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Messages - Masquerade
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« on: November 06, 2008, 05:57:45 AM »
Would just like to thank people for all the welcomes so far, and continued hospitality of the playerbase I've seen IG. :3
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« on: November 06, 2008, 04:57:18 AM »
It has been a long, strange journey so far.
After initially arriving in Port Hempstead myself and Acanthus - whom knowing on a more informal basis I now opt for this name instead of Miss Lanassori - went about the gradual process of orientating ourselves. Never have I seen such bustle and toil before within such a dense area, although such is the way of city-life I suppose.
While standing in the city square, we conversed lightly on our plans for today as I admired the raised statue in the centre of the area. In suggesting that we leave to learn the local lay of the land I agreed that a pleasent stroll to stretch the legs after so much caravan travel would do me good. Of course, this also provided more then an amply suitable opportunity to learn more of this Ilsare and get more of a sense about where Acanthus' head is at.
We were soon stumbled upon by the friendly locals though. A man named Farros presently came to introduce himself. I was taken aback by his sombre and rather eccentric clothing, but once I learned the man himself seemed rather theatrical then I could understand full-well his apparel. Allow me to elaborate: he had a certain way of speaking that seemed quite fascinating, and in unavoidably hearing somewhat of his conversation with another individual nearby (who I will later know as Idoran) I also learned that he had a great wealth of information to share. At one point he even queried as to whether or not I had considered stage-acting in my career whilst exchanging greetings and names, perish the thought of me being on stage infront of so many critics!
He was soon called away back to his business with the other person there at the time. In bidding farewells, Acanthus and I then decided to take our leave. Or rather, I should say that Acanthus rather pointedly made her impending exit known and then moved to enact it. I briefly inquired as to her abruptness but could receive no satisfying answer. I could only imagine that the confines of a human city had stifled her.
Regardless, we made our stroll out of the town and stuck to the roads. Passing through rural scenes by way of the lane we chatted off-handedly and eventually came to a rather delightful crossroads that seemed to be a waypost for travellers. Having been travelling for at least the good part of an hour, we decided to settle ourselves down whereupon our conversation turned moreover on the nature of Ilsare and what Acanthus could convey to me of it.
Sitting there with Acanthus she informed me that Ilsare's teachings bestowed a knowledge that all which could be trusted in and used to progress through the course of one's life could be found by simply delving into the heart. Upon hearing this I wished to provoke more of an understanding for myself, and so I challenged her on this and argued that the heart was fallible and sometimes untrustworthy - we have all felt things we were ashamed about, and stories of seduction and betrayal, of jealousy and inequitable violence could not happen without such flaws.
I instead tried to push for the place of the mind in the equation. She did, as I expected, try to devalue this point by saying that the mind is just as potentially fallible as the heart. She used the example of a man that 'thought' everyone was evil, and without the compassion of the heart and conscience it offers resolved to kill them remorselessly.
I accepted this, and then went on to suggest that the two working in conjunction were better then a singular after reestablishing the fact that the heart itself has flaws. Of course, where one excelled it could make up for the flaws of the other.
Making to explain Toran's own perspective I posed her a question subsequently. This fabricated man of malevolence I took and delivered to a different context. She was walking in the night, and stumbling across the murderer asleep, found him defenseless. In knowing the full ramifications of his killing sprees and that they might continue should he escape I asked her what she would have done.
At first she could not answer, but this was understandable. A few figures had passed through, including Idoran who briefly stopped by as well as Farros, a large creature I believed to be a Half-Orc, and others. I believe they mentioned something about assailing fire-steep, wherever that is, and in hindsight I think I also saw a halfling. Such a grand fellowship assailing what sounded like a volcano? Must have been an adventure indeed.
Back to the theoretical situation though. On further prodding and prying I eventually managed to get Acanthus to answer, in which she consented to the expected result of killing the man there. I was not disappointed as I think a majority of people would choose such a route - but I subsequently went and began to explain the fallacy of this option.
In killing this man so readily how better are we? We kill him because we 'think' he is evil, just as he does to our kind. This is not right. At the very least should we attempt to challenge and apprehend him without bloodshed initially. We do this because then he can be tried at law and court, to be proved of his crimes by those of more enlightened minds. After all, who are we to decide this man's fate if we have so very many options that need not end in further suffering? Furthermore the man could have been someone else that she had mistaken for the murderer in the dimness of the night, mayhaps it was that his mind was clouded in illness or curse and that prolonged examination in the grasp of the law would reveal this and allow us to redeem the person. There are a countless number of different scenarios in which we would be needlessly killing a man - or worse - an innocent. Sometimes things come to the worst and we as righteous men and women need to dole out justice there and then but the alternative should always be explored as an example to others and in support of The Great Leader's teachings.
