ROLEPLAY - Ryzom Community Forum

Chroniques de la Première Croisade

Belenor — Fri, 23 Oct 2020 16:56:16 +0000

Notes de l’auteur

Bonjour cher lectorat. Je suis Bélénor Nébius, Fyros de sève, auteur des Chroniques de la Première Croisade, scribe des Disciples du Culte Noir de Ma-Duk et indéfectible ami de Pü Fu-Tao. Avec ce huitième chapitre se termine la première époque de notre histoire. Ouverte alors que Pü n’est âgé que de quelques mois, elle se clôt par l’événement cataclysmique qui ravagea les Anciennes Terres en l’an 2481 de Jena, et qui sera plus tard connu sous le nom de Grand Essaim. Je dus attendre bien des années avant que Pü ose me parler de son enfance. Comme vous pouvez vous en douter, cette période ravivait en lui de douloureux souvenirs. D’ailleurs, si je parvins au cours de nos discussions à deviner de joyeux et tendres moments passés, les événements violents restaient ceux dont il parlait avec le plus de précision, d’où la sombre atmosphère qui se dégage de ces premiers chapitres.

L’époque suivante contera le voyage, tout aussi ténébreux, du Masque Noir, ses rencontres avec ceux qui deviendront ses alliés ou ses ennemis, et in fine, la nôtre. Jamais je n’oublierai ce moment, qui me transforma de manière irréversible. À ce stade de votre lecture, Pü est à la recherche d’un Fyros et d’une Matisse. Les plus érudits d’entre vous auront relevé les noms de Damakian, Rory, et même celui de Kalbatcha. Si ces noms ne n’évoquent probablement rien à la plupart d’entre vous, leur énoncé a pu plonger certains dans la perplexité. Que ces derniers sachent que je comprends parfaitement leur ressenti. Il fut le mien lorsque, déjà âgé et finalement parvenu sur les Nouvelles Terres, je rencontrai par hasard certains de ces homins, qui en de nombreux points, me rappelaient le groupe que Pü, moi et tant d’autres avions formé autrefois. Des homins que nous n’avions jamais rencontrés, et dont les noms nous avaient pourtant été révélés, bien avant leur naissance. Était-ce le fruit du hasard, une cruelle plaisanterie, où l’incarnation même du destin ? Encore aujourd’hui, alors que j’écris ces quelques mots, je ne saurais le dire. Mais comme vous le verrez plus tard, cette étrangeté n’est que l’une de celles, nombreuses, qui ponctuèrent notre croisade, et qui de tant de manières différentes, unissent notre passé à votre présent. Ma-Duk veille derrière chaque fragment de matière d’Atys, et par-delà l’espace et le temps, tisse entre eux la toile de son Grand Œuvre.

Remerciements (non diégétiques)
Merci à Lai, qui comme Looï donna naissance à Pü, est celle qui permit à mes idées d’éclore. Merci à Namcha, Atys, Dieu, la Loi, celui qui régit ce qui est possible ou non, celui qui m’a permis d’ancrer cette histoire dans la réalité de Ryzom. Merci à Nilstilar, qui en sublimant la Forme, m’a aidé à transcender le Fond, et qui comme Sirgio di Rolo et Pü, voit malgré lui son âme se lier à celle de l’auteur. Merci bien sûr à tous ceux qui, d’une manière où d’une autre, m’ont apporté conseils et connaissances.

Passé douloureux

Siela — Sun, 11 Oct 2020 02:04:09 +0000

Ces derniers temps Siela passait beaucoup de temps à voyager, loin de toute civilisation et il perdait souvent la notion du temps, mais il était bien connecté avec Atys et la nature au moins. Bien qu'il n'était pas trop conscient du temps qui passait, il sentait que c'était le jour...
C'est pourquoi il était déjà entrain de méditer quand le rêve arrivait. Souriant il regardait ses trois homins adorés. Ca lui faisait du bien, de les revoir, aussi clair que la dernière fois, au milieu de ces longs voyages.

[HRP]Le rêve précedant[/HRP]

Canillia Altae Di Sylengi homine aux doigts agiles

Canillia — Fri, 09 Oct 2020 11:46:27 +0000

[FR]
un nouveau message est arrivé pour proposer une nouvelle épreuve.
Cette fois ils attendent qu'elle collecte des matériaux précieux.
Hormis le danger inhérent à ce type de chasse, il reste que détourner une telle quantité de Champignon est une forme de traitrise envers l'Ordre.

Cela la dérange...

Si s'accorder une saison de vacances au soleil passe encore.
Offrir à des inconnus aux intentions incertaines, de quoi assembler des parures de guerre: est une autre affaire.

Elle doit prendre des précautions et essayer de se prémunir des vilaines surprises...

La revanche des Antekami Kaze/ Revenge of the Antekami Kaze

Giasuki — Wed, 23 Sep 2020 22:22:34 +0000

The darkness prevented the dynastic guards from well distinguishing what was happening. Despite the lights that illuminated the city, they didn't see further than the end of their masks at the exterior of the enclosure of Min-Cho. An abnormal din was approaching. Gia'suki was running towards the south entrance with a group of kinchers at her tail. She was ready to risk everything. She charged on Gei Be-Pian, the guard that was standing in the middle of the entrance, roaring like a vorax. The guards went into formation to block the access to the city and discovered in horror that she brought with her very unpleasant company. She lifted her enormous mace and threw it towards her opponent, who rotated to dodge it. Once the passage opened, she hid behind the buildings, safe from the reinforcements that ran to aid their fellows.The antekami cowered at the last place the guards would search her : behind a tran right beside the Kami altar. She lingered in the shadows, hidden by the long grass during multiple hours, while the situation was calming down a bit. She started advancing to the prison but stopped when two Kwaïs materialised in front of her. Decidedly the tide was turning in her favor for once. She grabbed the male and put a dagger at his throat. The woman that accompanied him recognized her immediately.

-Gia'suki, what are you doing?!
-Shh ba'kwai, if you make any noise, I will bleed your friend like a bodoc. You know that I will do it.
-I'm not a bodoc! I'm a timari! And what game are you playing?! asked the homin.
-That's it my izam, it's a game and the best one, because everyone can win.-Gia'suki, let Hiro leave, kai'bini.
-Of course Lai'Suki, as long as you let the Antekamis that are imprisoned leave. That seems fair to me, no?
-No way!
-Are you sure?

With these words, the large zoraï let her blade slightly slide along the throat of the homin who, petrified, didn't even dare to resist and who could barely move anyway under the impressive grip of his kidnapper. A cut, not deep for now, appeared on the blue skin of Hiro. The sap already started to drip down on his naked chest.

