For ten years the kingdom of Adherin has been under King Bohden's rule, a place where mechanical birds deliver messages of secrets and dark words, and a new era of machines have launched a world of weaponry and transportation in a way that has helped all of mankind to flourish. But in this thriving kingdom lies an evil menace, hellbent on destroying all that is good and true. He calls himself Lodekai, and uses his influences of betrayal and secrets to bring the human race to their knees. In his posession is the potent substance known as ignatius that he has manipulated to turn willing humans into something a bit more...powerful. Monster? Demon? Overlord? You decide.
But among this dark presence is a shining beacon of hope known as Solaru. Half man, half angel, he walks among the humans in an effort to save them from Lodekai and his motivations. He's been gifted with the heavenly liquid, xyst, that transforms the purest of hearts into angelic beings like himself, the Aeonar. Although he has fought this battle for years in secret, he now goes in search of a special three that has also caught Lodekai's eye.
The Driscol sisters hold the fate of Adherin in their hands more than they realize. Ruby takes presidence as the eldest, now having the title of Lady after the recent death of their father left her inheriting his land and power as one of the king's close right hands. It is not a secret that she should have been queen, but in an act of rebellion some years ago she had fled the city, choosing to disappear instead of marrying Bohden Vasska. Now she commands alone with strength, bravery, and oft times, stubbornness.
In her place is her younger sister, the middle child, Sapphire. She rules beside her husband as queen with their young son, Adrian. Often she's thought on as vain and shallow, her own beauty outshining most, and is not without deception in her planning. But her son is her pride and joy, and she takes great pleasure in being a mother. And in knowing she's raising the next king.
Then there's the third sister. Opal has had little good fortune in life, cursed with a tormented soul and unattractive features. She dwells in the home of their late father, forgotten by many, and slinks in the shadows of her sisters' victories and glories of past ancestors. It is said in the streets she is not a true Driscol, but was left on the steps as a babe by a black crow to forever carry with her a cloud of gloom.
Setting
Adherin is a large kingdom, with numerous cities and towns. Kalden is the capitol city where the castle is built and most of the story takes place. The setting itself, that of clothes and buildings, are much like the Victorian Era. Swords are used much of the time, but there is the occasional pistol or musket used by officers and those rich or powerful or famous enough to have one. There is also the manufacture of machinery that can be used in numerous ways, such as taking the place of pigeon carriers or as hollow compartments to transport people (think carriages) or trains, etc. But there is no electricity and the like. Aside from the oddities of Lodekai, Solaru and their followers there are no other creatures and races in this world, only humans.
1) Basic CF rules apply.
2) You must create a character bio, and it must be passed by myself first before you begin writing.
3) There needs to be a minimum of one paragraph in your posts. It's really not that hard, and it helps to keep the story going instead of expecting everyone else to do it for you.
4) All are welcome to join. Just make sure you read over and post in the OOC first.
Any questions? PM me or ask in the OOC
__________________
//NaNoWriMo '09//
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The sky above the mountains dimmed gradually from brilliant sunwashed blue to a deeper and more somber velvet. In the pass that wound between two towering peaks, wagons were drawn up to shield against the coming chill of night; horses were tethered and hobbled, latrines dug and fires lit. A light wind gusted, pulling at the clothes of the workmen busy at these duties, and stirring into ripples and flutterings the silks and fine fabrics of the wealthy members of the company, who stood about or sauntered to and fro. Their leader, he good Lord Elias, retired to his wagon to rest from the long days’ travels, his large and ornate wagon guarded by four trusted knights.
Such an odd thing, trust. This thought flitted across Ren Aldir’s mind. With careful neutrality he watched the tall, dark-haired lord disappear from view, then switched his attention back to the chessboard laid out on the ground before him. He moved a rook three squares to the left, placing it in perfect position to attack his opponent’s king. The man across from him smirked. Yes, trust was an odd thing. A useful thing.
“Checkmate!” With a flourish, the burly man squatting across the board slid the black queen into place. Now the white king stood trapped, blocked from escape by a row of his own pawns. The burly man grinned and picked up the flask of wine from beside the board. It glinted in the firelight. “Too bad you are not as good with the game as with the blade, my friend. That’s all three of us you’ve lost to this evening.”
Ren cursed and slammed his fist down on the chessboard. The wood cracked and pieces flew everywhere. Cursing again, Ren rose, kicked the shattered board hard, and reached into his belt pouch for a handful of coins. “Replace your fool’s game,” he said, hurling the coins to the dirt in front of the burly man. “It’s worthless for for more than termite meat.”
