Re: Sephiris: The Price of Peace - OOC

[Kalon Ordona II]

. : Name : .
Full Name: Zephyr Raine
Use Name: Zeph is most common.
Other: Mage of Storms, though this is an uncommonly used title.
Played by: The Count

. : Appearance : .
Height and Build: Zephyr is a dragon, a tad on the small side. I haven't been able to find the characteristics of each species, so I'll say human-size, barely, with enormous wings. Zeph lacks physical strength and power, due to his intense studying on his storm magic, but he is lean and fit from his various adventures.
Description: Zephyr is a blue dragon, a handsome sapphire, with gray tattoos all over the otherwise monochrome hide. They are for the most part symmetrical, but for a cyclone tattoo on his forehead.
Clothing: Zephyr is not strong, as mentioned, and leans toward light chain mail underneath an unassuming gray cloak with blue designs on it, the exact opposite of his skin. The cloak is voluminous to cover him entirely, and is enchanted with simple defense magicks. However, it does have the rather unusual talent of offense; swirling it at a target generates a small cyclone! This is a way to attack even when Zephyr's magical energy is completely depleted.

Around his neck hangs a simple sapphire and silver pendant in the shape of a seven-pointed star. This is the symbol of the Order of Storms, the order of monks to which Zephyr belongs. It is unenchanted.
Weapons: Zephyr's main weapon is his mind, though he is skilled with the quarterstave as well, and carries around a sturdy traveling staff of elm. It, too, is unenchanted, save for the magic that cut it straight and polished it to prevent scratching and breakage. It is quite a work of art, and Zephyr has carried it for many years.
Other: Zephyr conceals many small wands in his sleeves, adhered through magic. They all are of equal power and can summon all of the same spells.
Impression: Diminutive, calm, impassive, disconcerting.

. : Heritage : .
Age: Life span is enormous when you're a dragon. I'd say about one hundred and four, simply because he's such a high-ranking monk with a lot of magical experience.
Birthplace: Derp. Somewhere. Probably at sea, but it's really an unknown.
Family: Unknown; he was delivered to the monastery an orphan.
Inheritance: Only experience and the staff and cloak, as a parting gift. He also received the Head Monk's blessing after leaving home.
Other: He's a monk. What else is he going to have?

. : Persona : .
Biography: Zephyr was delivered to the Monastery of Storms as a baby orphaned dragon, complete with cyclone tattoos and all that. Thus, they aren't really tattoos, they're birthmarks. The monastery was more than willing to take him in, being a kind Order who knew that the dragon, should he prove willing and able to learn their magic, would be a powerful dragon-mage someday.

Zeph proved more than willing and more than able, showing an aptitude for wind and water magic not normally shown among his kind, who for the most part devoted themselves to wind and fire instead. His affinity for these elements piqued the interest of the good monks, who promptly escalated his training. Faster, faster he learned; he was learning spells that only high-ranking magi used at a very early age! Well, comparatively. They'd gone to the next High Monk at about that time, so the change in leadership was mostly to blame. He was about fifty to fifty-five at that time.

Well, a monastery is all very well and good, but being holed up in a small villagey place is no way to raise a dragon, and the next High Monk began to send him out on various errands. These errands eventually escalated into journeys of many weeks at a time, which was more than enough to sate Zephyr's adolescent cravings for rambling quests and mass destruction.

His last adventure, which started just a month after his one hundredth birthday, saw the newest High Monk (he'd seen four or five of them by then) granting him the gifts mentioned above. That High Monk showed an exceptional love of magic, and was able to enchant all of Zeph's things with their respective spells. He then turned the dragon out into the world, proclaiming that if this wasn't done soon, the monastery would be out of food and space for the growing dragon. Thus, Zephyr began his wandering career, living quite nicely off the land for four years in a little hut he constructed with his own two hands. (Note: The wands were fashioned at this point in Zephyr's life, not as a gift from the High Monk. Everything else was granted to him by that particular figure of authority).

...

That's it. No traumatic events, just a nice and explanatory life story.
Motivation: Zephyr, due to his small size and unusual choice of elemental magic, is rather humble and deferential, but he can get rather motivated about something he cares about. Er. Like, say, breathing. Or sleeping. If he needs something, he'll get quite motivated about it, I think.
Skills and Talents: Zephyr Raine is a Storm-Mage-Monk (Storm-Mage or Storm-Monk, for short), meaning he has command of Wind and Water magicks. He's a rather advanced caster, and has even made up his own spells as he sat in his hut or fished for his supper. Psht. As if he ever needed to fish, when he is a sea dragon. Swimming and catching food > waiting for it to bite a silly worm. So, as he swam and caught for his supper.
Strengths: Zephyr is rational and logical, but he is also caring and gentle, the symbolic strengths of his Order. He's a bit fiery-tempered, but don't tell him that or he'll freak out.
Weaknesses: Eurgh, fire. Zephyr...doesn't like fire. He can handle lightning, the dark, the day, the creepies, the etc.'s, but he can't handle the wildfires - or some showoffey dragons.
Personality: Zephyr, being a monk, is fanatically disciplined, and can maintain calm even in the midst of a hurricane, excepting, of course, that there is no major fire about.

Hmmmmmmm....

I think I should assign you some homework. Reading the RP isn't necessary, but you should be much more aware of the setting than you currently seem to be.

Before I get into that, though, here are the things that need to be changed, so that you appreciate where I'm coming from.


1: The name won't work for a dragon. All dragon names have three syllables, with the stress on the first. Dragons have no surnames. Dragons have caste titles.

2: There are no specific classes of mages. It's all words, and the dragons know the words anyway. The point is how good you are at saying the words.

3: Dragon's aren't on the small side. You'd have to have some sort of deficiency to be human height, and that would be an awful stigma.

4: No dragon in this setting is blue.

5: Enchantments aren't really in the scope of dragon magic--at least not the kind of enchantments that can make their own magic.

6: Dragons tend to be secular, so if they have monks they'd have to be more the shao-lin variety. We'll have to work out the details.

7: Wands, no.

8: If he was high-ranking, he wouldn't be a monk. He would be among the ruling class.

9: We can figure out a birthplace together if you like.

10: The thing about wearing cloaks, when you're a dragon, is those tails. And oh yeah, those wings. Not really the cloak-wearing type, dragons.

11: Tattoos, maybe. Birthmarks, no. Unless there's a very good reason--like someone put them on with magic.

12: You don't "learn magic" to be good at magic, unless you're a human. If you're a dragon, all you do is exercise your voice to be good at magic.

13: Again, there aren't affinities for different kinds of magic. Any dragon can do any magic if they have the vocal ability and the physical strength. It's the prodigies who are born with great voices who rule the dragon lands; the rest have to work at their voices to rise the caste ladder. And of course, the ones at the top have to keep their voices in good condition.

All you need to make your own spells is imagination and wisdom--and the stamina and precision to do it all in one breath without wavering.

14: If there's one thing every--every--dragon has an affinity for, it is fire.


So, here's what I need you to read.
The first five posts of the IC thread.
The first three posts of this OOC.
After that, since you're making a dragon, reread the section on Dragons in the second post of this OOC, on the first page.
And, since you're making a mage, reread the item about magic in the "list of things to remember" in the first post of this OOC.
And, finally, read the Character Profile for Sehra-sithred S'harahe. I have three main characters in this RP, one from each race, and that one is my dragon. It should give you a good example of a dragon in this setting. Especially read the biography.

