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The Creation War: Dragonsoul [Start-Up]

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Renewal

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@Master Mew; @AmeKren; @Yun; @Pi Face; @Plumbum;

The Creation War:
DRAGONSOUL​

The World:
The Kingdoms of the Sun:
the_kingdoms_of_the_sun.png

A map of the thirteen Kingdoms​

The Kingdoms of the Sun are a small archipelago comprised of fourteen islands, and the only known landmasses on the world of Aether. The endless sea that surrounds them is named Cyr. The Kingdoms are arranged in a vague ring, with the island of Solis resting near its center. Surrounding Solis and the center of the ring is a giant, unending wall of storms, variously dubbed the Maelstrom, the Dragonsbane, the Wrath of Hydraex. The Maelstrom prevents any ship from crossing across the center of the ring, forcing ships to cross the greater distance of the ring's circumference.

The Kingdoms can be divided into two groups: the seven elemental islands that are the final resting places of the Dragons, and the six remaining outer kingdoms. The elemental islands are distinguished by the sheer force of Mana surrounding them; the raw power of the Dragons continues to affect their terrain, long after their death. As numbered on the map:

  • 0. Solis - the heart of the Kingdoms, and the capital of the Lircon Empire. Protected from the rest of the world by the Maelstrom, it is rumored by inhabitants of the other islands that Solis is a paradise that has never known war and boasts technology far surpassing that of the other Kingdoms. The truth is uncertain; the only beings who leave Solis are the Imperial officials and officers that maintain the Empire.
  • 1. Ignis - the resting place of the Dragon of Fire. Its most notable feature is the dormant volcano near the center of the island; the shrine to the Fire Dragon stands within its caldera. Ignis is mostly rural; it has no large cities, and supports mostly farming communities. As such, though it is one of the seven elemental islands, it is considered a backwater, and Imperial influence is very low. It is rumored to be the home of the Moonfall Rebellion.
  • 2. Terrae - the resting place of the Dragon of Earth. It is rocky and mountainous, and most of its inhabitants live near the shores of the island. The srhine of the Earth Dragon is located on the peak of Summa, the highest mountain on the island. Though the terrain is difficult, Terrae boasts large reserves of metal ores, and thus is an important port and manufacturing center for the Empire. The Empire's main garrison is thus stationed here.
  • 3. Lucis - the resting place of the Dragon of Light. A peaceful, forested isle, Lucis is famous for its unusually dense concentrations of ambient Mana. Many magically-attuned individuals are born here, and it features the Kingdoms' only dedicated magical academy. The shrine of the Light Dragon is located beneath the academy, which was built around and over it.
  • 4. Aquae - the resting place of the Dragon of Water. Gloomy, wet, and marshy, it is crisscrossed by dozens of streams and rivers and dotted with just as many lakes and ponds. Though many fishing communities line its shores, Aquae would be unimportant, were it not for Emperess Polanna Lircon's influence in declaring the cult of the Water Dragon Hydraex the official religion of the Empire. The shrine to Hydraex is the site of many pilgrimages and floats at the center of the island's largest lake.
  • 5. Venti - the resting place of the Dragon of Wind. The island is gentle and open, predominantly flat and hilly, though its southern shore is crowned with imposing mountains. The shrine to the Wind Dragon is located somewhere within those mountains. Because of the ease of settling in Venti, it is the most populous of the elemental islands.
  • 6. Umbrae - the resting place of the Dragon of Shadow. It is very similar to Lucis, being thickly forested and boasting unusually dense concentrations of Mana, but it's forests are older, fiercer, more closely grown. Whereas Lucis's forests are bathed in sunlight, the dense canopy of Umbrae's forests means the forest floor sees very little light. Umbrae attracts loners rather than groups, and is mainly unpopulated save for a small port town on the southern shoreline. The shrine to the Shadow Dragon is located in the heart of its forests.
  • 7. Fulminis - the resting place of the Dragon of Lightning. Rocky, barren, and constantly obscured by a dense cover of stormclouds, Fulminis is the only island in the thirteen Kingdoms to have no communities; only lone stragglers make their place here. The shrine to the Lightning Dragon is supposedly somewhere on the island, though no records of it exist.
  • 8. Hextin - wild and untamed, Hextin is considered the frontier of the Empire. Many strange and exotic monsters roam the island, forcing its few inhabitants to adapt or die.
  • 9. Pentron - near rich and prosperous Venti, Pentron is effectively Venti's sister island, nearly as fertile and open as the island of wind. Those dissatisfied with the more populated Venti often make their way here.
  • 10. Trimos - large and varied in terrain, Trimos is the crown jewel of the Empire, the most populous island of the thirteen, and boasts several cities. More importantly, it is a key hub of trade, second only to Binthum, and sees many travelers heading to either Lucis or Aquae.
  • 11. Tetrum - the southernmost island, Tetrum's only worthwhile feature is its calm and sheltered bay. The quiet beaches lining its bay make Tetrum a resort island of sorts for the rich and powerful.
  • 12. Binthum - midway between Lucis and Terrae, Binthum is the heart of the Empire's economy, overseeing both the trade of manufactured goods and magical artifacts. Thus, it is the de facto capital of the Empire, because of Solis's inaccessibility, and houses the Empire's central garrison, naval base and shipyards, and the Imperial Bureaucracy.
  • 13. Montrem - the easternmost island and the island most removed from the ring of the Kingdoms. It is mainly a place of exile, and is home to the Imperial Arena, where criminals are executed in gladiatorial combat and other sorts of public spectacle. The Tower of Aurora is located on its easternmost point, but is widely regarded to be an abandoned ruin.