Calmly, the burly man gathered up the coins and what chess pieces he could find, storing them in his own pouch. Then he too rose to his full height. With impressive stature and good looks, Deshantar Osakwae owned the hearts of many young women, but his true asset was his mild and unflappable manner, which he now emanated like a quiet force. “Well, friend, I’ll be enjoying your wine with Sighild and Arkya tonight. Good luck working all our shifts, I trust you will not sleep on duty.”
Ren turned his back. “I do not sleep, Osakwae. Are you quite finished with your taunting?” He did not wait for a reply. He needed none.
The lord’s wagon rested nearby. Ren walked over to it and took up the watch. The darkness fell softly on the mountains and the company of the good Lord Elias, peaceful in sleep. Outside his door stood a man whom the lord had hired three weeks before for his unsurpassed skill; a man he thought a knight. One trusted killer.
__________________
Time holds the heart's key,
Key to everything is Love...
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It was set. For weeks this day had been anticipated, ever since he received the letter he now held in his hand, bearing only a single date and time and location. It was how the killer worked. It was why he had been hired. Professional, planned, nothing ever done in haste, and always, most importantly, clean and silent. Careful planning had been done even before the killer had gone out to survey his victim. Choosing the right lord was critical, and after much searching...one had finally been decided upon and the killer dispatched to work his magic.
Lodekai stood from his chair and strode to the fireplace burning brightly in his study, the flames casting flickering shadows upon the walls as the only light in the room. He tossed the paper into the flames and watched it burn with satisfaction. Just a few more minutes and it would be time for him to leave. Even now, the lord was most likely still sleeping soundly, unaware an assassin was ready to strike. How Ren was going to complete the job, Lodekai didn't know. And he didn't much care. Just as long as it had those two most important elements...cleanliness and silence.
A knock on his door drew his attention, though he kept his eyes to the flames. "Enter." He ordered and he heard the door swing open.
"Milord? Will you be needing your horse for your travels tonight?" A small voice asked. Harper. A short, squat man in his early forties with a mustache on his upper lip that looked remarkably like a gray caterpillar crawling on his face when he talked. An Ignatius Child...one of the first after the initial exposure in the laboratory. Like Lodekai, they had the ability to take on a human form, and for them it was always the human they had been before being exposed to Ignatius. And Lodekai preferred them to keep that form unless strictly ordered by him otherwise. It was best that way, less chance of detection.
Lodekai was silent for a moment, watching the last bit of paper blacken and curl in on itself before answering. "No." He needed to stretch his wings tonight. Too long they'd been kept under this cage of a human body. Unlike his Children, Lodekai could take many forms, not just his previous human form. Not that he would know what that form should look like, even if he could. Lodeaki could remember nothing of his previous life before he became the creature he was today, though at one time he knew he'd been human. No, this human visage he adopted during his day-to-day life was rather unremarkable and he preferred it that way. One could see him in a crowd and walk right by him, speak to him and then immediately forget him moments later. Only when he wanted to be noticed would he take on another form.
Harper responded to Lodekai's one word answer with a squeaky, "Yes, milord." The door swung shut on slightly creaky hinges and Lodekai was alone again, staring into the flames.
He let his eyes glance to the clock on the wall exactly two seconds before it struck midnight and he felt an immediate stirring of excitement in his chest, like an itch he couldn't scratch. The only way to relieve it would be to leave now and discover what Ren had managed to accomplish. He turned from the fire and grabbed an overcoat before marching for the door, his footfalls heavy on the wooden floor of his manor as he made his way downstairs and outside into the night. He took a deep breath of cool air and then let a small, sinister smile creep across his face as he closed his eyes. Slowly, his appearance began to shift, his skin rippling with waves and darkening to red as great, black, batlike wings emerged from his back, ripping through his shirt in two clean cuts before expanding. Oh, it felt good! The release! The freedom he felt when he took on his own appearance was incredible.
When he was fully transformed, he opened his eyes to reveal glowing, yellow orbs with pupils as black as pitch. He let his wings expand out to the sides as far as they could go and then bent his knees, pushing himself up off the ground and into the air, still clutching the overcoat he would need later to cover up his ripped shirt in front of Ren. The killer had never seen Lodekai's true form. No one had, apart from his Ignatius Children, and he aimed to keep it that way. Circling his manor once to stretch his wings, Lodekai then turned towards Diatrem Pass...and the newly available position of Lord Elias Devereaux.
__________________
<><><><>
Take a little look at the life of Miss Always Invisible.
Look a little harder, I really really want you to
Put yourself in her shoes.
Take another look at the face of Miss Always Invisible.
Look a little closer, and maybe then you will see
Why she waits for the day...
When you ask her her name.
<><><><>
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__________________ The voices in my head may not be real, but they have some great ideas!
I got in a fight one time with a really big guy, and he said, "I'm going to mop the floor with your face." I said, "You'll be sorry." He said, "Oh, yeah? Why?" I said, "Well, you won't be able to get into the corners very well."