After that, you'll be equipped for a second draft of your character. If you like, I can help you choose a birthplace, and we can even come up with some sort of monk group.

If you'd like, I can also translate Zephyr into dragon language and then make a name of it for you to use.

I hope you'll enjoy the process. I'm here if you have any questions along the way. Really, ask me anything, either via PM or here in the OOC. I'm more than happy to guide you through it step by step, and I can give detailed explanations if you need further understanding on something after you've read what's already there.

Good luck! Looking forward to seeing your character develop.

One thing I like about him so far is that he's very disciplined and calm under pressure. That's a very, very important quality to have if you're going to be a mage in this setting.

[Blackrock]

Welcome aboard, Count! Good luck with that homework

@Silvone: I've been a bad boy, I admit. I only have a few paragraphs left to go, but somehow I haven't gotten round to it yet. I'll get my game together today and tomorrow and finish writing them out, then I'll do some editing (definitely needs some since we put that together over such a long period of time ) and it should be set. Expect it soon!

As for the candle clocks, I was strictly thinking of them in human terms, even though I never mentioned that - in hindsight. They just sounded like something which would fit in nicely with their religious society, used in ceremonies and the like. Elves, as Kalon pointed out, would use their astronomical knowledge instead, something which I thought as well. It does indeed sound like Dragons would use something more...mystical in nature to keep track of time. And I agree that the idea might have originated from there (trade is a perfect way for societies to exchange ideas). Candles don't seem fitting, but yes - those lodestones you mentioned might do the trick; some might have even found their way into the hands of human nobles and the like. Maybe the idea came from that part of human society in the first place? Getting a large number of..."dragon stones" was a problem though, so the idea with the candles came about.

I dunno, I'm leaving that one to you, Kalon. I've got two human characters - I don't need or want any of your fancy dragon magical...thingies! Noooo sirrr, we simple folk are just fine with our candles.

[Kalon Ordona II]

I like that idea, actually, Blackrock. The stones can be quite rare, so only few humans would have them, but it gave them the idea for more precise time-keeping, so they came up with the candle clock. Works for me!

I'm still working on the post. Emoria's slowed me down, but I'm working through my to-do list with as much focus as I can muster. I waver sometimes, but progress is definitely being made.

[Count]

...

Okay.


. : Name : .
Full Name: Tarrisir Sa-Rall (it should be noted that the name arose from shedding dragon culture and caste and simply combining previous words. He will obtain a caste once his place in society has been set, though it is likely that he will use a chosen name forever. For sake of reference, his given name was Garanis Shin-K’harar)
Use Name: Tarrisir.
Other: Er...Hermit.
Played by: The Count

. : Appearance : .
Height and Build: Tarrisir stays hunched over for most of the time, dressed in a long, cumbersome cloak that hides his malformed and useless wings. His horns are small and decidedly unmagnificent, and all told he stands at only six foot nine straight up, let alone hunched. His skin is an odd shade of charcoal gray that came from not having very much of a bath for many years. Underneath, it is a gently pale tan, a quite even complexion indeed. His horns are solid black, with no rings whatsoever.
Description: Tarrisiror has a cyclone tattoo on his forehead, but no markings anywhere else save for the scars on his back. His eyes seem to glow from the depths of his hood, though this is just an illusion...right? His tail, long and swishy, sticks out underneath the hem of his cloak and twitches about as though it is a striking snake, while the clawed feet and hands warn anyone who wishes to underestimate him as a weak and unguarded human to think twice. Due to having used them extensively to hunt and kill while out in the wilderness, they are wickedly sharp, and he is proficient at using them.
Clothing: Tarrisir wears light chain mail underneath his voluminous (and this isn't just a simple modifier; the cloak really is quite large) cloak. If needs be, he can conceal himself completely in its folds and become a heap of cloth; it's really big. I cannot stress this enough.
Weapons: Tarrisir, underneath his cloak, carries a small canister-looking thingie that, when activated with its owner's touch, will extend into a slim but strong wooden staff, which he can wield with efficiency. He also has a retractable sword hilt and a whip attached to his belt. The whip, as you may have guessed, shoots out at his touch, and the sword as well.
Other: Nothing. While the dragon may seem as though he is ready for anything, he really isn't. He doesn't like violence very much, and will do all in his power to avoid a conflict whenever possible. When he is attacked, however, or in times of great need, he will draw a weapon and go on the offensive. Oh, except for the staff and maybe the whip. Those can be useful even in non-combat situations!
Impression: Pitiable, submissive, poor, miserable

. : Heritage : .
Age: About seventy.
Birthplace: The far outskirts of Sakira-thani.
Family: Tarrisir is a bit of a hermit. He lives out in the wilderness, which is why his name, Tarrisir Sa-Rall, so reflects his love of nature. His family expelled him into the world, so he considers himself without any family in the world.
Inheritance: Nothing but memories.
Other: He was disowned as a boy.

. : Persona : .
Biography: Tarrisir was born to an extremely poor farmer's family on the outskirts of town. His mother and father were clumsy and inept at magic, and so were all of Tarrisir' younger brothers and sisters. They barely got by, just making enough to put food on the table.

Tarrisir refused to talk. He did not even cry, preferring to crawl and tug for what he wanted. His parents feared the worst for him, thinking him a mute, and indeed he was ridiculed as one as all of his siblings turned out the normal way and began to tease him. They laughed and scorned his lack of any vocal talent, full of pride that they could talk, that they could sing, that they could do everything and that their brother couldn't. It was one of the saddest times in Tarrisir' life, and he never fully recovered from it.

As he exited dragon school, mute since the hour of his birth, he was set upon by his father, angry and drunken and ready to kill the son who had brought him such shame. Tarrisir immediately saw the danger and flew off, beating his wings in frantic rhythm. Now, if there was anything that Tarrisir excelled at, it was flying. The taunts ended at flying class (or whatever Dragon P.E. is called) and he would soar into the sky, leaving hardship and worry behind as he flew for the grace of the sky. He might have excelled at some sort of sport had the rest of the dragons not cared for such trivialities.

Anyway, he flew for many miles, weaving his way between mountain peaks and swooping along rivers and lakes, sobbing openly as he left the only home he'd ever known. His father stayed right behind him for most of the journey, strong and angry from working hard for most of his life and with enough rage to kill his firstborn son, but even he could not keep up with the younger and more skilled flyer. The farmer turned back, hoping to never see his shameful son again. Tarrisir landed many miles after that, exhausted completely, and built a small camp before falling fast asleep.

He lived as a hermit for a few decades, growing older and wiser by each day. He learned how to fashion excellent clothes for himself out of the skins of wild animals combined with wood mashed into a pulp and pasted on both sides of the skins for resiliency, even texture, and appearance. He still did not emit a single sound from his vocal cords.

One day, the hermit Tarrisir Sa-Rall grew lonely. His wild and exciting life simply could not compare to the many thousands of dragon voices in the cities of his kind, and he was getting to the point where he felt the coming of age quite well, and desiring a lady friend. Cough.

Tarrisir began the long and exhausting journey back to the city. He retraced the flight he made many decades ago and finally arrived back at the farmhouse where he was born. It was no more. Someone or something had completely destroyed it years before Tarrisir had arrived, and the now aging dragon paid his respects to the spirits of any of his dead family members. He did not know that they were all dead; had he, he might have slain himself then and there from grief and anguish, silent until the very second of his death!