Mana:
Mana is the ambient magical energy of Aether, tamed and shaped by the Dragons. It is omnipresent throughout the kingdom, and every individual can tap into it to augment their abilities or perform magic. Certain locations, such as the islands of Lucis and Umbrae, naturally attract greater concentrations of Mana, and thus further amplifies the powers of its residents. However, there are legends of certain locations where Mana is virtually unlimited, which could teoretically grant an individual limitless power. These sites are named Manafonts. However, these legends remain unsubstantiated, with not a single one found in the thousand years since the Cataclysm.

The Dragonsouls:
The Dragonsouls are the reincarnations of the Dragons. Yet their identities are unknown, their power obscured by the ambient Mana. While a Dragonsoul is typically no different from an ordinary mortal, they have the power to access to long buried power of the Dragons. Because of this, they have powerful affinities for magic. Moreover, should a Dragonsoul come into contact with an actual draconic relic, such as those at the Dragon shrines, they could unlock unbelievable potential. Because of this power, both the Empire and the Rebellion seek to control the Dragonsouls or eliminate them. Even now, the Empire is rounding up rogue magicians and other individuals of exceptional Mana control and sending them to the Arena at Montrem, to find the Dragonsouls by forcing them into deadly combat.

Plot Summary:
As the RP progresses, major events will be added to the timeline below. Important NPC names will be italicized; location names will be underlined. Current events will be marked in bold. In addition, ongoing events--that is, ones where your character can simply jump in with a small bit of rationalization--will be marked as [OPEN] at the end. Events that are not--such as if our characters end up locked in a small room--will be marked [CLOSED]. Lastly, events that are deemed as especially important to the plot--such as a hypothetical resolution to the Imperial-Rebellion conflict--will be marked as [IMPORTANT].

THE PLOT SO FAR:

  • Emperor Apollon Lircos observes the planned execution of various individuals deemed to wield magical power threatening to the Empire at the Grand Arena on Montrem. [OPEN]

Use this summary as a general recap, then ask for specifics.

* * *​

[OOC: Now, in homage to the beginning of most Elder Scrolls games--Skyrim in particular--(some of) our characters start off imprisoned. And on their way to their execution. Fun, isn't it :-p?]

The cart trundled along on the bumpy path, bouncing about the uneven slope, rattling the chains of those aboard. The gloomy lighting of the tunnel--and the inevitable destination ahead--did nothing to ease the eerie clanking of metal.

"Well, it could be worse," Theon said, a half-smile still, somehow, on his lips. Even the rough, un-sanded boards of the shoddily-built wooden cart--not to mention their impending executions--could do little to dampen his perpetually jovial mood.

Seated across from him, legs elegantly crossed despite the cuffs at her ankles and the length of chain restricting them, Brianna snorted. 'I always regret asking this, but how, exactly?"

Leaning back on the side of the cart, Theon raised his arms--bound at the wrist much like his ankles--and lowered the brim of his hat over his eyes. "For one, they could have executed us on the spot. For two, they could have just had us hung--or decapitated, or gutted, or, you know, some other fittingly gruesome torture--and be done with it. The fact we're here at the Arena means they're expecting a show."

His human companion rolled her eyes. "We're going to be fighting to the death, and I don't plan on just lying down and letting some untrained idiot kill me. There'll doubtless be dozens of guards to make sure we prisoners don't get uppity in the Arena. One way or another, we're all going to die. It wouldn't do to upset the crowd's fun, after alll."