-Stop it, kai'bini...
-Stop whining! You know what you have to do!-How do you want me to do such a thing?!
-You are an Initiate of those stupid theocrats, baka. If you ask to enter the prison to, I don't know, accompany a prisoner on the way to the eternal bliss of Ma'Duk, they will undoubtedly let you pass. Tell them what you want. Get at least one to leave, to take some fresh air. And if the guards get worked up I will cut them into stewing cubes.
-Whatever... I will help you, but let me do it my way, otherwise it will only attract attention and we won't be able to leave the city afterwards. We have to silently neutralize the guards at the entrance of the prison. Lai'suki left the shadows and threw a sleep spell at the first guard. When the second one turned around to see what was happening, she hit him in the belly with the pommel of her axe. His breath taken away, he bent in half and she tied him up with strings made from dorao and gagged him with a piece of buo fiber. She repeated the process with the second guard before he regained conscience and moved the bodies into the shadows. She searched the two Zoraïs and took their keys.

-Oh Lai' conked the guards, that's not wise... murmured Hiro, aghast.
-Right? Here, I have something for you my izam. Gia'suki cracked an unhealthy smile on her mask.

After some long minutes of silence, Lai'suki came back out with a meager homin, who was barely able to stay on his feet and walk. She carried him and led him to the Kami altar. Gia'suki got carried away and released her prisoner.

-Dounlor, what have they done to you?! Oh these bastards, they let you die of hunger these dirtbags!

The homin didn't answer, he was too weak and confused to realize what was happening. Gia'suki took him into her arms, he weighed almost nothing anymore. Lai'suki took Hiro by the hand and decided that it was time to slip away.

-One moment. You didn't think to give me the slip now that i need you more than ever, Initiate.
-I did what you asked me, find a way to get out on your own and I strongly advise you against trying to raise your hand against Hiro a second time.
-Yui, I suspected that you would react like that... that's why I poisoned your strange Izam! smiled the Antekami.
-You have done... what?! muttered Lai'suki, furious.-Oh yui, poor poko. I will tell you how to heal him, but we don't have much time, I promise you. Look at him. Oh dear, he isn't nice to look at, taunted the enormous homina.
-So what do we do! We won't go through the main entrance in front of everybody!
-Go through the main entrance... yui, that's exactly what we're gonna do. We will leave the Izam here, we don't need him for now. I will create a diversion at the south entrance and you will leave through the north one. Leave on the back of a mektoub and if the guards question you, you will be able to just run away and shake those morons off.
-I could also count on the dynastic healers for the health of Hiro.
-That would be undoubtedly true but by the time they study his case, he would have the time to die three times, will you take that risk? The time flies, Lai'suki.

The homina looked at Hiro and resigned to fetching a mount. She helped the Antekami to put Dounlor on the mektoub and advanced calmly. When the guards intercepted them, she charged directly and heard the guards shout behind her and take on her pursuit. Sadly for them, she advanced too fast and they soon lost her trace. Lai'suki rode to the Grove of Umbra, where she found Gia'suki. The homina was in a rough shape, blood streamed down her mask, following the cracks left by the mutilations she inflicted on it. She grabbed Dounlor and made him fall from the mektoub like a rag doll. The homin growled in protest.

-Doun, we succeeded, do you hear me? You are free!
-Gia'suki, we have a deal, tell me how I can heal Hiro.
-With some water and rest. Make sure that he always lies on his side, in case he would start to vomit. Lai'suki displayed a disbelieving mask.
-Oh yui, I lied to you actually, I didn't poison the izam, I just gave him a good quantity of fu-shia rhizome to nibble. By now he must be completely stoned and in the grip of severe hallucinations. But don't worry, he won't die, the kamis use this stuff on us during the adoption ceremony. Which means that it's his second time, he will survive. Then again, it's better if he gets supervised, he could try weird stu...Lai'suki threw her fist right into the mask of the goo zoraï. She took the bridle of her mount and left in silence. Gia'suki started laughing and yelled:

-Dafanshi! Get over here! Dounlor is back, we will party tonight! And bring some food, he's thin like a blade of grass, it's a scandal. Gia'suki looked at Dounlor who observed her without saying a word since his arrival.
-It will be ok, we will put you back on your feet, I promise you. And then we will burn everything, to restart from zero.

[HRP]

Tran: totem
Ba'kwai: Mix of the words baka (idiot) and kwai (kamist zorai). It's an insult used by the Antekamis against the Theocracy.
Kai'bini: please
Yui: Yes
Poko: child

Fragments

Salazar — Sat, 05 Sep 2020 17:21:14 +0000

Salazar carefully tested the function of his extremities when he rose from his bed for the first time after his long illness. Leaning on his servant boy, still trembling all over, he walked cautiously, swaying like a toddler or a drunk, through his apartment. The dressing gown he was wearing shook around his already slim figure, which was even more emaciated from his suffering. When he finally sank into the chair at his desk with a sigh, the flowing fabric spread out at his feet like a frozen waterfall, gently shimmering in the light of the setting sun.

"Can I bring you something, sir?" asked the boy, his features marked with worry. "You really shouldn't ..."

Salazar waved his hand with a smile. "Bring me a cup of red wine mixed with egg yolk; it should be a tonic that is at least as good as this quack's medicine. And then see what notices, newspapers, rumors you can find. In the meantime, I'll take care of everything that has accumulated here ..." His gaze touched the pile of parchments on the desk. Utran's notice must also be there somewhere, and he wanted to devote himself to his report and sketches about Muang first.

Almost shyly, the boy bowed, a slight blush on his cheeks. He reminded Salazar how he was at the same age. His eyes followed the young Matis as the latter - seized with serious eagerness - left the apartment. Again a slight smile crept on Salazar's lips. Then he turned to the desk for good and began to study the papers that had piled up on it.

(OOC: Hooray, computer was running again! Originally published January 9th, 2007)

Recueil de poésie matis

Lylanea — Mon, 31 Aug 2020 18:41:42 +0000

Matis, hier ein Gebet, dass dereinst über meine Lippen kam, als ich im Kampf gegen die Kitin schwer verletzt ins Grass unserer Heimat sank.
Die Wunden waren schwer und niemand erreichte mich, um mir mit heilender Magie aufzuhelfen.
In diesen Minuten die ich dort lag und der Lebenssaft meinen Körper verließ, überkam mich der Gedanke an Jena und schenkte mit Frieden.
Gleichwohl ich nicht mehr so inbrünstig bete, so will ich doch den Gläubigen unter euch diese Worte mit auf den Weg geben.
Auf das sie euch ebenfalls Frieden schenken werden, wenn eure Seele danach verlangt.

Lylanea Vicciona, Ranger
Bardin der Vier Länder

_____________________________________________________________

Diemate a Jena

Vae Jena, orenates na diemate.
Ne mindaleis i Limae. Ne mindaleis Atys.
Ne mindaleis i Limae. Ne mindaleis i Lum.

Vae Jena, havanates na Ende,
Ma ne areiti a matale ten Lya manyore.

Vae Jena, havanates na Lotelum,
Ma ne calyeiti ten Lya maidira.

Vae Jena, havanates na Loide,
Se decateis, se firheis ten Lya mindale.