But it was not to be, and the aged dragon made his way back to the main city, feeling twice as old as before (he did not even know how old that was!). His wings were beginning to feel strained, but the hermit in his pain and desire did not feel a single thing. As he arrived in the city, he felt himself losing elevation and began to panic. His wings were simply breaking as he continued to use them, and the only way to save himself was to use them more and destroy them completely! Tarrisir spiraled to a safe, if not comfortable and definitely painful landing, the last of his wings simply breaking to almost nothing. All that was left was the skeletal fingers of his wing and the weak, dangerously overexerted muscle that extended it to full length. Ashamed and feeling weak and vulnerable, the crippled dragon made his way over to the woods outside the city, blindly beating a hasty retreat to the woods he so cherished.

It was then that he fashioned his massive cloak, working furiously to balance out the eternal shame of being wingless, voiceless, and ugly in a world where all three traits decided everything. His back gained a near-permanent hunch from this incredible feat of work, and when the dragon entered the city once more, eager to meet some dragon ladies, he was a true dragon hunchback, a reject of society.

It was then that he heard the dragon princess, Sehra-sithred S'Harahe, sing her welcome to the sun out of her window; the hermit had worked tirelessly all night long! The dragon, unused to society and general draconic good-voice scale, heard her angelic voice and instantly fell transfixed, enraptured by her beauteous voice.

It was then that Tarrisir emitted his first sound since he had been born, over seventy years prior to that moment, a hoarse and weak call that only used one set of vocal cords, yet sounded as though they were simple lowish notes of the other set. As he brought in the other set of cords in on the same note, he began to hum gently. There were no words, and thus no actual magic, but Tarrisir felt suffused with life and peace, and instinctively knew that this was the course he must follow.

The hermit dragon made his way over to his old school, and, rasping in his new voice, asked if the schoolteachers would have pity on and old hermit and aid him with his voice. The schoolteacher-dragon looked at him with surprise, but nonetheless acquiesced for a little light training, with a sense that it probably would give her some overtime money. To her astonishment, the dragon displayed a vocal ability beyond the ordinary; probably enough to rival or even surpass their princess, Sehra Sithred-S’Harahe! The schoolteacher was floored, and immediately began to teach the hermit all about magic. Her shock was extreme at learning that the old man had been a mute for all of his life, only having recovered his voice after the past hour, and the surprise was doubled at the memory of having taught one such student in her career. Immediately aflame with shame and guilt, she taught the hermit all she knew about magic, which he absorbed easily and eagerly, needing magic to counter all of his various shortcomings.

When he was done, he thanked the schoolteacher warmly and hugged her (for a while longer than probably should have been polite), knowing that he might never see her again. He then retired to the woods for many more years, fashioning and enchanting various tools that would help him in self-defense, too. By the time he had reached the ripe old age of seventy, he was ready to return to civilization, weapons/tools in tow. Being in the woods for so long gave him peace and strength, and he knew that he would have to endure taunting for as long as he stayed in the city, but he went anyway.

It was then that he learned of the great quest to find Zephiris

Motivation: Tarrisir is fueled by a desire to know all about magic and to greet it as an old friend whenever he needed to call upon it. Having been alienated as a youth, he knew next to nothing about Zephiris or any other history of Telmar, and desires to know all he can about the world he lives in.
Skills and Talents: Tarrisir' voice is his most powerful asset, allowing him to conjure up powerful spells. He can also wield his three weapons/tools with alacrity and efficiency, using techniques he made up himself.
Strengths: Tarrisir, through many years in the wilderness, gained many survival skills from his experiences. His voice is a voice of gold, able to recite all but the most complicated and difficult of spells, and the vocal cords have fantastic range and overlap.
Weaknesses: Tarrisir can be completely and totally infatuated with attractive females of any race. The hermit is also fascinated with civilization, and is easily distracted by things he considers exciting or new. His fantastically huge overlap also means that, when he’s agitated, he can easily accidentally cause things to happen. So don’t get him agitated, or else things could explode.
Personality: Humble, calm, peaceful, occasionally lustful.

Edity edity edit. I added bits about his magical strengths, because I now know stuff about them!

He’s got all that talent for magic because he isn’t strong, fast, aerial, pretty, or even clean. That last one will probably change soon, though. Oh, and the weapons are for things he can’t take care of with his claws. The quarterstave is nonlethal, the machete can cut through underbrush, and the whip can get some nice distance in and also grab things without impaling them.

[Digital Muse]

Your back ground is nothing. Here, our resident monster poster, Blackrock, had a post of over 25,000 words. We prefer it be thorough as opposed to rushed.

[Count]

^_^ Good. I'm just not used to posting enormous backstories, preferring to save them for IC filler when simple action-reaction falls short of a fleshy and/or substantial post, but writing the life's story of a seventy-year old hermit proved a longer piece than originally planned. Although it's nothing compared to my other magi, where I have to actually write out all of their abilities and spells. And, in Cyquen's case, all of the spells of his spells. And then one of them had spells of spells of spells; madness! But it was fun to write :3 I think I'll fit in well here.

Speaking of Blackrock, I promised to make him a pacifist battlemage /guilty

I'd better go do that now.

[Kalon Ordona II]

Better, but there are a few things.

Firstly, there are places where we should rephrase. As it is now, a lot of it sounds too much Out-of-Character. I prefer to keep all the profiles as in-character as possible. That is, we don't break the fourth wall and address the writers. This way it feels a lot cleaner and more believable and generally more enjoyable to read.

Secondly, the name is still wrong--it's only two syllables. Perhaps something like... Tazaris, Tarriseth, Targaris, Tartaras, Tarranis. The caste-title you have doesn't exist. These are the castes.
Sithred K'handrar (1st high-caste), Higeth K'handrar (2nd high-caste), Dregan K'handrar (3rd high-caste), Shanin K'handrar (4th high-caste), Sith K'harar (1st middle-caste), High K'harar (2nd middle-caste), Dregh K'harar (3rd middle-caste), Shin K'harar (4th middle caste), Sil K'hir (1st low-caste), Hil K'hir (2nd low-caste), Drel K'hir (3rd low-caste), Shal K'hir (4th low-caste)
If he has no voice at all, he would not even have a caste-title. He'd be considered lower than lowest. Until it's discovered what an awesome voice he has, of course. I would consider making Sa-Rall some sort of lower-than-low caste title, perhaps.

Which leads to the third item. It seems you don't fully understand dragon magic yet, so here's a deeper explanation.
Dragons have two sets of vocal cords, a high voice and a low voice. When they get angry, they tend to use both voices at once. Or they can use both voices when they sing. Generally, though, it's impolite to use both voices in casual conversation. You might use one or the other in different circumstances. Servants, for example, probably tend to use the high voice to come across submissive and extra polite. The low voice could be more for sober conversation or public speaking. And each voice has a good range of highs and lows in itself.
Now here's the important part. To do magic, dragons have to say the words with BOTH voices in RESONANCE. That means, both their low voice and their high voice have to be going at the same time, at the exact same note. That means they're stretching their high voice as low as possible, and their low voice as high as possible. It's hard. Very hard. Just try it yourself--not your lowest comfortable note, now, your Lowest Note; now try your highest, and no falsetto; it's tiring and straining. You have to train yourself to do that without scratching your throat or overstraining your tendons or however the biology works, and you have to work up to being able to do it for extended periods of time, and try to stretch lower and higher with training.
The more notes your voices overlap, the more options are available to you for magic. Having a "good voice" isn't enough. You have to have range, coordination, some natural talent or good training. Magic isn't a game. You get it wrong, unpredictable stuff happens. You say the wrong word, your life energy could be sucked out of you until you die. Or the spell might just fizzle and do nothing. It all depends on the spell and what the mistake was.