Eyes still obscured, Theon let his half-smile blossom into a full grin. "Just relax, Bri. I have a good feeling about this."

After all, the elven enchanter suspected that no one in the Empire quite understood just how much potential the passengers of the cart had (least of all the passengers themselves). Lunicem would be pleased. The man couldn't have picked a better target.
 
Tuning out what he deemed a mundane discussion, Torveste bowed his head, examining his bindings quietly as he reflected on their circumstances. Gentle puffs of wind danced through his blonde hair, whipping across the elf's face.

"Despair is a petty endeavor," he murmured, abruptly breaking his silence. "Bemoaning the misfortune of our present circumstances is irrelevant. We must look forward, to set our eyes anywhere else is futility."
 
Calasanz looked at her bindings curiously. "I see that they didn't much care about the quality off the bindings."
 
Jago questioned his presence in the prison wagon. These were individuals with extensive mana control, and his ability to control mana was limited. But perhaps technical skill was an excellence all of it's own.

Either way, the technical whiz simply kept a neutral expression and looked straight ahead. He did not interact with anyone. He didn't even make eye contact. He just contemplated his escape plan.
 
Calsanz looked around the wagon, taking in the appearance of the other captives. "It's a rather depressing atmosphere in here, isn't it?"
 
Claire sat in the wagon, her eyes closed as her rose-colored hair lie on her face. She was rather tired, a hangover from a night of binge drinking taking its toll on her mind. She didn't want to talk, due to the fact that it would come out as a slurred, broken mess. Frankly, it seemed stupid that they would be taking them to be killed. It didn't frighten her. They wanted to make an example of them. 'If my head wasn't killing me right now, I'd be angry.'

What a fucking pain. Literally.
 
Rolling his shoulders and flexing his hands to ease the tense muscles, Theon offered one last quip as the cart reached the end of the tunnel, as bright sunlight and the faint taste of a warm salty breeze replaced dim torchlight and the dank stench of the Arena's catacombs. "Any last words. Because it looks like the show's about to begin."

The cart rolled onto the flat, sandy floor of the Grand Arena. Squinting and grimacing at the brightness, Brianna craned her neck as best she could despite the restraints. Spearmen garbed in Imperial gold and blue lined the edge of the Arena, easily four dozen strong, four of which smoothly moved from beside the tunnel's mouth to watch the rear of the prison cart. At the center of the Arena were four granite pillars arranged in a rectangle, all eroded and battered with age. And up above the sky was clear and impossibly blue; not a single cloud marred the near overwhelming light of the Aethereal sun.

Yet, dazzled as she was by the light after a night in a dark prison cell, the din of the crowd overwhelmed all else. The front row was dominated by Imperial officials, decked out in everything from somber robes of deep navy to ostentatious affairs of lace and powder blue silk. Behind them were various soldier types, in military blue and gold, many of them also armed and armored.

And behind them were the mob. Where the officials and officers at least had the decency to don formal attire, in the somewhat tasteful livery of the Empire, the crowd was a riot of color and festival wear--and also of motion and bloodlust. Brianna winced at the sight of them--though the bureaucrats were stern, and the soldiers rather bored, the crowd practically seethed, hollering and shouting, no doubt growing louder with the appearance of their cart.

Taken as she was by the sheer presence of the spectators, Brianna barely heard Theon curse across from her. "What is it?" she asked, turning her attention back to the elf.

"Damn, we didn't-- I didn't..." he muttered. "This wasn't in the plan." His lips tightened, and he inclined his head directly before them, on the opposite side of the Arena. Brianna followed the motion with her eyes. There, raised above the rows of benches, surrounded by high walls, and draped in fine curtains--in the customary blue and gold--was the sole box in the Arena. Though the drapery was out of place in the tan stone of the Arena, the box itself seemed rather empty and unadorned, featuring only a single chair of rather plain wood, which was currently occupied.

The box's occupant was, compared to the more eye-watering members of the nobility in the crowd, rather simply dressed, wearing a plain blue coat edged in gold and simple black pants. At this distance, Brianna couldn't make out his features, though a silver band glinted around his forehead. But the exclusivity of his seat could mean only one thing.

"The Emperor himself is here," Theon bit out. "This isn't just a run of the mill execution." He cursed again. "I am going to have words with Lunicem."
 
Mugen looked around the area. It was pretty obvious they were going to die. Or at least, supposed to. He decided he'd make up for that by at least giving the audience a show.

