FANTASY-NO MAGIC

[Mags she/they]

22 minutes ago, ΨιτιsτηεΒέsτ said:

Woe noted the traveler, but pretended not to notice. Then he realized something. He knew him too.

“Do you have any other jobs you need done?” Wit asked, taking a mother bit of the pig.

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YOU MEAN THE CORRECT SPELLING OF COLOUR

"Uh . . . not really." July fingered the box in his bag. He wasn't really sure what his next step was, his focus up until then had been acquiring the jewel. Now, he had it.

"I mean, I guess I could use something to do."

[ʟɪɢʜʈ]

2 hours ago, J. Magi said:

"Uh . . . not really." July fingered the box in his bag. He wasn't really sure what his next step was, his focus up until then had been acquiring the jewel. Now, he had it.

"I mean, I guess I could use something to do.

Wit stared blankly at him, before turning back to the performer. He also wanted to net the man who had walking a moment ago.

[Through the Living Hope]

8 hours ago, J. Magi said:

"I'm--"

10 hours ago, Scars of Hathsin said:

As night lay like a blanket over the country, its embrace giving light to the stars that lit the sky, pinpoints of light that resembled closely to the ones he was used too. He smiles, kicking his horses sides gently, which sends it into a steady canter, going through the forest. The forest which gave refuge to those who were up to more nefarious schemes, and let them hide their tracks. Arranis was fortunately not one of those poor fools, the ones that get caught, for doing things they thought they could get away with. Even if it was for a good purposes. He looks around, keeping alert, making sure not to look in one place for too long.

The rustles of night creatures break the silence of the night, occasionally interspersed between these was the hotts of the night owl. Letting him no that there was no predators nearby, or anyone at that. His horses ears, like small satellite dishes, swing around, cupping, trying to catch the slight sounds of anyone nearby. "God boy" Arranis whispers to it, patting its leg. It shakes its mane, pleased at the touch. He drops the reigns, guiding the horse with his knees. He pulls the longbow form off his shoulder, and pulls a goose feather arrow out of his quiver, laying it on the string. 

...

As the tree begin to thin, and the small hamlet, with the tavern comes into view, Arranis starts to relax a bit. I think I am too used to having horses being expensive he thinks to himself before laughing aloud. The lights from inside the tavern, glow an inviting colour, and he makes his way over to the building, which was at the end of the 'main street' of the hamlet, a dusty little road, lined from thousands of feet trampling over it. His horses hooves make a muted sound as he moves through the hamlet, before dismounting, and leading it to the back of the inn, where a small stable sat, leaning to one side. "At least it is not leaking hey" he says to his horse, who he swears rolls his eyes. 

Arranis goes round to the front of the building, and walks in the door

She dodged around the newcomer as she rushed to another table. 

8 hours ago, ΨιτιsτηεΒέsτ said:

Woe noted the traveler, but pretended not to notice. Then he realized something. He knew him too.

“Do you have any other jobs you need done?” Wit asked, taking a mother bit of the pig.

The tavern owner came over to Wit and July’s table. “Is everything alright this evening?”

[Through the Living Elan He/Him]

15 hours ago, Spark of Hope said:

@Ancient Elantrian

Jolane, a waitress, approached the newcomer. “Is there anything I can get started for you, sir?”

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Want to what?

 

[BlueWildRye he/him]

Rye stumbled into the tavern, then immediately passed out on the floor. He wasn't drunk; he hadn't slept for four nights straight. It was hard to sleep when the witch hunters were after him.

"I'm not a witch..." he mumbled after a couple minutes. "Witches don't exist... You're stupid..."

[Through the living jeff he/him(straight)]

Souls carefully steps over the seemingly drunk man, and sits down at an empty table.

” Mad, the whole lot of them” he mutters

Edited August 25, 2024 by TwinSouls

[Through the Living Hope]

39 minutes ago, Ancient Elantrian said:

 

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Take over a character, J. Magi did it. You should still join though!

