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

Quite often she would encounter the Lorekeeper, sorting out the old tomes into categories
and working on the library index. He would not approach her, even though occasionally he
would toss a glance in her direction.

Since the lorekeeper would be well-knowing of the library, he would notice her passing frequently in the sections about Abyss, Demons and the such.

With the influx of so many skittish refugees the dragonkin makes herself - not as immediately evident in the city. She presents herself when needed, or sought out, but otherwise she observes from her more natural state.

A certain man of cat-like quality takes great interest in the influx of refugees. He makes frequent trips to the Ghostly Kraken, chatting and playing cards with the newcomers (or at least, any willing to tolerate his tiefling heritage). He seems in permanant good-cheer, and frequently compliments the good and fulfilling work of the Living Guard in conversation. If he notices any orphans, he seems to take particular interest in conversing with them, mostly assurances of Tarkuul's 'good' nature, followed by topics to keep their minds from their lost homes. Evidently, Quinn has some interest in getting to know the new residents.

The High Captain can be seen around the Court of the Living, addressing the needs of citizens and making sure that meals are properly handed out. It would seem that the shipment from Shadowscape brought with it quite a bit of food. Dried fish, meat and bread among them. He also does what he can to address the concerns of people around, making sure that they're properly housed and getting an idea for what they're currently lacking. If they want for anything, he seems interested in knowing. He can also be seen in the company of a small ghostly child wearing a gray and black tabard. Anyone who knows him well enough to have seen such would recognize the colors on it as being hte same he'd worn before taking up the uniform of the Living Guard in such increasing frequency.

A notice is placed up in the court of the living by Watcher Calypso with a brief message.

Should anyone in Tarkuul including newly arrived from Cordor be a skilled butcher
assistance would be appreciated at the Ghostly Kraken tavern
See Marigath for details
Any others that wish to assist with other artisan or trade skills they may possess
feel free to offer your services where you feel it's needed
For all the new arrivals from Cordor and elsewhere
Welcome to the Living City
Any in need of help finding your way around or having any other issues
Simply find a member of the guard and we will be happy to assist

Once a few notices are placed up for easy viewing Calypso continues to make her patrol rounds stopping to speak for idle conversation here and there tending to the needs of the new arrivals, seemingly more of a happenstance manner than making it obvious of her making an effort to do so.

The Necrophant continues working deep in the catacombs of the Vaunted Temple. Coming out of the temple at least once a day, if only for brief moments at a time before returning to her study.

*Every evening like clockwork Draco returns to the Ghostly Kraken for a bowl of Zurkstalk Stroganoff with Blue Cap Flatbread and a bottle of Mother's Marrow to wash it down. He smiles warmly to the other newly arrived patrons though this may put them less at ease when revealing his pointed teeth. Once finished he would offer some of them to join him in a friendly game of Dirty One Eye upstairs. Those brave enough to join the monstrous looking tiefling would find that he was very civil with a confident grin ever present on his face. When he lost he didn't ever get upset in the least, perhaps because of his hefty coin purse. Doing his part to show that even creatures looking like him in Tarkuul were no threat to them.*

Dill unlike most of the other guards doesn't go out of her way to speak to the new comers of the city. The old goblin continuing to venture either to the crypts or to the library.

To those who venture to the library books of Metamagical thesus seem to be organised. One or two books seem to be a focus of hers and never far from her in the library.

To those who venture into the crypts as of late may of noted a large stack of giant bones in a corner. Dill can be seen taking containers and barrels from the trade hall into the crypts. The old goblin obviously enchanted with strength enhancements to help carry one barrel at a time.

She can be seen pouring a liquid into each barrel, muttering to herself all the meanwhile and stiring at them as a apparent thick liquid is made from the solid within each container.

If people stop to see what is to be done with them in the crypts she dips bones into each barrel before laying them into a new pile. The process takes a long time, and each time a barrel is consumed it is replenished by another. This takes two days to get through the pile to simply create a pile of slightly shinier bones within the crypts.

