| In the dim and distant past, when there were no mortal civilizations of note on the world and the sun still shone brightly, the entire planet was illuminated by its radiance in an untouched, unquestioned way. It was a time of plenty and expansion, when both the land and its inhabitants were thriving and bountiful. However, one day, without any prior notice, the sun suddenly disappeared, plunging the entire world into total darkness. People, having never lived in a world without the sun, panicked and became like beasts. They were unable to figure out how to live without it. Their crops shriveled and died, their animals died, and the people became despondent as they too shriveled and died in both body and soul. They beseeched the gods for assistance, but none of them came through for them, and the world descended into darkness and cold. The gloom was more than simply a material thing; it was also a spiritual one. People stopped believing, they stopped having hope, and they stopped seeing a future for themselves. They allowed themselves to be overcome by terror and desperation, and as a result, they turned against one another and against the gods they once held in reverence. However, the gods did not forsake them; they placed the men of the world under a test, and all the while, they listened to the pleas of the people, which they answered by giving us the first hero, Azimuth of the Torn Sky. She would be tasked with advocating the mortal agenda against the principality of darkness. Our first hero proceeded into the darkness armed with her sword and shield, and after a series of challenges and conflicts, she discovered the reason for the disappearance of the sun. It turned out to be a powerful corruption that was responsible for concealing the sun in order to throw the entire world into anarchy and darkness. The first hero fought a fierce battle against the demon, and in the end, she emerged victorious. She was successful in retrieving the sun and bringing it back to the globe; as a result, the light returned, and the world was once again enveloped in warmth for all time. The people were overjoyed, and they celebrated the sun's return while also expressing their gratitude to the gods. They pledged that they would never forget, and as a result, the first congregation of the Holy-Church was established at that time. |
~ Of the first hero and a time of great darkness
| ~ [Mablatta] ~ |
| Elf, Female, Alchemist |
| Location: The Village of Isaiah |
The alchemist is standing in her modest shop, which is crammed with scavenged books containing encyclopedic knowledge as well as vials containing, for the majority of people, unknown liquids and powders that she needs for her trade. She is an accomplished practitioner of alchemy, yet even with her assurance of work and money in normal times, she lives in constant worry about what lies ahead. The southern city where she had resided had been invaded and utterly destroyed by monsters, and she and her comrades had escaped before it was too late. They fled towards the tower of Isaiah, despite all of their doubts about it after all this time. However, the monsters have left the city, and the dread march has made its way towards the tower too. There’s nowhere else to go; they’re trapped up on the island now, and it’s too late to go back down.
Mablatta sighs, sitting on her chair and dropping her head to her desk in her folded arms.
She uses her time during the day to manufacture various potions and treatments in the hopes of assisting her friends and the people living in this village. Many, many people had been direly hurt in the attack and their escape. Many died and many more are simply grievously wounded. However, she is powerless to dispel her sense of impending doom. She is conscious of the fact that their resources are dwindling and that the monsters are going to be at the village in a short while. If they breach the sub-tower below the island, they’ll rampage through the village, won’t they? What are they supposed to do then?
“You good?” asks a voice from the side. She rolls her head over her arm, staring at her friend. The man is sitting on a fluffy cushion that they traded a few strong potions for. Apparently, it was a drop from one of the tower’s monsters.
“What choice is there?” she asks, her cheek squishing against her forearm.
She has witnessed the death and destruction that the monsters have caused, and as a result, she cannot help but constantly question if they will be able to make it through this, despite her desire to keep busy with her work. It prevents her from focusing, which is dangerous for an alchemist. Potions are volatile. She has overheard the screams of those who are passing away, and she can't help but assume that they will soon be the ones doing the screaming themselves.
“You sure are a downer,” replies the man, raising an eyebrow.
She purses her lips.
She is constantly second-guessing herself, wondering if she made the appropriate choice to run to the tower. Maybe they should have kept running instead, out into the wilds? Maybe they should have looked for another safe haven, maybe they should have done something else? Maybe they should have done any of these things.
