin]

Preface:

A Hero's Calling
​

As the portal closes, the torches slowly flicker back to life. A dazed group of beings, male and female, elf, half-elf, dwarf and human, are the only evidence of powerful magic that just took place. The room is longer than it is wide, with old stone floors, and large wooden beams supporting its high ceiling. It has the feel of an old church in both its design and the sensation that it harbors some solemn power. The air is cold, and frost clings to the outside of the stained glass windows that decorate the far wall. A hundred candles in two circular wooden chandeliers give light to steps at the head of the room, and cast a gentle glow on the other-wordly figure who stands there.


She is a tall creature, with skin the color of lavender and close cropped silver hair. Her midnight wings are so large the longest feathers just brush the floor. She wears a flowing white robe that is tied about the waist with a golden cord. Her lips are pursed in a thin line, and her gray eyes hold a pained urgency. Still, her features are delicate and beautiful.


"Welcome to Khorys." Her voice has a musical quality to it. It is smooth and beckoning. "I am afraid you are all in great danger, but I am here to help you."


Her words possess a rich quality, encouraging the hearer to listen and impressing on them a focus to her meaning. She begins to walk toward the group and extends her hands, inviting them to rise and listen. Her wings are like a royal cape behind her as she gracefully approaches them and continues her appeal.


"Your intention was to partake in a game, but in actuality you have responded to my call for aid. Khorys is a world in duress. I have used my power to summon you here to secure our survival, and so doing, your own."


In the distance there is a loud rumble, like the sound of an avalanche. The winged maiden's eyes flicker to the windows before returning to those who had just been pulled through the portal.


"I am The Oracle. This place is an ancient magical stronghold, and I have bound myself to it in order to gather enough power to summon you. We are in the Great Northern Coast, a place where magic is strong and the winter is endless--"


Another rumble, this time much closer, interrupts her. She begins to speak a little quicker, and her tone grows more serious.


"In the east a terrible power is growing. A demonic sorceress calling herself Moireach is creating an army and seeks to conquer all of Khorys. Already she has taken the Dwarven city of Padrig, and likely many of the Dwarven ruins. None in Khorys, even myself, can match her strength. I have sent many agents before you, but all have failed. . ."


At this point a terrible wail fills the air. It is so near and loud that the glass shakes in the window panes. The sound of huge stomping feet sends shudders through the keep. The Oracle is among the group now, and gently rests her hand on the arm of the tall young warrior. As she speaks the sounds of the dangerous creature indicate that it is getting nearer. The Oracle has to raise her voice in order to be heard above the sounds of wailing and destruction.


"The gods have granted me a vision of a possible future in which Moireach is defeated. We must call forth an ancient Protector of Khorys! Ab'nuen is his name, and long ago he saved our world from certain doom! He has been gone for five thousand years, but I have the knowledge of how to return him to us. By his power he can defeat Moireach, save Khorys, and restore you to your world. Brave heroes, you have answered my call for a reason! Moireach knew I would have to come the Keep in order to create the portal which brought you here, and we have sprung her trap. This monster is after us at her command--"


Large wooden doors at the opposite end of the hall are nearly shattered as the looming terror beyond them attempts to break through.


"You must defeat this beast in order to secure the Keep! You were signing up to be heroes . . .use the weapons, armor, and magic that you now have and defend yourselves!"


With a shriek, a towering ice golem blasts its way past the doors and lumbers into the room. It had been bent over in order to navigate lower levels of the Keep, but now raises itself to full height, easily reaching twenty feet tall. Eerie violet lights seem to be its strange eyes, and they soon lock on to the group. With a cry as shrill as the coldest winter wind, it lunges forward and attacks!

(image credit)
​

 

[Azaeleah]

Maya had been excited, elated even to find a new game to get into after so much time away from any sort of computer fun. She had eagerly made her avatar, a human Druid. She loved the idea of the mundane human being one of the more unique classes. The lack of a CC system had bummed her out, but she'd pressed forward thinking it might be text based or something.


Then everything had gone black. The next thing she could remember was waking up on a cold stone floor in an unfamiliar place, with rough fabric wrapped around her hips and her chest. Robes made of a strange hemp like material, and a weight similar to make up all over her face. She didn't yet see the tribal paint designs decorating her face, arms, and legs.


The oracle appeared just as she managed to stand up swaying slightly. She hadn't gotten a word out before the woman had dumped the biggest plot expo since the hobbit's opening scene she's ever heard. Granted, it was more terrifying than interest peaking than the former. She blurted out a startled "WHAT?!" Without thinking the moment she finished and the monster appeared. Her heart rate increased and there was a moment where she was frozen unsure what to even do. She frantically looked around taking in the sight of the others. "Wh-what do we do?!"

 

[Circus]

The nachos were warm and satisfying on the tongue, a bit of cheese dribbling from the chin wiped clean with the back of a hand. The man in front of the monitor customized his character with a few clicks of the mouse. He set his character to match his real-world image, long dark hair, a bit of stubble and decent physical shape. The half-elv was a nice touch too. His name too was a play on his real-world name; "Bolto Magmanus" had a decent ring to it. Of the classes available, Bard sounded intriguing: a blend of magic and combat that supports the party through music. Interesting enough, he thought. A confirmation box appeared on screen was clicked without hesitation.


Suddenly, the room filled with light, causing the man to fall, nachos cascading around him like cheesy, delicious stars. The air in his lungs escaped from his mouth and a whirl of force lifted the man from the ground, hurling him towards a mysterious tunnel of light and noise that seemed to pull from all directions.


Then nothingness.


The shade over his eyes began to fade, torches bringing the room to life and air back in his lungs. Bolto awakened. Dazed, he grabbed hold of a nearby pillar to support himself. He was in a church of sorts, well lit by candles that smelled of frost and filled with magic. Magic? How do I know what magic feels like? he thought.


His head rang. He shuffled to a nearby wall, still using the pillar as support, and peered out the window. It was dark, the only visible object was the man reflected back at him. He looked like himself, yet surprisingly different. His eyes were now green and his ears were short and pointed. His face felt fleshy, his chest and back too, but the sword on his hip was new, cold and rigid. Bolto unsheathed the first few inches of the blade, running a finger over its sharp edge. He felt a prickle and a drop of crimson blood fell from his thumb. "Its real," the words escaped from his mouth like the soul departing from the body.


Bolto turned and saw several others in the room experiencing much of the same as he, confusion, excitement, dismay, it was all so shocking. The most shocking of all was the large angel-like creature at the head of the room, breath-taking and utterly beautiful. What she spoke of was too confusing to make sense of, a large sound approaching after nearly every word. Finally, the source made itself known and burst through the keep doors, bringing with it an ice-cold chill and fear.


