Legend of Ransera

Posted: **Fri Apr 29, 2022 9:11 pm**

Those bearing the mark of Eminence stepped forward. Most of them were those members of Pahoran’s family that Talon had personally marked not that long ago. There were others however, some of the older lived among the Knights of the Dawnmartyr. A few elves, some dwarves and a handful of others. Each of them bore a mark gifted from Arcas. They joined Pahoran without question and without hesitation. Each of them revealed their marks where they could and each of them came to kneel and begin praying to their patron. A silent vigil meant to send strength and invigoration to the reborn Arcas.

Though there were ceremonial oaths and rituals observed, to commune with one’s patron deity was a personal matter and was something best expressed in a way that meant the most to the individual. Some of those who began their vigil remained silent. Some murmured softly to themselves, touching upon their emblem. One of the elves, a Hytori, began to sing softly. Another joined them. Before long, several voices were singing softly in a melody that spoke of the beauty and peace of the rising sun, the Light of Dawn, and the Hope it brought to the world.

Those Dawnmartyrs who did not bear emblems joined in as well. Some sang. Some remained silent as they concentrated on sending their prayers through the aether.

Time passed. Moments turned to minutes. Minutes turned to hours. Not a single knight faltered as they waited and prayed for something. They had waited this long. They had come this far. They had started to rebuild with the hope that their patron had finally returned. Simmering beneath the surface of that silent vigil was an anger, a quiet yearning for Justice. It was almost desperate with a need and desire to believe.

Pahoran’s emblem was the first to glow. The silver-white of Dawnfire blossomed gently around his mark. It grew and spread. The fire was warm and banished all shadows that it touched. It spread to Rickter, whose marks illuminated softly at first but then grew in intensity. More and more the Dawnfire spread, touching all of those who were pouring their faith into that moment. Eventually the Dawnfire spread until it filled the temple. None were burned nor harmed but the light continued to grow and grow until it was blinding in its intensity.

And then…

----

A scene stood before Pahoran and Rickter. One that was eerily familiar to Pahoran. A dream from winters ago, where the world had been ruined and covered in a blanket of fog and grey misery. The dense mist covered the world, creating a haze that made it impossible to see more than a few feet in front of oneself. Vaguely, distantly, the voices of others could be heard whispering in the mists. A gentle tugging came from the emblems that both men bore, guiding them in a southward direction. Walking through the dense fog, the immediate surroundings were not clearly discernible except for the occasional structure that jutted out as they wound their way through the landscape. Eventually they passed through a wall, the size and scope of the structure it was attached to was unclear and only partially visible.

But upon passing through this wall, a grim sight awaited them.

In front of the two was a chamber with only a single source of light. Moonlight filtered down upon a figure that was hunched over on his knees. The moonlight came from a great glass window. The interior of the chamber appeared to be some manner of dark cathedral. Aside from its monolithic stone pillars and the great glass window however, little else was clear about its features.

---

His head hung low, with arms suspended in the air and his wings allowed to spread out behind him. His breathing was labored, chest rising and falling as he struggled between fending off pain and the need to breathe. Every inch of his body shivered with pain. He barely had the strength to lift his head after the brutal day of emotional torture and the binding he had been subjected to. He was tired. So very tired. His head was still spinning from everything that had happened. He could still hear the panic. He could still hear the screaming. He could still see his father’s face as the life drained away from his eyes.

Today had been a challenging day. His fury had been so clear and blinding that he had completely burned away the markings that they placed upon him. He had broken the chains binding him but in the end…it had not been enough. The Kathar had immediately acted. The great sigil that served as his prison had activated and the Inquisitors had come. Unleashing magic that challenged even his mighty will, they had subdued him, invading his mind and restraining him. With Aoren too weak to help him, the protection of the Core Bond had offered no aid. He had been thrust back into a state of dormancy.

Now he was awake. Wrapped around his arms and weighing down his wings were new chains. These were heavier than the ones before. Carved into his skin were new pictographs, freshly bleeding and not yet healed, these marks had been cut deeper into his flesh. They had taken their time to ensure that each one had been remarkably painful.

