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

Early one 'evening', or noon depending on how you look at the day and night cycle in tarkuul which is forever dark and gloomy, The Fireblooded returned to the blacksmith havoc with an inquiery of sorts.

Hashim walked up to the busy blacksmith and asked for help in understanding the nature of magical enchantments. He was asking for counsel.

-"Sirrah. Ana is no blacksmith, thus logic dictates ana seek one out to understand the nature of my problem.
Ana have understood that most magical incantations are written in draconic, and some in the old nethrese language. Some are written in elven and some in Dwarven.
Does the nature of the language have any significance when it comes to enchanting weapons or armour? Must it be dwarven runes to make something strong and sturdy? Must it be draconian letters to provide fire resistance?
Do you understand my question?"

Very_Svensk wrote:

-"Sirrah. Ana is no blacksmith, thus logic dictates ana seek one out to understand the nature of my problem.
Ana have understood that most magical incantations are written in draconic, and some in the old nethrese language. Some are written in elven and some in Dwarven.
Does the nature of the language have any significance when it comes to enchanting weapons or armour? Must it be dwarven runes to make something strong and sturdy? Must it be draconian letters to provide fire resistance?
Do you understand my question?"

Pah, that's nonsense. I aint no dazzler berk but I've been here an' there an' I can tell'ye that magic's magic. Ye can wrap i'in flowery words or etch it in think stone runes but yer still tappin' the same well, ken? The difference, berk, is in'he one doin'he work. How a cutter taps that well aint as important as what kind o' hole they've dug for themselves t'get there.

The genasi seemed very content and even spirited by the somewhat 'rough' answer Havoc provided him. After musing next to the anvil for a few moments and giving a small parchment filled with draconian runes a few looks he bid the blacksmith good day in his own foreign language and discarded the small note he carried in a nearby dustbin.
Albeit a few wrinkles had appeared on his forehead, and though his stride was somewhat slower, the calishite mercenary looked much more content then before.

Hopefully the draconian runes were one less obstacle he needed to worry about!

"
الآن أنا لا تقلق بشأن لي بعد الآن. - He mumbled.

Besides his usual loitering by the gates, Sicarius lately can now be seen within the Ghostly Kraken, often at the bar or a shadowy secluded seat. He doesn't seem particularly interested in making friends with the barkeep as he never buys any drink or food, instead drinking from a flask he always carries somewhere on his person. The Castellan's purpose there seems to be more in observing and studying the patrons who frequent the tavern.

Ever-partying Eddie would raise his glass to Sicarius the moment he notice the gloomy castellan.

"Cheers, Castellan! Drinks are on me! I have a fortune to spend and the time is on my side!"

And with that, he returns to his comrades in game, tossing a dice whilst pinching waitersess arse with a chuckle.

A stoic man, clearly a decendant from one of the elemental planes, occasionally visits the kraken to pick up letters calls out a hello to the newcomer. The genasi sits by a lone table and writes most of his time spent in the tavern, but seems welcoming to company.

You get a feeling he would buy you a drink if you sat down with him...?
//WELCOME!

The sighting of Kell would come to a complete dead stop within the city. It would have seemed to happen after a dispute with the local Lorekeeper in the tavern. The male elf would've been seen leaving the pub after slamming his chair into the table.

One might be able to spot a large, orcish man wandering the streets of Tarkuul. He has the look of a warrior, albeit a poorly-equipped one. He keeps to himself mostly. When he does speak, his sentences are short and abrupt--almost as though there wasn't a word to spare. Rumor has it that he asks about work in the city and is seeking employ.

Lord-Jyssev wrote:

One might be able to spot a large, orcish man wandering the streets of Tarkuul. He has the look of a warrior, albeit a poorly-equipped one. He keeps to himself mostly. When he does speak, his sentences are short and abrupt--almost as though there wasn't a word to spare. Rumor has it that he asks about work in the city and is seeking employ.

A firegenasi would be quick to hand him a Flyer pointing towards it and telling the half-orc that would he require better equipment, Hashim Hoios is the one he should contact.
He goes on to welcome him to the gloomy city and asks him to be cautious what he speaks about - He then mumbles something about a living city and departs abruptly.