Now, how does the magic apply to this character?
Well, let's say he has a first-rate voice. That's all well and good, but does he even know how to use it for magic? If everyone all his life thought he was mute, worthless, there's no way they'd waste time teaching him how to do it. You don't teach a blind person to paint; you don't teach a mute person to sing. Let's just say, though, that the old dragon is a sort of prodigy and has an instinct for this sort of thing. He still doesn't know what he's doing if he's lived on his own most of his life. He doesn't know how to do magic, and he'd better not try, because as soon as he takes a breath (after saying any word in resonance--only solitary vowels are safe) the magic is released, doing whatever words were spoken even if it makes no sense. He could easily kill himself or cause all sorts of havoc, assuming he figured out to stretch both voices at once to the same note and talk/sing a string of words.

And then after that, he STILL would DEFINITELY not have a cloak that soaks up magic, like I just said. Animal hide doesn't work like that, and singing notes doesn't grant it that ability. It would be a spell beyond his ability.

And oh yes, the skin color ranges from light to dark tan. S'harahe's skin is about the lightest it can possibly be, almost white. But gray won't work. They're actually mammals, these dragons. They don't have scales, just skin.

Let's see, was that everything...?
Phrasing
Name
Caste
Magic
Cloak
Skin

Weapon! I'd like more detail on that. It sounds interesting, but where in the world did he get such a thing as a hermit? A staff I can see. Remember too that dragons have claws. He might be good with those. Sort of on the wild side, perhaps, living out in the wilderness?

I think that was everything. Wasn't there one other thing, though?
*reads back*
Oh right. If you were wondering, S'harahe is pronounced (s-HAR-uh-hay). That's the proper pronunciation, anyway, where the S is actually part of the first syllable. The apostrophe is mostly to avoid a SH sound. Humans, though, probably mispronounce this as (suh-HAR-uh-hay), and that's totally fine. The dragons understand. ^_^

[Count]

Hmm...I think I'll be editing the profile to avoid reposting. As the weapon thingie could be a bit of an issue, I think I'll add something of that nature to the backstory.

I already did a little bit of fixing, but it needs a lot more before it can be truly "fixed" X_X

[Kalon Ordona II]

No worries, I'll be here and happy to help you through it.

Oh, there are no O's in dragon language. Tarriser, Tarrisir, Tarrisar, & Garenis, Garanis, Garinis, if you just want to replace the vowel.

[Count]

I'll edit that in with the rest of the additions sometime soon.

TT_TT Curse you, internets, for not having a Replace function!

[Kalon Ordona II]

You could just paste it into a Word document or even a Wordpad. Both of those have a Replace function.
I normally save my stuff into documents anyway, so it's not even an extra step for me. ^_^

[Blackrock]

The joint Ragner/Rurik (the fearsome R's, rawr!) post is up. I don't know why it took us such a long time - probably somewhere close to half a year - but me and Silvone certainly took our time. Hopefully, the next one will come sooner

I've went through the text a few times before submitting, but as I've been starring at this bad boy for months now, there's probably something wrong which I've totally forgotten to detect. Shouldn't be too bad though, if you guys see something off while reading - do call me out on it. No rush though

[Kalon Ordona II]

Good post. I liked Rurik's outburst. It made me laugh and like him. xD

Didn't see any errors, but one thing throughout that was confusing. When starting a new paragraph in dialogue, if it's the same speaker, there shouldn't be an ending quotation until the end.

I say, "Thus must it be.
"And so it is."
And the other me responds, "Indeed."
"Kinda cool," the first me says.
"And interesting if you do it with a long amount of speech. Sometimes people can be long winded and have to organize what they say.
"So we add a quote at the beginning of the new paragraph, but not at the end of the last one.
"So everyone knows it's the same speaker." The second me nods happily after his long speech.
"Agreed," I say.

You can indent more than I do, of course. The point is we need to be able to tell who's speaking.
Most of the time, I try to avoid having multiple paragraphs for the same speaker at a time, so I don't have to worry about it. If the speaker is talking for a long time, though, it's helpful to separate his words into multiple paragraphs.
Quotation marks. They have their quirks. ^_^

[Blackrock]

Hah, that's a very good point, Kalon! I actually really thought on how to do those longer speeches. Obviously, a massive wall of text - while I've seen some authors/editors use it - wasn't to my liking; I usually toss in a character action between the lines so it feels more natural (eg: "picks his nose", "coughs" etc.) but I felt I was overdoing it. So I just told myself that I might as well split it up, the trick with leaving the closing quotation mark for the end was seriously something I never considered before.

Once again, this humble word-neophyte bows down to your wisdom

[Guest]

Great post, Blackrock!

I am going to be working on both Ragner's next post and Barthon's next post, including other things, so it may be a while before the next post is up. I'll PM you for character lines as we've been doing once I am ready.

[Count]

Okay, I think he's done.

[Kalon Ordona II]

Cool.

A reminder: This is an advanced role-play. We take the story and setting seriously, and the tone is formal or realistic, or you might say believable. In other words, this isn't a light-hearted game. We're going for publish-worthy content.

So, to save you the trouble, I took the liberty of polishing it up a bit, so you have a good idea of the sort of standard or tone we're going for. Here are the changes I made to the edit below.

1. I took out the "Other" name category. If you'd like me to create a word for "hermit" or "outcast" and turn it into a derogatory idiom to call him, though, I'd be happy to.
2. I took out the glowing eyes and the "swishy" on the tail--the description of it twitching gets the idea across and the word "swishy" seemed to jar the suspension of disbelief.
3. I changed "a weak and unguarded human" to "weak and unguarded." It would be flat-out impossible to mistake a dragon for a human, no matter how hunched they were.
4. I changed "thingie" to "item" in the weapons category. I also changed "activated with its owner's touch" to "activated by a secret mechanism," since the original description implied magical enchantment. Same with the whip and sword.
5. In "Other" appearance, I took out the smiley and changed the last sentence to "Though the staff and the whip can be useful even in non-combat situations." The change is to be more efficient and have a more serious tone.
6. I added "dangerous" to the "Impression" appearance category, since his sharp claws make people think twice.
7. I changed "About seventy." Dragon numbering is Base 12, so divide 70 by 12, 5.8. That means we use the fifth two-digit number word in the Dragon language. 5 times 12 is 60, so you want the "10" or A number in base 12, which will be the tenth single-digit word. So, 70 in base 10 is 5A in base 12, and 5A in my dragon language is "tekel gara." So, for Age I put: 'Tekel gara. Humans would say "seventy."'
8. I changed flying class to flying lessons, since I'm not really sure how it works either, but it's definitely not P.E. like in school. Also "Anyway" in the next paragraph to "Regardless," to sound more formal.
9. I changed the 'lady friend' bit to "desiring to find a mate."
10. I changed the schoolteacher to mistress of magic and took out references to Tarrisir's age being "old." He's not old, he's barely middle-aged; the average dragon lifespan is 200.
11. I changed his going on the Zephiris quest to trying to find S'harahe. He doesn't know about the Zephiris quest. None of the dragons know it's about Sephiris. And he's probably barely if ever even heard about humans at all, let alone what their religion is. But he does know S'harahe, so that seemed the easiest thing to replace his drive.
12. I took out "cause things to explode" and just said that unpredictable things could happen. And watch out, too. Unstable magic use is of far more danger to the wielder than it could ever be to the outside world. If you have him say something unstable, you might not like what I decide might happen out of it. If you use italics for dragon speech, I'm going to translate it myself and do exactly what the words say, even if it kills your character. Dragons can do a lot, but there are some spells that will demand more energy than they could ever have. Moving a hill, for example, or trying to bring back the dead. Also, unstable magic is even worse than no magic at all--it would be an actual crime, because it means you're so irresponsible with your temper that you'd let your voice do that apart from your control, which means you're a danger to society directly proportional to how high a level you are. Any dragon upon hearing another dragon do such a thing would either gag him and lock him up or try to kill him on the spot. If Tarrisir is one of the highest castes, and it's obvious he's just talking angry in resonance, without apparent control, their reaction would be, like, You SO Get To Die. In fact, for a high-caste dragon to lack such basic control, the ruler of Sakira-thani would hear about it very soon and probably execute him himself. So he'd better learn to control it or be careful who he hangs around with.


