AMIA ARCHIVE • View topic - A Breath in the Silence: "Life" in Tarkuul

An ebony-skinned man wearing very little can be seen coming and going in Tarkul, meeting with Havoc and purchasing sets of kamas. He takes a look around every so often- wandering about and having a look at the city. Most of the time he can be seen wielding a spear with a glowing ret point. His dark appearance doesn't set him apart from those who venture into the city, but his overall style seems to be exotic, and not geared twoards the typical spellcaster look.

A woman, most recently-returned and generally garbed in black and red leathers, can now be seen within the City much more often. She is most often seen, however, frequenting the modest shop in the Tower when she is not coming and going. She is periodically accompanied by a hooded man, though generally much more shrouded than she.

Meanwhile, down in the crypts.

A dark elven figure, dressed only in black wrappings and a death-mask can often be seen about the library of Tarkuul. He is generally followed by a skeleton, who carries all of his books and a sack of things around. The figure keeps to himself, and goes about his own quest for knowledge.

After a few hours of rest since emerging from the crypts, Aurelius can be seen roaming about the library, collecting lore on the spell 'Knock' oddly enough.

A certain woman dressed in dark black leathers, decorated interspersely with red, strides through the gates of the City with her hood pulled up tight. Despite her hidden visage her gait, though subdued, betrays a rather jovial mood.

In light of the events that have transpired over the past few evenings Enforcer Fearian could be seen patrolling the city more frequently. Silent and ever vigilant in his duty he moved from time to time between the Living Court and the Castle, quietly searching the halls and watching the portal gate as if waiting for something, or someone.

Some of the undead laborers from the Court of the Living would seem to be taking a break from their tasks there, to take up mop and bucket and begin cleaning up the City in the wake of the wrath of the Bitch Queen.

*A familiar although absent face would be seen lurking about the library in tarkuul, seeming to return to his backlogged work schedule, he offer no explanation to common foke as to his absence, but simply continues where he left off spending most of his time gathering tomes before returning to the crypts to experiment*

Usually quiet, the Crypts of Tarkuul were crawling with life the last night..

As the portal circle in the castle twists and activates Grim steps through it in a triumphant manner donning his adventuring gear. Appearing behind him from the portal is a juggernaut that towers well above him. In its' arms it cradles a stone statue of sort, covered in burlap sacks.
Not wasting any time he strides across the court with the juggernaut following him closely, passing Emilie and the Castellan as he walks down into the crypts. With whatever he had with him.

Last night Kierno spent only in the Library... His skull mask was on his head, all the time, and it impossible to interrupt him in his work...
All around him there is a lot of books, scrolls and magical bottles, but who knows what is he doing...?

In recent evenings Enforcer Fearian could be seen frequenting the library both before and after his shift. Long nights and mornings he spent slowly pacing between the seemingly endless shelves, carefully reading over the spines of each book in turn as he made his way through them.

Each evening though would seem to end in similar fashion as the morning had, a brief scowl lingering at his displeasure and rather evident failure in finding whatever it was he had taken to searching for. On the second evening the lone search would notably come to a close with him tossing the doors of the Loremistress' office open.

"Good evening, Councilor... I've a job for you." A thin lipped smirk lingering.

Emilie has been keeping herself quite busy around the Living City, in the wee hours of the morning she vanishes into the temple where she is heard singing while working on what can be assumed as the temple's restoration. When not in meetings she roams every hall of the Living City, parchment and charcoal in hand. She takes note of seemingly random things as she traverses the corridors and always ends her day in the library. She spends her nights cataloging books and looking through the tomes.

As the green-eyed guard bursts into her office, she glances up from her tome with raised brows, and motions him in, uttering two simple words, "I'm listening.."

Late that night in the crypts the still waters are broken by a humanoid shape breaking the surface. The silence from the figure is unreal as it does not gasp for air upon reaching the surface but instead simply crawls out and heads for the Keeper's Chambers.
Moments later Grim exits the chamber, wiping blood blood his face before putting the mask on and pulling the hood up. Leaving the crypts with hasty steps.

*Valkin would be seen about, mostly keeping to the crypts as he experiments with a new gem-type in preparation for the next phase of some project he has been laboring upon. However this day it would seem he revisits the library, apparently seeking out tomes regarding positive energy*

All throughout the City, the unliving guards would be replaced one by one, by undead in gleaming adamantine armor. These Sentinels would step forth from the Crypts, replacing each of the guards in turn.

And down in the crypts a certain man while admiring his own work in the chamber would remain and view the changing of guards.

An absolutely infuriated Speaker was seen stalking out of the new Temple and to his private quarters, an avatar of writhing, violent shadows. Purple flames mark his passage, which flicker and die moments later.

A very lovely red-headed tiefling seems to have made herself at home in one of the rooms of the Tower. If approached, she is friendly and welcoming, and willing to answer most questions, though she vacillates on the reason for her being in the City.