The Bard fell, retreating as far as he could from the monster. It was all too sudden, his body moved on its own, instinct to stay alive said to get as far away as possible. But there was no retreat, no exit and no where to run. Bolto glanced at his companions, some had taken to arms, others still taken from confusion. If this were a game, the obvious option is to fight.


Bolto looked down and drew his sword nervously, holding it before him. It was a skinny thing, sharp on one edge and meant for piercing, yet it felt like he had held it all his life. He flicked his wrist and a violin appeared before the Bard, a body of ebony black and strings of azure blue, a crystal fixed to its head. Bolto drew his sword across the strings, producing an invigorating sound, a yellow glow surrounding Bolto as he played. As the music filled the room, the yellow aura transferred to the rest of his companions, surrounding them, giving them the will to fight and boosting their physical traits and defense.


I don't understand why, but my body is responding to my will to fight. I seem to know what I must do. It's strange, while I'm playing, I no longer feel fear and I want to convey that through the song. I want my companions to bravely face this foe and defeat it. Fight! and march forward! "[Champion's Prelude]!"

 

[Silsa]

Lorelei typed in the information with practiced ease, her hands gliding over the keyboard as she customized every little thing about her character. Khorys was a game she had been awaiting for quite some time not, so of course when she finally got to creating a character, she decided to do everything right from the get go. Nachos slowly but surely disappeared from the plate and into her mouth as she changed the appearance of the elf, hey it's cliche but if she would going to be magic oriented then it was the best choice, to suit her own. She had to give her parents credit, Lorelei was a cool name, so she kept it as is when she finished fine tuning her sorceress.


Her cursor hovered the confirmation box for a moment as she released a breath she didn't know she was holding. Again, she was about to be born in another fantasy, hers for the taking. Here she would slay countless monsters, finish countless quests and make a life within the game totally separated from her own in the real world. That would be fine, it was blatant escapism, she knew, but it didn't matter.


In the end it was just a game.


She clicked the button.


Almost immediately she wished she hadn't. She prided herself at creating the perfect gaming environment when she first started to seriously play games. The room's temperature, factoring the size, the heat from herself and the consoles as well as whatever war foodstuff she had on hand, was calculated to the degree, a nice 25 centigrade, give or take half a unit. One moment, she was comfortable and the next it was so damn cold.


The next strange thing was the headache. Now that hadn't happened in the longest time, her mind already used to either sleepless nights, or hours of staring into a screen and screaming for the boss to just perish. What afflicted her had her in a daze, but she was lucid enough to lose the slightest bit of composure when she saw the surrounding area. "Why is there ice in my room?" She mumbled dumbly for a moment before everything finally sunk in. She looked to the left, seeing the archaic features of a broken cathedral she currently sat- no- laid in. She looked to the right to see the very same thing.


She was in the game.


She read up on scenarios like this, being called to another world to save it, and the special effects it had on the body. She was more disappointed by the process of getting to the game though, she was hoping for a more active partner, like someone coming from the screen and pulling her in, or the magic circle glowing as she was whisked away and into this new world. All she did was close her eyes for a second and she was thrown into this freezer.


There was an NPC who gave an exposition dump while something big came closer and closer, she really just ignored that for the moment, she could just 'replay' it later in her head, as she checked herself and the surrounding area. There was a... je ne sais quoi, about the place, something she felt but just couldn't put her finger on. It was a blanket too thin, something she could feel being there but it did nothing to curb the cold. Maybe a bit of fire would have been nice, but she really didn't want to deal with the water everywhere, so she bit her lip and endured it.


Then came the golem. It screams like girl, she should know, and charges in with abandon only found in the dumbest of monsters. Even as people panicked, some drew weapons, she didn't really pay attention to everyone, but she did the most obvious thing in the world; She ran to the back of the group for safety and checked what would be known as her stat window. Know thyself after all... She thought, skipping over most of it to find the skill section.


She needed to know what to do and how to do it quickly if she wanted to kill that thing before it killed her. A fire spell would really come in handy now.

 

[ARSENIC]

Fuuuuuuuuuuck.





There was no other word that would really convey the situation Carter found himself in nearly as poignantly as that. Despite how overused the word had come to be, it had been invented for a reason, and if there was any point in his life when it stood as a legitimate explicative worthy of the situation, now was it.


It had been less than ten minutes since the college dropout had stuffed his face with a handful of nachos, happily chomping away with a full mouth, some heavy metal on full blast, and about sixteen tabs open on his browser of various forums and news articles that held his interest for just long enough for the next one to entice him to jump ship. A popup. Khorys Online had finally downloaded and was ready to install. Time to patch. Closing all the tabs but one, Carter returned to google and decided to do a little research on the game. He was interested now, and for as long as he was, there was no cutting corners: He was going to master this game from square one, as was his nature. Until he grew bored of it, at least. The mechanics guide was surprisingly bareboned, but luckily the class abilities were more thorough, so he decided to browse those. You had your standard four, a couple more D&D classics: Druid, Bard, Paladin... and then a few oddballs - there was the rub. The Warlock looked interesting, but seemed too clunky, the Swashbuckler looked amazing but didn't have the power he was looking for, and the Warpreist just didn't have anything that stood out. That was when he saw it. Spellblade. Now that's what I'm talking about. It was squishy, sure, but it was elusive and had the all-important ability to mess stuff up, hard. That Mage Hand could prove mighty useful... assuming the engine of the game gave it as much flexibility as the description made it out to be.


And that was when it struck him that there were no gameplay videos, no third party reviews, nothing. Youtube was markedly dead on the subject, and even the on-site forums had just a few drawling posts claiming the client crashed before they could log in. Weird. At this point anyone with a casual interest would probably just save his time and go find another game, but for Carter, curious, curious Carter, that only made him all the more intrigued to try it out, motivated by that same, strange force that convinced forum-goers to defiantly yell "FURST!!11!" on every post ever. There was painfully little to explore in this day and age: Too late to explore the world and too early to explore the stars. So when the opportunity for a mystery presented itself, Carter was eager to claim it and ride it into the sunset like a boss.


And then it happened.