Vae Jena, ne samates, lae diemae nidranae,
E ne polias a nata melameis necapa Lya Limae.

Ilya na silam ende,
Vae, ne mindaleis le.

Jena aiye
_____________________________________________________________

Prayer to Jena

Goddess Jena, hear my prayer.
I love the light. I love Atys.
I love the light. I love Life.

Goddess Jena, heal my heart,
That I lost in battle in Your Honor.

Goddess Jena, heal my soul,
Which I gave up for Your Purity.

Goddess Jena, heal my body,
It suffers, it dies, for Your Love.

Goddess Jena, renew me, Your loyal servant
That I may once again serve You.

With my heart full of joy.
Goddess of Light, I love You.

Praise be unto You, Jena
_____________________________________________________________

Prière à Jena

Déesse Jena, entends ma prière.
J'aime la Lumière. J'aime Atys.
J'aime la Lumière. J'aime la Vie.

Déesse Jena, guéris mon cœur,
Que j'ai perdu au combat en Ton Honneur.

Déesse Jena, guéris ma graine de vie,
Que j'ai abandonnée pour Ta Pureté.

Déesse Jena, guéris mon corps,
Il souffre, il meurt, pour Ton Amour.

Déesse Jena, soigne-moi, Ta fidèle enfant,
Et je pourrai à nouveau marcher sous Ta Lumière.

Avec mon cœur joyeux,
Déesse, je T'aime.

Louanges à Toi, Jena
_____________________________________________________________

Göttin Jena, erhöre mein Gebet
Ich liebe das Licht. Ich liebe Atys
Ich liebe das Licht. Ich liebe das Leben

Göttin Jena, heile mein Herz
Das ich verlor im Kampf zu Deinen Ehren
Göttin Jena, heile mein Seele
Die ich gab hin für deine Reinheit

Göttin Jena, heile meinen Körper
Er leidet, er stirbt, für Deine Liebe
Göttin Jena, erneuere mich, deinen loyalen Diener
Auf das ich Dir erneut mit dienen kann
Mit meinem Herz voller Freude

Göttin des Lichtes, ich liebe Dich
Lob sei Dir, Jena

Report to the Zorai assembly, Dua, Pluvia 08, 4 AZ 2609

Elke — Sat, 29 Aug 2020 07:21:31 +0000

This is a mixture of a transcript and a report of and from the assembly in Zora which took place Dua, Pluvia 08, 4 AZ 2609 (OOC: 28 August 19 UTC).

Great Mask, revered embassadors, dear citizens,

it's a great honour to be at this meeting and I shall be delighted to be of help in improving our understanding of the events in the Nexus.

In long weeks I was able to create a map of the Nexus which indicates some of the changes which I happily give to you in order to help my home country the Zorai, to assess the impact of and possible threats from these changes.

One of the most interesting features after the Barkquake was that new ressource spots started to appear, which have affiliation with different continents of Atys. Though possible to locate many (all?) of the new, excellent ressource spots, so far I have been able to take samples from many, but not from each. Yet this map might make it easier to locate them.

Mind that they are commonly guarded by a more vigilant and stronger type of Gibbai who dwell near the ressource spots. They also feature particularily nice jewelry which might be related to their occupation of these exceptional ressource spots. For their additional protection they seem to keep a group of equally exceptionally strong Cuttlers nearby which are also a threat, even to experienced fighters. Whether and if so how they are related to the Gibbads (in the Void) is unclear.

Thank you.

A New Leaf

Rashan — Sat, 15 Aug 2020 13:23:12 +0000

Shaking a few grains of sand from his worn Kostomyx boots, Rashan noted, not for the first time, how this fine Lakelands silt differed from the coarse, sun beat grains of his native lands in the Burning Desert. Likening the grit to the countless islands and even the local populace, he chuckled to himself. Small and annoying. But now it was time to adopt a more Tolerant outlook and report back to the Corporal in the Fairhaven bar. At least they got that right, he smiled. Strolling along the scrubbed decking, he recalled just how he got to this place...

* * *

Things had not ended too badly after the embezzlement, sure a few bridges (and districts in Pyr) were burned, but all was restored and Rashan suspected that some saw the financial loss as a small price to pay to be rid of him. The funds had been sufficient for a start and had even survived the 2nd Great Swarming, but after so much time living a comfortable life in exile the sack of dappers had been reduced to a small pouch.

It was time to go back to work and that meant returning to the New Lands. The word ‘work’ held a different meaning for Rashan - his mind worked day and night, trying to work all the angles but none of his schemes seemed like they would work. Just as he was considering becoming a common criminal and joining the Marauders he saw something that set off a ding in his head.

At the portal to the New Lands, a thankful Matisian in patchwork clothes was handing a sizeable bundle of choice materials to the Ranger guard.

“Ser Ranger, please, take this as a token of my everlasting gratitude. I'll soon return to the lands of opportunity and my noble family where such a sum is a mere trifle.”
“Tinnaco-kin, your generosity will benefit many others. I will send this to the vault so that it may be distributed to displaced homins,” the ranger replied benevolently.
“Farewell and keep up the good work!”

“About that good work, where do I sign up?”

Details of the process were scant but after an interview with Orphie Dradius, Rashan was strongly encouraged to visit each nation in turn and truly learn the meaning of Service. After a quick visit to the vault and with a spring in his step, he stepped through the portal and into a new life of enrichment.

* * *

Snapping back to the present and the Fairhaven bar, Rashan handed in his latest kitin scouting report to the beaming Corporal.

“Thank you nair-Rashan, you’ve done so much and I’m pleased to give a glowing report of your contributions to the Taliari.”

With this commendation and the sheaf of others from each of the nations, the first stage of the process was complete and Rashan proudly strode off with a tear in his eye. Stupid fine sand.

apprentie bijoutière

Thalys — Wed, 05 Aug 2020 09:22:35 +0000

Tiens bon la barre et tiens bon le vent...
Tu perds pas la main Zend...Aiyae !

Thal :)

Technically all the NPCs are dead.

Suboxide — Mon, 03 Aug 2020 09:14:58 +0000

What about the towns/cities/higher powers abduct poor lost homins trying to get to the new lands (some call them marauders) in the prime roots brainwash them and make them forget everything and then put them in the spot of an aging npc.

That aging npc gets just discarded by them (most likely fed to kittin in prime roots). < keeps the kittins in check and gives them a taste of homin flesh

All the rest is some pink mist you somethimes see hanging in towns that is used to brainwash the ones entering so they do not notice stable boy that was old yesterday is not old today.

* And actually where we not all reborn during the merge? I forgot the whole lore they tried to spin there to save some pennies and kind off kill ryzom for so many ppl who never returned

fatigué de courir

Otall — Sat, 11 Jul 2020 16:02:13 +0000

[FR]
un Tryker s'approche timidement du panneau d'affichage de Faihaven.
Il est très grand pour un tryker, les muscles de ses bras et de ses jambes saillent. Son crane rasé lui donne une allure menaçante qui ne colle pas avec la douceur de son regard.
Ses gestes maladroits, sont emprunt d'une grande prudence: comme s'il avait peur de casser quelque chose...
Il commence à déchiffrer avec difficulté les lettres écrites sur les différents papiers épingler...