I seemed to bewilder Acanthus at this point with all that I was ready to argue against her decision, but I think she conceeded rather gracefully. She did however note that I should not take her own personal decision into account when considering the teachings of Ilsare after that particular episode. I felt sorry for so decisively making my case in the debate but still hope I can eventually understand the goddess of my travelling companion. Evidently not this time, but perhaps another.
We decided upon returning to Port Hempstead and the following day we were out and about again. Into some sort of city authority we ran, I believe his name was Trent or something along those lines, but he asked for help in a retrieval of something he had lost. Offering to help he explained that the task might be a little dangerous and so advised us to stock up on suitable armaments and supplies.
Doing just that, I and Acanthus went shopping. This might sound like a humorous account but it was just that - I had never seen so many small people - I mean, halflings - in one place before. What's more is that they had a plethora of goods to sell us. I made the mistake of purchasing a few things that I hadn't tried on at the time that I later found was to be to my detriment as they were unreasonably small and tended to ride up a bit.
Venturing out we followed the man's directions and came across a clearing near some farms, across which was a small enclosure of hills. Such was the cloister that I first thought that it had once been a quarry where a side of the grassy knolls had been cut away in order for minerals therein to be found and processed. I quickly found out though that it looked more of a natural formation, and before its entrance a crude pallisade of sharpened sticks only raised at waist-height. I was somewhat amused at this at first, in knowing Trent had mentioned the potential of a kobold. I suppose Acanthus was in retrospect as well the way I waltzed up confidently and moved to investigate.
Perhaps it was a failing in pride, but in my defense I had truly thought there would only be a single one and that it could be coersed into giving up what we needed to retrieve by reasoning or cowing it down by beating on my shield with my sword and making a racket. Alas, if only it had been that simple.
The vicious little beasts, that of course being very pointedly a plural, had set an ambush and walking into view we were of course assailed. They struck with much greater ferocity and skill then I had imagined possible from such diminuative creatures. In seeing them beginning to overwhelm us I yelled for Acanthus to run, whilst I diverted my attention and remanoevuered over the hill in order to draw them away. I moved as best I could within my armour and sped to lead them away from my companion.
The run was rather exhilirating if a bit trying on the nerves to have so many foes at my heels. I managed to evade them however, and made my way back to the main road quickly to try and assess whether or not Acanthus was okay. Finding her promptly, she stood by a man that was looking over the carcass of a kobold he had freshly slew. This is where I met Felix, a local man of the greatest generosity so far and that I hope I can later meet again.
We made our introductions, exchanged names, and being a friendly sort he invited us back to the tavern in order to converse other news local and from where ourselves hailed. I must confess at this point I was rather glad to get a meal that was more fufilling then rations on the road (as was Acanthus I think) and so we agreed upon this. Chatting all the way back, we arrived at a tavern that I didn't catch the name of but was the most boistrous and rowdy establishment I have ever seen. I mentioned that I would have to become accustomed to the city life and he assured it wasn't so difficult. I heard many a dark fortelling from this man who potentially was more enlightened of events then Farros from the way he spoke, and a good time was had all around I'd like to think. Unfortunately I had to depart earlier then preferable but I assured him I'd return the favour at some point. Indeed, he seemed a solidly dependable and good soul.
Toran's will has taken me a long way from home. I am both excited and exhausted at all I still have yet to experience and see here, but I understand that I will have to make good on my pact with The Great Leader and begin my work soon. I will make contact with my local clergy soon and ascertain my place whilst earning my keep on the side. Whilst a little homesick for my own homeland, I think this is a defining point in my life and I cannot thank the All Watchful One enough for it.
I will strive to enact his judgement and empower the people here.
~Threas 19, Seplar of the Year 1440
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« on: November 05, 2008, 11:18:13 AM »
Praise be to Toran! I am finally out of that cattle-carriage. Whilst appreciative that the old farmhand had room for me, perhaps next time I shall think twice before accepting such an offer. It is not that his mobile hospitality wasn't amicable enough but rather the incessant clucking of fowls in the night made it particularly uncomfortable trying to rest and meditate on The Great Leader's teachings.
We stopped off at a quiet little hamlet where I bid my fond farewells to the would-be coachman. Although he hailed from the same locale as I, he was a wisened and older man that lived on the outskirts farming and so we had never met before. Alas, we shall probably never meet again, he having left to the market to sell his produce and I to await the caravans that would take me to the Port.
This place was not so much unlike my own to be truthful. It was a quiet, scenic place, where people for the most part kept to themselves. I was not bothered much for being an outsider although I do believe my standing was recognized by an old woman in passing from my ankh and colours. She seemed quite friendly, and seeing that she had a burden to manage set about helping her relocate it home.