So, so much ow. Carter's head rung like a wildfire, buzzing with a mad, impatient insanity like a thousand little leprechauns banging at his skull from the inside. His first instinct was to realize he was sprawled on the floor like a passed-out drunkard, and decided to pull himself to his feet, pressing his palm against the floor to lift... and bang, down he went, right back to the floor, his arms caving in under the incredible pain with a loud, forced exhale, deciding that this was his life now as he begrudgingly accepted his fate as a living rug. Somehow, though, as the music began, the pain began to subside and his strength returned. Carter had experienced the inspirational power of a sick riff firsthand, but this was ridiculous. It felt like an unexplainable compulsion, like his body responded on its own, reinvigorated and pumped, finally allowing him to lift himself off his feet far enough to take a good look at the fact that he seemed to have undergone a complete and utter wardrobe change like some kind of magical girl anime.


It was mostly leather - dark brown and tanned, running over his torso like a suit, belted over what seemed like some kind of linen tunic over his front, with fingerless gloves. Looking lower the leather seemed to continue as the suit hung like a coat over a bandolier, a belt, with a sword sheathed along it, and a pair of pants and worn leather boots. He actually looked pretty damn good, in a sort of ruggedly handsome sort of way. There was- wait, he had a sword?! Why in the blazes did he have a-


SKREEEEEEEEE


Oh.


Oh shit.


Having spent the duration of the Oracle's little exposee hugging the floor, Carter had remained thoroughly clueless until the massive, behemoth of a golem decided to make its appearance with its terrifying shriek, suddenly coming to terms with the fact that he was in the freaking game. This was huge. The implications were mind-shattering. There were questions to be answered, research to be done, plans to design. Technology that harnessed whatever this was could be- Carter, Carter, time and place. Let's focus on, you know, not dying for now. Wide-eyed idealism can wait.


Grabbing the hilt of the sword, he pulled it free of its scabbard as the metal sung, revealing the beautiful, runed blade - the mirrored edge glimmering triumphantly in the dim light. Damn, he looked badass. He tapped the blade over his chest with a mental command and the blade let out a smoky, erupting exhale as Carter designated its element for the foreseeable future as brilliant fire. Back home was shame, back home was a two-by-two studio apartment he could barely pay for with a job that drained him dry. And this land, whatever it was, still held fast to the reason he gave it a try. This was an adventure, and he was a pioneer. This was something different. A change. An ocean of possibility. And when life gives you the ocean...


you dive.

 

[Yanipurr]

Niji yawned as the last few percent of his download was loading, he always hated the last ten percent of any download. It could go up to ninety in a second but for those last ten percent it would take forever no matter what the download was. Taking a look at his note in front of him he slightly smiled as he ticked them off "Large amount of caffeine filled drinks, check. Stupidly loud headphones, check. Large amount of coffee plus coffee maker che...Not check. Damn it always the thing I forget to stock up my coffee." Niji slightly muttered. "HEY JOHN, GRAB ME SOME COFFEE WOULD YOU!" Niji shouted, he lived with two people John and Cassie. Cassie was an odd ball most would think a girl living with two guys would be awkward but not her, sure they were some awkward moments but Cassie always played it like it was nothing. The three were more like two brothers and a sister and they have been some of Niji first friends since he came to America and still are. "HELL NO GET CASSIE TO!" John replied the causing Niji to sigh why didn't he ask Cassie in the first place who knew. "HEY CASS..." Was all Niji got out before a reply was already being said. "Already on it, God since when did you get so lazy." Cassie said walking into Niji room along with a large packet of coffee ground. "You know I always liked you more than John." Niji said smirking as Cassie replied with a "Yeah yeah." Before leaving the room.


Turning back to face his screen he noticed it was the dreaded number 99 percent, causing a large sigh to escape Niji mouth once again. Slumping back in his chair he let out a yawn. He decided to start brewing some coffee, switching on his coffee machine he started to make some coffee before hearing a satisfying sound, a sound that showed his download was complete forgetting about his coffee Niji ran to his chair like a child would at Christmas and he jumped into it. Shutting his eyes and taking a large breath Niji smiled as he opened his eyes he was annoyed to have forgot about the next stage...Patching OH THE JOYS.


Standing back up the once excited Niji slowly walked over to his coffee maker and saw it was done. "Well at least one things ready." Niji muttered to himself before he took a quick look at his computer only to be shocked the patching was already done, what type of witch craft was this Niji wondered before smiling. He placed his coffee next to his monitor as usual when he got a mmo top three things he did were stay up all night a level, farm the hell out of the game then raid. As a usual tank or healer he was always wanted in raids since most of the time tanks and heals were lacking everyone wanting all the dps classes BUT NOT NIJI Oh no he liked to big strong tank stood there taking damage for his team, he liked the feeling that if he didn't do his job his team would die a strange feeling to say the least.


Rubbing his hands together the now giddy Niji smirked as he loaded the game. Creating his character was simple making a human the closest it can possibly look to Niji proved that he lacked a certain creativity side that most people had. Now came the hard bit does he go for a tank or a healer, thinking back to his last game he played the healer so this time it was only fair he played a tank and as in jumping out at him a knight class whetted his appetite, alas he picked it.


Upon clicking the play button he was blinded. "What the fa-" Niji muttered and upon being un-blinded he repeated it slightly louder. "WHAT THE FAC-" Niji said although this time he was cut off by someone who was called the Oracle talking, she went on about how her world was in danger and now we were and some other things Niji didn't sign up for, Niji ignored most of what she said and simply looked at himself. He was wearing partial chain mail armor mostly covering his body, not only that but he had a sword and one big shield he fit the description of the knight already. Assessing what he could of the situation it seemed as in he was in the game he was signing up to play, was that even possible who knows sadly his thought train was put off by a giant monster.


Quickly looking around he noticed he wasn't alone were they all in the same boat, all from the real world all he knew was what the oracle said and that was to kill the monster and as a tank it was his job to go first. Running right into the monster he cut off its attack causing it to hit into his shield.


"I'm guess you all came here to play a game so lets play this like one." Niji said his voice was slightly strained from trying to hold whatever this thing was back.

 

[Icerex]

--Marcus





It had been a long and frustrating day at work. What with a string of extremely difficult clients, followed by Marcus scrapping a frustratingly complex part, he was fed-up and done. Thankfully, it was a Friday and Marcus had just remembered that he had recently picked up a new game during a Steam sale, an MMO this time. It was called Khorys and looked pretty interesting. He told his computer to start pre-installing the game via his phone, and picked up pizza for dinner on his way home.


While he was waiting for the game to patch, gotta love those day-one patches, he made himself comfortable with his pizza and some hard cider and started searching for some helpful info about the game. Surprisingly, nothing came up. Other than a small article about the upcoming launch of a new MMO called Khorys, Marcus couldn't find anything of use. How odd, he thought to himself. Must be pretty new, or the developers really didn't want anyone to spoil the game for new players. He shrugged, seeing that the game was almost finished patching, and put on his headset.