Vaaros Pulnor, now dressed in the proper colors of a new initiate of the Living Guard (having returned from a forced leave to his homeland), walks the streets of Tarkuul, attempting to find a priest capable of crafting wands...

Richard_Edmund wrote:

A small note appears on the general noticeboards dotted around the city.

To whom it may concern,

I offer the services of divine-blessed wand making to the residents of the city.
*Wand quality and enchantment quality may vary.*

Necrophant Jarshall.

He would likely find these posted around the noticeboards by the short Necrophant.

Loud screams of agony would echo throughout the temple of Velsharoon, coming from the
catacombs. An observant eye could witness that earlier, the High Arcanist, followed by a
man in purple robes and two members of the Living Guard headed into the temple.

A familiar form can be seen moving through the city. Familiar in size and her choice of clothing, but occasionally looking off balance as her wings seem to be suddenly - missing. Iim'mur'ss is also likely more withdrawn, and on occasion - noticably drunk.

An upset Vaaros Pulnor stalks the Court of the Undying in his uniform, clearly perturbed by something. He keeps muttering about Kohlingen and their "ridiculous laws", and "ignorant buffoons"...

Necrophant Jarshall finally made an extended trip from the catacombs of the temple. In hand she held a thick dossier of vellum pages which she escorted to the Triune Towers, and asked after the High Arcanist. The look on her face, for those who know how to spot below the darkness of her cowl, would notice that she had questions and looked irritated to have no answers.

A letter is dispatched from the Vaunted Temple via Wheep Courier Services to the Triune towers.

I have drawn my portion of The Memory, it lies in the office in the top level of the Temple. Collect it when you will.

Necrophant Jarshall

Having more time available, Watcher Calypso works tirelessly at both the carpenter bench and the forge. She spoke with Kerath in the privacy of the LG office concerning some small divided barrels that was apparently of some priority. After giving several options she's decided to just make the barrels instead of buying them in quantity to customize them and possibly avoiding gaining unwanted attention.

First she forges five barrel frames which she'll reuse. Prepares the slats shaping them and notching them top and bottom for the "lids". She makes twenty five iron bands that will go a around the slats for forcing them together leaving it at that for now. Once this is accomplished she works on the five dividers making sure they fit snug and are a "clean" seemingly water and air tight fit. While she's at it she makes the tops and bottoms cutting a small hole in one to allow it to be filled.

Using some resin Kerath had provided her she applies the resin to each slat or stave covering it completely. After waiting a moment for the resin to cure she stacks the staves side by side forcing them -tightly- into the barrel frame making sure the bottom "lid" is also covered in resin and the grooves on the staves fit correctly to the bottom "lid". The barrel bottom now prepared, she takes note of the staves marking the center dividing line of the small barrels right down the exact middle. The dividers are then covered in the resin as well and placed into the barrel by useing the guide marks for centering. Everything is tightened down as the top "lid" is put in place five bands in total are used for each barrel as they cure.

Once the barrels are cured she removes the three extra bands and stacks them by the forge ready to be picked up. Using this process she can make five barrels a day, ten if the day is uneventful and she's allowed to. However, if she goes for ten she works well past her duty schedule doing nothing else that day and getting about five hours of sleep before starting again the next session. She doesn't have time for patrol either but should someone walk by she does greet them and assist if needed.

Some time in the late hours of the night, a disoriented High Captain could be seen stumbling out of the castle before collapsing. His skin was pale and from the blood still pooling in the cobblestones around him, it was clear that he was suffering from blood loss. The denizens of the city quickly came to his aid, casting healing magics on him and carrying him off into the castle once more. However it seemed the High Captain may be out of commission for a time.

She looked over the scene of those she had brought to attend to the fallen High Captain. A whirlwind of thoughts plagued her behind the impassive expression.

Did this mean he would not complete the transformation?
Could she truly not leave the Living City again? She, herself had been taken from the Triumvir, and he was abducted in Cordor.
How would she be able to do what needed to be done?

His bleeding stopped and the others began lifting him to carry him to his quarters. The dragonkin turned and silently walked in the direction of the Court of the Living.