23 minutes ago, TwinSouls said:

Souls carefully steps over the seemingly drunk man, and sits down at an empty table.

” Mad, the whole lot of them” he mutters

Jolane stopped at his table. “Can I get you anything, sir?” She looked a little too young to be working in a tavern. 

[ʟɪɢʜʈ]

1 hour ago, WildRye said:

Rye stumbled into the tavern, then immediately passed out on the floor. He wasn't drunk; he hadn't slept for four nights straight. It was hard to sleep when the witch hunters were after him.

"I'm not a witch..." he mumbled after a couple minutes. "Witches don't exist... You're stupid..."

Wit considered heaving him out of the walkway, but didn’t want to associate himself with the strange man. 

1 hour ago, TwinSouls said:

Souls carefully steps over the seemingly drunk man, and sits down at an empty table.

” Mad, the whole lot of them” he mutters

There was a person that Wit wanted to talk to. A fellow travelled by the looks of it, and not in a…state.

45 minutes ago, Spark of Hope said:

Jolane stopped at his table. “Can I get you anything, sir?” She looked a little too young to be working in a tavern. 

Wit approached their table, gesturing at a chair. “Can I sit?”

[BlueWildRye he/him]

Rye suddenly arose and jumped to his feet. "THEY'RE GOING TO BURN ME AT THE STAKE!!!!!" he screamed, then turned around and ran straight into the closed door. He staggered back, then ducked under the nearest table and threw his cloak over himself. A few moments later, the door opened, revealing a few angry men with black hoods and blazing torches.

[Through the Living Hope]

5 minutes ago, ΨιτιsτηεΒέsτ said:

Wit considered heaving him out of the walkway, but didn’t want to associate himself with the strange man. 

There was a person that Wit wanted to talk to. A fellow travelled by the looks of it, and not in a…state.

Wit approached their table, gesturing at a chair. “Can I sit?”

She stepped slightly backwards and didn’t make eye contact with him. 

[Through The Living Glass She/They]

Niamh watched the chaos ensue. She wondered why the men at the door had brought torches into a very dry, very much wooden building.

She set down the lute, picked up the fiddle, and began playing a tense melody instead.

Perhaps something interesting would happen. She certainly wasn't above using unsuspecting people for her own entertainment.

She looked for the barefoot man again. He was certainly being chatty tonight, wasn't he?

[The Bookwyrm he/him]

Ma'tani stared at the tavern from the outside. It had looked like a nice place to stay, certainly better than sneaking into some poor farmer's barn again, but now...

Maybe I'll just take a peek.

She ducked in the front door, her intricate robes swishing, only to see chaos ensuing. As she'd suspected. A horde of men in black hoods and torches stood at the center of the room. A bard was playing suspenseful music in the corner, which seemed...strange. A group of men like this wasn't something to make fun of with music. She'd only make the situation worse.

"Excuse me," she asked the hooded men, her To'atani accent showing her heritage, despite her skill with the local language. "Is there a problem here?"

@WildRye

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Lets see how long I'll be able to stick around in this RP.

 

[Through the Living Elan He/Him]

4 hours ago, Spark of Hope said:

Jolane stopped at his table. “Can I get you anything, sir?” She looked a little too young to be working in a tavern. 

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What is this RP? Context? History?

 

[Through The Living Glass She/They]

16 minutes ago, Ancient Elantrian said:

 

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None besides the title.

Go read it from the beginning for context. 

 

[BlueWildRye he/him]

2 hours ago, The Bookwyrm said:

Ma'tani stared at the tavern from the outside. It had looked like a nice place to stay, certainly better than sneaking into some poor farmer's barn again, but now...

Maybe I'll just take a peek.

She ducked in the front door, her intricate robes swishing, only to see chaos ensuing. As she'd suspected. A horde of men in black hoods and torches stood at the center of the room. A bard was playing suspenseful music in the corner, which seemed...strange. A group of men like this wasn't something to make fun of with music. She'd only make the situation worse.