Marcus moved the mouse to the Launch button and clicked it. The screen froze for a second, then turned black, a strange logo filling the center of the screen. Marcus shivered, was it getting colder in here? Once the game finished loading, he was greeted with a surprisingly in-depth character creator. He smiled, Marcus had always liked a good character creator. He spent a surprising amount of time fiddling with the sliders and color options, finally settling on a look he liked, a gruff, battle-scarred human veteran. He hit finish and was taken to the class menu a few moments later. After perusing the list for a bit, he eventually decided to chose a Warlord, something that appealed to his love of tactics and military history, all while being a powerful player in its own right. Marcus was then prompted to chose a name for himself, a tough choice by any means. He thought for a moment, then typed in a string of characters and hit enter, dreading to see the hated words, "name already in use." He smiled as the name was accepted, Marcus Trajan. he perused the menu for a few more moments, making sure he hadn't missed anything, then hit the Play button. He shivered again as the game loaded, glancing at his second monitor, and noticing his CPU core temps. -3C, what the fuck! He had only a moment to ponder this impossibility before he was overcome with a mind-numbing cold, his fingers growing stiff and his head hitting the keyboard as he blacked-out.


Marcus awoke to the sound of muted voices, and a blinding headache. What the hell just happened. he thought to himself as he blinked away the last vestiges of darkness and looked around him. He was shocked to see that he was standing, along with a number of other figures, in what could only be described as a cathedral of some sort, complete with stained-glass windows and dank atmosphere. He was only able to study his surrounds for a few moments before his attention was drawn to the imposing and otherworldly figure standing before him.


The being, which was clearly female, began to speak, weaving a fantastical story of an evil demon sorceress bent on world destruction and how they had been called into this world to help defeat her. Marcus was filled with mixed emotions, confusion, disbelief, anger, and a touch of excitement. Was this for real?


The being moved, seeming to float above the ground, coming to rest next to Marcus, and placing her arm on his armored shoulder. At that moment the air was shattered by a bone-chilling wail, sending a spike of fear through Marcus. He looked up at the being as she ended on a pleading note, commanding them to find a long-lost hero and revive them, ensuring the survival of this world. He swallowed and nodded, his arm seeming of its own free will to reach down and draw his sword from its sheath. He brought it up in a salute, turning to face this new threat, and settled into a ready stance, sword in front. The beast burst through the great wooden doors leading into the hall, tearing them from their hinges like cloth. Time seemed to slow as Marcus studied the beast. Ice Golem, moving to the right, fifteen meters-per-second, weakest portions are the shoulder and knee joints, frontal attacks are all but useless.


Weakness to fire and piercing attacks.


Marcus smiled. He had this. @Azaeleah "You!" He bellowed, pointing his sword at a cowering druid. "Try and slow that thing down, use vines or whatever you druids do." He glanced to his left, noticing a mage and a stunned-looking spellblade. @ARSENIC "Spellblade! Protect the mage so she can concentrate on firing at the golem." @Silsa "You, elf mage!" He called, gesturing at the golem. "Try and hit the shoulder or knee joints with a fire spell." Marcus looked around him. "Everyone else! Form a defensive perimeter and prepare for an attack!"

 

[Chisengen]

Edward,


Recreational gaming was something Edward hadn't experienced in a while. It was a welcome experience to simply enjoy a game without needing to worry about the programming or design of it. Edward had been scoping out details of the game for a few hours as the game downloaded, but he couldn't really find any details. This only added to his enjoyment as he awaited a completely fresh experience without any guides spoiling what the best strategies are. He decided to play one of the older installments of the Ultimatum series in the meantime, figuring it would help him get used to playing rpg's again.


When the game finally booted up Edward was rather shocked by the graphics. He remembered looking at the first jagged polygons of the playstation 1 in glee, but this was like nothing he'd ever seen. This game seemed a little too well made to simply slide under the radar, but in this day and age anything can happen he supposed. Edward scouted through the various character options and debated on choosing his race first. Humans were too simple and boring, he didn't want to play a tanking character so dwaf was unattractive, and elfs were always one of the most popular races in mmo's, so he chose to play a half-elf granting a little of the bonuses for being human and elf at the same time. It took him a really long time to decide on class. Classes were always the most important part to making characters and a bad choice could easily ruin things for his party. Edward skipped the dps classes since the majority of people would be playing them, and dwelled on the most supportive type of classes. After some deep thought and consideration he decided a wizard would be the most fun he could have, the versatility and power were well worth it in exchange for a slightly unruly spellcasting system.


Edward didn't care too much about how his character looked in game. Simply making sure he was a white male with white hair before starting up the game. This decision would prove to be a smart one later.


The game physically overloaded him somehow and he passed out in his chair. To a common passerby he probably looked like the usual old person snoring in their rocking chair...


He came to with a groan as he heard some woman talking. The voice was rather angelic and reminded him of a video game... wait a minute he was trying to play a video game earlier wasn't he? That's when he realized he was clearly in some sort of fantasy setting, his clothing was changed to various loose fitting robes and he could feel a book strapped onto his hip. He heard the woman's plot and smiled. It was filled so many common tropes that he couldn't help but grin. It reminded him of his earlier games and he quite enjoyed it. This must be some sort of lucid dream he was having, old age was probably getting to him and he must've gotten too tired while waiting for the download to finish he reasoned. Regardless, if this was a dream he planned to enjoy it to the fullest. He took a few safety steps back before preparing to cast a spell.


He quickly opened up his book and shuffled through the pages "I've got just the spell for this one!". He stopped at his defensive section and started to chant "Magis Arma!". Arcane energy began to surround the party members. It served as additional armor against attacks and could hopefully nullify or at least soften the impact the golem had on his teammates.

 

[WolfOfProphecys]

Frost had had a bad day. Not only had she got up late, far too late for her work, but it had been pelting with rain outside. Deciding to call into the small pet shop, she had explained her problem to her employer, who had then proceeded, for ten minutes, to howl at her down the phone about responsibility and the need of a good alarm. He had told her to come in early for the next week, and stay late each night, if she wished to keep her dead end job. He had then slammed the phone down, and Frost had been left, stood in the middle of her small apartment, shocked.


Deciding then that nothing could be done about her job for the moment, she instead settled down at her desktop computer, a gift from her father. Switching it on, the thing was rather old but it worked fine, she looked eagerly at the screen, only to find the Khorys, a game she had been looking forward to, still had 5 more minutes of download time. Sighing, she disappeared into the small kitchen of her flat, moving around things in the cupboard. Finding a old pack of nachos, she happily prepared them in a bowl, nibbling on one as she returned to her desk. She grinned eagerly as she found that the game had downloaded, and excitedly clicked the button to begin it. She watched as it opened, and she studied it as she nibbled at a nacho, eyes gleaming.