However, it is too late for that now because they are trapped inside this tower and the monsters are getting closer, no matter how much she worries about it.
Mablatta makes an effort to maintain her concentration on her work, but she just can't.
“Wanna go for a walk?” asks her friend.
“No,” she replies, sighing.
He tilts his head. “Wanna go get something to eat?”
“…No…” groans the alchemist, turning her face back down against the table.
“Wanna go pray to Isaiah?”
She loudly groans, raising the pitch of her voice.
| ~ [Gregorian] ~ |
| Human, Male, Hunter |
| Location: The Village of Isaiah |
A bow and quiver are slung over the hunter's shoulder as he stands outside the modest home he calls his own in the community that belongs to Isaiah. He has a lot of experience hunting, and he helps provide for his family by going out into the island's more remote areas. However, the island is not at all like the old forest where he used to hunt before he moved here. It is significantly more hazardous, and he is on edge all the time as a result. Yes, there are no monsters of darkness and terror here; it is true.
But monsters of divinity and holiness have talons and claws that are just as sharp.
Gregorian has been out on the hunt for several days, but there is very little game to be found as others have taken the island as their home too. Rabbits and the easy pray are all scared and have fled into the distant forest. He is becoming increasingly concerned about providing for his family. He is well aware that going out hunting puts him in danger, but he does not have a choice in the matter. He needs to provide for his family, but there is very little food left in the community.
“Must you go again?” asks his wife in a hushed voice, as their children are sleeping in the bed they share in the small house that they’ve built.
He places a hand on her chest. “If you insist on eating again today, I must go.”
“Then I decline,” replies the dark-elf woman, holding her hands over his, which lies on her collarbone.
He nods. “Very well. Then you will tell our children why they hunger?” asks Gregorian, causing her to lower her head and hold his hand against her cheek.
“You are such a cruel man, Gregorian,” she replies, closing her eyes.
The cruel man leans forward, kissing her on the forehead, before he makes his way out the door, his bow in his hand. He is quite familiar with the island, and he makes sure to steer clear of any regions that have been reported to have some of the more dangerous monsters. He is aware that he is not the only one hunting, that other people in the village are also hunting, and that they are all competing for the same limited resources.
Gregorian wanders off into the deep forest.
He has been out on the prowl for several hours, but so far he has only shot a few rabbits and squirrels, which is pleasant, but not enough to feed a wife and two children for long. How long can they do this for?
How long can he do this for?
He is aware that they need to get off the island, but he is unsure of where they may possibly go. He has heard reports of other locations that are safe, such as the other cities in the north, east, and west, but he is unsure as to whether or not such rumors are accurate. He can only hope that they are safe. Gods help them after what happened to the south.
Gregorian pushes deeper still into the forest, searching for food for his family.
| ~ [Shotili] ~ |
| Elf, Male, Swordsman |
| Location: The Island, Beach on the Southern Edge |
The intrepid traveler is seen sitting by himself on the beach and gazing out at the water, staring at the ocean that spans towards the edge of the island, before turning into a grand waterfall that rains down to the world below. He has traveled much during his life, and as a result, he has witnessed his fair share of peril and devastation. However, he had no way of preparing himself for the deaths of his family and the people he held to be important.
Let alone so suddenly.
“Hey,” says a voice from next to him, as someone grabs his shoulder.
He ignores her.
When his adventuring party arrived on the island weeks ago, their first plan after earning their riches here was to make a return journey to the southern city.
But that plan is done for now.
The southern city is done for now.
After being gone for such a long time, all of these weeks, he was looking forward to reuniting with his relatives, who had previously called that location home. But they were no longer there, and he was left with nothing but sorrow and remorse in their absence. He doesn’t know if they made it away, or if they died in the chaos. They weren’t amongst the refugees, and nobody he’s asked can tell him anything. Maybe they ran away to somewhere else? It’s possible.
Or maybe they died.
It’s also possible.
His friends, his party members, are trying to comfort him, but he has emotionally shut off, and they cannot reach him. Because he is preoccupied with his own feelings of loss, he is unable to comprehend what has taken place. He is furious with himself for not being there to protect his family. Why the hell was he out here?