. : Name : .
Full Name: Tarrisir Sa-Rall (it should be noted that the name arose from shedding dragon culture and caste and simply combining previous words. He will obtain a caste once his place in society has been set, though it is likely that he will use a chosen name forever. For sake of reference, his given name was Garanis Shin-K’harar)
Use Name: Tarrisir
Played by: The Count

. : Appearance : .
Height and Build: Tarrisir stays hunched over for most of the time, dressed in a long, cumbersome cloak that hides his malformed and useless wings. His horns are small and decidedly unmagnificent, and all told he stands at only six foot nine straight up, let alone hunched. His skin is an odd shade of charcoal gray that came from not having very much of a bath for many years. Underneath, it is a gently pale tan, a quite even complexion indeed. His horns are solid black, with no rings whatsoever.
Description: Tarrisir has a cyclone tattoo on his forehead, but no markings anywhere else save for the scars on his back. His his long tail sticks out from underneath the hem of his cloak and twitches about as though it is a striking snake, while the clawed feet and hands warn anyone who wishes to underestimate him as weak and unguarded to think twice. Due to having used them extensively to hunt and kill while out in the wilderness, they are wickedly sharp, and he is proficient at using them.
Clothing: Tarrisir wears light chain mail underneath his voluminous cloak. (And this isn't just a simple modifier; the cloak really is quite large. If needs be, he can conceal himself completely in its folds and become a heap of cloth; it's really big. I cannot stress this enough.)
Weapons: Tarrisir, underneath his cloak, carries a small canister-looking item that, when activated by a secret mechanism, will extend into a slim but strong wooden staff, which he can wield with efficiency. He also has a retractable sword hilt and a whip attached to his belt. Both the whip and sword, possessing a similar mechanism to the staff, extend when triggered.
Other: Nothing. While the dragon may seem as though he is ready for anything, he really isn't. He doesn't like violence very much, and will do all in his power to avoid a conflict whenever possible. When he is attacked, however, or in times of great need, he will draw a weapon and go on the offensive. Though the staff and the whip can be useful even in non-combat situations.
Impression: Pitiable, submissive, poor, miserable, dangerous

. : Heritage : .
Age: Tekel gara. Humans would say "seventy."
Birthplace: The far outskirts of Sakira
Family: Tarrisir is a bit of a hermit. He lives out in the wilderness, which is why his name, Tarrisir Sa-Rall, so reflects his love of nature. His family expelled him into the world, so he considers himself without any family in the world.
Inheritance: Nothing but memories.
Other: He was disowned as a boy.

. : Persona : .
Biography: Tarrisir was born to an extremely poor farmer's family on the outskirts of town. His mother and father were clumsy and inept at magic, and so were all of Tarrisir' younger brothers and sisters. They barely got by, just making enough to put food on the table.

Tarrisir refused to talk. He did not even cry, preferring to crawl and tug for what he wanted. His parents feared the worst for him, thinking him a mute, and indeed he was ridiculed as one as all of his siblings turned out the normal way and began to tease him. They laughed and scorned his lack of any vocal talent, full of pride that they could talk, that they could sing, that they could do everything and that their brother couldn't. It was one of the saddest times in Tarrisir's life, and he never fully recovered from it.

As he exited dragon school, mute since the hour of his birth, he was set upon by his father, angry and drunken and ready to kill the son who had brought him such shame. Tarrisir immediately saw the danger and flew off, beating his wings in frantic rhythm. Now, if there was anything that Tarrisir excelled at, it was flying. The taunts ended during flying lessons, and he would soar into the sky, leaving hardship and worry behind as he flew for the grace of the sky. He might have excelled at some sort of sport had the rest of the dragons not cared for such trivialities.

Regardless, he flew for many miles, weaving his way between mountain peaks and swooping along rivers and lakes, sobbing openly as he left the only home he'd ever known. His father stayed right behind him for most of the journey, strong and angry from working hard for most of his life and with enough rage to kill his firstborn son, but even he could not keep up with the younger and more skilled flyer. The farmer turned back, hoping to never see his shameful son again. Tarrisir landed many miles after that, exhausted completely, and built a small camp before falling fast asleep.

He lived as a hermit for a few decades, growing older and wiser by each day. He learned how to fashion excellent clothes for himself out of the skins of wild animals combined with wood mashed into a pulp and pasted on both sides of the skins for resiliency, even texture, and appearance. He still did not emit a single sound from his vocal cords.

One day, the hermit Tarrisir Sa-Rall grew lonely. His wild and exciting life simply could not compare to the many thousands of dragon voices in the cities of his kind, and he was getting to the point where he felt the coming of age quite well, desiring a mate.

Tarrisir began the long and exhausting journey back to the city. He retraced the flight he made many decades ago and finally arrived back at the farmhouse where he was born. It was no more. Someone or something had completely destroyed it years before Tarrisir had arrived, and the now the aging dragon paid his respects to the spirits of any of his dead family members. He did not know that they were all dead; had he, he might have slain himself then and there from grief and anguish, silent until the very second of his death!

But it was not to be, and the aged dragon made his way back to the main city, feeling twice as old as before (he did not even know how old that was!). His wings were beginning to feel strained, but the hermit in his pain and desire did not feel a single thing. As he arrived in the city, he felt himself losing elevation and began to panic. His wings were simply breaking as he continued to use them, and the only way to save himself was to use them more and destroy them completely! Tarrisir spiraled to a safe, if not comfortable and definitely painful landing, the last of his wings simply breaking to almost nothing. All that was left was the skeletal fingers of his wing and the weak, dangerously overexerted muscle that extended it to full length. Ashamed and feeling weak and vulnerable, the crippled dragon made his way over to the woods outside the city, blindly beating a hasty retreat to the woods he so cherished.

It was then that he fashioned his massive cloak, working furiously to balance out the eternal shame of being wingless, voiceless, and ugly in a world where all three traits decided everything. His back gained a near-permanent hunch from this incredible feat of work, and when the dragon entered the city once more, eager to meet some dragon ladies, he was a true dragon hunchback, a reject of society.

It was then that he heard a dragon lady, Sehra-sithred S'harahe, sing her welcome to the sun out of her window; the hermit had worked tirelessly all night long! The dragon, unused to society and general draconic vocal scale, heard her angelic song and instantly fell transfixed, enraptured by her beauteous voice.