...un peut découragé de ne rien trouver il s’assoie sur le ponton. Il lève les yeux résigner, quand il aperçois un vieux bout de vélin qui ne tient plus que par une épine d'Arma.

Il se lève, attrape l'affiche et recommence son laborieux travail de déchiffrage du texte.

l'homin sourit: "Okal ça F'ra la'faire si L'Nair a An trouvé Quequn D'ja!"

O'Tall attrape un bout de papier sur le panneau et commence à rédiger en tirant la langue avec application.

Tor L'Nair AnBassadeur

Y Syln O'Tall Al Y ai 20 printemps.

Y Syln Fort, honnête Al Bosseur.
Y Syln certain Ken Sul Syln contant de Y si Sul m'emboche!

Y étais équarrisseur avant.
Eny, L'chef i m'aimait An ...
Alors il m'a frappé...
Eny Y aime An quand leZomains ils Crient...
Y l'ai poussé un peut pour qu'il arrête Al il a arrêté...

Eny Y cherche un New boulot.
Alors, Si Sul Syln Gentil Y syln prêt à travailler dur Al a Sul obéir TollDoy.
Y An sais où est Yrkanis Eny si Sul m'explique Y trouv'rais Lor.

Al Pis ça Menlevrait une sacré épine D'mon Pied Si sul M'emboches.

Al'or:

Très très, respectueusement Nair Ac'epte La Certitude Du plus Tall Respect de Y Tor Sul.

PS:

Y attendrais sur les Pontons d'Fairhaven, Si Sul M'cherches.

O'Tall

l'homin attrape un Pauvre izam qui passait par là ...
Enroule son message avec ses gros doigts et lance le volatil en l'air en criant :

"Sadeur FLEUR D'TUBER YRKANIS!!!"

Reinforced Vigilance plan

Ghost Of Atys — Sat, 27 Jun 2020 09:31:31 +0000

Miaccia Chiazzo, Captain of the Yrkanis Guard, Commander of the Royal Guards was waving an already crumpled missive under Antoero Antorini's nose. The displeasure that darkened her face was so obvious that the guard avoided staring at her.
- There's nothing more you can tell me? You didn't even pay attention to the guards around you? The passers-by?
- The situation seemed to be under control, Serae.
- And now this traitor, if he exists, will be on guard. And I'll have to explain myself to Karan.
The Captain started circling the guard, thinking aloud: I have to protect the Subjects, it's my first duty, then I'll find this traitor, no one's going to make me look incompetent...

She ends up standing in front of the guard to ruthlessly confront him:
- Very good. For the time being, you're assigned to this investigation. Write down anything suspicious during your shifts. I will propose a security plan to the Karan. Dismissed!

Reinforced Vigilance Plan addressed to Karan

Na-Karan,

Odious marauders have recently annoyed Your Subjects and spread gossip about the probity of the guards You've put me in charge of.
I have, of course, already initiated an internal investigation, but I do not expect it to be concluded quickly. However, the protection of your Subjects cannot and must not wait. Therefore, I have also implemented without delay a Reinforced Vigilance plan to which all Subjects can now directly appeal.
Thus, at the slightest report, the guards will be mobilized and any potential enemy* will be attacked on sight.
During the next Assembly of Nobles that Your Majesty will no doubt want to organize to take advice on this matter, I will detail the initial results of the plan put in place so that Your Majesty can decide whether or not it should be continued or even perpetuated.

I remain, Your Majesty, your most loyal Subject.

Miaccia Chiazzo
Captain of the Yrkanis Guard
Commander of the Royal Guards

[HRP] * Any person whose reputation among matis is less than - 40.

The full Reinforced Vigilance Plan feature is available. [/HRP]

The story of a lonely craftsman

Humboldt — Sat, 23 May 2020 16:25:31 +0000

Part 6

Slowly I woke up and looked around half-blinking with one eye. The bright light blinded me. "Stupid fool..." I groaned and tried to orientate myself. Suddenly I felt something moist and paste-like on my head and a dull stench was hiding my nose. Electrifying, I jumped up and switched to escape mode with a mixed feeling of nausea and disgust. Unable to control my muscles, a fountain of my innards in rainbow colours poured out of me, funny enough at that moment reminding me of a waterfall. Dazed, I looked back and recognized Rudolph and swung myself in his direction.

As I thought so, shreds of my memory came to the surface... Yesterday I gave myself a good edge; the stable boy must have filled me up. There were hominas dancing... I sat down and looked in my bag. Lor. My hoe's still there, but what is that? It's a letter. I opened it and read it:

Strange Letter
Lordoy Amna!

The night was amazing... even if you fell asleep just before the end, you're forgiven. You were just sooo sweet. You told me the whole story about the Matisse, and I thought it was cute... Such a twee tryker, I thought to myself, should be helped. I've had enough of Dapper, so I thought I'd help you out and thank you for the night as well. It was a lot of fun. If we meet again, we should do it again!

By the way, the jewelry set and the heavy armor are enchanted and increase your life. Not that you die on the journey, my little sweet servant.

Sulem Limni

I don't remember a thing and maybe it's better that way, but the 100,000 dappers and the magic equipment will help. Let's hope I never have to see her again, and if I do, please don't let her be ugly...

on the beach at a mournful night

Elke — Wed, 13 May 2020 09:25:32 +0000

It was one of those day. It had been passing much too fast. Much too badly. Taking a walk on the beach to get a clear head again, mourning who fell in the battle that day, mourning what was lost, pondering what had passed, wondering what will happen...

Heareth you, my friend,
the violin at the beach?
Whisling from ye ot'er side
a chello chimes there in,
whisphering above the waves
which softly brush the sandy beach.
All the while, wind caresses you,
dreaming the future yet to come.

To Jorgensen and Alassea

L'étude des symboles ou la symbologie.

Ghost Of Atys — Sun, 03 May 2020 10:10:59 +0000

The disciple archivist Pyphollo Zeps received the third volume of the study of symbology by the akenak Azazor with a smile.

“What a prolific researcher” he thought as he watched akenak Azazor slip away from his martial step. “When he has a goal, he really goes for it with all his heart!”

Without further ado, he isolated himself in his favourite corner of the Academy at the end of the upper floor to dive into reading without being disturbed.

He read the whole thing in one go and was a little stunned. All these interlinked theories made him dizzy! From simple symbols, Azazor was eventually speculating on… all fields! Pyphollo identified a thorny problem: how should he classify this? Societies and cultures? History? Xylology? Kamic mysticism? Quest for the Dragon?