"Excuse me," she asked the hooded men, her To'atani accent showing her heritage, despite her skill with the local language. "Is there a problem here?"

@WildRye

 

Under the table, Rye was completely still. The hooded men turned to Ma'tani with gruff faces.

"There is a witch, a heathen, a DEVIL-WORSHIPPER IN YOUR MIDST!" one yelled. "He came from the village of Issor, goes by Rye. He created an... unholy contraption. It resembles and kills like a crossbow, only much more deadly, shooting little steel spheres and creating a sound like thunder. An instrument of demons!"

Rye snickered softly, a quiet, muffled sound, but made no more noises.

[ʟɪɢʜʈ]

3 hours ago, WildRye said:

Rye suddenly arose and jumped to his feet. "THEY'RE GOING TO BURN ME AT THE STAKE!!!!!" he screamed, then turned around and ran straight into the closed door. He staggered back, then ducked under the nearest table and threw his cloak over himself. A few moments later, the door opened, revealing a few angry men with black hoods and blazing torches.

10 minutes ago, WildRye said:

Under the table, Rye was completely still. The hooded men turned to Ma'tani with gruff faces.

"There is a witch, a heathen, a DEVIL-WORSHIPPER IN YOUR MIDST!" one yelled. "He came from the village of Issor, goes by Rye. He created an... unholy contraption. It resembles and kills like a crossbow, only much more deadly, shooting little steel spheres and creating a sound like thunder. An instrument of demons!"

Rye snickered softly, a quiet, muffled sound, but made no more noises.

Wit immediately knew there would be trouble. Fire. Dry room. Time to leave. He excused himself form the table of- he still didn't know the name of the man- and went to leave to room, passing the three men with torches on his way out. It was going to at least draw attention, whatever was to happen, and Wit thrived elsewhere. Besides, he didn't want a brawl to start.

[Through the Living Hope]

The tavern owner called in another tongue, and Jolane turned and came to him. He pushed her up the stairs and around the corner. She got one slight glimpse of the room, the mob and the evacuating man, before they left her line of sight entirely. 

[The Bookwyrm he/him]

28 minutes ago, ΨιτιsτηεΒέsτ said:

Wit immediately knew there would be trouble. Fire. Dry room. Time to leave. He excused himself form the table of- he still didn't know the name of the man- and went to leave to room, passing the three men with torches on his way out. It was going to at least draw attention, whatever was to happen, and Wit thrived elsewhere. Besides, he didn't want a brawl to start.

Ma'tani eyed the man who ducked behind her and headed for the door. She didn't blame him.

42 minutes ago, WildRye said:

Under the table, Rye was completely still. The hooded men turned to Ma'tani with gruff faces.

"There is a witch, a heathen, a DEVIL-WORSHIPPER IN YOUR MIDST!" one yelled. "He came from the village of Issor, goes by Rye. He created an... unholy contraption. It resembles and kills like a crossbow, only much more deadly, shooting little steel spheres and creating a sound like thunder. An instrument of demons!"

Rye snickered softly, a quiet, muffled sound, but made no more noises.

A projectile weapon...that sounds like thunder...is it true then? Or was he replicating the Shenai?

Ma'tani folded her arms. "First of all, if he is a 'witch' as you so claim, would he really be hiding in here? Ah-" she held up a hand. "I know you're going to say you saw him come in here, but if he did, he would have fled to the back rooms and out a window, keeping you stuck here while you argued with a group of perfectly innocent people whose night you just ruined. 

"And second, how do you know such a weapon is of demons? What if it's a gift from your god to protect your people and your lands?"

 

[Through the living jeff he/him(straight)]

1 hour ago, WildRye said:

Under the table, Rye was completely still. The hooded men turned to Ma'tani with gruff faces.

"There is a witch, a heathen, a DEVIL-WORSHIPPER IN YOUR MIDST!" one yelled. "He came from the village of Issor, goes by Rye. He created an... unholy contraption. It resembles and kills like a crossbow, only much more deadly, shooting little steel spheres and creating a sound like thunder. An instrument of demons!"