It was in between moments of lucidity that he heard the distant hush of voices reaching out to him. At first, he thought it was the Archbishop, returning to admonish him for attempting to ruin their accommodations but it was soon clear that it was not him. He then thought that perhaps they had begun another broadcast of his husband’s suffering. But he would recognize Aoren’s screaming anywhere. It was not him. He blinked and a hazy figure took shape in front of his eyes. A shaft of moonlight that allowed him to see clearly for one brief moment. His eyes felt heavy with exhaustion. He was pale with weariness and pain. He looked up and locked eyes with his observers for a single moment. The haze in his head and in his vision cleared as he focused on them. He saw them and for a moment, for a very brief moment, he felt such hope.

He did not feel the stinging slice of the knives cutting into his skin. He did not ache with the yearning to comfort his tortured husband. He did not shiver with the exhaustion of trying to fight against the control pressing upon his mind.

And then they were gone. He was left alone. With only the caw of ravens and the quiet breathing of the Kathar keeping guard over him to join him in the silence. The haze began to crowd his thoughts again. He could feel it dragging him back into a state of docile meditation. With his last clear thought he sent the only thing he could feel in that moment; a cry for help.

Please…

---

The light of the Dawnfire blinked out swiftly and suddenly, leaving behind a cold vacuum in its place.

The vision of Talon had revealed little to nothing of where he was but it was clear he was weary, suffering, and in pain. What was most clear however was this:

They were already running out of time.

Posted: **Sat Apr 30, 2022 12:02 am**

With the Order

Glade 7th, 122nd Year

At Pah's remark on being sought out later on, Ishin gave the Synnekar one more humbled bow before he marched on to seek out Rickter's uncle. He had yet to fully learn the connection between Ishin and Erikson, but for now, the wolf's focus had been on the more pressing matters. Such as this sudden meeting that was being called for everyone, and namely, what his own role would be come time to find out what the gathering was actually for. Thus when he gestured for Pahoran to lead on and was given a smile in return, Rickter nodded with a glance to Patrick as he seemed inclined to follow along right away. Obviously, for Rickter that first step didn't come as quickly, but being alongside a companion of his prompted him to commit to it at least.

The short hike beyond the walls toward the temple structure left both men to wonder in their own awe. Patrick obviously seemed intrigued by everything he was seeing here, but to Rickter, the sight of the temple evoked unfamiliar feelings within him. He was never a faithful individual to begin with, and yet here and now, he was entering what was essentially sacred ground to strangers he had no custom to. If ever the wolf felt out of place anywhere, it was certainly here, once they arrived to see the amount of people already gathered within. And yet more was coming still. Though quiet Rickter's gaze shifted about warily, his heart already heavy when they crossed the threshold to join the communion within.

There came a pause in Pahoran as well, as he seemed to hesitate on a thought before crossing the threshold. Patrick looked to check and see if he were okay, given the Synnekar was the more receptive and friendlier addition to their group. Though, the Atinoran did also note Rickter's seemingly increasing apprehension. Though he hadn't any idea as to what to do to help with the situation exactly, since he was still fresh and new to the group as a whole. "Tough times all around, huh?" He gently remarked after Pahoran apologized for the pause, as the wolf himself looked relatably curious toward Pahoran for just a moment. A number of emotions?

Right now all Rickter could think about was how turbulent the storm of emotions were within his own heart. What's more he felt it in his core somewhere that this place resonated with him, and for moment, that feeling overtook him before he could continue within. "It's alright big guy, ain't nobody here gonna judge you for whatever reason." Patrick surmised as he clearly figured Rickter's hesitation was due to his situation, and the fact the Order itself was responsible for sheltering him within their ranks. The wolf exhaled a sigh through his nostrils at best, shrugging the fear that Echoed through him off before continuing along with the two men.

Pahoran he knew by now was a friendly sort, and though Rickter bore no innate fear against the people inside, that still didn't mean he dreaded what he might discover once they were within. As the crowd gathered and clustered around the center, the sight of another impressive Avialae leaving Rickter to ponder who the man was; as well as his station. Clearly he was a higher ranking individual among the Order, how high though he had yet to really perceive, only that the man projected his own outstanding aura of authority within the Knighthood. When motioned for them to approach closer Patrick seemed the more eager one to follow Pahoran, as the wolf gradually weaved through the crowd after the Atinoran before they reached their spot at the forefront of the group.

