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Otkrytoye Polotno / Quest: Mending a Manic Mind
« Last post by Retro on Yesterday at 09:52:49 AM »
This is to keep record of Thalas work on Kirans mind. This quest has Thala actually inside Kirans mind to make these repairs. See records below:

Days had passed, everything Thala could try she had and still this.. Kiran seemed no better.  His body was better for sure but he still rambled on about things and voices... He had things that needed to be reconciled that was obvious but he was far too damaged to do so here and now.  It left the alicorn with little recourse and one option she hated.  Still there she set on her knees having put him to sleep again and this time the stone floor came up to enclose up to his shoulders and up to his knees in case he woke before she was done.

The preparations had been made.  At home this would be easy to fix but herr she didn't have access to her full power, she was resigned to try though.  Most people thought that psionic were not magic.  Yet magic was the manipulation of energy, and so was psionicss.  The school was even linked to one of the outer planes just like arcane magic.  It was that plane that Thala was channeling.  Her eyes shimmering light purplish pink as her hand lowered to his forehead.  Normally one might resist, but here Thala was more worried about feedback.

His mind was so chaotic it would be dangerous.  The alicorn world fading before her eyes as a shadow of herself pulled into Kirans mind.  Her eyes opening to see... His thoughts, his world.

The Echo:
Kiran had been at the mercy of Thalas healing. The mercy of her magic. His mind was riddled with aches, voices, chaos. Thala would catch that upon her entry.

The scene before Thala was empty, but there was not nothing. There was a bellowing wind, and what looked like ashes blew around like a sand storm. The ground riddled with cracks. Kiran was nowhere to be seen. Her arrival would be met with a blackened barren waste land.

There was no light. There was no sun or moon though somehow there were clouds. Just barely visible moving over head. There were a few trees, dead and blackened, ashy, and burnt. The shadow of Thala did not go unnoticed though.

Something was watching her.

Darkness, heat, and blistering wind even without light.  The place was a desert, but there was more than that here.  There was a presence, but was it one of the voices? How to know..

Thala stood slowly in a glimmer of that pinkish purple and her hands out stretched.  "I am here to help."  her form was nothing but fur and light.  The only light here it seemed.  "let me help you, Kiran."

The Echo:

The creature hidden in the darkness of the ashes, sound muted by the wind. Four legs moved about an inch closer. The creature continued to watch for but a moment. 

A low gurgling voice echoed through the wasteland. The voice rushing toward her like a clap of lightning. "Kiran is dead!" The voice clapped to her. "He is long gone" the voice stated. There was an echo though that extended The wasteland that would repeat the word 'gone' many times.

"Madness!" The words came like a lightning strike again and would echo.  "You. Will not. Find him here" the voice said softer again and a laugh would trail afterward.

"Do you think I don't know where I am?" Thala shouted back as the thunderous voice faded.  The clap of thunder and the echoing were,unnerving but harmless.  This creature was part of the madness.  She knew that, but what part?  Or was he the guardian?  The one guarding what was left of Kirans mind from these wastes  "I am not some novice, I know this is all Kiran.  Its all his world, I just need to find the center the essence."

pausing for a moment the alicorn looked around to try and get a good look at the creature and the land if she could. "this madness can be turned back.  Kiran just needs help, I wish to do that.  Do you stand in my way?"

the alicorns light starting to grow brighter as she concentrated, drawing in more energy from her body.  This was why it was dangerous, she was helpless in the real,world but the cave was well hidden.

The Echo:
The creature would take a few steps closer, noticeable from the winds of ash. "Why" she voice would gurgle.  To her questions, it would listened he inched closer. A roll of thunder came through the wasteland she stood in. Four legs took two more steps.

"He is broken. Damaged. He is of no worth. " the voice stated plainly. Thala would be able to see something that resembled a wolf before her. Dark in color, bright golden eyes.  But it looked more monstrous than normal wolves. "We all stand in your way." He would state as he neared her and came into vision. Lips that didn't move, but his words would be heard.

As Thala got brighter he would be more visible. He could feel the energy from her but he would not react, yet. "This madness." He would echo her. " You will not find him here." He would state again.

Thala: rolled a d20 got 16 for sensing Kiran or ivailo. Results:So what she will notice is the familiar in form. Maybe a telling scare, same shape of tail. It's missing a face so you wouldn't see it there but the shape of the ears. Familiar patterning, not the same color as it's blue and black but his over all shape would be familiar and she would feel something there soul wise.