It was then that Tarrisir emitted his first sound since he had been born, over seventy years prior to that moment, a hoarse and weak call that only used one set of vocal cords, yet sounded as though they were simple lowish notes of the other set. As he brought in the other set of cords in on the same note, he began to hum gently. There were no words, and thus no actual magic, but Tarrisir felt suffused with life and peace, and instinctively knew that this was the course he must follow.

The hermit dragon made his way over to his old school, and, rasping in his new voice, asked if the schoolteachers would have pity on and old hermit and aid him with his voice. The mistress of magic looked at him with surprise, but nonetheless acquiesced for a little light training, out of a sense of duty to the young. To her astonishment, the dragon displayed a vocal ability beyond the ordinary, possibly enough to rival or even surpass most high-caste elite! The mistress was floored, and immediately began to teach the hermit all about magic. Her shock was extreme at learning that Tarrisir had been a mute for all of his life, only having recovered his voice after the past hour, and the surprise was doubled at the memory of having taught one such student in her career. Immediately aflame with shame and guilt, she taught the hermit all she knew about magic, which he absorbed easily and eagerly, needing magic to counter all of his various shortcomings.

When he was done, he thanked the dragon warmly and hugged her (for a while longer than probably should have been polite), knowing that he might never see her again. He then retired to the woods for many more years, fashioning and enchanting various tools that would help him in self-defense, too. By the time he had reached the age of seventy, he was ready to return to civilization, weapons/tools in tow. Being in the woods for so long gave him peace and strength, and he knew that he would have to endure taunting for as long as he stayed in the city, but he went anyway.

He knew he had to find the lady S'harahe.

Motivation: Tarrisir is fueled by a desire to know all about magic and to greet it as an old friend whenever he needed to call upon it. Having been alienated as a youth, he knew next to nothing about any non-dragon history of Telmar, and desires to know all he can about the world he lives in.
Skills and Talents: Tarrisir's voice is his most powerful asset, allowing him to conjure up powerful spells. He can also wield his three weapons/tools with alacrity and efficiency, using techniques he made up himself.
Strengths: Tarrisir, through many years in the wilderness, gained many survival skills from his experiences. His voice is a voice of gold, able to recite all but the most complicated and difficult of spells, and the vocal cords have fantastic range and overlap.
Weaknesses: Tarrisir can be completely and totally infatuated with attractive females of any race. The hermit is also fascinated with civilization, and is easily distracted by things he considers exciting or new. His fantastically huge overlap also means that, when he’s agitated, he can easily accidentally cause unpredictable things to happen.
Personality: Humble, calm, peaceful, occasionally lustful


---------------------------------
Is this satisfactory?
If you want to add more, don't feel hindered.
Also keep in mind that this is a medieval fantasy. I don't want to see anything modern or sounding like it's Earth-specific--like Christmas or baseball.
Let me know how you want to enter the story before you begin, after your profile is complete.

Here it is again in code, just in case.

Code:

[b]. : Name : .[/b]
[u]Full Name[/u]: Tarrisir Sa-Rall (it should be noted that the name arose from shedding dragon culture and caste and simply combining previous words. He will obtain a caste once his place in society has been set, though it is likely that he will use a chosen name forever. For sake of reference, his given name was Garanis Shin-K’harar)
[u]Use Name[/u]: Tarrisir
[u]Played by[/u]: The Count

[b]. : Appearance : .[/b]
[u]Height and Build[/u]: Tarrisir stays hunched over for most of the time, dressed in a long, cumbersome cloak that hides his malformed and useless wings. His horns are small and decidedly unmagnificent, and all told he stands at only six foot nine straight up, let alone hunched. His skin is an odd shade of charcoal gray that came from not having very much of a bath for many years. Underneath, it is a gently pale tan, a quite even complexion indeed. His horns are solid black, with no rings whatsoever.
[u]Description[/u]: Tarrisir has a cyclone tattoo on his forehead, but no markings anywhere else save for the scars on his back. His his long tail sticks out from underneath the hem of his cloak and twitches about as though it is a striking snake, while the clawed feet and hands warn anyone who wishes to underestimate him as weak and unguarded to think twice. Due to having used them extensively to hunt and kill while out in the wilderness, they are wickedly sharp, and he is proficient at using them.
[u]Clothing[/u]: Tarrisir wears light chain mail underneath his voluminous cloak. (And this isn't just a simple modifier; the cloak really is quite large. If needs be, he can conceal himself completely in its folds and become a heap of cloth; it's really big. I cannot stress this enough.)
[u]Weapons[/u]: Tarrisir, underneath his cloak, carries a small canister-looking item that, when activated by a secret mechanism, will extend into a slim but strong wooden staff, which he can wield with efficiency. He also has a retractable sword hilt and a whip attached to his belt. Both the whip and sword, possessing a similar mechanism to the staff, extend when triggered.
[u]Other[/u]: Nothing. While the dragon may seem as though he is ready for anything, he really isn't. He doesn't like violence very much, and will do all in his power to avoid a conflict whenever possible. When he is attacked, however, or in times of great need, he will draw a weapon and go on the offensive. Though the staff and the whip can be useful even in non-combat situations.
[u]Impression[/u]: Pitiable, submissive, poor, miserable, dangerous

[b]. : Heritage : .[/b]
[u]Age[/u]: Tekel gara.  Humans would say "seventy."
[u]Birthplace[/u]: The far outskirts of Sakira.
[u]Family[/u]: Tarrisir is a bit of a hermit. He lives out in the wilderness, which is why his name, Tarrisir Sa-Rall, so reflects his love of nature. His family expelled him into the world, so he considers himself without any family in the world.
[u]Inheritance[/u]: Nothing but memories.
[u]Other[/u]: He was disowned as a boy.

[b]. : Persona : .[/b]
[u]Biography[/u]: Tarrisir was born to an extremely poor farmer's family on the outskirts of town. His mother and father were clumsy and inept at magic, and so were all of Tarrisir' younger brothers and sisters. They barely got by, just making enough to put food on the table.

Tarrisir refused to talk. He did not even cry, preferring to crawl and tug for what he wanted. His parents feared the worst for him, thinking him a mute, and indeed he was ridiculed as one as all of his siblings turned out the normal way and began to tease him. They laughed and scorned his lack of any vocal talent, full of pride that they could talk, that they could sing, that they could do everything and that their brother couldn't. It was one of the saddest times in Tarrisir's life, and he never fully recovered from it.

As he exited dragon school, mute since the hour of his birth, he was set upon by his father, angry and drunken and ready to kill the son who had brought him such shame. Tarrisir immediately saw the danger and flew off, beating his wings in frantic rhythm. Now, if there was anything that Tarrisir excelled at, it was flying. The taunts ended during flying lessons, and he would soar into the sky, leaving hardship and worry behind as he flew for the grace of the sky. He might have excelled at some sort of sport had the rest of the dragons not cared for such trivialities.

Regardless, he flew for many miles, weaving his way between mountain peaks and swooping along rivers and lakes, sobbing openly as he left the only home he'd ever known. His father stayed right behind him for most of the journey, strong and angry from working hard for most of his life and with enough rage to kill his firstborn son, but even he could not keep up with the younger and more skilled flyer. The farmer turned back, hoping to never see his shameful son again. Tarrisir landed many miles after that, exhausted completely, and built a small camp before falling fast asleep.

He lived as a hermit for a few decades, growing older and wiser by each day. He learned how to fashion excellent clothes for himself out of the skins of wild animals combined with wood mashed into a pulp and pasted on both sides of the skins for resiliency, even texture, and appearance. He still did not emit a single sound from his vocal cords.