The commander ushered everyone in with his warm welcomes and the temple room quickly became packed. Rickter's head started to hang low now when he realized just how many had gathered, the nervousness he felt Echoing before clearly mirrored by his own now. There was something here that the wolf could feel all around him, something that he felt missing deep down within his own core. He almost envied it really, having felt that sense of camaraderie slip through his fingers not so long ago. As he stood there rigid and firm, though, he felt a hand grip his shoulder in a way he didn't mind feeling. Somehow... Even confined into his own walls he still sought that type of comfort. Unwittingly so in fact that his shoulders actually loosened a little, even if his eyes never lifted to show appreciation for the knight's gesture.

The meeting had started with the leader of their Order addressing the crowd, his stature hard to ignore as he carried himself with pride. There was something about the look in his eyes that touched the wolf, as though a parent were steadily praising his children beneath his postured exterior. The temple smelled of so many scents too, too many for him to outright identify right away in fact. But Rickter kept still next to Patrick as the Atinoran crossed his arms to listen, his gaze more thoughtful than Rickter's as the speech filled the room. He made claims that there would always be hope, a statement that both irked and prompted the wolf. Hope? In what god-forsaken world where everything you love was either torn down or taken away, could a thing such as hope ever continue to exist?

The Northlands... no. The world was a cruel and even unforgiving place. And when darkness struck the land who else but the harbingers of light could bring hope into it? Deep down Rickter had already heard enough, at least, he felt he'd had enough dealings with gods and fate. It was bad enough he intended to defy whatever form destiny held for him, what more did Rickter have to learn before such driven whims were spurred into action? There came a pause in the speech until he finally had his answer delivered to him moments after.

Kalzasi had lifted most of it's closures to the outside world, meaning traffic had started to move again albeit at a slow pace. Yet when it was Pahoran that had been called to stand at the center, the wolf's gaze finally shifted from the floor to the Synnekar Knight they'd followed. What did he learn in his time in Kalzasi?! The sheer weight of the moment brought heavy drop in his heart, as the instrument beat louder within his chest just from seeing the man address the gathered crowd. The Shokoze had been the first thing he'd addressed, the reactions in the room not unlike what the wolf expected to see. Yet for him it was personal. Though there were those who indeed shedded tears from the news, Rickter's own expression ever more somber as he silently watched Pahoran speak.

Then came the deliverance that Talon was none other than Arcas reincarnated. That news stung harder for some reason, likely because it merely reinforced what he already knew. From what Pahoran described in his role with the event, the wolf had assumed what Baudric had told him added up. Which meant that the Imperium had indeed been the ones orchestrating the whole affair, and, Zaichaer was nothing more than a public face for them to use. Yet the news that Ioniri reached out to him struck the wolf odd, mostly because his own beloved bore a mark from Her, and yet Telion hadn't said anything about the Goddess of Healing speaking to her. That meant this meaning was personally between Pah and the Goddess, which meant what words came next were the words the wolf himself had to take to heart.

Her message to Pahoran was relayed before the whole crowd, as Patrick and Rickter gazed upon Pahoran with varying levels of awe. The Atinoran was obviously baffled by everything he heard, yet in Rickter's very cheeks, red started to flush into them as his chest slowly heaved with deep breaths. Talon wasn't just taken prisoner but being corrupted by dark forces? If what the gist of everything he'd heard held true, and given Pahoran seemed far to honorable to even make this up, then that meant the wolf himself was running on borrowed time at this rate. Time he was running out of, a feeling that filled him with the greatest sense of dread in all honestly. It was his fault after all... Talon would never have been in this position if Rickter had stayed behind, rather than carrying out his quest dutifully like the dog he'd been.

The immediate proximity around Rickter started to develop a chill now, as he clenched his jaw to quell the burdening rage within his heart. All throughout the crowd people seemed frightened, terrified even, over the prospect of their deity being turned against their beliefs. What Arcas represented, no, what he embodied meant the world to these folk... and yet there were those in the world that'd corrupt such influence for their own gain. The thought of it nearly sickened the wolf angrily, were it not for the Knight's words about the Dawnmartyrs standing to defend their beloved Patron. And not just the knights themselves, but those who were clearly faithful and devoted to the cause. Those who believed in something like Arcas. Yet where was Rickter's belief? Where had that gone after the separation of his Bondmates? Not even he was entirely sure...