Kylex- someone not seen in many months walks casually into the city from the portal as if nothing had changed since her last visit. In her formal attire of a sinister black dress and a horned helm, it is unclear if anyone would notice her, perhaps the only clue could be the purple ioun stone floating around her head as she walked, but she would most likely not be recognized by any of the new populace of Tarkuul. Possibly seen by only a few, she enters the temple of Shar, coming out and leaving the city after a long interval.

An angry-looking Necrophant entered the temple and made a bee-line for the offices upstairs. As she came upon the door, she turned the handle and entered the room slowly. Her gaze turned towards a painting sitting on a chair in the corner, a sheet draped over it.

With an angry growl, and a wave of her hand, the painting, and the unfortunate chair, were taken by an implosion, scattering chips of wood across the floor and canvas along the room. She sat down in the main chair with an agitated sigh and leaned back.

'A complete waste of my time.' She muttered below her breath. Just then, her Wheep entered the room and she looked up at it coldly. 'We have work to do.'

Last edited by Greyweaver on Fri, Dec 27 2013, 13:27 PM, edited 1 time in total.

For one reason or another Calypso's presence at the forge, other than working on what looks like a large hammer, has been waning as of late. It has been replaced more often than not with her becoming much like quite a few others in Tarkuul although on duty and taking note of those who enter and leave as well as seeing to her normal duties as a guard, she is reading over her latest notes in hand, flipping through the pages of a fairly organized journal she keeps with her in one of her many small pouches that hangs from her belt. They are obviously magic pouches since when accessing them to either place something in them or take something out they glow magically and deal with items -much- larger than would be expected to fit within them. At times while reading she stops and takes some kind of apparently magic quill from the back of her notebook and "jots" something down then continues with her study and reading. If asked what she was reading she would show, at least those she knew was authorized, bits and pieces of a work in progress in addition to the following report. Otherwise for all others she would show a fairly well scribed report on Collin Reyes and various seemingly unconnected events that has happened on the isle. Although she is only partially finished with it there is annotations and bookmarks slats poking out in various directions that have been labelled one thing or another, cryptic to most but apparently has meaning to her.

At midnight, on the 27th of the Nightal, the High Arcanist started
weaving a complicated spell by the portal entrance of the Living City..

For one day and one night, the High Arcanist kept chanting by the portal, and there was
no indications that the spell shall be completed anytime soon..

Two days have passed and the spell was still in progress. It would appear to those who
would stick around that each day the chant changes, as if Lucius was working with a
different type of energy.

Last edited by Greyweaver on Mon, Dec 30 2013, 0:45 AM, edited 1 time in total.

Calypso has been quite a bit of time in the library after a recent converstation in underport and in the Living Guard office. If any approach her and ask what she is reading she apparently doesn't mind showing them the spine of the book which reads, Tazlins grand tome of the planes. Once she shows them she goes back to reading unless someone asks her about something that her duties require her to do.

After night falls and the industry of the city quiets down, Luca seems to alternate between two routines. Every other day, he continues his hunting expeditions into the wilds of Amia, returning to the Kraken with as much fresh game as he can shoot, his accuracy and stealth putting even seasoned hunters to shame. The nights he isn't hunting, however, Luca secludes himself in the arena, with a single Sentinel for company.

He begins his practice with slow, precise blade katas, gradually blending in his new command of the night to cloak his movements in shadow, masking his foot work, blurring the lines between reality and illusion. He studies cloaking his darksword in the darkness, the precise strikes of his rote katas now appearing unexpectedly from the murk. His own shadows, cast from the flickering emerald torches of the Court of the Living, follow his movements nearly like they would be expected to, but each unique shadow adds it's own flair to the kata, making the performance hypnotic, disorienting. Later, he trains relentlessly with the lone Sentinel, the tireless, immortal warrior providing the perfect sparring companion. He tries blending shadow and sword into a practical art, with mixed success against the unfeeling creature. He pushes himself further and faster, forcing himself past previous limits and into new ones, drawing on the power of the night itself to fuel his speed and stamina, his saber a shadow-cloaked blur. Every night he trains, he eventually falters in his blade-dance and the Sentinel lands a heavy blow with its greatsword, sending the Castellan wounded and reeling. He would send the undead away then, and rest, using the shadows to slowly mend whatever injury he sustained. Each night however, the point he falters is pushed further and further back...