"Good morning arena! Gotta say, I've never had such a lovely audience." He said, loud enough for the spectators to hear.
 
"At least someone is having fun."
 
Jago rolled his eyes, still not having moved an inch.

"Of course. Make their lust for your blood greater."
 
"Fool..." Torveste muttered under his breath, the elf shooting Mugen a scornful glare.

Directing his attention to Theon, he murmured, "You look unsettled, enchanter. More so than moments ago, at least. Not what you had in mind?" It was a weak attempt at sarcasm, to be sure, but ill-humor was understandable given the circumstances.
 
Claire listened to the conversation, her hair still covering her eyes. Really, all of this noise. Sitting up, she readied herself to leave the cart, shaking her head. Her eyes peaked from under her rosy locks, gazing impassively at a crowd most unperturbed. "Oh joy, a mob," as if the world couldn't get more heartless. That's what they needed, a collective hive mind of complete disassociation and abstract schadenfreude. 'Just like them.'

Then again, she didn't really find herself that much of a victim. She did go around all of the other men, dressed in very little clothing. God forbid her midnight run-ins with those few dangerously handsome imperial guards. A fourteen year-old can only be exposed to and participate in so much before she was labelled an absolute slut. She'd earned that title before she became fifteen. And then, they gave up on her. She struggled to better herself; become at least a semi-productive citizen.

Feh, yeah right. And look where the hell that got her. Smack-dab in the middle of what might be her final moments. 'Screw that,' she thought insolently. She would find a way out, or damn her right to the deepest bowels of the underworld. Looking around, she found her vision skewered by the blur of migraines and hair obstruction. "Note to self... never get drunk before being wheeled off to death ever again."

If she got out of this, she'd make good on the promise. Probably. She wasn't an alcoholic, but she was definitely outgoing with the bottle. Looking into the crowds, she decided that now would be a good time to start thinking. 'Now... who can I use as a distraction?'
 
"What? We're supposed to be entertaining the audience." Mugen said. He dropped his voice low. "And I don't know about you guys, but movies where the characters escape from certain doom are always fun in my book. Especially one with such beautiful female leads." He looked at Claire and Calsanz. He wrapped a lock of his silvery hair around a finger.
 
Calasanz chuckles. "Personally, I believe that if one is in a hopeless situation, one should go out with a bang, no?" "Then again, you never know. Something might happen that let's us make a daring escape." She mused.
 
Claire looked to Calasanz, her migraine allowing her enough muscle coordination to raise her eyebrow. Still, her hair obstructed the view of her face. Looking to the woman, she decided to reply. "And when that happens, I'm going to make sure I slaughter the guys who brought me here."

Indeed, Claire was never one to show her anger... but damn. They really pissed her off today. It wasn't evident in her voice, but they'd really incensed a dragon, today. Looking again, she saw a couple of guards standing in a lone circle. Perfect.

Time to work. "Oof!" Claire tripped over her foot, falling to the ground. "Ouch... dammit... why?" she put just enough anguish in her voice to convey that sense of helplessness. The bastards would love it.
 
Tail swishing idly, Calasanz searched for an opening to escape. Or cause a riot. One may be mutual to the other, but whatever worked.
 
Jago finally exited the cart. He stepped out into the arena and barely moved as he scanned the arena, watching the crowd, the giards, the emperor, the opening, the chance to escape. He neither said anything nor made any change to his expression.

He felt a lot more vulnerable without his gadgets to hand. He could move them from his shop, and smaller objects like the spikes for the Launcher wouldn't be a problem to almost teleport in, but of course, he was short one Launcher. He needed enough time to build another one. But he didn't have the time to call upon anything, his sword would take too long to reach him. Still he quietly brought in some spikes under his sleeve. Improvisation might be necessary.
 
((OOC: @Renewal; Sorry if this speeds the plot up a little too much.))

The guards of the stadium took notice of the pink-haired woman tumbling to the ground. In her "pain", they could hear the abject vulnerability in her voice. To some of the sicker minds in the group nearest to them, that turned them on. A free prisoner to have, and one who could barely stand on her feet... something about that awakened a coarse in their loins. But no, they had a job to do.

"Hey!" one of the guards roughly pulled up Clarissa by her hair, causing her to yelp in pain. Real pain, this time. "You get up now, got that?!"

Clarissa looked away. "Screw you... you don't tell me what to do," her tone was just petulant enough to get the desired reaction out of the man. She watched his teeth grit in anger, yanking her by the hair again. She let out little more than a whimper, though it was forced.