If asked, she introduces herself as Vorel'isk Shaji, with the air of one used to wealth, privelege, and most importantly her own way. She's dressed only in the finest silks and butter-soft leathers, usually of scarlet, gold and black. Scales on the prominent points of her body glimmer with a ruby iridescence, and her skin and scales are both obviously well cared-for.

She can often be found in the library, devouring books about dragons and dragon lore, as well as, oddly, about theosophy. It seems gods have caught her interest.

Throughout the Court of the Undying the soft sounds of metal drilling into stone echoed forth from the efforts of a lone Shadovar arcanist and a dusty skeleton aiding him. Castle and Tower alike were not spared the pleasure of having a T-shaped boring implement shoved into their stonework and twisted about by the factitious strength of the corporeal undead. Once the tip had buried itself a digit's length into the stonework however, it was promptly pulled back along with an extracted cylinder of speckled mineral material. This precious product was tucked away by the arcanist into a pouch of flimsy gossamer that looked as though it could not possibly hold its contents, but nonetheless did. By the end of the cycle these curious acts of vandalism were complete and the buildings of Tarkuul were let to resume their stalwart watch of the sea and the passersby unmolested.

Usually ever polite and interested in a conversation, High Arcanist Blackwater is, as of yesterday, gliding
through the city, silent as death itself. Even the flies, lured by the scent of rott, usually following his
skeletal figure in swarms, seem to be gone for the time being, as if they were hiding, afraid of the
approaching tempest. Or perhaps they were preparing for the feast?

Every so often an unfamiliar figure would be seen in the city. Always clad in armor of a darker color, though not in a cliche fashion, with a simple cloak around his neck and a scimitar at his side, he hardly wore his helm in the city. Because of this one would readily guess he is of tuigan descent and hold a full head of hair and a very fine beard. It would also be easily apparent that he is older than your common adventurer, seeming to be at the least thirty years old. Despite that, this somewhat gruff older man has the look of someone quite confident of himself and his abilities with a mighty strength hidden beneath his armor. Those that he passes might note a vague aura of a commander about him, though he speaks little as he goes about his business.

In the wee hours of the morning, a moderate shudder rolls through the Living City, followed by a slight lurch as it seems to buck against a wave briefly, though not enough to send anyone from their feet. The City's environs seem to grow just a bit more quiet, the glow of the Sentinels' eyes just a bit less bright, and the magical flames of the torches a bit smaller.

Though no obvious signs present themselves beyond the initial lurch, those familiar with any sort of sea navigation would note that the City would seem to be in motion, and not in accordance with the prevailing tides.

*-*-*-*-*

//If you think your character would have such knowledge, feel free to PM me with reasons/examples of how/why, and I may have some further information for you.

Somewhere in the court, the lurch causes a carpenter's hammer to miss it's mark. The tool finds a gloved thumb instead of a nail, and the peaceful night of the city is graced by a shadovar's exquisite knowledge of Netherese swears.

A late-walking dragonkin feels the lurch, but when it doesn't repeat, she slowly calms and figures out they aren't all about to die.

However, she does poke around to see what exactly is happening.

Later at night, Eddie was seen by numerous students in library with a book "How to become a shapeshifter ::For dummies::"

As recent as two nights ago the Enforcer could once more be found tucked away in a shadowy corner of the library, seemingly hidden behind a rather large stack of books that he had procured from various places throughout. Now and then a glance was spared around the nearby area, soft murmurs being heard now and then. It would seem almost as if he had taken to speaking quietly to himself for endless hours when pausing from his studies.

Sergeant Lacern can be seen examining the ballista outside the gate to determine their state of repair. This wouldn't seem too odd given his other duties in the city, but what may surprise some is that he seems to be spending an inordinate amount of time examining the bridge from the portal node. If asked why, he simply states he is tasked with reinforcing the old bridge.

After examining the ballista outside the gate the Sergeant gives a tsk of disapproval and immediately goes to find Havok to requisition the necessary metal bits to do some immediate repair work to hold the old and clobbered together things in one peice until an alternative is found. After this he immediately goes to his old "workshop" next to his heavy ballista and starts drawing up some plans to reinforce the sturdy but slowly failing old bridge. Whenever he is not around, the plans disappear, and he does not seem keen on letting people see them. He keeps muttering about the need for an actual engineering office to work in.

Additionally anyone who examines the ballista would notice someone, probably the Sergeant, has scrawled the words "Big Bertha" on the side of the ballista.

The gardens find themselves covered with what look to be tents, canvassed out and staked to keep them as secure as possible.

One might find Vorel'isk nailing down the canvas with a small hammer.

Shortly after returning from the Court of the Living, Beldor is seen gathering his things in a fit of rage. His office papers, a few of his personal tomes from the Library, right down to his spare robe in one of the dormitories. Something has upset him. Whatever it is, he makes no explicit mention of it other than cursing every so often while looking northward. If anyone is around to ask him his reason for packing up, he grunts two words and two words only:

"Irreconcilable. Differences."