Just to make money.
He came to this stupid island to make money.
That’s the only reason he was here instead of with his family, where he was needed.
Shotili looks down, staring at the sand between his feet, as the waves crash against the shore not far from him.
What now?
“Hey…” says a voice from the side again as she shakes him a second time. He turns to look at the woman, their party archer. “It’s going to be okay,” she promises, nodding.
He nods once before lowering his gaze again to stare at the sand as he thinks.
Is it?
| ~ [Kalifii] ~ |
| Human, Female, Fighter Advanced Class - Fencer |
| Location: The Village of Isaiah |
The adventuring party congregates around the fire at the bottom of the staircase with their arms and armor drawn and ready for action. They are a seasoned bunch that has been traveling together for years, so they are very comfortable with one another. However, as of today, they have a new member in their group.
Kalifii looks at the newcomer, a refugee from the city who practically begged them for a chance to prove herself.
The newcomer is a young woman with short hair who managed to escape the disaster that struck the southern city where she was living. She has apparently lost her family there, her home, and all of her things in this tragedy. New to the group, she has pledged to pull her weight and assist in their assaults on the tower. It is the only way for her to make money and keep herself alive, despite the fact that the tower is a perilous area teeming with creatures and treasure.
“You guys ready?” asks Kalifii, knowing that her people are. The question is more for the newcomer, who looks around like a lost rabbit. She usually wouldn’t take on charity cases, but, well…
— She looks up at the tower.
Maybe the whole Isaiah thing is starting to get to her.
“What’s your class again?” asks the fencer, turning to walk into the golden instance gate of the tower of Isaiah as they are ready to start over from floor one again. “Nostrae?”
“Warlock,” replies Nostrae, smiling as she rolls her shoulders.
“Oh boy, you’re gonna have a hell of a time here,” says Kalifii.
“Oh… believe me, I already have,” replies the newcomer, walking into the dungeon after her, the glow of the gate swallowing them both.
| In the dim and distant past, when there were no mortal civilizations of note on the world and the sun still shone brightly, the entire planet was illuminated by its radiance in an untouched, unquestioned way. It was a time of plenty and expansion, when both the land and its inhabitants were thriving and bountiful. However, one day, without any prior notice, the sun suddenly disappeared, plunging the entire world into total darkness. People, having never lived in a world without the sun, panicked and became like beasts. They were unable to figure out how to live without it. Their crops shriveled and died, their animals died, and the people became despondent as they too shriveled and died in both body and soul. They beseeched the gods for assistance, but none of them came through for them, and the world descended into darkness and cold. The gloom was more than simply a material thing; it was also a spiritual one. People stopped believing, they stopped having hope, and they stopped seeing a future for themselves. They allowed themselves to be overcome by terror and desperation, and as a result, they turned against one another and against the gods they once held in reverence. However, the gods did not forsake them; they placed the men of the world under a test, and all the while, they listened to the pleas of the people, which they answered by giving us the first hero, Azimuth of the Torn Sky. She would be tasked with advocating the mortal agenda against the principality of darkness. Our first hero proceeded into the darkness armed with her sword and shield, and after a series of challenges and conflicts, she discovered the reason for the disappearance of the sun. It turned out to be a powerful corruption that was responsible for concealing the sun in order to throw the entire world into anarchy and darkness. The first hero fought a fierce battle against the demon, and in the end, she emerged victorious. She was successful in retrieving the sun and bringing it back to the globe; as a result, the light returned, and the world was once again enveloped in warmth for all time. The people were overjoyed, and they celebrated the sun's return while also expressing their gratitude to the gods. They pledged that they would never forget, and as a result, the first congregation of the Holy-Church was established at that time. |
~ Of the first hero and a time of great darkness
| ~ [Mablatta] ~ |
| Elf, Female, Alchemist |
| Location: The Village of Isaiah |
The alchemist is standing in her modest shop, which is crammed with scavenged books containing encyclopedic knowledge as well as vials containing, for the majority of people, unknown liquids and powders that she needs for her trade. She is an accomplished practitioner of alchemy, yet even with her assurance of work and money in normal times, she lives in constant worry about what lies ahead. The southern city where she had resided had been invaded and utterly destroyed by monsters, and she and her comrades had escaped before it was too late. They fled towards the tower of Isaiah, despite all of their doubts about it after all this time. However, the monsters have left the city, and the dread march has made its way towards the tower too. There’s nowhere else to go; they’re trapped up on the island now, and it’s too late to go back down.