The High Captain can be seen more frequently around the Court of the Living, seeing to the needs of the newly housed refugees and getting a general feel for morale in the area. Every once in a while when he finds an interested person, he has a good long talk with them about joining the Living Guard. Opportunities for them are discussed and potential is evaluated. The interested candidates are offered an immediate sign on bonus and immediate training and conditioning.

He can also be seen spending a good deal of time with Bill Hurst in the Kraken, occasionally leaving packages with him.

A dark-skinned man in black and red cloth can be seen running around the city of Tarkuul with a shovel. It is unclear of his business, but one can guess that this man has a lot on his mind.

*A new face would be around in Tarkuul. Cassandra, often wearing an uniform of the living guard, she prefers to stand close to Havoc's smithy watching him craft armors with obvious interest but not otherwise bothering him unless he initiates some conversation first.*

During a respite from her duties in the temple catacombs, the Necrophant watches the high arcanist, attempting to discern the magic being used in his lengthy ritual.

A new faces can be seen in Tarkuul in recent days. Both men are similar to each other, walking side by side, dressed in black robes with full plates under it. Both have strange, curved blades on their belts. They were asking for High Captain of Guards, otherwise they do not speak much to anyone.

Quite intimidating scene would appear before unassuming travelers who would enter the city
through the portal. Many of them are startled, but the image of a mage chanting would remain
for the most, unchanged and unaffected by anyone's presence.

Those trying to discern the exact nature of the spell would find themselves puzzled, unless they
would be well versed in the nature of portal magic.

Those traveling into the storage room facility in the temple catacombs would find an odd sight. A tiny shriveled goblin-sized creature, an Entomber to the more educated, works tirelessly towards organizing the store room. Corpses are neatly piled, the skeletons are assorted into their individual parts and neatly placed into individual boxes labeled with their respective contents. The sarcophagi remain unmoved, however. But given the size of the tiny creature, it certainly is clear as to why they remain in place. Given the sheer amount of stuff in the area, the organization is far from complete.

Day 4..

Grim passes through the Kraken and the court where the refugees are. Handing out some posters as well as placing but one on each notice board in the Court of the Living.

Quote:
This year is coming to an end and by such it is upon us to remember those who have ascended from their mortal lives to an eternity at rest. Many have lost their families and friends and their names shall never be forgotten. The Night of Another Year is upon us and I shall conduct the ceremony in remembrance to those who are no longer with us.

My reason for publicly posting this is to both inform and invite those who are willing to participate in this peaceful ceremony. Take with you the names of those who have passed on and recite them with me during the night and so will the Protector of the names of the dead forever scribe them into records.

We shall hold this on the most fitting place for the past year. Moribund.

The place was usually fairly quiet. Rith'tars exploration had taken him here and the armor and weapon maker was good enough at his profession for a look.

The thumping sound of a rothe herd on stampede brought Rith'tar around to face them in an instant. His blade was out and ready. He had the fleeting thought that an attack wasn't usually so loud.

What he saw had him frozen in astonishment.

It was as if Lolth Herself had placed parts of every race into a bag, given it a shake and put them back together at random to create a new bit of chaotic entertainment. Rith'tar saw wings, backward legs, glowing eyes, what he could have sworn was some sort of shade and humanoid shapes that weren't quite right. It was a chaotic mix of everything one might imagine. And they all, inexplicably, jumped into the sea.

He slid his blade home as he went to watch them. Other beings presented themselves and the shouts and conversations made it so it was several minutes before Rith'tar could understand anything being said. It mattered not to him as he sat on a box to enjoy the ensuing continued chaos. If this was a common occurrence, he would visit more often for he hadn't been this entertained in a very long while.