He is gone within the hour and has not returned since.

One day a man would appear in Tarkuul, draging himself from the portal with somewhat severe wounds covering his body. He'd make no complaints about them, in fact he'd refrain from tending to them as he made his way to the temple of Velsharoon. There, he worships at the feet of The Archmage of Necromancy, swearing his loyalty with worship that would appear to have been uttered repeadetly in the past, with the same conviction and passion that they are uttered this time as well.

When he leaves the temple, he finds his way to the library. There he could be seen reading, and reading, and perhaps even reading some more, on which ever subject he can get his hands on. One such subject stands out as very dear to him, however; Necromancy is quite obviously his favored subject in the library, and should anyone talk to him on the matter he would appear eager to learn, soaking up what information he can before he has the chance to experiment with it himself.

To those he speak, he introduces himself as Beldak Urthadar, hopeful student.

Anyone venturing into the Keeper's chambers would find that the three tomes seem to have been turned to blank pages, farther towards the end of the book than the pages they had previously been opened to.

A new individual could be seen roaming about Tarkuul. As the city sees all, it would a male elf, with freeflowing blonde hair. He would seem to pride himself in staying away from the typical crowd, and could be seen frequenting himself more commonly in the library then not.

Occasionally, a powerful entity could be seen accompanying the elf, it would easily be recognizable as 'A Shadow of the Void.' It would remain behind, always lurking watching for danger of anyone who might seek to harm him.

Besides this, the elf seems harmless enough.

A man wearing the regalia of the Commonwealth's guards and an elven ranger stumbled into the city via the portal, took a quick glance around and departed again. An honest case of misdirection, or something else?

A figure cladded in rusty, old... yet effective plate armor is seen in Tarkuul these days, wandering from building to building and spending the most of it's time in Crypts. A symbol of Jergal is rammed onto the chest plate quite visibly.

The rusty figure would on more than one occasion see Grim passing by in the crypts. Not usually one to talk he would stop upon seeing him and offer a polite nod. And should he wish, invite him to his office for a talk.

Starting last night, the High Arcanist could be seen
chanting by the entrance portal.

*Deimos saunters in through the portal, not acknowledging any others that are wandering about. He makes his way into the lower crypts of Velsharoon's Temple*

Last edited by Dead on Tue, Feb 26 2013, 1:02 AM, edited 1 time in total.

A whole cycle passed and the High Aranist was still
chanting, taking only a few short breaks..

A small horde of extra undead workers streams out of the crypts without preamble, shambling silently to various points of the City to join in the construction work that has been taking place. Where this new host originates from is anyone's guess.

The Living Guard sergeant immediately puts some of the undead to work assembling what appear to be a number of seige weapons of various makes.

Grim spends his time in the crypts to no surprise. On the small comossion of extra workers leaving he would stand aside and just watch them as they leave.

Last edited by Dead on Wed, Feb 27 2013, 1:29 AM, edited 1 time in total.

It was the third cycle in a row and the conjuration continued unceasingly. It would
seem that the pseudodragon of the High Arcanist was now authorized to handle public relation during
the incantation, as it gazed upon those who would curiously stop by to observe his master and from
time to time warning them not to hold their breath if they are expecting something to happen in
the immediate future.

Gerald can be seen patrolling the city clad in guardsmen uniform again.

In the past few evenings Enforcer Fearian could be found once more spending most hours outside of his patrols within the depths of the library.
For the time being it would seem as though his most recent studies have been placed aside in favor a single tome,
a large leather bound book with a silvery flaming blade engraved upon its covering. A stack of thin but fine quality parchment is spread out beside the book, along with a few small vials of ink.

Glancing back and forth between book and parchment he'd quietly spend hours making notations in turn along all of the pages, if one was close enough to catch a glimpse of the tome they would notably find a portion of the page highlighted in a brighter shade of ink. "Siege Weaponry- Animation and Manual Control"

---

Hours spent on duty would find the Enforcer quietly lingering near a pair of sentinels, a hushed conversation being held among them.. or perhaps he has simply lost his mind and is carrying on a conversation with himself.

On the fourth day of the chant, the aura emanating from the portal of
Tarkuul seem to be gleaming in the shades of blue and purple..

Seeming to have returned to work, Aurelius Constance can be seen about the library with a collection of his own notes. Apparently refreshing his memory and understanding of a certain bit of magic.

On the fifth day, the color darkened further, and it appeared as if the Shadows are coming from the focal
point of the portal. The High Arcanist was seemingly barely standing now, leaning on his staff as he was
humming, vibrating and repeating the same arcane phrase over and over again..

"Nif'fesi'sjach"

A Breath in the Silence: "Life" in Tarkuul

Who is online