Re: Sephiris: The Price of Peace - OOC

[Kalon Ordona II]

.....Silvone? Is that you?

That was weird at first. I was like "who does this person think they are, barging into the RP like that?"

Silvone? Yes... That's what they used to call me. Silvone Elestahr. That was my name. I am Ysopet.

That is pretty hilarious though. So... when are you going to get Dreamweaver to make a character here?

Hah, well played.

Dunno. We'll see if he wants to, first. The Advanced section can be a bit challenging for new members.

[Kalon Ordona II]

Great post by the way!
I liked your take on the mages and magic.

[Guest]

Great post by the way!
I liked your take on the mages and magic.

That is good. I wasn't sure what you would think of it. I'm really glad you aren't demanding an edit

Most of the time, you would be able to expect a little more out of the Society, but in these dire times they are really holding on to their best assets.

[Kalon Ordona II]

The only thing that I wasn't totally sure on was Fabre's voice. They'd have to actually be doing the same pitch. So if you meant he was doing that, even though he had a lower voice, then that fits.

If you meant he was an octave lower or something, the wording must be a bit unclear. So I took it to mean the correct way.

That's why it's tough for dragons to do with their two voices, stretching the high one low and the low one high, so that they match.

[Guest]

I think that is what I meant...

[Guilty Carrion]

A strange combination of low and high. Seems like you described it right to me. I'd think a human would find the two 'different' yet some how right, whereas a Dragon is accustomed to the duality of their voice, and wouldn't see the oddity a human might perceive. If that makes sense.

[Kalon Ordona II]

Right.
I think.

*reads it again*

Yeah, see?
Fabre joined in on the chant, his voice lower than Iaed’s yet somehow matching it perfectly.
I figured that meant normally his voice was lower, but now it's matching her pitch. (She would have started low, knowing he'd have to join in.)
But I can see how it easily could mean that his voice is lower now, and he's not matching her pitch but her timing perfectly--probably exactly an octave or so lower, or something.

So I'm just making sure we're on the same page that it should mean the first one.

[Guilty Carrion]

...so, the objective is to make the two voices sound identical?

[Kalon Ordona II]

Yes. The soundwaves should precisely overlap and resonate. That's one of the reasons it helps to know the person really really well AND have practiced specific spells a LOT.

The way to practice would be to chant at different pitch and then, only when you're sure you've got it exactly the same, match each other's notes.

Dragons can do it more intuitively because, of course, both voices are getting the same brain signals.

There's also the volume-effect relationship to remember.

Anyway, I think that answered your question. Let me know.
This kind of magic appeals to me because you don't have to be born with a "magic talent." Anyone can do it; it's just really hard and takes a lot of training. ^_^
And another little perk is that computers or robots would never be able to reproduce the effects, because computers can't make analog soundwaves.

[Blackrock]

Heh, after a long, long time - I finally managed to find an image that looks exactly the way I imaigned Barin to be. When I stumbled upon it, quite by accident, I was like "OMG! This *is* Barin!" A bit of Photoshop tweaking here and there....and yep, one avatar coming right up.

Shameless self-promotion aside, glad to see the new post! I only skim-read it I admit, but I'll revisit it once I'm done with an exam tomorrow.

[Digital Muse]

Welcome back, Blackrock. We haven't heard from you in some time.

I like the new avatar, it makes Barin look more grizzled and less polished than the old one did. What a lucky find.

I was lucky, Kalon's rendering of Kate was so spot on it was scary. I really should dig that up again....

[Kalon Ordona II]

Here you go. ^_^


Great avatar, Blackrock!
*reimagines Barin*
Got it.

[Digital Muse]

Thanks, Kalon, But I had a copy saved too.

[Kalon Ordona II]

Coolio. ^^


Hey guys, I feel like we talked about something like this before, but I forget how it went. Thinking about how long this one chapter has been, should I rename it to Book 1 instead of Chapter 1?

I'm on the fence toward the idea because I'm not sure how long the other chapters will be. Feels like it would speed up.

..yeah, I'm sure we talked about this once before; that line sounded familiar...

[Guest]

I don't think that renaming it would speed anything up, to be honest. We are going to write at the speed that we write. My suggestion would be to go through it after the fact and split it up then. You may get two or three chapters out of what we have so far, or you could consider it all just Book 1.