Only by the reminder of what Pahoran revealed when he tugged most of his shirt off, the Eminence emblem displayed for those within the temple to witness. As many within the crowd began to nod and even agree with Pahoran's words on their faith, and how long they've had to keep it hidden away from the world, something within the wolf stirred as he kept his breathing in check. Their faith could provide Arcas and Talon the strength necessary to withstand the enemy's influence? Part of Rickter felt outright ready to argue with that point, to walk out and blatantly disregard all this talk of faith. Yet at the reminder of what he too possessed, and how those last few moments spent with his Bondmates were before they faded from his life entirely... The glassy layer over his eyes nearly watered over now, as Rickter gradually tugged the sleeve of his left arm to reveal the Eminence emblem there.

His was born from a glimpse shared through their Bond, the wolf's soul somehow already marked before Talon had even realized what he was. Was this yet another grand design by fate? Something he would have to crush as well if he wanted to resist its call? Pahoran wasn't wrong when he mentioned that those with the emblem were directly connected to Arcas, as Rickter had felt the influence time and time again when under the service of Talon. Now though? Could really give some insight as to where his beloved Bondmates had gone? Was there really a chance that he'd confirm everything he'd been told? As others who possessed the mark were quick to move already, a gathering assembled within the center of the temple before him. There he realized just how deep faith ran for someone such as Arcas.

To see men and even women, people of all races stepping forward to join the Knight, showed just how deeply the Demigod had touched everyone. Yet out of all those gathered, who was it that distinguished Arcas from Talon as aptly as Rickter did? He felt no real love or pride for the Demigod truth be told, and yet, when it came to the one he knew undoubtedly once before... the rhythm of his heartbeat intensified just at the mere thought. Talon had always been the one who beheld all of Rickter's ambitions, all of the faith and desire within him stemmed from just that man alone... And if that weren't enough?

Rickter didn't have much time to ponder this, as the prayers around him grew into a shared hymn, a song that carried out from within the temple into the woods surrounding it. That was when the wolf felt it in his arm, the soft warmth that once burned everything he believed away, the silver glimmer of the Eminence emblem shimmering on his skin. Patrick noticed the reaction and continued to look in awe, as Rickter himself closed his eyes to try and at least focus on what he knew. I can't say I'm ready to accept you... Or believe in whatever the fuck your cause really is... but I'm calling out to you. He silently prayed to the Demigod as he held his forearm with the other hand. Please...

And somehow that prayer was answered.

For a moment he'd thought it'd been the Echo once more, unexpectedly reacting to the event in whatever fashion it wanted. Yet it felt no resonance within his core, just the radiant warmth that called out to him once more. Yet the place he'd found himself caught up in was a change of scenery, as a dense fog seemed to perforate the area as they were led to witness the passing of structures. Spires perhaps. An area that Rickter hadn't the faintest idea where to look, even a feeling of familiarity bubbled up deep within his very core. What was he seeing just now? From where he looked he and Pahoran were both seeing this, the wall they passed through finished with a rather hazy glimpse within the other side.

What he then saw struck terror into the wolf's own heart, as the sight of a winged Avialae with silver wings fell upon his gaze. It was him beyond a shadow of a doubt, as Rickter's own heart ached at the mere sight of what he'd witnessed. His former Bondmate chained and bound with Pictographs literally etched into his skin, the markings in his flesh practically burning with aether as his skin slowly healed from the injuries. Rickter's eyes widened as he felt the deepest, if not faintest, cry for help reach his soul in those final moments; before the glimpse of whatever Arcas or Talon was now receded afterward.

As the Dawnfire faded out from within the room and the illuminating light lessened, Rickter's own emblem still continued to glimmer with a radiance profoundly matching his anger. As those within the temple noticed his change in demeanor, the weight in his shoulders seemed to intensify as Rickter growled. The air around him grew nearly frigid in a matter of seconds, as those closest to him drew back with gasps at what happened next. As Patrick tried to calm the wolf down, his words fell on deaf ears when the eyes of Rickter illuminated brightly. From the corner of his eyes over the irides and even pupils, a silver light shone from his eyes as he started to radiate aether from his skin. He started roaring out now angrily at everyone around him, as the Atinoran quickly moved to from consoling to containing Rickter where he stood.