She smiled as she began the game, selecting her character as an elf, reminded of elegance and grace when she eyed the artwork in the background. She created the name to be her own, though not her real name, and made the elf almost like her, with white hair and blue eyes, though no artwork was shown on an elf for her to judge if this looked okay or not. She had hardly noticed the temperature drop when she had begun the game, but as she clicked the button to confirm her character, she looked up, noticing it had indeed dropped to a freezing temperature. She shivered as the cold lowered further, and then passed out, the world going black around her.


She reopened her eyes to find herself somewhere else entirely. She frowned, looking up at the angelic creature. It was only halfway through the womans speech when it had clicked. She was in the game. Looking down at herself, she confirmed this. She was wearing what seemed to be a black shirt, and what felt like leather trousers, with black boots, clearly made for manoeuvrability. Her left arm's wrist also had a archers arm guard upon it, tied tightly around it. A emerald cloak decorated her back, falling behind her, and a quiver was tied around her back, its strap across her chest, slightly hidden by the cloak. A bow was held in her hand, its handle long and black, decorated with a golden phoenix flowing upward, tails at its base, beak at its tip.


She turned in shock as something came through the doors, noticing now other people around her

 

[Azaeleah]

Maya was startled by the man yelling at her, but she managed to snap out of her stupor because of it. She looked up at the monster and narrowed her eyes. She took a step back before darting further away from it, she turned back and hoping for the best rose her hands up in the air. Her eyes going white and the ground under it starting to shake as vines arose around it's feet to try and hold it in place.

 

[Silsa]

At the back of the class, it looked that they were rallying enough to at least buy her enough time to flee if worst comes to worst, Lorelei simply stood in one of the rarest states she ever found herself in. After such a long time of monotony, and even after experiencing the sheer ecstasy that was playing an RPG and, excuse the language, being so undeniably amazing at soloing even the most challenging of dungeons, she had not once felt something this close to befuddlement.


She knew how to solve high order calculus, either differentials, integration, or matrices, on the fly, while half her attention was being taken up by a level 200 ultraboss on a mobile console. She could solve a problem regarding everything, from the advanced physics of circuitry to the exact size of the very atoms that made up the universe, yeah, doing something like that is apparently possible. Her logic, if it ever reached the point where she had to use it, was impeccable that she would be able to dissect a statement of opinion and prove to others if it either true or false depending on her stance regarding the subject. She was smart, to the extent that she could do half the things students cringe at doing in her sleep, and as such she was never confused.


"This is so Overpowered." Lorelei mumbled to herself in a totally flat manner, completely unsure about what to feel in the situation.


A bit of background: The Sorceress, or Sorcerer, or Sorc, was a wild card of sorts; not as versatile and popular as the king of tabletop, the Wizard and at the same time not as specialized as, say the Barbarian. It was one that catered to a specific branch of magic, forcing the users of such a class to be supremely creative in order to make the most out of a paltry palette of spells. One thing the Sorc did have over the Big W was the fact that it could cast, in some games faster, in some games more times, and in some games both, when compared to the more popular wizard, and thus was more geared to battle when compared to one that could be called a class of most seasons, physical combat of the Wizard was still inferior even to the Sorc.


So imagine her surprise when, after selecting an elemental type sorceress, the school of Evocation for the wizards, she was stunned to see the sheer power in her spells, as well as the effects of the skill she gained after selecting the class. Out of reflex, she selected the spell that covered fire manipulation first, but when she read the description of the skill, as well as the effect learning it had on her abilities, she just had to let all composure into the wind and let her jaw drop.


Her confusion stemmed from the dilemma she faced: Should she feel good that her class was just so awesome or bad that, the Sorc being quite an average class, the other classes could very well have better skills and abilities when compared to hers?


She shook her head, there was no used crying over spilled milk especially when said milk would probably have been ice cream at that point... wait then that would be an entirely different situation! Ice cream was precious, the perfect combination of cold and hard with sweet and smooth, to cry over wasting such a thing was just natural- bad thoughts, just get back to the golem





The giant lumbering piece of ice was just enough to shake her from her mental rant and send her mind into... close to normal working capacity.


Let's start with some more heat. It was part of her passive skill, so she required no incantation to work some basic magic. With a simple flourish, the ground around her began to change, what was once ice was quickly turning back into water while a steady stream of white mist began to rise as the warmth followed along with it. In but a moment she had a plume of fire embracing her form, the heat comforting instead of scalding in the midst of such extreme cold. Her black robes, that explained the heat escape, did not burn even as the flames licked at the fabric, instead it began shifting as the heat rose, lending her the enigmatic air of a conjurer as her magic began fueling itself, the power of her original skill manifesting itself.


Her eyes landed on the Ice Golem as soon the one who was also commanded by the general, a druid or witchdoctor perhaps, called out any life that still remained in the frozen earth to restrain their foe. She felt the magic being added to her own strength as roots, ancient, gnarling limbs of long dead trees grasping at the legs of the frozen construct, while the thorns each vine held allowed the giant no quarter despite its slippery exterior. It was an impressive display for such a novice to completely restrain a creature, but even she could see the wood failing.


Now if only there was a way to keep the giant restrained while attacking it... oh wait, there was.


"Aeither, here is my command..." She loathed the chant, though she supposed that as a Sorceress it was a far shorter aria than what Wizards would use. "Frozen Flash."


She did not scream as media portrayed it but even with a whisper soft enough for only her to hear, the magic crystallized as she desired. At once, the deteriorating roots that kept the golem from breaking free and continuing its approach were frozen to the very core, rendering them so incredibly hard that they would last for at least a ten more seconds while the heat from those roots raced to her at astounding speeds, coalescing into an orb above her as she studied the golem.


The two stage spell, [Frozen Flash], a weapon that took away pure heat, supercooling a target while that heat was used to strike at an opponent. There was no rule about taking heat from one thing a striking another.


Golem: extremely tough exterior, almost immune to normal forms of damage. Only weakness being... With a thought the beam flew true, an impossible attack just a bit smaller than her thumb in diameter, struck the golem in the eye, where the violet light began glowing. For a moment, she could not see what occurred as the beam of pure heat faded as, a cloud of steam hid the golem from view.