Late in the 'Evening' The fireblooded mercenary stood next to the blacksmith's forge and duplicated sets of platemail. He had a ready suit in front of him and tries to mimic it's appearance, 'Trying' to make a non-magical copy of it. It seems he was practising?
A myriad of Horseshoes, Iron nail and even spearheads, arrowheads and other easy things. The final products did not look very good thought.

Last night an unusual sight could be seen in the Court of the Undying. Rather uncommon for the tropical
climate of the Living City, a thin layer of snow covered Tarkuul as a bear-sized wolf of pure, white fur
was seen conversing with the High Arcanist and the Keeper of the Crypts.

It had been a long and eventful day for the Keeper, beginning with the snow and visiting wolf. Followed by traversing the lands only to return to have a long discussion with the Legate and Lorekeeper he finally retires for the evening in his office for some much needed sleep.

The half-orc makes occasional trips to the Court, dropping off a small supply of building materials each time. The contribution accumulates, albeit slowly.

He can be seen more and more often in the library, however, studying certain tomes.

The house and adjacent shore gradually turns into some sort of shipyard housing a makeshift floating crane and a hangar. All new buildings
constructed either of stone or metal. Everything is operated by undead and golems. Air around it reeks with abjuration.

A crane was seen dropping into the sea and after some time fishing up some globes. Globes all were darkgrey
colored with bright pole on top of them and skeleton attached to shackles. After work, a crane was always put into hangar.

Recently delivered several statues of spiders were put in crates and stored somewhere.

//^^ meant to be here or accidental post? Looks like UD stuff to me

Audrey has been seen once again, and more and more each passing day in the city, and almost as if waiting for something to happen. She spends most of her time reading in the library.

As of late Lucius is seen entering the office of the Lorekeeper in the library, and
examining the big index of library books for hours, making notes into his grimoire.

A slender elfin figure garbed in dark twilight shades trudged through the swamp and into the city of Tarkull. The hood of his travelers cloak hiding his features though on occasion a flash of light would catch his eyes pale green like some kind of arcane bale fire. He carried himself confidently and with purpose as he knew he walked not among men but in a den of predators disguised as men, guided by ambitions both lethal and immoral. He knew the dangers of the knowledge Tarkull could offer and the effect such indulgences had upon the weak of will. He would not walk this place with his head held low like prey to be set upon or stalked.

Dauntless he entered the cities vast repository of books, there it would be noted he selected a strange collection of research material. Demonology, necromancy, Neural anatomy, arcane gemology and theological rituals and practices of cults. The Drow wizard carefuly collected the tomes he felt most useful and set about spending the better part of his day researching and taking down notes he found useful. When at long last he had gathered what he felt he needed he gathered his notes and set out to leave the city with the same bold stride that had carried him into Tarkul.

The now former Castellan of Tarkuul can be seen gathering his possessions within the City, it seems he is preparing for a lengthy trip.

Sometimes, when fog near seashore were quite dense, two skeletons may be seen walking with different pace around a circle and shooting rays of frost at each other. Gradually, intricate snowy pattern appears on a ground. Certain elf, sitting almost motionless, blankly gazes on this scene. At some point, he releases fireball and clears the stage. If ever he asked about this, he calmly replies "Look in the mirror. It is good for thoughts".

One of the newest arrivals and members to Tarkuul and the Magisterium Mortis, Vaaros Pulnor, moves some things into one of the buildings in the Court of the Living; inspection would reveal he is a new tenet in this building, renting it out for a month. It seems he plans on staying here a while.

He can be seen every now and again moving into the library and spending hours at a time researching and studying, and then testing his magics in the field, being one for hands-on experience...

A small figure, covering all but her chin from her high hood, which shows her wrinkled green skin lurks through the city for the past couple of weeks. First in grey clothing, then in black and yellow, which may be recognisable to the older few as a past living guard uniform and most currently the new living guard uniform, showing her white cape.