Shook her head as the creatures form came forward.  There was a soft breath as the alicorn studied this beast.  "Ivailo.." Thala was far more familiar with the man, Ivailo, than she was with Kiran.  It was a touch easier to see the former hero of white city.  Another shake of her head though and she pressed a hand to the ground.  "Of all the creatures I could see, you are the first are you? So be it.." 

Thala's hand burned with that pink light and she stepped towards him.  "Your soul was rebirthed without you being whole.. wasn't it?"  It was a big time no to bring forth someone that held deep seated regret as it could destroy the mind, the fragile bond between mind and soul.  This was only part of the problem.*  "You don't want me to find Kiran, do you?  Its not that I won't but more that you don't want me to.  Because then you would have to face yourself again." 

Thala moved her wings around her body and spoke softly.  "You are in shadow and doubt.  But I can tell you that you were, and still are a good man Ivailo.  Stumble though you may have, you need to accept the fact that you are couragous.. you are strong and honorable.  You need to step into the light."

The echo:
Golden light sat where eyes should be. They watched the pink light for a moment and listened to her words. He huffed and shook his head. "I am the first." Was all he would state. He began to move toward her and circle her. He had ivailos memories. His past. He didn't speak, he just walked around her.

"The light does not shine here." He would state. The voice still a gurgle and low. His tail swayed as he moved around her. He made no motion to get closer to her or her wings aside from walking around her.

"There has been too much loss."

Thala huffed softly as the creature circled her.  Her ears twitched as he spoke and she shook her head.  The light was here, it always was.  It was sometimes too hard to see for the clouds.  "Loss is part of life Ivailo.  That being said you will always have to reach to take the good back for yourself.  But in life you gained much.  Lets look shall we?"

The woman pressed her hand to the ground and her fingers clenched as the pink light shimmered from her fingers to dig into the ground.  She was pulling at something too, tugging at the memories hidden in the very land.  "You met my mother."  Her eyes shimmered, the vision of Ivailo and Kristine dancing that night.  It was followed by another fond memory of the two.  "You saved the queen of white city.  They built statues of you."  The images showed with the energy that she twirled up through her wings.  His life was flashing before his eyes, showing him the good.  He knew the bad and the despair but he needed the light.  "You still have a daughter as well... she still needs someone to be her friend, or father."  Thala spoke softly.

The Echo rolled a d20 got 16 for decorruption.

The Echo:
The creature settled before her watching her regal display. Memories of his shown before him. He did not move, he watched. The accolades she stated forced him to think. The ears stood straight up. Thala would notice a change in his appearance. The spines on his back would get smaller. His claws would grow shorter.

But his face would remain removed. "It was the right time." He would state. Still body unmoved as it sat rigidly there. Doubt still remained. The voice sounded nearly normal but still a sound of deep an echoing tone.

"I'm no father." He would state bluntly. "I  lost that title a long time ago. I'm no friend. Not a knight. This existence relied on just being at the rogjht place. At the right time.." He watched the display, the memories of his past. He was unmoved physically. Mentally there was a bit of change. Thala could tell she was getting through..somewhere.

Thala didn't stop, instead she pushed it deeper.  "Life is about the right timing."  The images of continued to show, to push his mind back towards the good.  Progress was showing and she needed to keep that going.  "You saved the queen, you saved hundred of people that day.  And sure, someone else could have been there in that time but they weren't.  They may have been there and done nothing, but you were there and you acted."  The images seemed to follow her voice, truthfully she was just following his own memories.

"Yes, you are a different person.  Yes you stumbled but at the same time you made a positive difference.  And so many important people loved you for it.  Luna, Kris, Katrina."  Thala looked upwards and her eyes turned towards Ivailo.  "You were saved, and brought back because people believe in you.  You have all the potential in the world, all the ability to make the difference, and they know that.  You are doubting yourself, but instead you need to learn from your missteps and push forward to that hope."
Elsewhere / Re: Out of the Bag (Hounding 2017 Bonus)
« Last post by KeithBojangles on August 11, 2018, 12:00:02 AM »
"Kill joys," he mutters to himself and then sighs. For one who should be used to the sound of silence, he wasn't much liking it. A reason why he didn't silence the chit chatting ghost as most necromancers would. Just to have peace and quite to work, "Hm?" Seeing one of the others walk off to look at the ever growing shadow Keith would glance back and forth between the two males. Already lost the pretty wood nymph...could another end up disappearing too?

"Oh well," Turning on his heel he would follow after the other to investigate the shadow. If there was a sense of 'doom', he wasn't showing it. After all he wanted to know what the hounding really was and he was going to keep going to find out. Even if that meant departing this word to well, whatever The Skald felt Keith should just 'be' afterwards.