A small coach rolled into Kalden. It was a fairly plain wooden coach, no distinguishing features save for two rolls of canvas on the top of the wagon and a third hanging from the back. Two tired looking horses pulled it, and a man with long, salmon-coloured hair sat in the front driving it, though the colour was hard to distinguish in the morning light.
The guards had stopped him, but he was able to show valid traveling passes and entered into town unhindered. From there, he directed his wagon to the center square, where he had been told other merchants for the festival could set up shop.
He found a fairly good location and hopped out of the wagon. "This looks like a good place," he said in a rich baritone, swinging his head to shake a lock of hair from his face. He straightened his pink vest as he added, "Now all we need to do is get a couple of pretty honeys for volunteer stage girls, and we'll be all set."
He looked up at the wagon. No need to unload yet; leave that for morning. He could use a couple of wings before the day proper started. After surveying their choice of stage once more, he strapped a feedbag onto each of the horses, climbed up onto the bench, and said as he lay down, "Eat up, ladies. We should make a fair profit in this city."
SIGURD FARVADIN sat cross-legged with a glass of clear liquid at one of several long polished marble tables in the castle’s dining hall. He glanced around, watching the servants move busily around he room; presumably preparing it for the upcoming celebration. No sunlight seeped the high windows at this hour to pool upon the smooth stone floor or reflect off the glass and silver lay about. Instead, the room was bathed in light from the large chandelier that hung from the high ceiling in the center of the room accompanied by smaller lights where the chandelier’s beam could not reach.
Sigurd sipped at the clear liquid. Cool water, to be more precise. He was on one of his little breaks from duty, as he often called those short periods of time he spent either walking through the halls or enjoying a drink, although he didn’t exactly need any such breaks. It never occurred to him that he needed to be tense the entire time he stood at the king’s side. Still, he would never go too for or be absent for too long, just in case.
“Sir Sigurd?”
He looked up. A thin; blond-haired servant stood staring aross the table at him with sky blue eyes.
Sigurd offered a slight nod in greeting. “Yes?”
“I am sorry to interrupt.,” the servant said, bowing. “but His Majesty has sent for you.”
Sigurd set down his half-empty glass and stood. “There was no interruption. Thank you.”
He turned from the dining hall and strode at a brisk pace down a few corridors.
He approached a closed wooden door that led into the king’s study. He lifted hisz hand, knocked twice, and lowered it to grip the brass handle; awaiting the call to enter.
Back to duty.
__________________ The voices in my head may not be real, but they have some great ideas!
I got in a fight one time with a really big guy, and he said, "I'm going to mop the floor with your face." I said, "You'll be sorry." He said, "Oh, yeah? Why?" I said, "Well, you won't be able to get into the corners very well."
Location: In my own little corner in my own little chair. ;)
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"No, no. I told him...that tax is too much. Does he want a riot on his hands?" King Bohden Vasska looked up from his seat at his desk to the high magistrate before him, his expression severe.
The high magistrate was a thin man in his early forties who had begun to undergo premature balding when he was twenty-five and now was almost completely without hair on his head except for a thin strip of light brown that sat just above his ears and wound around to the back of his head in the shape of a horseshoe. He pushed his spectacles up onto the bridge of his nose and spoke in a soft, almost feminine tone, "But Lord Grenley said-"
King Bohden interrupted, "Forgive me, Master Yeldar, but Lord Grenley could not manage the finances of a children's lemonade stand. He has not the mind for it. Military tactics? Lawkeeping? Yes. He has talent with those, but he has never, never been able to keep track of his spending and his income and I do not see that happening anytime soon. That tax..." He pointed to the piece of paper in Yeldar's hand, the yearly update that he required each of his lords with good amounts of property to send to him this time of year on the general status of their specific land. "...will be the ruin of him and the start of a riot in his own backyard. If it has not started already." Bohden shook his head and then sighed. "Master Yeldar, if you would be so kind as to find a prominent accountant willing to travel to Weye and help Lord Grenley with his books before this gets out of control? I know not who is keeping his books at the moment, but evidently whoever it is needs to be fired."
Master Yeldar nodded, slipping the report back into his recordbook. "Of course, Your Highness. I shall see to it one is sent right away."
Bohden nodded. "Thank you. That will be all." As the magistrate exited the room, leaving Bohden alone in his study, the king sat back in his chair and pressed his fingertips to his temples, rubbing them in slow circles. He'd woken up with a headache that morning and it had continued to plague him all day long, only getting worse with the numerous issues that had to be dealt with before he took his anniversary off. It was impossible to work on that day, too many people demanding his time. So it all had to be done beforehand.