Afterwards I returned, and thereupon the rise I saw the line of transports in tow of the breeze.
These seats are much more comfortable and spacious, the folk already aboard polite and courteous enough. In truth though I would deal with friend-or-fowl and endure in order to see Toran's will done - and I suppose from some stories I've heard that this trip has been relatively easy. I have been assured it won't be too much further until my destination.
Most importantly I have encountered a woman I know as Acanthus Lanassori, who is an Elf, or rather a Sun Elf as she was quick to correct me. She seems like a reasonable individual and is heading in the same direction as I, just as new to the region. Knowing this I proposed that we travelled together to save on expenses. She accepted, although begrudgingly I think.
I'm not sure what to make of Miss Lanassori really. Quite curt and aloof, she makes at times for a rather abrasive conversationalist. Yet once one passes that she is a lot more friendly and generally sociable. She also seems to have a good head for things, if still straying somewhat in opinion on some matters with me. I believe this does however stem from her goddess of choosing, Ilsare. The learning I have been subjected to has not informed me a lot about her but I know enough to understand she is no threat. Mayhaps she can enlighten me when the topic next arises.
~ Sunra 8th, Seplar of the Year 1440
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« on: November 05, 2008, 10:57:00 AM »
In departing from my hometown I feel a sense of loss despite the excitement. I know deep down however that this is the best, and my newfound duties as a servant of The Great Leader demand it of me. I make my way by caravan as I write this - perhaps notable from the shoddy handwriting (but at least the previous entry is neat) - and hope to make an exchange into another host of travellers tomorrow that are bound for Port Hempstead.
Having already exhausted all available conversational topics with the driver of my wagon, and having nothing in particular to casually relate to the chicken coops beside me I took to re-polishing my armour. This however was only a worthwhile distraction 'till my hands become sore and thoroughly calloused. So instead, I let my thoughts fall on the All Watchful One's teachings and a few things from my mentors back home. I'll write them here so I never lose them.
~---~
~Blessed be the martyrs of Toran's cause. They who are willing to die in his name are neither afraid to live by his ideals in the light.
~Obey the laws of the land so far as they are just. If they are neither fair nor equitable, then one must overcome it in the pursuit of greater good should it prove too difficult to root out the corruption behind it - paths over then violence must be considered though, as a victory by trouncing deceit with truth of word is a righteous one indeed.
~Never lose heart you of great and noble deed / For although your heart is not made of gold / Its alloy is strong- Something unidentifiable, / Fierce like the lion, strong, precious and old.
And like a raw and uncut precious stone / Shining with untold possibilities and hope / Your heart casts forth in faith a promise / Helping the hopeless live, dream and cope
~The enfeebled, the young and the frail are the greatest of us all. It is they that we can bestow our kindness and protection upon - and make them vessels of The Great Leader in so doing - and tempered with these things, just as the potential of steel surfaces with heat, so shall their own be known to all around.
~Covet not those whom you encounter. Stay true in the course of your duties, and your reward in the end will neither be transient nor lesser then all those that have come before to others.
~Even to our adversaries must we first extend mercy however slim the chances might be that they accept it. Before combat, parley and attempt to dissuade them from their actions - before enacting retribution in killing the most remorseless criminals, offer salvation - for the power of a kind and perhaps unwarranted gesture of forgiveness can be powerful indeed; the redemption of any number of the malevolent will forever be a more glorious victory then any amount that could be executed.
~Sometimes the forces of evil and chaos can seem overwhelming, but you must always remember that Toran has provided all the armaments you require to face them. Let faith be your shield, truth be your sword and the tenants of The Great Leader your guiding light.
~ Satari 7th, Seplar of the Year 1440
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« on: December 13, 2008, 05:39:26 PM »
Not all adventurers are born heroes. Very few as well, live long enough to attain the title or even to see an age of retirement. Whether their deeds are benevolent or to the ends of darker powers, they share one thing in common – it is that they originate from all walks of life and each hold their own reasons for the profession.
Artemis Morrowfield is one such adventurer. He is neither especially talented nor gifted in any field of discipline, but still yet roams the land in search of adversity. An able-bodied and bright lad he is capable of holding his own, but the decision was never really his to make in the first place, and took to the road by a sense of necessity.
It is the story behind how we now witness Artemis, awakening from his troubled slumber for the second time in this very night. Emerging from his shakily erected tent, he moves to rest upon the stump beside the smouldering remains of his campfire long since burnt out, smothered by the cold floes of the ebon night.
This place is a grassy knoll set in the vicinity of Port Hempstead that he overlooks from his seat. He watches the sealed gates, the glinting eyes of the lamps, and relative serenity that has settled in this hour of twilight. His thoughts wander a time to warm beds and warmer meals; he is not much of a woodsman and so his comfort in the wild is limited but the four gold coins to his name restrict him from the luxury of civilization.