 

[ARSENIC]

The adrenaline rush of his commitment had already engulfed him in a sort of mental stasis, blocking out the warlord's command as Carter's mind seemed to stand almost still, his feet moving on their own, his blade trailing behind him as he charged the beast with a calculating, surgical, single-minded aggression. He would be its end. This would be the end of his pussyfooting, the end of his old life, the beginning of the new. This was his phoenix egg, his masterpiece, his renaissance.


As the massive frozen beast lurched forward, Carter's fury was unbridled. As the vines enveloped the golem's legs and a torrent of flame erupted over its front, Carter's passion was unhindered. As its massive, staggering arms came down in a slow, devastating blow, Carter's resolve was unmoving. And just as the creature's slow, annihilating blow was to connect... the spellblade blinked out of reality, as if deleted entirely without a trace... only to reappear behind its back an instant later, letting out a ravenous, cathartic roar as his blade tore back behind him like a whirlwind, the sword erupting in a powerful pulse of brilliant, burning mana before tearing through the beast's back with a horizontal slash, opening up a wide, burning gash as the wound burned wildly, the residual, resonating mana erupting over its shoulders in a halo of pain, eliciting another shrieking cry, the beast flailing wildly with a loud


SKREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE


Carter fell to the icy floor on his knees, scrambling to his feet in an attempt to back off before the golem's pained rage, the wildfire of mana still raging over its back, allowed it to tear free of the frozen vines. Yeah, Carter was definitely getting the hang of this. And he loved it.

 

[Circus]

The battle was raging. Between fiery spells and burning slashes, the Bard weaved his way through the battlefield and positioned himself behind the ice golem. As the monster had let out a belting cry, Bolto took the opportunity and switched from support to attack. The music had stopped but the yellow aura surrounding him had yet to diminish. He lunged and sent three piercing strikes for the back of the knee. The attack connected and the golem moaned in agony as it fell.


Bolto turned to face the monster and was greeted with a wild strike from the beast. The Bard did his best to block the attack and was sent flying through the gaping hole in the front of the church where the golem had made its entrance. He landed outside in a pile of white snow speckled red with blood. The yellow aura surround him faded along with any energy Bolto may have had. I could just lie here in the snow for a minute and regain my strength, he thought. But..., He reeled to his side and stood warily, using his sword to prop himself, inching toward the battle still raging.

 

[Icerex]

--Marcus


Marcus watched as the battle unfolded before him, seeing each member of the party do their best to take down the monster. He stayed back for the most part, using his abilities to enhance the others in their attacks.When both the spellblade and sorceress each launched a pair of successful attacks on the creature, weakening it immensely, Marcus could sense that now was the time to finish this. He dashed to the side of the golem, his studded boots pounding into the soft stone of the floor, and took position behind, and slightly to the left of the beast.


Marcus glanced to the side, noticing that the bard had suffered a direct hit from the golem. "Come, we must finish this quickly!" He spoke to the man, gesturing for him to prepare to attack the creature from the back. Just one more, he thought to himself, looking around. "Spellblade!" Marcus shouted, seeing the man still close by. "We three will attack the beast as one," he continued, gesturing at the bard and himself. "On my count!"


@ARSENIC


@Circus

 

[amb3rlin]

The Oracle had drifted to the far side of the room, back up the steps to a stone landing. The candles in the chandeliers flickered as the golem roared and the battle raged. A door in the corner creaked open, revealing a frightened group of servants huddled in the spiral staircase beyond. With graceful strides the Oracle approached them. She said something and carefully closed the door again. Her eyes were hooded with concern as she watched the battle. It was clear she was unsure how the adventurers would fare against the creature.


The bard, the druid, and the warrior were the first to react, closely followed by the spellblade, the sorceress, the wizard, the archer, and the warlord. Their movements were choppy at first, but the adventurers came together quickly. The temperature in the room plummeted due to the presence of the golem. It pressured the adventurers into using their new skills and weapons.


Despite the damage it had taken, particularly from the successful attack by the spellblade, the golem landed a hit on the bard, flinging him into the snow in the courtyard beyond. Injured and partly blinded, the golem was flailing now, becoming frantic. Its cry changed, becoming deeper and more hollow. Snow from the courtyard began to swirl and twist, answering the golem’s call and rushing to heal it.


The Oracle raised her hands and sent a river of healing light to the bard. A cry of pain escaped her lips and she cut the spell off prematurely. Her power had been drained by the effort of bringing the adventurers to Khorys. Her healing spell was weak, but it was still something. A pained look crossed her face as she realized she would not have the strength to heal anyone else.


Lurching to his feet after his own minor healing, the golem’s glowing violet eyes quickly roved the room. Enraged, the creature lifted its arm and fired a volley of icicles into the group. It was now injured and angry.

 

[ARSENIC]

Scrambling back to his feet, Carter was able to take just in time to get front row seats to "The Maiming Of The Bard", act one. And as the beast began to lurch itself forward, forming wicked, jagged spikes for act two, the warlord's incessant yelling becoming impossible to ignore, the legionnaire-themed drill sergeant's words seemed to begin to affect him. Suddenly his focus heightened, and the vulnerabilities of the golem seemed to light up like flares. The animation looked familiar from his research. This guy was a warlord.


The charge was easy, his sword practically throwing itself to its mark - no doubt another one of the warlord's tricks. With no need to worry about accuracy, the spellblade swung with a wild, reckless abandon, chanelling his own will purely and exclusively into pure, raw power, his blade erupting into a ravenous inferno as the spellblade let out a ravenous war-cry that echoed through the cavernous cave, coming down like a vengeful angel with all the speed and merciless power of the furious, purifying flame, leaving a brutal, sizzling gash in a diagonal run along the length of the golem's body, but not before its wickedly sharp icicles were launched in full flight.

 

[Circus]

A warm, soothing glow surrounded Bolto like an embrace. His wounds sealed and vitality poured in him once again. The bard entered the fray and was signaled for a synchronous attack. He lunged, the tip of his sword piercing the would-be heart of the golem at the same time of the spellblade's burning slash. Bolto went straight through the beast and landed on the other side, a gaping hole remained behind, sizzling. His attack was far stronger than it had been, a trick one of his allies possessed no doubt.


With the last group effort, the beast was felled. It let out a cry of agony before perishing. Bolto sheathed his rapier and clenched his hand. He had strength in this world and it was coursing through his living and breathing heart. He did not pay much mind to the Oracle at first, but now she had his full attention. Why was he here? What did he need to do? And, by the end, will he want to return home? Bolto turned to the Oracle with baited breath for some semblance of an answer.