On the 5th day of the incantation, Illuminatus Bloodcloak joined the High Arcanist in a chant. A
loud crack was heard throughout the Court of the Undying as a tear in the matter of the Prime
was created. And then, the Living City fell into silence yet again. It would seem that, finally,
the chant came to an end..

Luca's burst of energy seems to have faded as quickly as it appeared. He still continues with his projects, but is sullen, withdrawn. He replaces the Sentinel in his training with one of his Temple Guard, keeping their skills fresh, but largely they just seem to mope and make small talk. Some days, with no pattern at all, he simply fails to appear in the City at all.

After an extended absence from the city, The Necrophant finally falls through the portal. Standing up with the assistance of her quarterstaff, she dusted off her robes and limped through the gates. Upon entry into the temple she summed her Entomber and sent it off to work down below while she went upstairs for some apparently-needed rest.

Individuals around Tarkuul in the early hours of the morning would have witnessed a female elven figure in a torn, mostly destroyed chain-shirt clawing its way up the side of the Court of the Living. Despite the shredding of its armour by what was clearly a considerable amount of violence, there did not seem to be a single wound on it. The dark skin visible on the figure was lined with silver veins, and though its eyes were closed, the faintest glow could be seen from beneath the lids. The figure had dragged its way onto the surface of the Court and fallen down. There was a long pause, it began to breathe, and then lim'mur'ss opened her eyes.

The Castellan frowns, visibly concerned, and carries the elf-thing into the shadows of a temple...

After a day of slaving in the office with quill and parchment, The Necrophant makes her way to the Triune towers with another thick leather-bound dossier in hand. Summoning her entomber, she handed the dossier to it and gave it a clear instruction to hand it to the High Arcanist. After which she finally returned to the temple.

The Entomber just stands there, looking like an uglier version of a dumbfounded child.. And even after the high arcanist receives the dossier, it just continues standing there until it's time is up and then is unsummoned.

*While Cassandra is still occasionally seen in Tarkuul she no longer wears the colours of the living guard when visiting the living city.*

Iim entered the Kraken and ran her palms down her smooth silk clothing. There was a bounce in her step and she was actually... humming! "One down, two to go."

She proceeded to order enough food to feed at least four people and seemed to have no trouble putting it away. Clearly she is in a much better mood than she had been for the last four days.

As of late, the High Arcanist has been secluding himself in the grave silence of the library,
surrounded by a small mountain of esoteric tomes. From time to time, he would open his
grimoire and draw an arcane diagram, as he would mutter in draconic..

*Every morning for the past week, before going to work on Luca's plans in the Court of the Dead. Draco can be seen approaching the doors opposite of the Tower of the Damned with a magical rune in hand. Upon reaching the giant doors he held it out, the magical wards unlocking the door just before opening them. Closing them again as he entered, the powerful wards sealing the door shut behind him. What he did in there each morning was anyone's guess, he would not emerge until the afternoon where he would make his way to the Court of the Dead.*

Somewhere, in an otherwise silent room, a graceful figure whirled in fury. A half-empty bottle propelled from her hand to shatter against the wall, and the still frosted contents oozed down the stone in a black smear.

Rith’tar didn’t bother to whisper as was prudent while he conversed with the diminutive female. He referred to her as ‘Mistress’. She’d said his name aloud. It wasn’t as if there were many heavy plate armored Drow males wandering around in the open, no helm to hide his identity. A hood seemed to be the fashion with Drow males in Tarkuul. Apparently he didn’t see the need.

No doubt others would have noticed his sudden disappearance from the Ghostly Kraken earlier. Or at least heard it.

During the conversation he checked his attire, pulled something from his cloak clasp and tossed it into the fire. Their conversation was spoken in Drow. It was a calm exchange that even included quiet laughter.

Then, for the second time that cycle, he left the Ghostly Kraken. This time, however, he would be seen using his portal wand.

*A familiar to some dark robed and crowned wizard walks the crypts and stone halls of Tarkuul once more*

If someone did so stop him.

"Mineself dose visit, nothing more"

A Breath in the Silence: "Life" in Tarkuul

Who is online