“What a mess!” he moaned disheveling his mop. He struggled to his feet and headed for the office of his superior, Chancellor Euphanyx Apotheps, who still held the Chair of History while awaiting a new appointment. The latter agreed to take a look at the essay of akenak Azazor, no doubt having in mind his previous historical works through the Fyros tribes and the streets of Pyr.

– He's right, she said after a moment, the triangle with a dot is a fundamental fyros symbol.
– ney talumetimakos?
– ney, that's a way of representing the four pillars.
– The four? With a… triangle?
– Honour, Discipline and Justice for the points, and for the dot in the central square, Truth!
– Oh… subtle!
– Isn't it?
– But then does it have something to do with this observable magic glyph? Is really this… “Symbology” a seam of Truth?
– Now, that wouldn't be safe to say, in my opinion. We need the advice of experts in the various fields of study being discussed. Check whether the conclusions echo their own knowledge.
– Of course, I see.
– You're in charge, talumetimetos! Here: I draw up a list of Masters for you to visit, bearing my seal. First you'll go to Daeronn Cegrips, Grand Master of the Chair of Knowledge.
– akep talumetimakos!

So Pyphollo walked out of the office with a cheerful step, leaving Euphanix to her duties. Although… No sooner had he left the room than he saw her putting a rimmelyx on her desk to clean it up… “Damn Euphanix!” he thought, “The years and responsibilities do not alter her impetuosity!”

Huge stroke of luck, Grand Master Daeronn was there! He handed him the three heavy varynx leather bound volumes and the invitation to read them, stamped with the seal of the Chancellor, to ask for an evaluation of the knowledge they might contain.

The old entomologist grunted and squealed as he noisily handled the scrolls. Pyphollo was fascinated by the dance of his eyebrows. Sometimes one would stand up and then the other would do the same, or they would come together in a single bar, his forehead all wrinkled and his nose stuck to the leather, or they would stand up at once, eyes wide open, arms outstretched and head back. And with his mouth he made so many faces that the disciple had the impression of contemplating a frahar absorbed in the analysis of an artifact just fallen from the Canopy.

He was in the third volume when he cried out: “Haaa! Hey-ho! Aw, hell no! dey! dey! dey!”
Wham! He unloaded all the bindings into the arms of the astounded disciple, who almost toppled on his bottom.
– Master Daeronn! What's wrong!?
– That needs a bit of discipline though! Discipline! What's such a way of interpreting, of picking here and there what one wants? he exclaimed, making grand gestures. Otherwise I'm going to theorize about the moods of the queen of kitins by deciphering the backs of caprynis!
– What!? I don't understand!?
– But come on! No kitin in the Desert !? And yet to which people does the hooonooor of discovering the first nest of kitins belong? What' s the point of making a map of the Ancient Lands if you only retain what suits you!
– Honor? Um… ah… ah… I…
– ney honor! You think it's our fault, you too!? But nooot at all. Kitins are everywhere, you hear me? Everywhere under the Bark, they're teeming, and would have come out sooner or later! he hissed at his interlocutor, eyes threatening.
– Besides, he continued, look at the white kitins, known as “from the depths”, recently. Are they sparing the Desert? deeey.

Pyphollo remained dazed for a good two minutes in the corridor, then took another one to tidy up the pages of the symbology study, before timidly leading to the neighbouring office of the same Chair of Knowledge, at Master of Xylology Ulyton Meros'.

– What's that got to do with xylology? Ulyton dubiously asked, raising his head after going through several pages of the first volume.
– It will come later, Master, the disciple softly replied.
Minutes passed, Ulyton turned the pages of the second volume at a gentle and regular rhythm. However, his bald forehead was verging on the color of a kirosta in Scorched Corridor.
– I repeat my question: what does this have to do with xylology? he asked, staring inquisitively at the disciple.
– Forgive me Master… Wait, I'll… show you directly.
Pyphollo searched awkwardly in the third volume for the pages where the akenak had made hypothesis on atysian typology. His hand trembled nervously because this was also the passage that, it seemed, Daeronn had not liked.
Ulyton read conscientiously again, and the more he read, the more his complexion now turned to the Matis “hermit of Primes” and his forehead wrinkled with questions.
Phypollo wasn't overconfident, expecting the worst…

But that's not what happened, Ulyton sighed, crossed his arms, his chin leaned upon one hand. He was thinking. His gaze crossed that of the disciple as if looking for answers. Pyphollo stared at him with his mouth open, hanging upon what he was going to say.
– Is this true? All researchers do agree that we live on immense roots?
The disciple didn't know what to answer.
– I visited boreholes on the four continents, the master said, putting up a front again. It is true that the textures in the deep wood are not the same depending on whether you are in the Desert or in the Lakes. The dry bark of the Desert is quite friable, it is dug quite easily, unlike the lake soil which rests on a hard and watertight base. Forest and Jungle, as for them, their textures are similar and those I think the closest to a certain normality.
Pyphollo, relieved to see the Master at his reasoning, nodded his head while quickly taking notes on a capryni vellum.
– It's obvious that to search for fyrak, I would dig under the Desert. And even in its hottest part, under the canyons, even under the Flaming Forest. The heat comes from underground, ney that's for sure.
– On cons, the master continued, I'm skeptical about his concept of the “Prime Roots type root”. It doesn't make sense to me. Besides, most homins are wrong: Prime Roots are not roots, they are cavities!

After this interview, Pyphollo regained some hope about the value of study. The xylologist had undoubtedly been affected, more than he had deigned to admit. Good. He moved up to the Chamber of Honour, Chair of the Sword. There he found the talumetimos of Magic, in this case Fyros saddled with a Matis name, Chiargio Rorinia. As with the previous masters, Pyphollo politely explained his visit, seal of the Chancellor in support. Then while the Master took the time to read, he studiously prepared to take notes.

– Hmmmm… He really masters magic, this… Azazor? the Master grumbled as he pretended to read the author's name on the last scroll.
– ney Master, he's a legionnaire you know. Not exactly the kind of homin you want to upset.
Chiargio didn't bat an eye.
– No because… still, about magic, it's full of inaccuracies and omissions there! he grumbled as he mechanically turned the pages over in the opposite direction. And… supposedly, they did their research together!? But what is this team of no-hopers?
Pyphollo didn't like the tone this Master used at all. He said nothing, his lips pursed. He was doing all this on purpose, he was sure of it.
– These runic visions are well known, Chiargio continued as if nothing had happened. We visualize them on the target of a spell, at the moment of impact. The phenomenon is stable, modulated according to three power levels: on anum lo, di anum on, anash anun on.
Pyphollo remained stoic, but a glint in his eye betrayed his curiosity.
– But he would find nothing useful in this phenomenon to win battles, Chiargio declared.
– Usefulness in battle is not the subject of the research, intervened the disciple, but don't you think, Master, that we can attribute each of these symbols to a people and, by extension, to a type of landscape?
– dey.
– Ah? But still, they are sometimes disturbing of coincidences!
– Because, for offensive magic anyway, the phenomenon is invariant: whatever the spell used, whatever the sap or even the nature of the caster, whatever the target, whatever the place of execution… we all and always see the same sequence! he said, weighing on these last words. So no valid correlation in my opinion, he concluded.
– And… what about the other magics?
– The legionnaire can exhaust his eyes on them, whatever floats his boat.