 

[Icerex]

--Marcus


Marcus lept, attacking at the same time as the two other warriors. Throwing all of his considerable force into the thrust, he brought his momentum to bear, sinking his sword hilt-deep into the golems neck and twisted violently. Hammered on all sides, the beast tottered for a moment, then came crashing down with a low groan. Marcus rolled out of the way, coming to rest a distance away and standing up. Marcus smiled slowly as he realized that it was over, the monster was dead. And what a battle! His blood still pumped in exhilaration and the thrill of the fight. He looked over to where the Oracle stood, giving her a small salute before sheathing his sword and looking around to see if anyone was injured.

 

[Silsa]

One and two, The Spellblade's strike, as vicious as it was, seemed to be more effective against the creature than her own, of course a blazing firestorm focused into a blade and unleashed point blank would be more powerful than an equally powerful, possibly, pillar of flame flung from several meters away. Three, The warlord, more of a battle bard so to speak in Lorelei's own eyes, cried out once more in an attempt to command the flow of battle, his voice an echoing beacon of strength as well as a refuge for those who lacked the mental fortitude to act alone in such a crisis. His very presence was empowering, though as a being of magic, she supposed that she was one of the few who really knew it. The effect though, the welling up of bravery and will within even her as well as the form of the golem itself lighting up like a Christmas tree, could not be denied, and she welcomed such a change. Four, Even the Oracle herself joined in their efforts to slay the beast, or at least to keep them alive, as magic she didn't fully comprehend restored vitality to the Bard, if only being somewhat effective.


Torn and battered as it was, the golem refused to remain idle crying out it rebellion and indignant fury as the snow coalesced around its icy form in an effort to restore any lost vitality. The healing was minor, but at that point it was enough or maybe even unnecessary as the golem slowly lifted its arm and a machinegun volley of icicles sped towards every single one of them, each sliver of frost hurtling through the air at speeds that even she had to marvel at being as far away from the creature as possible. The Spellblade himself was safe, having evaded the attack with a counterattack, once more carving a smooth gash along its form, though all the rest of them were in for some measure of pain if the icicles struck true.


That would not happen. Possessing no piece of mind to prepare an aria, Lorelei willed the magic that flowed through her into existence, the twisting threads that made up the great tapestry of all that was and is and would be obeying begrudgingly as her command was received. The earth was cold and hard, encased it eons of ice and snow, there was no patch of ground that did not contain the infusion of the cold, but permafrost was still earth and therefore moved at her will. The air itself was also possessed with the deathly chill of ice, the perfection of death in stillness, but the wind answered the call, melding with earth in a flurry of twisted whirlwinds that enveloped each her companions in a blurred cloud of movement, momentarily freeing them from the lethargy of the cold and air and forcing the icicles aside, each of then gliding past their intended targets and missing by a hair's breadth.


The final blow was dealt after, through by who, she did not know. The Bard flew in a rage, helped along by her own subtle enchantment and struck the golem through the proverbial heart. When the core of the golem could be in the chest or the head, she was not exactly sure, but the Bard crashed through a second after the Spellblade struck, leaving a gaping hole in the golem. He did that with a rapier of all things went beyond her logic, but if the creature was dead, she would not complain. From another angle, and simultaneous to the strike, the Warlord bellowed before beheading the golem with a mighty blow, ratcheting the being's head of after stabbing it through the neck. The beast fell the next moment, unleashing a final cry of anger before magic left it, leaving it another pile of ice like the countless others around them.


"Not bad for level one I suppose." Lorelei said out loud, a strangely calm voice gracing the ears of all who heard. It was probably and elf thing, "Oh, Oracle," She sang, approaching the being who retreated to the rear with her, "What must we do now?" It was still a game to her, so it stood to reason that after introfight, either an easy win or a hopeless boss fight, there was a quest just around the corner, all she needed to do was accept it.

 

[Chisengen]

Edward


This group of his sure showed some ferocity towards the golem. A series of attacks and spells from the group had managed to destroy what was once a fearsome enemy. It probably would have gone a bit smoother had Edward casted an extra spell or two, but he was too busy watching his teammates figure out what they were all capable of. After the spectacle, he had a pretty good idea of what everyone's abilities were and what they specialized in. Once the battle was complete, Edward shut his book and let out a small sigh. Even if this was a dream he could still feel the vibrations from the various blows the golem suffered and it's heavy movements. He never had a dream this vivid, but believing in it would be completely irrational.


The other spellcaster said something he didn't quite expect "Not bad for level one" that statement reverberated in Edward's mind as he thought about it. It seemed this character believed this was just some sort of game. It didn't quite make sense though since that only ruined the immersion of his dream. It was then that he finally realised that THIS was the game Edward logged into earlier. It somehow transported him into the game itself and it seems the rest of the players are experiencing the same thing.


Edward took a few steps towards the oracle as he figured she had something important to tell them. This was far more than he signed up for, and his withered body wasn't exactly up to the test, but this was a game after all and if anyone knew how to succeed in one it would be him.

 

[ARSENIC]

Following through with his strike, and those of the bard and warlord, Carver began to feel the beast's lumbering body fall forward, and he, still driving the blade through its back, fell with it, flailing his hands madly in a wild, desperate attempt to maintain balance as the enormous creature fell face-down into the ground with a loud tremoring THOOM, the rest of the party getting a glimpse of the triumphant swordmage's arms flying about like a maniac before he regained his composure, his eyes still glued to the massive, icy corpse - if one could call it that - beneath him, giving the block of ice a solid kick just to make sure.

 

[amb3rlin]

The ice golem was felled, and his final attack foiled. Snow blew in from the broken door that led to a spacious courtyard, and even after the golem's defeat the temperature in the large hall was still frigid. The Oracle strode among the adventurers like an ethereal queen, her head held high. She only had eyes for the remains of the creature. Upon reaching it, she stretched out her hand and a violet fire formed at her touch, consuming the icy shell that was the golem. Her face was solemn as she absorbed its power.


A satisfied sigh passed from her lips when she concluded, as though she had just enjoyed a delicious meal. She was calm and sure again, and turned to survey the state of her adventurers and the large hall. Several candles had been extinguished, icicles had pierced the wooden beams, a few panes of stained glass had been shattered, and the wind was bringing in snow.


"You have overcome your first challenge in Khorys." Once again her words had a musical quality to them. Something about her voice was reassuring. She smiled, grateful. "Level one. . . yes, of course. The game you all signed up to play, and now you live it. Let us call this level one then. You must proceed to further levels if we are to release Ab'nuen and save Khorys from the vile grasp of Moireach. She is powerful, a creator and controller of golems, a long lost magical craft that has not been seen in Khorys for seven hundred years. I believe her true power is yet to be seen, however."