Mablatta sighs, sitting on her chair and dropping her head to her desk in her folded arms.
She uses her time during the day to manufacture various potions and treatments in the hopes of assisting her friends and the people living in this village. Many, many people had been direly hurt in the attack and their escape. Many died and many more are simply grievously wounded. However, she is powerless to dispel her sense of impending doom. She is conscious of the fact that their resources are dwindling and that the monsters are going to be at the village in a short while. If they breach the sub-tower below the island, they’ll rampage through the village, won’t they? What are they supposed to do then?
“You good?” asks a voice from the side. She rolls her head over her arm, staring at her friend. The man is sitting on a fluffy cushion that they traded a few strong potions for. Apparently, it was a drop from one of the tower’s monsters.
“What choice is there?” she asks, her cheek squishing against her forearm.
She has witnessed the death and destruction that the monsters have caused, and as a result, she cannot help but constantly question if they will be able to make it through this, despite her desire to keep busy with her work. It prevents her from focusing, which is dangerous for an alchemist. Potions are volatile. She has overheard the screams of those who are passing away, and she can't help but assume that they will soon be the ones doing the screaming themselves.
“You sure are a downer,” replies the man, raising an eyebrow.
She purses her lips.
She is constantly second-guessing herself, wondering if she made the appropriate choice to run to the tower. Maybe they should have kept running instead, out into the wilds? Maybe they should have looked for another safe haven, maybe they should have done something else? Maybe they should have done any of these things.
However, it is too late for that now because they are trapped inside this tower and the monsters are getting closer, no matter how much she worries about it.
Mablatta makes an effort to maintain her concentration on her work, but she just can't.
“Wanna go for a walk?” asks her friend.
“No,” she replies, sighing.
He tilts his head. “Wanna go get something to eat?”
“…No…” groans the alchemist, turning her face back down against the table.
“Wanna go pray to Isaiah?”
She loudly groans, raising the pitch of her voice.
| ~ [Gregorian] ~ |
| Human, Male, Hunter |
| Location: The Village of Isaiah |
A bow and quiver are slung over the hunter's shoulder as he stands outside the modest home he calls his own in the community that belongs to Isaiah. He has a lot of experience hunting, and he helps provide for his family by going out into the island's more remote areas. However, the island is not at all like the old forest where he used to hunt before he moved here. It is significantly more hazardous, and he is on edge all the time as a result. Yes, there are no monsters of darkness and terror here; it is true.
But monsters of divinity and holiness have talons and claws that are just as sharp.
Gregorian has been out on the hunt for several days, but there is very little game to be found as others have taken the island as their home too. Rabbits and the easy pray are all scared and have fled into the distant forest. He is becoming increasingly concerned about providing for his family. He is well aware that going out hunting puts him in danger, but he does not have a choice in the matter. He needs to provide for his family, but there is very little food left in the community.
“Must you go again?” asks his wife in a hushed voice, as their children are sleeping in the bed they share in the small house that they’ve built.
He places a hand on her chest. “If you insist on eating again today, I must go.”
“Then I decline,” replies the dark-elf woman, holding her hands over his, which lies on her collarbone.
He nods. “Very well. Then you will tell our children why they hunger?” asks Gregorian, causing her to lower her head and hold his hand against her cheek.
“You are such a cruel man, Gregorian,” she replies, closing her eyes.
The cruel man leans forward, kissing her on the forehead, before he makes his way out the door, his bow in his hand. He is quite familiar with the island, and he makes sure to steer clear of any regions that have been reported to have some of the more dangerous monsters. He is aware that he is not the only one hunting, that other people in the village are also hunting, and that they are all competing for the same limited resources.