But the warrior was far heavily outclassed here in both size and power. Rickter still stood taller than Patrick for one and with the mark of Eminence active, the wolf was practically a battering ram just waiting to lose control over himself. "Whoa! Whoa! Rickter! HEY, you need to calm down buddy!!" He urged as his arms wrapped underneath Rickter's, before the wolf shoved him off and peered about the crowd frantically. The Eminence mark on his forearm burned brilliantly as the aura the wolf emanated was a silvery blue now, the air within the temple filled with a rising pressure as other knights started to step in to attempt helping him regain control.

"Common" "Synskrit" "Norvaegan"
"Rickter" "Telion" "Hannah" "Patrick"

"Every side attacks you when you don't pick sides."

Posted: **Thu May 05, 2022 7:05 pm**

Pahoran
Rayunia

Knight of Justice

One with the
Light of Dawn,

Martyr for Hope

With the Order
Glade 7th, 122nd Year

Pahoran wasn’t surprised that the others marked by Arcas Talon joined him. He was very pleased though and smiled at each of them as the each united and began to reach out towards their patron. Pahoran closed his eyes and offered up a prayer reaching out towards Arcas Talon. Unlike others his prayer was different. Pahoran didn’t know for sure that the Imperium has Talon, but he suspected that they were the only ones with the magic to actually capture a divine and keep that power contained. He still remembered the power of the medallion and the effects it had had on his family.

Pah didn’t plead for himself though with his prayer instead he prayed for his patron. He prayed and reached out ‘Arcas Talon, friend and patron, I yearn to help you, and at this time I send you my strength, my loyalty, devotion and love.’ He though in his mind and repeated that prayer. Though once one of his elvish kinsman had started singing with them. He had no training in music but his voice was pleasant to hear and he knew the hymn.

He continued to alternate between prayers and hymns as the time passed, but in all cause he sent out his faith, his love, and his hope towards Arcas Talon. He felt himself tireing but he continued on pulling strength from those around him. There was fear and worry, Pahoran himself carried them, but he had been taught not to allow that to overcome his hope, and he felt the bound with these people as they also believed as he did and while each struggled with different degrees of fear and strength of hope, they were unified together in that struggle.

Then it came. Pahoran and Ricky were drawn towards something. Pah allowed the vision to take him where it would. He had been raised on stories of what the divines, and magic could do and like his earlier visit from another divine he moved with this one.

Pah felt his stomach turn at the sight that beheld him and he felt anger worry for Arcas Talon, who was first his friend and second his patron. He though brough his hand to his chest and said back “We will find you.” Hoping that it was communicated even as they were brought back to the old temple. Pahoran could still feel the anger at what had happened and his eyes flashed with that anger. He wasn’t allowed to really dwell in that anger though as Ricketer was beginning to glow. There were a few who stepped away from the man but Pah didn’t move away.

His looked at his grandfathers who nodded their heads even as Patrick tried to calm Ricketer. Taselia began to motion for the none marked knights to leave the building while Pah’s elvish grandfather, Falrisona, who was also marked moved with the other marked knights. They didn’t threaten or surround, though they did place themselves to protect those leaving the building. Pah felt his own emblem begin to glow and said to Ricketer. “Brother, you are angry at what is being done to Talon.” His voice was calm but the anger danced in the undertones of his voice and he ice blue eyes danced with the anger, but not at Ricketer or the others in the room. “Will you join us and use that anger to fight these monsters. To bring justice to them. Will you help us liberate Talon.” Pahoran put his hand on Ricky’s shoulder. He was a large man. He was ready to defend himself in necessary but he didn’t approach as an aggressor. “As a group we can hunt these villains better, and release our wrath upon them together instead of on each other. Lets not turn on each other, that would make his captors rejoice. Please join your anger with ours.”

Then the others spoke up. “Brother, join your anger with us we could use it.” And other such comments as the others who were marked spoke and called to him. Ricket might not be a knight but he was marked and so was a brother.

“Endurance is one
of the most difficult
disciplines, but it is
to the one who
endures that the
final victory comes.”

― Gautama Buddha.