One day, the hermit Tarrisir Sa-Rall grew lonely. His wild and exciting life simply could not compare to the many thousands of dragon voices in the cities of his kind, and he was getting to the point where he felt the coming of age quite well, desiring a mate.

Tarrisir began the long and exhausting journey back to the city. He retraced the flight he made many decades ago and finally arrived back at the farmhouse where he was born. It was no more. Someone or something had completely destroyed it years before Tarrisir had arrived, and the now the aging dragon paid his respects to the spirits of any of his dead family members. He did not know that they were all dead; had he, he might have slain himself then and there from grief and anguish, silent until the very second of his death!

But it was not to be, and the aged dragon made his way back to the main city, feeling twice as old as before (he did not even know how old that was!). His wings were beginning to feel strained, but the hermit in his pain and desire did not feel a single thing. As he arrived in the city, he felt himself losing elevation and began to panic. His wings were simply breaking as he continued to use them, and the only way to save himself was to use them more and destroy them completely! Tarrisir spiraled to a safe, if not comfortable and definitely painful landing, the last of his wings simply breaking to almost nothing.  All that was left was the skeletal fingers of his wing and the weak, dangerously overexerted muscle that extended it to full length. Ashamed and feeling weak and vulnerable, the crippled dragon made his way over to the woods outside the city, blindly beating a hasty retreat to the woods he so cherished.

It was then that he fashioned his massive cloak, working furiously to balance out the eternal shame of being wingless, voiceless, and ugly in a world where all three traits decided everything. His back gained a near-permanent hunch from this incredible feat of work, and when the dragon entered the city once more, eager to meet some dragon ladies, he was a true dragon hunchback, a reject of society.

It was then that he heard a dragon lady, Sehra-sithred S'harahe, sing her welcome to the sun out of her window; the hermit had worked tirelessly all night long! The dragon, unused to society and general draconic vocal scale, heard her angelic song and instantly fell transfixed, enraptured by her beauteous voice.

It was then that Tarrisir emitted his first sound since he had been born, over seventy years prior to that moment, a hoarse and weak call that only used one set of vocal cords, yet sounded as though they were simple lowish notes of the other set. As he brought in the other set of cords in on the same note, he began to hum gently. There were no words, and thus no actual magic, but Tarrisir felt suffused with life and peace, and instinctively knew that this was the course he must follow.

The hermit dragon made his way over to his old school, and, rasping in his new voice, asked if the schoolteachers would have pity on and old hermit and aid him with his voice. The mistress of magic looked at him with surprise, but nonetheless acquiesced for a little light training, out of a sense of duty to the young. To her astonishment, the dragon displayed a vocal ability beyond the ordinary, possibly enough to rival or even surpass most high-caste elite! The mistress was floored, and immediately began to teach the hermit all about magic. Her shock was extreme at learning that Tarrisir had been a mute for all of his life, only having recovered his voice after the past hour, and the surprise was doubled at the memory of having taught one such student in her career. Immediately aflame with shame and guilt, she taught the hermit all she knew about magic, which he absorbed easily and eagerly, needing magic to counter all of his various shortcomings.

When he was done, he thanked the dragon warmly and hugged her (for a while longer than probably should have been polite), knowing that he might never see her again. He then retired to the woods for many more years, fashioning and enchanting various tools that would help him in self-defense, too. By the time he had reached the age of seventy, he was ready to return to civilization, weapons/tools in tow. Being in the woods for so long gave him peace and strength, and he knew that he would have to endure taunting for as long as he stayed in the city, but he went anyway.

He knew he had to find the lady S'harahe.

[u]Motivation[/u]: Tarrisir is fueled by a desire to know all about magic and to greet it as an old friend whenever he needed to call upon it. Having been alienated as a youth, he knew next to nothing about any non-dragon history of Telmar, and desires to know all he can about the world he lives in.
[u]Skills and Talents[/u]: Tarrisir's voice is his most powerful asset, allowing him to conjure up powerful spells. He can also wield his three weapons/tools with alacrity and efficiency, using techniques he made up himself.
[u]Strengths[/u]: Tarrisir, through many years in the wilderness, gained many survival skills from his experiences. His voice is a voice of gold, able to recite all but the most complicated and difficult of spells, and the vocal cords have fantastic range and overlap.
[u]Weaknesses[/u]: Tarrisir can be completely and totally infatuated with attractive females of any race. The hermit is also fascinated with civilization, and is easily distracted by things he considers exciting or new. His fantastically huge overlap also means that, when he’s agitated, he can easily accidentally cause unpredictable things to happen.
[u]Personality[/u]: Humble, calm, peaceful, occasionally lustful


[Kalon Ordona II]

Now I have two sections of my post complete.

Digi, I have Katerina saying a few lines. Mostly generic, but a few you might want to look at. Should I PM them to you, or should I just post it when I'm done and edit it if you want to change something?

We'll be in Telmural by this post, on DAY 20.

[Digital Muse]

Yes Please, Kalon

[Count]

Oh. Yeah, thanks That was really helpful. I'll do my best to keep up with you all; I'm not nearly as good as you are.

I'll take you revisions as a definite "Yes" and get to starting the initial post. Thank you for looking over all of the failed submissions with a gentle but critical eye; I wouldn't have it any other way.

[Kalon Ordona II]

Awesome. Thanks, Count!
Where are you hoping to start? Do you have a certain day and place in mind, or would you like some suggestions?

[Count]

I'm going to read through the last couple of pages IC and then decide from there. If everyone's in the same place, that's just dandy. If not, I can still work with that. If everyone's somewhere different, I think I'll scatter to the four winds

[Kalon Ordona II]

Everyone's in different places.
I just realized you don't really know how the story's gone so far.
Here's an OOC-ish synopsis. I'll have a better one after the end of this chapter, coming up.

Basically it went like this.

Once upon a time, there's this area of the world called Telmar, which is divided about evenly among three races, Humans, Elves and Dragons, who all more or less keep to themselves, except for trade.
One day out of the blue, human priests, elven astronomers and sensitives, and powerful dragon mages all sense the same thing: a general increase in the level of energy or life in the world. Humans think their Goddess Zephiris has returned. Elves have no idea what's going on and are investigating other lands, which basically means they're investigating humans since they stay away from dragons. Dragons are after whatever the source of this event is, because they want it for themselves.

Six days later, at night (night of DAY 6), black beasts of varying shapes appear all over Telmar. Fear abounds, though in actuality far fewer people die than is imagined. Some towns, however, are completely overrun (probably due to the leaders spreading panic; think Denethor: "abandon your posts! fleeeeee, flee for you lives!").

Our story centers on several different characters spread out all over the land. Some respond to the call of Sephiris, some search for her on their own terms or the terms imposed upon them. Some search for they know not what. Some are caught up in the sweep of events.

The furthest date so far is DAY 25, concerning Blackrock's group in Ashwood, on the north shore of Barocula Lake.
Most of the rest of us are around DAY 20.
Right now the plan is for Chapter 1 to end around DAY 30.

Now, if your character started in Sakira, capital of Sakira-thani, he'll have a ways to go to catch up to S'harahe. And there's a problem: he doesn't know where she's gone. We might be able to devise a magic to search for her, but you'll have to PM me or discuss it here.
You'll probably face the shadow beasts two nights out of three, and you'll have about 60% chance of survival each time, which basically means it won't be too hard for you to stay alive, but you're still in danger and it might be a little frightening.