Occasionally a silent skull, made from that of a eyeball can be seen floating next to her, and to those who hide near her may hear the chatter they share, the green and halfling sized figure mainly speaking in undercommon and hushed tones, while the skull whispers back in weird tones. Letting out signs of laughter every so often.

A somewhat familiar face returns to the city. After a visit to the headmasters office, he spends many hours about the library, researching various topics and spells.

After a long, long time, Eddie finally left the safety of Tarkuul Inn. As his slightly intoxicated gaze shifted towards the sun, he grunted and tossed away an empty leather bag that once used to be filled with many a gold pieces.

He slips a cigarette between his lips, takes a solid drag and sighs. "Here we go again... "

Seeing Eddie self-conscious once again, Lucius approached him and nodded..

"Welcome back to sanity Eddie. We need to talk."

Not a while ago, package of papers delivered to High Arcanist office by Aldaril. It is contains several chapters of data.
First chapter describing lifting technology, utilising metal floaters, filled with ethanol with compressed gas tanks of variable volume (both mechanical and alchemical variants), along with several designs of probe gathering devices and traps. Second chapter describes corporeal undead preparation to aggressive sea conditions with wax or resin bone strengthening and closing pores and cavities. Third chapter describing indirect survey of seabed and samples gathered from it by mechanical probes, along with map of areas, perspective for detail survey for open mining of various metal ores and building materials (mostly sediment or metamorphic genes). Fourth chapter contains descriptions of important for mining operations various sea creatures and deep dwellers, which were caught by core-of-cold or mechanical traps. Appendix contains list of stored (or rather preserved) on operation dock and ready to use equipment, samples gathered and species 'encooperated'.
Note attached to heap "Master Lucius, I'm currently off on seabed exploration within Gulf of Lumorier. I will visit you as soon as possible after return. -- A."

A beautiful and groggy Aiseth recently visits Tarkuul again, appearing safe and sound.

She would be met with a welcoming nod from the High Arcanist..

Grim has been seen in the court more than usual this past day. A messenger makes several visits to him with letters to which he returns the letter and on the third visit he also gives the messenger a bag of gold with the letter.
As to which he then returns down to the crypts once more.

Early that morning, the High Arcanist was heading into the Temple of the Vaunted, followed
by his loyal Winterwight who was carrying a large T-shaped wooden construction. Moments
later they disappeared into the catacombs bellow it.

=====================================

After a short trip to the Tower of the Damned, Lucius returned to the Temple of the Vaunted
with three perfectly preserved cadavers which were carried by his undead minion. A very keen
eye would spot flawless black onyx gems inserted in the oral cavity of each corpse.

In the office of the Curator in the library Grim leaves a small signes note clearly visible on the mess of papers on the desk.

-I have added the Finis Omnium to the collection of the library.

The Keeper,

In the Keeper's office..

The tome shall be reviewed.

A familiar face can be seen making its way around the Living City, checking the guard office and leaving the occasional offering at the idol to Umberlee.

Not to long after his return to the city, Gerald can be seen in his Living Guard uniform on duty, as well as going in and out of the trade office. It seems he has quite a bit of work ahead of him.

The most recent collection of Emilie's painting find their homes once again in the foyer of the Castle. Perhaps there was a figure that placed them there, but it does not linger . It slips into shadow and the silence of the Living City on this still and lonely day reigns once more.

Perhaps it was only an echo of a memory in the night.

Seeing the paintings in the foyer Grim makes a detour on his walk throughout the city, checking the office in the library and then the room in the tower.

Gerald can be seen briefly speaking to Mherun in the Court of the Damned. After the conversation ends and the two part ways he appears to be wearing a new sword, and rather proudly.

*A letter left in the library*

I'm taking a brief vacation and will resume research after a few days. If there is a pressing matter, please write me while I am vacationing away in Howness, Forrstakkr.

-Aiseth Nosdivan

It is not often Grim visits the Tower of the Damned. This night however he is seen exiting the great doors from it, followed by a Wheep carrying a dark clad corpse as they both head down the crypts.

Gerald can be seen around the city in Living Guard uniform sporting a new cloak of rank.

A grotesque Hin Earth Genasi Green Disciple sits silently in Tarkuul's library, reading a book on Draconic scales.