I don't think calling this Book 1 and moving on to Book 2 will do anything for us though. There are still certain plot points we all want to cover for our characters, and essential plot points for the story as a whole. You can split it up however you like, I don't mind. I just don't think you should expect it to speed up the role-play in any way. For that, you need to convince Ryona (Gadreille) to push me harder

[Kalon Ordona II]

It's not your part of the plot I'm worried about. It's still me and Digi who are behind. xD

Yeah, you're probably right. *shrug* I didn't really have a preference either way. Probably best to wait and see how it develops. Unless we want to do separate topics or something.

Still trying to find time to work on the dragon post. Getting them closer to their search area.

[Count]

BOO.



I spent a great deal of time trying to come up with somewhere to stick my dragon in, and I still don't see anywhere easy. If someone wouldn't mind pointing at a few points I could join the main plot if the character starts in the capital city? I really do not wish to repeat my inactivity. ^_^

[Kalon Ordona II]

Oh! Hi there. ^_^

Let's see...
Starting in the capital city, there's really not much going on, unless he followed my dragon group. Which he might have. Hey, maybe he was the dark shape in the water that one time!

He'd be by himself and still have to deal with the shadow beasts, but I'm sure he'd manage. But I bet he's had a tough time catching up after my group did that super long trek.

So let's say they lost him for a bit and he takes a few days to catch up.
I have a plan where you could find them in one of the cities, if you like. Because of the shadow beasts, S'harahe's planning to use D'chalgtmendrir as a base to start her search, but she'd be careful not to reveal her purpose and do things in such a way to avoid inconvenient questions. The thing is, she'll probably be recognized. But again, I have some plans. ^^

So you'll probably be able to see them by, like, DAY 25 or so. They'll be on DAY 21 when I finish my latest dragon post. You can maybe start out somewhere in the wilds--I can show you where on the map. And by the time you arrive, I will have had a chance to describe what the city looks like and what the situation is, so you'll be able to make an informed entrance.

Either that or you'd have to wait until something happens in the city. I suppose we could contrive something, but I hadn't planned on it. Still, never know.

[Guest]

No rush, Kalon, but Rochham is the newest town for the map of Mandor. It is at the source (on the map anyway) of the Manora River, eastish of Caluk. I would very much love to see it on the map

[Guest]

@ Blackrock: If you happen to be on tonight, I will be sending you a PM of the beginnings of my post. I left off where I need some character lines from Rurik. I just need to make a few tiny edits before I send it, but I also have a night of celebration for my son first (he finally pooped in the pody!!!). It might be late tonight before I send it... but I will send it!

[Kalon Ordona II]

I'll be sending a similar PM to Digi, hopefully tonight or tomorrow. ^^

and updating the map.

[Count]

Oh! Hi there. ^_^

Let's see...
Starting in the capital city, there's really not much going on, unless he followed my dragon group. Which he might have. Hey, maybe he was the dark shape in the water that one time!

He'd be by himself and still have to deal with the shadow beasts, but I'm sure he'd manage. But I bet he's had a tough time catching up after my group did that super long trek.

So let's say they lost him for a bit and he takes a few days to catch up.
I have a plan where you could find them in one of the cities, if you like. Because of the shadow beasts, S'harahe's planning to use D'chalgtmendrir as a base to start her search, but she'd be careful not to reveal her purpose and do things in such a way to avoid inconvenient questions. The thing is, she'll probably be recognized. But again, I have some plans. ^^

So you'll probably be able to see them by, like, DAY 25 or so. They'll be on DAY 21 when I finish my latest dragon post. You can maybe start out somewhere in the wilds--I can show you where on the map. And by the time you arrive, I will have had a chance to describe what the city looks like and what the situation is, so you'll be able to make an informed entrance.

Either that or you'd have to wait until something happens in the city. I suppose we could contrive something, but I hadn't planned on it. Still, never know.

Heehee, shadow beasts. My hermit may not be pretty, but he's got a lovely voice and jagged claws, and a few tools to help him out. Being a hermit has made him quite resourceful.