"You little- guards, come here!" on cue, two more guards came to the man. They both saluted to him. He must've been high-ranking... perfect. "Take this bitch over there until it's her turn. Be nice to let her watch from a closer view..." the men nodded, the smirks on their faces evident. As they grabbed hold of Clarissa, bringing her into a group of soldiers, the man spoke out to them. "And be careful! She's a clumsy one!"

Clarissa heard them chuckle, saying something along the lines of "she's a cute little klutz". Sickening. Now, all she had to do was wait. Wait until all of the guards were distracted... then, she would make her move.
 
[OOC: Not at all, Yun. Sorry for taking so long to post, all; I've been distracted this week getting ready for my move-in to college. Plus, I picked up the iOS version of TWEWY, and got... sidetracked to say the least. Let's get moving.]

Brianna shifted uneasily as they were herded by the guards into the center of the arena, some (like the rose-haired girl who had 'tripped' earlier) more roughly than others. She stifled a growl in frustration, resisting the urge to strain at her chains and draw the guards' attention. As soon as all the prisoners were within the square marked by the four pillars, the guards retreated, leaving them alone and exposed to the ravenous scrutiny of the crowd.

She heard Theon muttering behind her, when suddenly his voice rang clear and strong in her ears. The way the others reacted at the same time, she surmised they were all hearing the same. "I've cast a low level Glamour on us all. To the guards it should sound as if we're bemoaning our fates and praying to our deities of choice."

Brianna struggled to keep the triumphant smirk off her face, unsure if her companion's illusion was only auditory in nature. "Finally. Now what's the damn plan, Theon?"

The enchanter's voice became mildly apologetic. "Reinforcements should be here... right about now. But first, you might want to brace yourselves." Turning her head slightly, she glanced at Theon from the corner of her eye, a question on her lips as she saw him withdraw something from his voluminous sleeves.

But her words were stopped as she had the faintest glimpse of starry metal in his hand, and heard a deafening crack, then a thunderous roar echo through her mind. Then she could barely stand, and she could feel the Mana around her like she never had before, pressing on her from all directions, suffocating her like a crushing shroud. But even as the pressure threatened to drive her unconscious, she could feel her blood sing with power, a song more ancient and incomprehensible than even the oldest Major Spirit she had ever met. For one moment, she felt as if she were engulfed in fire, flames brighter than even the sun.

Wrapped in a maelstrom of Mana, she could barely sense a handful of others experience something similar, the other elf and feline Rakshasa among them. Then the storm ceased, and she fell.

**​

Theon winced as Brianna fell to the ground, barely conscious. "Sorry bout that Bri," he murmured. He looked around, seeing only three others in similar conditions; the remainder had simply regained their strength and vitality, as the spell was supposed to. "Only four, huh? It'll have to do." Even as he looked around, his hands were a blur of motion and Mana, wrapping the group in a stronger, more complete Glamour. To the guards around them, it would appear as if they had vanished in a great flash of light. "We need to move," he told the others. "This crowd's about to get more than it bargained for."

As he stooped to pick up and sling the half-conscious Brianna over his shoulders, an earthshaking boom rattled through the Arena--and the eastern wall simply collapsed, the bloodthirsty howl of the crowd becoming screams of panic within seconds. Even before the rubble had settled, a column of soldiers in haphazard silver and black armor appeared, charging in as best they could. At the head of the group, one soldier in a fancy helmet--Theon dimly recalled him as one Captain Ar-something-something--cried out, "The Sun sets on the Empire! Night will fa--"

A blast of emerald magic incinerated him where he stood. Theon cursed, once in the elven tongue then in the Imperial dialect, and looked back. The Emperor had risen, crown shimmering with an unearthly light. "We need to move, now!"
 
Clarissa heard the Emperor's scream, turning to see the man be completely decimated.

She saw that the guards were completely distracted. Perfect! Turning her body, she leaped into the air, throwing her leg back. It connected with the chest of a soldier, allowing her to land and spin; turning on her shoulder to smash another foot into the face of another guard. She smirked, spinning to see the guard hit the floor. Rushing from her spot, she ducked to the left as her hands were shackled behind, dodging the blade of a guard. She jumped away, flanking to the left from a fist. Crouching, she slid through the legs of another guard. When she found another guard coming toward her, she narrowed her eyes.

Jumping, she smashed both of her feet into the man's chest, landing onto his face. "Still need a sword!" she watched the crowd run. However, she had to get a good look at what helped her plan. Turning, she looked to see what it was.
 
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