Her pale eyes turned toward the bard, whom she had healed during the battle. They were sorrowful and full of concern.


"You have been through much today, my adventurers. To travel between worlds can take a great toll on the body, especially those of you who are not human here. I have prepared for many months to come to this place and anchor myself to it, to draw power from these ancient stones enough to call you forth. But I have not labored to bring you to an icy ruin. Moireach has unknowingly given me the power to restore this place."


The Oracle closed her eyes and spread her wings to their full length. It was an impressive stance, made all the more imposing as she began to radiate magical power. An invisible pulse filled the room, seeping into the stone walls, the timber ceiling, the flickering candles. The door in the corner creaked open to reveal what looked like children and now were clearly seen as gnomes. They began to enter the room and stare in open curiosity at the adventurers.


The splintered door mended itself, the candles began to light again. A fire was born in the large hearth. Warmth entered the room, and with it a heavy feeling of fatigue for the adventurers. The gnomes inched forward, their faces friendly, their arms outstretched.


"Go with them. They are my loyal servants and they will take you to your new quarters. This is our Keep, our Mountain Cathedral, and it will be your home here in Khorys. Rest and we will meet here in the morning to discuss your quest."

​

A gnome guided each adventurer through large side doors, leading further into the keep, away from the windy courtyard. They were taken along stone corridors, their walls lined with faded tapestries and paintings of ancient heroes. Stained glass windows of red and violet depicted images of Khorysian fables. Snowcapped mountains surrounded them, but the keep was now warm and restored, full of life as gnomes and the Oracle's magic worked to light fires, heat bathwater, and settle the adventurers in to their own rooms in the western tower.


Image Credit.

 

[Circus]

Magic had brought them to this world and it had also repaired the chamber; the concept was fascinating and scary. The power the Oracle exhibited was paramount - Bolto looked at her with wayward suspicion; he had not fully trusted her motives quite yet. He understood his mission and the reason for his arrival in this world but something felt off. The Bard pushed the thought to the recess of his mind and followed the gnome to his chamber.


The gnome had walked through the bedchamber, it was built from stone, its walls draped with a fine fabric that was lost on Bolto. The bed looked extravagantly comfy and the room was filled with warmth from the hearth. The gnome stood by the door awaiting orders. It did not talk and when Bolto tapped the gnome's head and it responded with polite annoyance. "You're free to leave," he said watching the gnome scamper down the corridor and out of sight.


The Bard fell onto the bed and was engulfed in plush comfort. A sigh escaped the man's mouth. This is all so surreal, he thought. This could still all possibly be a dream... Bolto pondered for a moment and then stood, drawing his rapier, flicking his wrist to summon his violin as his did before, a feat obviously impossible in the real world. The instrument was filled with the presence of magic and begged to be played. The sword glided across the strings producing a soothing melody. The events of the day replayed in the Bard's mind and was channeled into music that swept through the Keep. The summoning, the ice golem, the fiery magic, and the power of the Oracle were transcribed into music, feelings that reverberated between the walls. The sound was comforting and pleasing to the ear, like a mother's gentle kiss. Bolto, not one for instruments in the real-world, was somehow able to turn feelings into music through will alone. He did not bother questioning the rules of this world.


The day's fatigue had caught up to Bolto; he sheathed his sword and the magical instrument vanished. The Bard fell onto the bed and drifted to sleep.


Morning came quickly and Bolto rose to the sound of birds and an icy chill. The Bard dressed and found his way through the Keep. He passed the kitchen where a group of gnomes, dressed in proper chef attire, were busy preparing meals. He wandered in and grabbed a roll and was quickly shooed away by one of the gnomes. Bolto nibbled at the piece of bread as he wandered the Keep. He looked at the tapestries, stitched to show past heroes, he browsed the books of the library unable to read the words but was fascinated by the pictures, and eventually he found himself in the main hall where the golem was killed the night before. The room was immaculate, showing no signs of fighting. He was also not the first to arrive. Bolto took a seat on one of the benches and finished the heel of his breakfast. He leaned over to the person next to him with a smile, "I'm Bolto," he said with a pause. "The Bard. I don't think we had a chance to meet. Pleasure to meet you." He went to shake hands with the companion, waiting for the rest of the party to arrive and the rest of the Oracle's story.

 

[amb3rlin]

The gray winter sunlight turned into faded colors as it filtered into the Great Hall through the restored stained glass windows. A beam of crimson light illuminated the Oracle. She stood on the raised floor at the end of the room. Her delicate hands were clasped gently in front of her. The familiar look of pained urgency still adorned her elfish features. As the adventurers explored the Keep and slowly arrived at the Great Hall she gave them no heed. Her gray gaze was intent on a new figure: a middle-aged woman with wild brown hair and a face covered with freckles.


The woman and the Oracle were deep in conversation, and though it was very animated on the part of the woman it took place out of earshot of the adventurers in the room. The woman spoke quickly and gestured recklessly with her hands. She jerked her thumb in the direction of the adventurers and raised her eyebrows in disbelief. The Oracle remained solemn but steadfast.


The exchange continued for several minutes before the Oracle finally shook her head and left the room. She walked regally away, toward a far corner of the Keep. The woman rolled her eyes and approached the assembled adventurers. She was tall and wore a blue bandana that did little to tame her curly mane of hair. Knee-high leather boots, a loose white shirt, tan breeches, and more than one belt with gaudy brass buckles gave off a very pirate vibe. A pair of bronze colored goggles on her forehead and the lack of any armament were indicators that she was not a standard corsair, however.


"Right, let's do this then. You lot look rested enough after all that happened yesterday. I'm Soniah Driftwood, in service of Terris, and currently in partnership with the Oracle and. . . you." She gave them a wry smile. "The Oracle is busy being mysterious and magical and is still looking a bit peaky after her little bit of portal-between-worlds shenanigans, you think? So you're stuck talking to me."


She paused to rub her temples before continuing. Though her tone was not hurtful, it was clear she was not happy with being stuck with the task of interacting with the adventurers.


"Now raise your hand if you completely missed the part where the Oracle explained why she warped you all here."

 

[Silsa]

She woke up rather pleasantly, and everything outside her games were always such frivolous affairs, so she did not worry about 'forgetting' everything that happened in between the time the oracle repaired the hall to when the woman before her offered much needed information. "Yes please." It always paid to speak with respect, especially when seeking instruction. Still, she spoke with a gentle tone, one of a student earnestly seeking whatever knowledge a teacher might be willing to impart. This was somewhat like a quest information session or the help section if she thought about it, just a bit more... interactive than she was used to.