"Good shadow, bad shadow, bites or no's off one's head?" If the ghost where here, one would be screaming to get ready to run. the other two would draw their ghostly swords and prepare for better. Sadly, Mr Skull was not here so he would have to use something else as a weapon. So an idea popped into his head as the other was further ahead to start pooling magically energy between his hands, if he could. Otherwise, he was going to try his best to punch something.
Elsewhere / Re: Out of the Bag (Hounding 2017 Bonus)
« Last post by KeithBojangles on August 10, 2018, 11:45:39 PM »
Rolled 3d20 : 4, 15, 8, total 27
Prasino Kolaz / Re: Virtuoso Vanquish: Meizarae (2018)
« Last post by The Skald on August 01, 2018, 11:34:15 AM »
Long after the dust had settled and retreats were made... the natives to Prasino Kolaz would note that the sparkling gold flecks remained in the air like tricks of the eye. The vines that had encased the rubble had turned to stone, a malady that spread ever so slightly into the surrounding jungle, petrifying the flora as far as their cursed roots and vines reached.

Unrecoverable bodies, the ones left behind because the almost and nearly dead were more important than the all dead in the evacuation setting, were also lost to the stone casing developing in the area. The jungle was not in danger, it seemed, as the native fauna would start to bloom again.

And with prey, predators return to feed on them.
Prasino Kolaz / Re: Virtuoso Vanquish: Meizarae (2018)
« Last post by Meizarae on August 01, 2018, 11:24:01 AM »
The opening was clear, but as the Skaldic Artifact "Marcato" came in contact of the screaming Virtuoso, cleaving a gash into her shoulder blades the world writhing within the bounds of Elysion's building froze. Smoke shot from the Woman-in-Black's new wound, faster and more aggressively than the pockmarked holes from the arrows that landed a hit through her screech. Sound had stopped so abruptly as if it had been swallowed back into each of their throats. Their hearts thudding a heavy bass into their ears, vibrating in their chests like the stomping steps of giants.




The scene then shattered, an unknown and windy force pushing outward from the impact, those still funneling into the 'arena' were sent back through off the property of twice fallen temple. Stalkers in the trees outside would feel a lesser but still potent force pushing them to leave.

Battle trained and farm worked mounts alike became unhinged, forcing the General of Battaglia to call a retreat and register his forces at the forward camp.

Those that had rounded to the other side of the room waiting for that moment would be slammed hard into whatever wall or pillar in their way of the wind-gust path... but they would bear half witness to the continuation of the implosion of Meizarae.

Choral chanting replaced the beating of hearts. Gold trickled into view, tiny flakes amid the black cloud filling the battle room until the foe had been blanketed into obscurity. Her scream returned as suddenly as it had gone, only to break into the crackle and snap of wood as dark and gnarled tendrils shot from her former location.
Big twisting branches and vines reached for purchase on the buildings remains, punching holes through weak points until the place was collapsing in a more final heap.
Prasino Kolaz / Re: Virtuoso Vanquish: Meizarae (2018)
« Last post by Meizarae on August 01, 2018, 10:58:48 AM »
Defense against Archers
Rolled 20d20 : 8, 15, 18, 3, 3, 1, 3, 20, 14, 11, 12, 20, 3, 12, 15, 13, 13, 12, 17, 14, total 227

Against Aleksandr
Rolled 1d20 : 14, total 14
Prasino Kolaz / Re: Virtuoso Vanquish: Meizarae (2018)
« Last post by The Skald on August 01, 2018, 10:49:25 AM »
[Posted in Discord 7/7/18]

Attention Players:

I am prematurely ending the current Virtuoso Vanquish going on the forum. I feel its beyond unfair to keep your characters in holding when we have no sights of an end months in like this. Myself included, we seem to have run into one thing after another that causes RP to take a back seat and has been detrimental to the overall plot.

So for the story's sake, it will be a tactical retreat and politically a loss. Prasino Kolaz will suffer some changes that will be reflected in the room line up... and while there won't be a winner or accolades given, Participants will still find a reward for sticking with it in their applicable profile 'soon'.  For your characters, it will be up to you if they accrue any damages. Maybe they develop a grudge. Maybe they die.