For a dragon, these attacks at night are very difficult to cope with. Whereas humans and elves can more or less sleep whenever they want, dragons are much more closely tied physically to the day & night cycle. When the sun is up, it's next to impossible for them to sleep; when the sun goes down, it's an enormous strain to try to stay awake. So you can imagine, with these shadows appearing early in the night, the difficulty this would present to dragons.

Any questions about that, do ask.

Now, since you're a dragon, and since you'll be pursuing S'harahe, you'll want to know what's happened to her so far. Probably the best thing to do is take a half hour and read S'harahe's Story in the Perspective Archives linked on the first page of this OOC.
That way you won't have to worry about scrolling through the whole role-play or using the Find function to get to everything. Though I do hope you eventually read the whole thing. A little at a time as you go, probably, so you don't feel overwhelmed.

So yeah! Enjoy!

[Count]

Oh...thanks. I had already figured out, through effort, where everyone was. The summary was helpful for sorting all the information out in my head, though

I'll PM you with whatever my sleep-deprived brain has decided is a good spell for finding someone and we can work out whatever I got wrong.

[Kalon Ordona II]

I was hoping to finish my post tonight, but I'm already way late for bed and there's stuff to do tomorrow. Even more progress, though. I was about 70% earlier today, and now I'm easily at 90% and perhaps more. And this time it'll be real easy because I have it all planned out. So just this little bit more, and I'm done! I need to finish the whole thing instead of posting what I already have or else I might not get around to it, like I did after my last post. So just hang in there. I have stuff to do tomorrow, but I should be able to finish it tomorrow night. (And then it's Celebrant time, Silv & Blackr! ^^)

Posting soon!

[Kalon Ordona II]

Posted! ^_^
Let me know if I made any silly mistakes. I caught three in the preview, but some could have slipped past.

Updated the map, languages, and locations with the new info from the post.

Let's have some fun in Telmural, Digi! xD Katerina'll probably be right in her element.
I'm hoping to develop the Áirhath x Titanya tragedy/hopeful romance a bit as well as develop a working friendship between Áirhath and Katerina. Right now they seem to be more fond-acquaintance-ish, and Áirhath still has some racial superiority issues to work on. ^_^

If we're lucky, Barthon'll be on his way in time to arrive early in Chapter 2, so we can all meet up.
I think the Barthon group is on DAY 16 in Aram, so I'm not sure how long it'd take them to get to Sephalia where Simion is leading them. (I might not have all my facts straight...)

[Guest]

Here is what I've figured out for Barthon: The knights will arrive in Caluk around noon of DAY 16. They likely will not leave until morning of DAY 19. They will arrive at the next town at the source of the Manora River around noon of DAY 19. River travel, however, is slow. Assuming that there are no delays, they will not reach Iyel'Del until DAY 29 at the earliest (15 miles per day, approximately 150 miles of river). I am not sure how long they will remain in Iyel'Del, but I will assume a maximum of three days. By this time, we are at DAY 33, just into Chapter 2.

At 20 miles per day, with about 375 miles of sea between Iyel'Del and Telmural, it will take 19 days. Barthon will not reach Telmural until DAY 52... at the earliest. That is assuming they aren't delayed every night along the river by shadow beasts, that ships are actually still coming and going from Iyel'Del (which is likely, since a city of its size won't be impacted greatly by the shadows), that they will not be beset by storms or pirates during the journey across the sea, etc. I don't know what will happen because I haven't written it yet...

Anyway, don't hold fort in Telmural until Barthon shows up. It may not be quite as soon as you would like.

[Kalon Ordona II]

Is it really that far? Wow, yeah....
Well, it's only 100 miles from Iyel'Del to the two large cities in northern Sephalia, at the mouth of the river Amros.
The fastest ships, at about 20 miles per day, would need no more than 15 days to cover the 300+ miles from Dor to Telmural, but from Iyel'Del to the mouth of the Amros shouldn't take more than 5 days. From there, if one goes by foot, he could get to Telmural in another week or so. I suppose if an urgent messenger had a mage to help with sailing a fast ship and could travel by relay horseback, he could get from Iyel'Del to Telmural in a week, all other things being equal.

Fastest possible times aside, though, if you went by horse to Iyel'Del, you could be there in one week instead of two. If you catch a schooner, that's another 5 days to land in northern Sephalia, or like you said another 19 days to go down to Telmural. Altogether DAY 39, leaving DAY 40 for running across other people.

If the search for Zephiris seems urgent especially to Simion, he'll probably want to take the faster way.

What I could do is push Chapter 2 to DAY 35. This would allow a more reasonable amount of time for Barin's party to make its necessary discoveries without us having to rush. And it would also allow me to make the Mountains of Mist more believably treacherous (by having them have to take longer to climb and navigate).

This is all under the assumption that you're hoping to get them there quicker, of course. If you like the longer time, we can do that, too.

DAY 35 will make it less boring for you if you arrive around 37-39. You'll be there pretty much at the start, and three weeks for us in Telmural doesn't seem as much of a stretch as five (20 to 41 as opposed to 20 to 55).

I'm guessing that river travel is pretty much only advantageous for barges full of goods, in amounts that would be too much work over land. Like food and trees. Ferrying stuff to the docks to be shipped; that sort of thing. If it's just people trying to get from one place to another, horses would be faster and less boring for the people on board.

I don't think there'll be shadows at sea, and we already found out that, as far as we've seen, staying in the river is safe. But if they want a safe and easy road, they'll have to sacrifice speed. I guess it just comes down to what the characters would want. If they feel it's a time issue, they are knights after all, so facing the shadow beasts at night might be worth it to them. On the other hand, if they think they need to stay alive at all costs in order to find Zephiris, then I guess they'd pick the river.

[Guest]

My original idea, as I thought it out in my head, was them traveling downriver to Iyel'Del. That was mostly because river travel would, for my arc at least, add a new element to the story. The necessity for it was increased with the idea that river travel would be safer. At the time, I did not realize that it would be so much slower. I may indeed choose to have them go by horseback. But I will sacrifice a unique view if I do. By traveling over land, they may avoid many of the towns, but river travel would give at least a small view of the dock portions of whichever towns they pass.

That, fortunately, is not important. Speed is certainly of the essence, so there is little chance of them sacrificing it for safety. So that speeds up that much of it. As for the travel across the sea, I could certainly use the mage idea. The Order, as well as the King himself, are privy to Barthon's mission (obviously) and that time is crucial. They could send a mage pair along with the group of knights that are escorting him to Iyel'Del who can speed up the journey to Sephalia. Since I haven't written out the departure from Aram yet, that is something I can add in now. I assume it is safe to say that Mandor would have an academy of sorts for mages?

If a mage pair could increase the speed of travel across the sea to 30 miles per day instead of 20, that would decrease the trip to twelve days, making the total trip three weeks instead of the original five. Do you think it is possible for a mage to increase the speed that much though?

The reason I want them to sail straight to Telmural is because it is itself a possible time saver. Traveling over land would force them to have to deal with the shadows. They would have to stop at towns for supplies. There are things that would slow them down. Ship travel is more straightforward, if slightly slower (unless the mage can negate that disadvantage). They can carry enough supplies to last the journey, and they can avoid the shadows.

So, seven days to ride to Iyel'Del, and about twelve to fourteen days to sail to Telmural. From DAY 19, that puts their arrival at DAY 38-40, pretty much where you wanted. How does that sound to you?

[Digital Muse]

The Twin's did indeed go to a school of Magic, so we can assume there are several such scattered around.

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