Anniversary. What a joke. Bohden closed his eyes, trying not to furrow his brow. As if his anniversary was something to celebrate. He didn't think it was. And he was positive his wife, Sapphire, didn't think it was. But...they couldn't let the people know that their king and queen practically hated one another. So, every year, they had a celebration marking the day Bohden and Sapphire had been joined in marriage; and every year Bohden had to put on a fake smile and hold his wife's hand and dance with her at the ball and pretend as if he was in an utterly blissful marriage. Those who worked closely with him and who lived in the castle knew different, of course, but as for the rest of Adherin...they only saw what he wanted them to see.
At that moment, a knock sounded at his door. Bohden gave a small start and then opened his eyes, blinking a few times to chase away the blurriness. He cleared his throat, dreading the thought of another official coming to him with another complaint or decision that needed to be made. But, the sooner he got it done, the better. At least he wouldn't have to attempt to work on his anniversary and deal with Sapphire shooting him evil looks all day long. And that would be different from any other day...how? The both of them exchanged those looks every day...when they chanced to see one another. Pushing the thought from his mind, Bohden straightened his shoulders and leaned forward with his elbows on his desk. "Come in."
__________________
<><><><>
Take a little look at the life of Miss Always Invisible.
Look a little harder, I really really want you to
Put yourself in her shoes.
Take another look at the face of Miss Always Invisible.
Look a little closer, and maybe then you will see
Why she waits for the day...
When you ask her her name.
<><><><>
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Sigurd turned the handle, pushed the door open, and stepped into the study; closing the door behind him.
King Bohden Vasska sat behind his desk, leaning forward with his elbows resting on its top. Broad shoulders, blonde hair, a few lines appearing on his stern face, blue eyes staring across the room at him as if he expected to do business with him.
Years ago, Sigurd had devoted his life to protecting this man. A path he felt destined to follow, as if taking a blade to the heart in the place of the king of Adherin was the only thing that mattered. Yes, Sigurd had always wanted to take up the sword and die defending someone important; something he and his brother, Samuel, talked about in their younger days. But Sigurd had been the one to reach that goal. Samuel had vanished from the face of the earth.
Sigurd bowed. “You called, Majesty?”
__________________ The voices in my head may not be real, but they have some great ideas!
I got in a fight one time with a really big guy, and he said, "I'm going to mop the floor with your face." I said, "You'll be sorry." He said, "Oh, yeah? Why?" I said, "Well, you won't be able to get into the corners very well."
Location: In my own little corner in my own little chair. ;)
Posts: 4,130
Blessings: 30,433
My Mood
Reps: 1,098,622 (power: 1,104)
Sigurd. Bohden was relieved to see his faithful bodyguard enter the study. It wasn't another official needing his advice or decision on somethin. It was his bodyguard, responding to a summons Bohden had given a little bit ago when he remembered that the two of them hadn't gone over security plans for the celebration. Not only that, but it would give Bohden a chance to get up and walk around, stretch his legs in a much-needed break, even though technically it was still a form of business.
Bohden offered Sigurd a stiff smile. "Sigurd, thank you for coming." Placing his palms on the desk, he pushed himself up and took a deep breath. "I thought now would be a good time to go over some of the security plans for the celebration." He nodded once, striding around to the other side of the desk so he could face the large man. Sigurd was more like a friend to Bohden than a bodyguard as he had served Bohden for many years. The man rarely left Bohden's side when he stepped out of the castle, and a lot of the time even within the castle as well. "I thought we might take a walk. To the ballroom and then the dining hall where the reception and dinner will be held, go over your plans for security." He placed his hands behind his back and clasped them leisurely. "I remembered we had not gone over that, and...in all honesty I think a walk may help my headache."
__________________
<><><><>
Take a little look at the life of Miss Always Invisible.
Look a little harder, I really really want you to
Put yourself in her shoes.
Take another look at the face of Miss Always Invisible.
Look a little closer, and maybe then you will see
Why she waits for the day...
When you ask her her name.
<><><><>
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Security plans? Yes, of course, they hadn’t gone over the security plans for the yearly celebration. Sigurd hadn’t forgotten; in fact, he was quite familiar with the operation. Stay close and watch for signs of attack, in a nutshell. Sill, Sigurd liked to review the plans for two reasons in particular: one, it was refreshing; like going hrough a routine that was out of practice. And two, it was never the same plan. Who knew what could have changed?
And a walk sounded necessary, Sigurd thought. He knew how hectic things were at this time for Bohden. He hoped a walk would help the king relax.
“Yes, as you wish.” He turned and pulled open the door, stepping aside to let Bohden pass. “After you.”
__________________ The voices in my head may not be real, but they have some great ideas!
I got in a fight one time with a really big guy, and he said, "I'm going to mop the floor with your face." I said, "You'll be sorry." He said, "Oh, yeah? Why?" I said, "Well, you won't be able to get into the corners very well."
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