As usual if you need me, message. I will get to you as I can, and dont feel bad about nudging me more than once, I need it sometimes!
Elsewhere / Re: Out of the Bag (Hounding 2017 Bonus)
« Last post by The Plague Doctor on July 08, 2018, 10:51:23 PM »
The Doctor watched in silence as another approached. It seemed to be a very cheery male. Too cheery. He did not trust people that were all smiles and chuckles, and what's more, the man spoke too much already, even in this short time they met.

He completely ignored the name that the new stranger called himself by and instead tore a piece from his shirt and tied it firmly around the top of his arm to stop the blood flow in case it was to spread a form of infection through his body which he did not want to deal with.

Also ignored was the question of who should be the leader. The doctor could not care any less about who leads who around. Either way, if someone ordered him around, he would likely not comply unless it was in his best interest and if it was logical.

Once finished, the Doctor regarded the three of them briefly. The long-legged tailer, the undertaker, and the shadow. Which reminded him. The shadow figure had startled him and still remained silent. Suspiciously but with caution, he pushed past Alastride and Keith to investigate the figure before them.
Elsewhere / Re: Out of the Bag (Hounding 2017 Bonus)
« Last post by The Plague Doctor on July 08, 2018, 10:28:26 PM »
Rolled 3d10 : 9, 8, 3, total 20
Prasino Kolaz / Re: Virtuoso Vanquish: Meizarae (2018)
« Last post by Aleksandr on June 17, 2018, 02:08:10 PM »
He waited, and waited, each moment trembling like wire pulled taut, until the tension finally snapped it as the arrows rained down, the clatter of those missing their mark punctuated by the thicker sound of successful impact. He clasped the sword in both hands, fingers wringing his grip around it as he prepared to move, feeling the stress of anticipation start to build as he waited for the arrows to cease plummeting down around his target.
He had started to rise from his crouching position, ready to go, when the terrible shriek ripped through the air, his eyes watering, his soul feeling like it was rattling in its moorings, spared the worst of the effects by being behind her. He didn't look at the brave men and women assaulting that path to Meizarae, he did not want to see what she had done to them with that awful sound. People were dying already, he was sure, and the death count was going to soar as they were bottle-necked in that passage, so he urged himself to act now, and if nothing else, be a distraction so that they could close on her and finish her with the weight of countless blades.

He closed his eyes and reached down, inside himself, looking for that strange sensation, that awful burning that ate at his his mind, finding a cold, grim apprehension there. He felt the first twinges of panic starting to set in - the whole point of this gamble was that in his crazed state, they thought he would not be able to hear the cry of their foe, and that would allow him to close and fight her without risking dying before the first step. As he was now, he couldn't do anything, fighting against the sudden creeping dread, looking for something that would engage that ominous, furious state he had lapsed in to before now.
He thought of that injustice of his arrival here - yanked from some time and place by some trickster god, to be the whipping boy of an eccentric merchant and a self-righteous, sheltered princess. The pain of having his memories stripped away and left with nothing, not even the clothing on his back when he had first arrived. He thought of Jackie's flirtatious mockery, and Eirian's casting him out because of the sword... A cursed tool also courtesy of the trickster god.

He felt the sudden twinge in his chest, a sense of heat that curled and felt like it washed over his ribs, a sense of eagerness building up as he tried to kindle the feeling further. He thought of all the mishaps he had endured since he had gotten here; the betrayal of well-meaning but misguided Azalie, the gawkers and simpletons that simultaneously treated him as something special, but took away the human element of him, a dumb icon to their trickster god who was there purely for them to have some sort of martyr. And lastly, he thought of all those people who had come to die in this place, to fight an age-old evil while their people back home talked of fairy tales and failed to grasp the very real and dangerous nature of the situation. An army of whatever people could be found with the bravery to lay down their life, led by a princess who had the job because no one else would or could take it, walking to her death for a populace that barely even knew her....
The heat built in his chest and with it came a roaring in his head that almost took him off his feet, the fire in his chest almost unbearable as it started to weep out of his skin, catching along his hands and racing up his arms. He trembled visibly, veins on his hands and arms standing up as the fire rolled up his body, the brown of his eyes changing to a glowing ember orange. He exhaled a bass growl, and with it came a plume of steam, the last vestiges of Aleksandr the man washed away in a tide of white-hot rage.
He hurtled out from cover, devoid of reason now as his vision filled up with the fire, the oppressive heat of his rage made manifest rolling off him, stinging the very air around him with the frenetic flames.
He was a man trained in combat, trained in tactics and strategy. But right now he roared with the intensity of a crazed man as he bore down on Meizarae, the sword Marcato raised above him to bring down on her, the conflagration of rage reflected in the glinting steel.
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