Posted: **Sun Jul 10, 2022 12:26 am**

With the Order

Glade 7th, 122nd Year

Rickter struggled to break past that emotional boundary, feeling the hurt and pain in his soul welling up inside of himself in response to that vision. He felt the failure and the loss outweigh the logic of his thoughts, while the bitterness and anger filled his heart with a cold and righteous fury. The temple walls started to permeate as frost collected on their surface, while marked nights began to encircle Rickter in his position. Those within the temple were ushered out, though, there were a couple of individuals who struggled and even resisted leaving.

Lost in the haze of emotion clouding his thoughts Rickter's shimmering eyes scoured the room, eyeing each and every knight that stood at a distance from him. They didn't surround him, yet, but it was evident that the wolf was now tensed in his position. "Brother, you are angry at what is being done to Talon." The wolf's scornful gaze rested on Pahoran then, Rickter's lips at a curl to bare the fangs of his canines to the man. "Will you join us and use that anger to fight these monsters. To bring justice to them. Will you help us liberate Talon." The moment that Pahoran reached out to him, Rickter's hand lashed out in an outward curve, shoving the hand away as he snarled begrudgingly toward the knight.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Rickter!!" Patrick barked but his hoarse tone fell on deaf ears, as one of the marked knights pulled him out of their circle, due to the fact the Atinoran seemed helpless in getting through to them. Mutters and even concerned voices echoed through the outside of the temple doorway, as the shifting wolf started to grow taller and his clothes more strained from the confined muscles within them. Dark hair had started to coat the areas of his skin that was visible, all while Pahoran and the others continued to reach out him peacefully.

"As a group we can hunt these villains better, and release our wrath upon them together instead of on each other. Lets not turn on each other, that would make his captors rejoice. Please join your anger with ours."

And then the rest spoke out to him, calling for him to join his fury with their own. Rickter's roar resounded heavily from the walls now as the frost along them popped, and the temperature dropped rapidly to a cold snap before aether flashed behind him. The knights around the wolf all seemed horrified before, but now, the sight of a blonde woman in her blue suede dress clung to a half-shifted monster. "RICKTER STOP!" The prophetic breeze within the room died down, after the sound of her voice reached the wolf's pointed ears. The hesitation generated a moment of intense silence before Telion looked up from where her cheek rested, the fur of his back all on end as he remained stiff within her arms. "Please! Get ahold of yourself!"

The sheer amount of terror in her voice is most likely what snapped Rickter's attention back into reality. The moment he heard the concern in her tone the stiffened air lost its pressure, and the room felt breathable once more when the light in his eyes dimmed to a glow. Rickter breathed heavily as the hair on his body receded back to its original cover, and steam radiated off him during the process his form reduced its mass. "T...Telion?" He rasped quietly as he didn't realize how dry his throat had gone, and how rough his earlier cries were during the breakdown also.

"You're okay now, Rickter." She urged as he looked down to her warily, his eyes watery as she cupped his jaw with her hands. He noticed the scent of Hannah's aether on her, and suspected that in the confusion outside, the healer had her sent in to wrench Rickter back into reality when she did. "It's over now." Where reluctance had stayed his hands before the wolf no longer waited to hold her close to him, a sincerely regretful look in his gaze when he turned to notice that Pahoran and the other knights were still present.

"I'm... I'm sorry." He had no idea what came over him in that moment, only that the anger he felt was so immense, he felt ready to do as he planned once he was in Zaichaer. Was that a sign of how dangerous he was even to his family? How threatened they were just by his mere presence? How could he protect them when he himself was at risk of endangering them? He had no other words, just the apology for nearly risking harm unto everyone around him.

Like a beast gone feral.

"Common" "Synskrit" "Norvaegan"
"Rickter" "Telion" "Hannah" "Patrick"

"Every side attacks you when you don't pick sides."

Posted: **Tue Apr 25, 2023 7:28 pm**

Name: Rickter

Points: 10
Magic: These points cannot be used for magic.
Knowledge: 12 Lore Points
Injuries: N/A
Loot: N/A

Name: Pahoran

Points: 10
Magic: These points cannot be used for magic.
Knowledge: 11 Lore Points
Injuries: N/A
Loot: N/A

This got interesting toward the end, sad that it died out there but, alas, life does demand our time. Poke me whenever you have time to post again buddy! We'll get you something going.

Legend of Ransera

With the Order [Pah]

Re: With the Order [Pah]

Re: With the Order [Pah]

Re: With the Order [Pah]

Re: With the Order [Pah]

Re: With the Order [Pah]