A shady and dark-clothed person, quite adept at avoiding other people,
can be seen if you look carefully, wandering around and sometimes sitting in the tavern, observing the sorroundings.
There is a thick aura of magic, and sadness, around him.

Gerald can be seen at the forge with absolutely massive quantities of metal working on something. He toils and sweats into the wee hours of the night, working himself into exhaustion. When he's done whatever it is gets packed up in the Trade Hall. After that, he goes off to rest finally, until disturbed or allowed to wake up of his own occord the next day

There is a new Guard slowly walking around the grounds of the Living City. One could say with a swagger as he sports the new uniform of burgundy and grey. A thick head of red hair is only topped by a large, red, well-manicured moustache. Rarely smiling, he looks around at everything he passes, taking in all details of the surroundings.

He pokes his head into the Kraken just to see all is well and then continues on his way.

After walking for hours around the Living City he retires to the Kraken for mug after mug of ale and a bottle of whiskey, consuming both in an hour. He then turns in for the night.

He may even be overheard as he goes.........."I think I may have found myself a new home.............."

A once-familiar figure is seen wandering the cobbles of the City once more, inky shadows pooling and swirling at his feet as he goes. He seems distracted, preoccupied, his wanderings seemingly aimless. He stops at the siege weapons lining the perimeter of the City, touching each one, giving them a cursory inspection. Every unliving Sentinel gets the same attention, the joints in their armor inspected, and edges of their blades tested. He thoughtfully pauses at an Annihilator, polishing a spot of black plating with the corner of his cloak, though the armor didn't seem to need it. He finally finds his way to the Court of the Living, pausing at the tools and workbenches still covered in tarpaulin from the last storm. After a moment of hesitation, he pulls off the tarps, inspecting his tools and materials. He wanders away, thoughtfully touching the Obelisk, musing at the irony of a memorial for a living man. Hand still on the obelisk, he sends the City a thought, and waits.

A heartbeat passes, then another. Small motes of eldritch light appear from the gloom of the city, then are revealed to be faintly glowing Arcane Marks. The wearers of the marks resolve from the murk, a small host of the unliving, their flesh parched and drawn tight around bleached bones. Toolbelts and carpenter's coveralls hang loosely from the mockery of tradesmen, hammers, saws and chisels still clenched in gaunt claws. The ghostlight shining in dead eyes compete with the mystic marks in their foreheads for visual attention, the marks themselves shining in hues of white, blue and green. One of the unliving, this one with a green mark, approaches the Shadovar and holds out a toolbelt.

"You were fond of this one, Severin."

The 'dancer reached for the belt full of tools, quirking a brow. It was released from the creature with some difficulty, scraps of undead hand coming off the creature, melded fast to the belt. It had obviously been in it's death-grip for a very long time. Even Luca looked slightly perturbed.

"Ah...yes. Tonight we continue on the officer housing. I will...clean this, and join you there."

Unbothered by the missing hand skin, and apparently not much one for superfluous conversation, the creature turned stiffly, the small horde behind it following suit after a breath of time. They walked, ever slowly, to the large structure in the center of the court, dominated by Drow architecture.

...

It was eerily silent construction that night as they began piecing together the interior and furniture of the building, the only sounds being that of metal tools on wood and nail, and the lone voice of a shadovar giving instruction.

Centurion Gerald can be seen making extended patrols outside of the city, killing any thing in his path to ensure that any refugees have a clear way to the City. He does not venture into the caves, but he is very, very sure to clear the swamps surrounding the portal.

There seems to be life in the living city.

After his ceremony in the castle, Gerald is seen disappearing into the Tower of the Damned with Luca and Grim. When he returns his cloak is a different color, indicating a further promotion of sorts. Perhaps he has ascended with in the guard, or perhaps more.

Mirago can be seen leading a Blue, two Red and a Black dragon disciple around. They enter what seems to be someone's home, after a while they leave, oddly quiet and filled with purpose.

A certain drow clad in blue and black can be occasionally seen skulking around the Tarkuul library, looking through the various books there.

A Breath in the Silence: "Life" in Tarkuul

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