Although very unpleasant at first, the talumetimos of Magic surprised him in the end by giving him a written recommendation for a new track that Euphanix had not foreseen for his route: the alchemists. Pyphollo therefore went opposite, to the Chamber of Discipline, Chair of Alchemy. He was received by the homine Ibissedos Diolus.

– What!? Me to get you the Sulyrus tablet out!? dey! she protested.
– But…
“Why?” Pyphollo would ask… The word remained in his mouth while memories flowed into his head: Sulyrus… Zecado Sulyrus! Renowned imperial alchemist; falsely kidnapped by Akilia Ash Storm in 2544; proved to be a traitor to the Empire in 2551, when trying to kidnap Senator Abycus Zekops. Could Chiargio have played a trick on him?
– Besides, that's completely obsolete! This modeling has never produced any tangible results!
– Just a moment! It's not a question of using it in alchemy, but of evaluating its “symbolic substance”, explained Pyphollo with a vague gesture.
– What are you talking about? I should have had it thrown in the belly of the Forge with the rest!
– Oh… dey not do that, in the name of Truth!
– Truth? What truth can come from a traitor?
– Please, talumetimos, if this tablet is of no use to alchemy, then you know that its place is undoubtedly in the archives, whoever wrote it and whatever its contents.

Thanks to his prudence and perseverance, Pyphollo finally convinced Ibissedos. Out of politeness, he waited to say goodbye to the alchemist before giving his full attention to the tablet. Painted on a board of light-coloured olansi wood, two columns put in relation at each line a sign with a root word of the fyrk language transcribed in the mateis alphabet.

Underneath were engraved the following lines:

ha fyrash ûr eps atalmeyu
justified nomenclature

Pyphollo walked towards the Chancellor's office, so absorbed in his thought that he hurtled in unannounced. No sooner had he raised his head than the shot went off and the projectile grazed his locks.
– Ah talumetimètos, you've finished your investigation, she said as if nothing had happened while making a reel to her rimmelyx before blowing on the muzzle of the barrel.
– ta… ta… talumeti… Isn't that a bit dangerous? What if it had been a Master… or a Senator!
– Bah dey dital detal, I recognize your step the moment you approach the end of the corridor. But it could also have been a murderer… who would have pretended to be you! she said a bit mocking, gently tidying the weapon in a drawer.

The disciple made his report, his superior listened while sharpening a blamyx that she had pulled out of a slit in the side of her skirt.
– Here it is talumetimakos. So, in conclusion, it is a mixed reception from the specialists. But nevertheless this intuitive approach of “symbology” does not seem uninteresting to me.
– Without the endorsement of a Chair Master, the dossier is too light. It obviously lacks a more solid foundation. It would require a better cultural knowledge of symbols, I would say mainly Fyros and Tryker, the last peoples to adopt writing.
– ney… but then wouldn't the akenak have lost its spontaneity? His deductions follow one another with the playfulness of a sprightly capryni, but they call out to me! I believe in the virtue of intuition. To sum up, the general postulate would be that the symbolic was born from the ancient and deep influence of our environment and that therefore the interpretation of the symbolic could lead us on the opposite path and reveal the secrets of our environment!
– The first part of your postulate is a simple obviousness… Let's hope that the second part doesn't lead you to a dazing emptiness!
– Hahaha ney, but… dey : for example these magic glyphs, of which we have here a proof that someone has studied them, do we see them because they exist? Or would they be a projection of our thinking?
– I don't know, magic is not my cup of tchaï. On the other hand, look, she resumed, pointing her sword at the bottom of the tablet Pyphollo was holding, it says: “justified nomenclature”.
– Exactly, I was about to come to that… What does it imply? There would have been previous researches, dey? But conducted by whom?
– By… predecessors… I know what to look for! Follow me!" she said, rising with an impulse.

They went down into the basement, with torches, into the older archives. Euphanix consulted a register, then took a few steps among the rows of shelves. She took out of a drawer a small box, which was filled with amber cubes, each in its own compartment. After examining their numbering, she took one of them out carefully.
– Consult this cube talumetimètos, if it doesn't answer your questions, it will certainly add others!
– künos akep talumetimakos!
– Don't be so enthusiastic! According to the register, it's gibberish.

Pyphollo returned to his favourite corner. There he crouched down on the floor, his back to the wall, as usual. Preciously holding the cube with his fingertips, he let his gaze fog up far inside, as he had learned. The flow of memories began to be born in him, first a sweet perfume, then a soft sound that took the form of a homine's voice, announcing:

To our regent Leanon..,
Prelude to the quest for the Great Dragon
Fundamental Magic Arcana
By the Order of the Pyromancers

————
Small firk/Common glossary
ney : yes
dey : no
talumetimakos : Chancellor of the Academy
talumetimètos : Disciple of the Academy
talumetimos : Master of the Academy
akep : thank you
fyrak : the Great Dragon
dital detal : young idiot
künos akep : many thanks

Letter to Nexy Mac’Keeley

Kyriann — Sun, 03 May 2020 07:45:28 +0000

Kyriann's moved into Ba'Naer Liffan's bar. She has taken out her writing material, the one used for storytelling.
But there's no question of writing a story there!

Izam sent to Nexy Mac'Keeley

Nair Mac'Keeley,
On 30 Thermis CA2 2592, we presented ourselves in front of you and all our friends for you to marry Jamaridoi and me.
Since now 2593, I have no news of Jamaridoi, who has never returned from an expedition through the Prime Roots.
I no longer believe he will return. The Powers won't give him back to me.
So I would like to organize a celebration of regained freedom so that I no longer live in the past.

Eolinius who was my best man and Jazzy who was my foster father will be there too.

Can you give me a date for the ceremony?

Tryka, Meer, Sella!

Kyriann Ba'Zephy Rie
Taliar
Head of Bai Nhori Drakani Guild

Kyriann finishes her missive and sends it out right away. The future can't wait any longer.

Lacuna's Song

Eruv — Wed, 29 Apr 2020 05:28:22 +0000

Hello Lacunakoo :P

I trust you're pleased you made me get off my dusty ass and write you a note.
Thesos was so long ago, but I will always remember it.

To the one who certainly far exceeded my abilities: I am proud to call you my newbie (If you'll permit it...).

And Ast, sorry I haven't been at the stables my friend and mentor.