He's filthy, by the way. You might not like the way he appears to your dragons, and they'll probably find him gross and disgusting. It doesn't get better from here, either; his ugliness and broken wings are the only drawbacks to being a phenomenal magician and powerful warrior hermit. Perhaps their meeting should be at night, under attack by shadow beasts?

On the other hand, that would make my fugly hermit a hot commodity among the dragons as one of the dragons tough enough to be able to fend off the shadow beasts, should they learn to live with his horrible appearance. I don't want to make your RP too easy

[Kalon Ordona II]

. : 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

---------------------------------

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]

That's so we don't have to go digging through the OOC for it. I'll link to it later.

I've been making progress on a dragon post along with more Telmural. When I post it, you'll have a good idea of how to direct your character--where to aim, so to speak.

I have the next two days off work, so I plan to have that done soon.

[Guest]

Just so you all know, I am working on character lines with Blackrock, so a Ragner/Rurik post is forthcoming. Eventually.

[Digital Muse]

Well, this is very difficult for me, but I feel it is time for me to step out of Sephiris. The world and characters are fantastic and simply being in the company of such amazing writers has certainly taken my own meager skills up several notches. However, the pace of the RP has completely silenced Kate and the Twin’s voices within me.

I am someone who needs regular feedback and progress in order to stay focused, I guess. I am truly sorry and feel I am letting you all down after such a marvelous 2 year run, but I also feel I can’t contribute with ghosts of characters I’ve lost.

[Guest]

No worries, Digi. To be honest, I wrote out a message here a few weeks ago stating that I was leaving. Gadreille talked me out of it, though I can't make any promises that I will be staying. This role-play is hard, both because of the standards we keep ourselves to and because of how infrequently we post.

Honestly, even if this role-play does survive another year, it will forever be "on the back burner," because of the demands on our time. I, for one, have a VERY difficult time giving it the attention it requires. That was the main reason I was ready to quit, because I felt like I was the one holding it back. Maybe I am, maybe I'm not. But Gadreille convinced me that I would never forgive myself if I left, so I will be here until Kalon digs the grave.

I hope you at least had a blast while it was going, Digi. And if it ever picks up again, and you feel the need to come back to it, I for one hope that you do!

See you around

[Kalon Ordona II]

Well, our slow pace has been slower than usual, certainly. I understand, and many thanks Digi for your wonderful contributions to the story and characters. You're of course free to re-enter at any point.

I do feel like I have to at least finish Chapter One, just for closure. xD
What I'll do is finish the post I had ready for Digi to work on, supply a few extra details, then work on a more major post. Hopefully we can stretch out a bit more for the last mile.

What I can do is modify my plans slightly so that the end of Chapter One feels more like some kind of Book One ending. More of a "we won, but you just know a sequel could be on the way," rather than "act 1 complete."

More soon.

[Guest]

Will it count as a completed role-play?

[Blackrock]

That's a shame to hear, Digi.

I can definitely sympathise though, I'm pretty certain we're all in this position more or less. We've set a high standard for ourselves, which naturally slows down the pace of the RP. We've lost people, the characters are too spread apart in the world and the list goes on - it's definitely not easy writing for a RP of this scale! On my end, all that has to be added to my studies in university - I thought I knew what I was signing up for, but after a couple of months I realised that my free time was gong to dwindle even more. In fact, I don't think I've written more than 1,000 words (if that) in the past couple of months, I barely have time to sit down and think things through.

The thought of quitting has crossed my mind as well, on more than one occasion, but I stick around comfortable in the fact that the pace isn't that fast. Which also proves to be, ironically, our downfall as well. As I said, it's a shame - but it only goes to show you why the great books and series weren't written overnight.

I like what we have here, but I think it's no secret that the heyday of Sephiris has come and gone. We've got so much material that it's off-putting for new people to come aboard, characters that were integral to the story no longer have writers to cover them (which means some of us have to spread our efforts over an even bigger cast of roles)...all in all the complex nature of this whole thing has turned around to bite us in the ass. But I don't mind, as with all setbacks - it's just a lesson.

I'm up for finishing with Chapter One, I definitely believes Sephiris deserves it. But after that....I don't know if I'll manage to stick around, not when things are reaching such a stage. Still, that's in the future - we'll cross that bridge when we get to it.

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