Gregorian wanders off into the deep forest.
He has been out on the prowl for several hours, but so far he has only shot a few rabbits and squirrels, which is pleasant, but not enough to feed a wife and two children for long. How long can they do this for?
How long can he do this for?
He is aware that they need to get off the island, but he is unsure of where they may possibly go. He has heard reports of other locations that are safe, such as the other cities in the north, east, and west, but he is unsure as to whether or not such rumors are accurate. He can only hope that they are safe. Gods help them after what happened to the south.
Gregorian pushes deeper still into the forest, searching for food for his family.
| ~ [Shotili] ~ |
| Elf, Male, Swordsman |
| Location: The Island, Beach on the Southern Edge |
The intrepid traveler is seen sitting by himself on the beach and gazing out at the water, staring at the ocean that spans towards the edge of the island, before turning into a grand waterfall that rains down to the world below. He has traveled much during his life, and as a result, he has witnessed his fair share of peril and devastation. However, he had no way of preparing himself for the deaths of his family and the people he held to be important.
Let alone so suddenly.
“Hey,” says a voice from next to him, as someone grabs his shoulder.
He ignores her.
When his adventuring party arrived on the island weeks ago, their first plan after earning their riches here was to make a return journey to the southern city.
But that plan is done for now.
The southern city is done for now.
After being gone for such a long time, all of these weeks, he was looking forward to reuniting with his relatives, who had previously called that location home. But they were no longer there, and he was left with nothing but sorrow and remorse in their absence. He doesn’t know if they made it away, or if they died in the chaos. They weren’t amongst the refugees, and nobody he’s asked can tell him anything. Maybe they ran away to somewhere else? It’s possible.
Or maybe they died.
It’s also possible.
His friends, his party members, are trying to comfort him, but he has emotionally shut off, and they cannot reach him. Because he is preoccupied with his own feelings of loss, he is unable to comprehend what has taken place. He is furious with himself for not being there to protect his family. Why the hell was he out here?
Just to make money.
He came to this stupid island to make money.
That’s the only reason he was here instead of with his family, where he was needed.
Shotili looks down, staring at the sand between his feet, as the waves crash against the shore not far from him.
What now?
“Hey…” says a voice from the side again as she shakes him a second time. He turns to look at the woman, their party archer. “It’s going to be okay,” she promises, nodding.
He nods once before lowering his gaze again to stare at the sand as he thinks.
Is it?
| ~ [Kalifii] ~ |
| Human, Female, Fighter Advanced Class - Fencer |
| Location: The Village of Isaiah |
The adventuring party congregates around the fire at the bottom of the staircase with their arms and armor drawn and ready for action. They are a seasoned bunch that has been traveling together for years, so they are very comfortable with one another. However, as of today, they have a new member in their group.
Kalifii looks at the newcomer, a refugee from the city who practically begged them for a chance to prove herself.
The newcomer is a young woman with short hair who managed to escape the disaster that struck the southern city where she was living. She has apparently lost her family there, her home, and all of her things in this tragedy. New to the group, she has pledged to pull her weight and assist in their assaults on the tower. It is the only way for her to make money and keep herself alive, despite the fact that the tower is a perilous area teeming with creatures and treasure.
“You guys ready?” asks Kalifii, knowing that her people are. The question is more for the newcomer, who looks around like a lost rabbit. She usually wouldn’t take on charity cases, but, well…
— She looks up at the tower.
Maybe the whole Isaiah thing is starting to get to her.
“What’s your class again?” asks the fencer, turning to walk into the golden instance gate of the tower of Isaiah as they are ready to start over from floor one again. “Nostrae?”
“Warlock,” replies Nostrae, smiling as she rolls her shoulders.
“Oh boy, you’re gonna have a hell of a time here,” says Kalifii.
“Oh… believe me, I already have,” replies the newcomer, walking into the dungeon after her, the glow of the gate swallowing them both.