Réflexion sur un lien entre kamis et kitins

Azazor — Tue, 28 Apr 2020 13:36:39 +0000

Azazor ressort des archives de l'Académie Impériale avec un air maussade. Sa dernière tentative de se rapprocher de l'alliance kamiste s'est soldée par une réunion de l'alliance absolument pitoyable. Lui qui venait pour reprendre contact avec eux, dans l'espoir de pouvoir discuter sereinement des avant-postes et de leur intérêt autre que purement matériel, il n'a pu qu'assister à des disputes inutiles entre guildes et s'apercevoir de l'inculture grotesque de ces kamistes de pacotille. Autant partir dans ce cas, que de rester assis à observer la déliquescence de ce qui fut autrefois une alliance puissante.

Il n'a jamais été kamiste convaincu, loin de là. Mais au regard de ces pseudos guerriers, plus attirés par les matières premières des nexus que par l'équilibre de la nature, il se dit qu'il n'a décidément rien à voir avec eux. Il espère que cet ouvrage qu'il vient de déposer à l'Académie Impériale les poussera un peu à s'interroger. Il ne se fait cependant aucune illusion. La plupart n'ont probablement jamais ouvert un livre de leur vie. Alors mettre les pieds dans une bibliothèque...

[HRP]
Ouvrage consultable en FR sur le wiki: Réflexion sur un lien entre kamis et kitins.
[/HRP]

Nelly

Virg — Thu, 16 Apr 2020 12:26:30 +0000

5 years on and still no #Justice4Nelly.. heartbreaking.

Chroniques de la Firme

Dukenono — Tue, 14 Apr 2020 12:26:04 +0000

Vers l’an de Jena 2608.

Duke traînait la jambe. Le matis continuait à progresser lentement dans ce dédale de tunnels et de cavités de toutes tailles. Mais cet endroit grouillait maintenant de kitins. Il fallait faire très attention, sans quoi son prochain combat serait sans doute le dernier.

Après des heures à tourner à droite, à gauche, à rebrousser chemin pour éviter une patrouille, le tunnel s’ouvrit sur un ravin apparemment infranchissable. Duke était à bout de forces. Il s’assit quelques instants pour reprendre son souffle et observa les alentours. Il repéra bientôt un chemin qui serpentait à bonne distance, le long de l’autre versant, puis s’enfonçait entre les racines. Cet endroit lui semblait vaguement familier. Sa douleur à la jambe ne le quittait pas.

Il réfléchissait au moyen de traverser cet abîme sans fond quand il vit une petite troupe d’homins marchant de l’autre côté. Son coeur se mit à battre plus fort. Ces uniformes-là, il les connaissait bien. Il leur fit signe, mais eux ne pouvaient pas le voir d’aussi loin. Duke n’avait plus assez d’énergie pour crier. Il fallait agir vite, ils s’éloignaient déjà. Alors il ouvrit son sac rapiécé et en sortit une vieille fusée de feu d’artifice. Est-ce que ça ne risquait pas d’attirer les kitins ? Hmm. Il hocha la tête puis alluma la mèche...

dekior kif

Azazor — Mon, 13 Apr 2020 17:17:27 +0000

Quoi de mieux pour passer le temps que de lire un dekior kif?
ça tombe bien, le numéro 4 vient de sortir.

MESSAGE POUR NILSTILAR

Nilstilar — Fri, 03 Apr 2020 09:06:35 +0000

Nilstilar Thorec, District de Yasson, Yrkanis
à
le rouge qui hait la pluie

Le 29 d'Harvestor 4AC 2607

oren pyr, le rouge !

Comme, malgré tout ce qui nous sépare, j'avoue me languir un tantinet de votre inimitable façon de raconter les histoires d'autrefois, j'espère que ce que j'ai à vous dire ici ne va pas vous inciter à replonger dans la shooki jusqu'à l'hébétude…

Car je me vois contraint, vu l'obésité actuelle de mon agenda (dû au soudain afflux sur l'Écorce de réfugiés et autres ci-devant endormis), de repousser sine die la date de la petite expédition anti-alcoolique que je vous proposais naguère.

Je ne manquerai pas, cependant, de vous recontacter dès que le dit agenda aura dégonflé. D'ici là, je vous en conjure encore, pour l'amour de Jena, mollissez sur la liqueur de shooki ! Et songez que, sur notre verte planète, l'eau de pluie n'est pas si infecte…

Deles necat, le rouge !
--
Nilstilar Thorec
Bohorën d'Alkiane
Ambassadeur de Sa Majesté auprès de la Fédération de Naw Trykoth

Lettre à Daeronn Cegrips

Azazor — Thu, 02 Apr 2020 07:38:04 +0000

Azazor écrit un premier rapport à Daeronn Cegrips. Il lui parle des avancées du collectif d’étude des kitins qu’il a lancé il y a quelques mois. Jusqu’ici, deux plans de kitinières ont été établis.

Le premier plan est celui du tunnel des malheurs.

Tunnels bleus: celui qui va de l’entrée 2 à 5, présence de kinchers. Celui de l’entrée 1 à 4, présence de kizoars, kibans, kipuckas et kipees.
Tunnel jaune : des kizoars.
Et le plus important, les tunnels roses : des kirostas à chaque entrée puis des kinreys à mesure qu’on se rapproche de l’impasse rose et de la salle de la kizarak, gardée par des kidinak. Quelques salles également entre 6 et 7 avec des kibans et des kinchers. Aucun passage secret découvert.

Le deuxième plan est celui de desertstock.

Ça grimpe tout du long. Le grand K +L tout en haut, c’est la kizarak et des larves de kitins, gardés comme toujours par des kidinaks. Une flopée de kinreys tout le long, sauf en bas, où on trouve principalement des kirostas et des kinchers, ainsi qu’une petite kizarak et ses kidinaks (le petit k). La kitinière ressemble étrangement à la grande souche à l’est de la région du vide dans la jungle zoraï.

Il joint pour chaque kitinière un stock de mandibules, carapaces et autres restes de kitins, notamment des kinreys et des kizarak abattus, enveloppés dans du cuir de varinx. Le paquet peu ragoutant et dégoulinant du fait de son début de putréfaction donne d’ailleurs la nausée à l’assistant venu récupérer le colis.

Pour la kitinière du sous-bois du malheur, après deux tentatives de passage en force, le collectif est toujours incapable de tuer la kizarak qu’ils ont repéré dans la grande salle principale. Mais ils ne perdent pas espoir et retenteront un troisième essai d’ici quelque temps. Le collectif réfléchit en ce moment même à se confectionner des bijoux pour résister aux kidinaks.

Enfin, Azazor termine sa lettre en expliquant ce qu’ils ont vu lors du sauvetage du commandant de l’UFA Jazzy. Ce plan qui ressemble au glyphe au point du milieu, à la présence avérée, d’après témoignages de plusieurs membres du cercle du bois d’Almati, de mini vortex pas plus gros qu’un yubo dans la galerie en bas à droite, précisément au niveau du rond du glyphe. Rond = vortex ? Et de ces œufs de kitins dont il a pris un lucio. S’il s’avère que cet endroit est le début d’une nouvelle kitinière, sa découverte pourrait leur apporter la gloire et rabattre le caquet de ses contempteurs (un certain Ardan Keale pour n’en citer qu’un).