Rye snickered softly, a quiet, muffled sound, but made no more noises.

Spoiler

Bebe?

 

Edited August 25, 2024 by TwinSouls

[ʟɪɢʜʈ]

Out of the increasingly rowdy tavern, Wit sighed. He had no more business there anyways. He reflected somberly that any hope of getting shoes was as gone as his last job. The, on a more serious matter, he began walking and thinking to himself. It was quiet. Quiet and peaceful. And lonely. Wit had chosen this life. Adventure, excitement, skill, even money sometimes, but in the end, he always found himself walking away from a crowded home, alone. What would it feel like to even know there was a body next to him. What it be to converse with someone, without worrying about hat metal they held under the table? To tell someone about not his job, but about himself. What would it feel like to have friends, not just partners and acquaintances? Wit had chosen this life, but sometimes, sometimes he felt like e was lost. He knew where he was walking to, but when he paused at a fork in the road, Wit had no idea where he was going. What he was becoming. If he was becoming. Wit sat on a rock. He decided that he would sleep here. The tavern was in sight, but far enough away to be quiet. He would go back there in the morning then set off for another long journey. Alone. 

[Through The Living Glass She/They]

Niamh watched the barefoot man leave, the waitress get shuttled upstairs, and the man hiding under the table.

She also watched the flames from the mens' torches get very, very close to the wooden ceiling.

...Maybe it was no longer a good idea to worsen the mood. She stopped playing.

"If you are hunting a witch," she called to the men, "then perhaps you should remove your torches from the ceiling and actually begin looking?"

Edited August 25, 2024 by Through The Living Glass
spelling

[Through the living jeff he/him(straight)]

Souls snickers., then gets up to steal some rum.

[Through the Living Hope]

1 minute ago, ΨιτιsτηεΒέsτ said:

Out of the increasingly rowdy tavern, Wit sighed. He had no more business there anyways. He reflected somberly that any hope of getting shoes was as gone as his last job. The, on a more serious matter, he began walking and thinking to himself. It was quiet. Quiet and peaceful. And lonely. Wit had chosen this life. Adventure, excitement, skill, even money sometimes, but in the end, he always found himself walking away from a crowded home, alone. What would it feel like to even know there was a body next to him. What it be to converse with someone, without worrying about hat metal they held under the table? To tell someone about not his job, but about himself. What would it feel like to have friends, not just partners and acquaintances? Wit had chosen this life, but sometimes, sometimes he felt like e was lost. He knew where he was walking to, but when he paused at a fork in the road, Wit had no idea where he was going. What he was becoming. If he was becoming. Wit sat on a rock. He decided that he would sleep here. The tavern was in sight, but far enough away to be quiet. He would go back there in the morning then set off for another long journey. Alone. 

It was in the corner of the upper floor. Jolane’s room, if you could call it that. She had a feeling that it used to be a broom closet. It was all the space the tavern owner would let her occupy. 

A mat covered the floor. It was supposed to make it more comfortable, in theory. It only barely did so. A stuffed toy of some kind rested on the mat. She didn’t know what animal it was. The owner didn’t see it as important, and thus never told her. 

Apart from the outfit she now wore, she only had two others - one she wore alternating days with the current one, and one she wore to sleep. Anything more than that would, in the owner’s words, be too costly. 

There were only two ways for the room to get light. A candle and matches she’d bought with tips - the half the owner allowed her to keep, anyway - and a small window. Really, it was more a hole in the wall with a thin sheet of glass to stop the bugs from getting in. 

Looking through the window, she saw one of that night’s patrons sitting on a rock. Free to leave when he wanted with nothing tethering him back. With no one who would bring him back. 

She pulled up her sleeve and sighed. That couldn’t be the case for her. Just one look at that arm, and they would take her back here. That mark was known. After all, it was the logo of the most popular tavern in the village. 