Instead he takes his flask, a couple of wine bottles and the like down to a stream. He fills them there, a heavy burden of guilt on his visage that is reflected in the looking-glass of the clear waters. It is no guilt from an act inflicted upon any other. Rather it is a loathing of the self and what he had become since his leave from the Silkwood logging camp.
An observer might attribute this to his personal wealth or that of a drinking vice by the stash of the bottles. Many that know him, too, would probably do likewise. One would actually find that both are the result of his antic disposition, a certain act that he maintains in intent to mislead, but for no malicious purpose.
He decided he doesn’t even really find a fondness for alcohol innately due to the taste.
In truth he is beset on all sides by questions of mortality and the possible consequences of his actions – what could or would have been – and it is this struggle betwixt his inner thoughts and the world around him that paralyzes him so. To mask this and anyone that might interfere with his own private dominion in civil turmoil, he throws upon a shroud of naivety and stupor.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
It was not always this way, of course.
When he was only a little younger he set off from his home at the border of Silkwood. Bright-eyed and full of intent, full of enthusiasm was the boy that intrepidly ventured. In that day he even wielded his greatsword at every opportunity, eager to test his mettle against duelists on the road and whatever task he might be commissioned for. He had no problem slaughtering vermin, clearing out rats from cellars and the occasional starving wolf preying on farmer’s livestock. It was when the blood on his sword began to stain his hands red from humanity that realization came.
It was the tragic incident on the border of a small hamlet. There his hand was forced, and he was required to cut down a brigand whom was accosting a woman. It had been an immediate reaction for him, to bring his blade round, down, sharp and clean through the man’s torso. Like a dog or other vermin that came before he slaughtered him without forethought or so much as a moment’s consideration.
There was so much blood. Much more then Artemis had ever been able to conceive might’ve been contained therein the mortal shell. As a sheltered youth he was far from prepared for what he would experience. It was there, splattered across his chest and smearing the line of his sword, even an angry zigzag of it thrown across his face from what he could make out in the reflection of the blade. The vagabond had fallen whilst grasping at the woman for support, unable to cry through the chokes of crimson steadily rising in his throat. The woman present however, just screamed and it resonated through Artemis like a mournful dirge over, and over and over again.
He had acted appropriate after evaluating the situation. Little trouble was certain to be had from the local law, even. Yet it was that the boy could not fathom his taking of another man’s life and the ramifications of it all. The woman stole away as soon as she was able, and unthinking and unknowing of what to do; Artemis also fled the scene with her affrighted shrieks in his ears.
The sword, smote in the very essence of life from the man slain, smouldered in the corners of thought as it was forgotten for a time.
Now he does not use his sword much anymore save for in his private rituals of training, though it is his only real specialty and subsequent claim to strength on the forefront of battle. He lives each day as he can, salvaging enough to survive by whatever means, masking his thoughts and feelings 'till the day he can solve their betrayal or be rid of them completely. Then, but only then, will he require but a single reason to take up his sword and start on that journey to heroism again.
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« on: November 05, 2008, 10:47:11 AM »
I, Jayse La'Espada, hereby create this log for the purposes of recording notes and future referencing in my travels. It stands as a testament to the deeds I commit and those of others. This journal should be acknowledged as truth - at least as seen from my fallible perspective - may it always remind me of my duty, grant me wisdom in hindsight, and serve others if in the eventuality I fall in the course of enacting Toran's will.
~ Satari 7th, Seplar of the Year 1440
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« on: November 04, 2008, 03:47:17 PM »
Hey, folks. :3 I'm Masquerade (not stemming from Vampire: The Masquerade, the song from the box-office hit Phantom of the Opera, or the arist formerly known as Masquerade but rather a random word I flicked to in the dictionary!), long-time avid roleplayer and enthusiast of anything containing 'RPG' in it - including but not limited to: RPG Games (Well, of course!) MMORPG Games (WoW addict!) Rocket Propelled Grenades (Sometimes I like a lil' FPS on the side!) Among other things. ~---~Let us not go there though, and instead get down to the meat and potatoes. I'm a British born student, that despite being thrice-cursed with inane verbosity found and formed a bond of luuurrve with one Christine Adams, otherwise known as Interia Discordius here. We've been together for a while now and after taking a break from the game, returned to the server we met on, but things weren't quite the same at the ol' place. So assuring me of this server's quality reputation, she enticed me in this direction and so here I am. I hope to get my Pally approved and get to roleplaying with you all in the near-future. If you guys end up liking me, hit me up maybe on zee address provided below. But yes - Heeelloooo Layonarans! (Layonarians? Layonaraxi? :X ) <3 Stygian_Heart@hotmail.co.uk
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