She took one last, wistful look at him out the window. No, he wouldn’t notice. No one noticed. She was too menial, too small for notice. 

[BlueWildRye he/him]

1 hour ago, The Bookwyrm said:

Ma'tani eyed the man who ducked behind her and headed for the door. She didn't blame him.

A projectile weapon...that sounds like thunder...is it true then? Or was he replicating the Shenai?

Ma'tani folded her arms. "First of all, if he is a 'witch' as you so claim, would he really be hiding in here? Ah-" she held up a hand. "I know you're going to say you saw him come in here, but if he did, he would have fled to the back rooms and out a window, keeping you stuck here while you argued with a group of perfectly innocent people whose night you just ruined. 

"And second, how do you know such a weapon is of demons? What if it's a gift from your god to protect your people and your lands?"

 

The leader of the witch hunters scratched his head, then responded, "I know this witch. He may have the villainous mind to craft these abominations, but he is no good at quick thinking. He must have traded his soul, and by extension his decision making, for this knowledge! This is no gift of the Light God. I've seen it, and I've seen it in action. It kills... horribly. Do you know what else he created? Strange, small capsules that create explosions of fire and smoke, tearing living flesh from the bone!"

1 hour ago, Through The Living Glass said:

Niamh watched the barefoot man leave, the waitress get shuttled upstairs, and the man hiding under the table.

She also watched the flames from the mens' torches get very, very close to the wooden ceiling.

...Maybe it was no longer a good idea to worsen the mood. She stopped playing.

"If you are hunting a witch," she called to the men, "then perhaps you should remove your torches from the ceiling and actually start looking?"

The leader of the witch hunters laughed. "Hah! That is a good idea, lady. Men, search this inn!" The mob dispersed to look for Rye. Rye himself whimpered, then slowly crawled out from under the table, hoping no one would notice.

Then, he got up and ran, screaming as loud as he could, arms flailing in the air. Everyone who saw him noticed his eyes, almost entirely blood red from lack of sleep. The witch hunters shouted and gave chase, knocking over chairs, tables, and glasses of rum in their pursuit of the "witch". Smoke ominously filled the room, and the torches' flames seemed to grow higher and higher, as if they had become filled with anticipation of the chase. Rye ran up the stairs and into the first room he found, breaking down the door without any regard for privacy or... well, anything really. He paused as he saw the young woman inside, then produced a small sheet of paper from his pockets and threw it at her.

"DON'T LET THEM FIND IT. DON'T SHOW IT TO ANYONE."

@Spark of Hope

[Through the Living Hope]

4 minutes ago, WildRye said:

The leader of the witch hunters scratched his head, then responded, "I know this witch. He may have the villainous mind to craft these abominations, but he is no good at quick thinking. He must have traded his soul, and by extension his decision making, for this knowledge! This is no gift of the Light God. I've seen it, and I've seen it in action. It kills... horribly. Do you know what else he created? Strange, small capsules that create explosions of fire and smoke, tearing living flesh from the bone!"

The leader of the witch hunters laughed. "Hah! That is a good idea, lady. Men, search this inn!" The mob dispersed to look for Rye. Rye himself whimpered, then slowly crawled out from under the table, hoping no one would notice.

Then, he got up and ran, screaming as loud as he could, arms flailing in the air. Everyone who saw him noticed his eyes, almost entirely blood red from lack of sleep. The witch hunters shouted and gave chase, knocking over chairs, tables, and glasses of rum in their pursuit of the "witch". Smoke ominously filled the room, and the torches' flames seemed to grow higher and higher, as if they had become filled with anticipation of the chase. Rye ran up the stairs and into the first room he found, breaking down the door without any regard for privacy or... well, anything really. He paused as he saw the young woman inside, then produced a small sheet of paper from his pockets and threw it at her.

"DON'T LET THEM FIND IT. DON'T SHOW IT TO ANYONE."

@Spark of Hope

She said nothing, but after a few moments frozen she put it down the front of her dress.