Il termine par un PS: Une intuition nous est venue lors de la dernière réunion du collectif de bloquer les phéromones des kitins en se barbouillant de restes de kitin. Savez-vous si cette piste a déjà été explorée pour se rendre invisible auprès des kitins?

Message to FUA members

Kyriann — Thu, 26 Mar 2020 08:11:31 +0000

Poster on the walls of the cities of the Federation

It is in my position as Chief of Bai Nhori Drakani that I am asking the members of the UFA to join our group to rescue Commander Jazzy.

Put aside factional squabbles and come and pull your commander out of the trap in which he's being held!
With him, you will rebuild a UFA stronger than ever!

Meet us on 21h - Holeth, Floris 24, 4th AC 2607 at the Fairhaven Stables. From there, we'll leave for the Nexus.

Tryka! Meer! Sella! Tor Jazzy! Tor Trykeri!

Kyriann
Chief of Bai Nhori Drakani

[OOC]* On Sunday, 29 March 18:45:00 UTC (7 months ago).[/OOC]

Strange Matters. of black and white

Bitttymacod — Mon, 02 Mar 2020 07:12:41 +0000

I was wandering around Fairhaven the other day trying to find out what's new, since I've been away for a while. Most of the time it was the same old, "New, in Atys?" followed by laughter, but I went to ask Ba'Darden Cothan and she looked at me funny and said,

"First, there's the white. The white shows itself while the black hides. The little one digs out the brown and discovers the black. The black tries to hurt her but she doesn't let it. When she thinks she has won ... the grey springs up and devours everything."

Well, I sat her down at Effan's bar and ordered her a beer to calm her down, and she seemed ok, but then I asked her again and she said the exact same thing!

Well, she's always been a little loosely wrapped, as the saying goes, but then I was down near the trainers and I asked Ba'Dagham Effer and he suddenly gets this dazed look, just like Cothan and says the same thing as she did!

I don't know what's going on, but I don't like it.

----------
((OOC -- feel free to put any information you have figured out about the upcoming event here in this thread.))

Un tract des Larmes...

Zarden — Wed, 05 Feb 2020 22:38:22 +0000

This small bill, handwritten on a dark parchment, can be seen on the walls of all the capitals, and especially around Fairhaven's bar.

Les Larmes are still Mercenarys : thanks to years of experience on all battlefronts of Atys, we give a fast and discreet answer to all your requests. Debt collection, definitive resolution of personnal conflicts or provision of our elite forces on outpost battles, our strong methods will fullfill all your needs.

Contact Zarden or Scooby to discuss your needs.

We may refuse some contracts.

Les Mera

Vekariel — Tue, 17 Dec 2019 03:29:32 +0000

-Vekariel: Passe-moi le plat de yubo rôti, je te prie.
-Baeline: Vous avez déjà fini les côtelettes de bodoc, deux steaks, en plus du trois quart des légumes mon oncle.
-Vekariel: Donne la miche de pain aussi.

Le matis dévorait tout ce qu’il avait sous la main comme s’il n’avait pas mangé depuis des semaines sous le regard perturbé de sa protégé.

-Baeline: Est-ce que je vous ressert du vin?
-Vekariel: Nec, deux verres c’est amplement, tiens passe moi donc la cruche d’eau.
-Baeline: Vous vous sentez bien?
-Vekariel: Je suis dangereusement en forme mon varini.
-Baeline: Je vois cela…J’ai vraiment cru que Jena venait vous chercher l’autre jour vous savez.
-Vekariel: Moi aussi.
-Baeline: …

Vekariel essuya ses lèvres avec sa serviette et posa son regard reptilien sur la jeune homine.

-Vekariel: Je ne suis pas certain de comprendre moi non plus, je vois cela comme un signe de la Déesse. Nul ne sait ce qu’elle a en tête, mais je suis optimiste désormais. Nous ne savons pas de quoi demain sera fait mais je pense qu’elle a entendu nos prières.

Il prit doucement les mains basanés de Baeline dans les siennes. Elle sursauta en constatant que leur froideur habituelle n’était plus. Vekariel Mera n’était plus ce qu’elle avait connu. Sa chevelure s’était épaissit, son regard illuminé. Il marchait, courrait, faisait du sport et mangeait comme deux homins.

-Vekariel: Allez on y va.
-Baeline: Mais où ça!

L’homin esquissa une moue moqueuse tandis qu’il enfilait son armure.

-Vekariel: Nous partons chasser, bien sûr. Sil? Quoi. Oh je t’en prie ne fais pas cette tête là.
-Baeline: Putain mais. Qu’est-ce que vous avez! Z’êtes flippant là, arrêtez immédiatement vos bêtises!

Baeline avait peur que ce regain d’énergie puisse être temporaire et que le Matis rechute en se surmenant. Tout cela ne faisait pas de sens de toute façon. Un homins né fragile ne s’affranchissait pas aussi soudainement de sa condition. Vekariel noua ses cheveux blond comme la lumière du jour et prit son épée.

-Vekariel: Surveille ta langue. Tu deviens une adulte, comporte-toi comme tel. Je n’ai que faire de tes protestations ou ton opinion à ce sujet. Je pars chasser.

Il tendit une paire de gants de mage à sa nièce.

-Vekariel: Tu viens? Peut-être as-tu peur?

Baeline feula, son visage vira au rouge. Elle prit les gants et les enfila, de mauvaise humeur.

-Baeline: N’importe quoi, j’ai jamais entendu autant de non-sens en si peu de temps. Puisque vous êtes borné a crever je viens avec vous mais venez pas vous plaindre que c’est difficile ou que vous êtes fatigué!

-Vekariel: Tais-toi donc ma nièce, tu vas faire peur aux kinchers.

[FR] Réflexions d'une petite Tryker.... [/FR]

Peatpom — Mon, 16 Dec 2019 16:01:44 +0000

[FR]
Pom marche sur les branches hautes de la canopée, son armure brille au soleil.
Dans sa main sa Grande hache de guerre luis doucement. Sur ses hanches, son épée et ses dagues battent...

l'ancienne Maraudeuse ressent une présence: devant elle un homin, une silhouette noire familière.
Elle approche prudemment, vérifiant discrètement la charge de sève de ses armes...

l'homin porte l'insigne du Clan.
Il sort deux dagues que Pom connait bien.
La Bleu et la jaune luisent de leur lumière malsaine.

Le tryker sourit narquois.

l'homin Crie:
"Banarc Natiëf Maiurëf, Baë T'as mis L'temps à M'rejoindre!"

"Ny'Ezekiel? ...C'est Sul? ...Eny Sul est...??"

subitement, l'homine semble comprendre."

"...Al Oy! alors Sul viens tor notre Mariage?"

Pom sourit heureuse, ferme son casque et sans prévenir se jette sur le maraudeur sa hache en avant.

"OY!!! Ny'Amne Y viens Sul Prendre!"

Spoiler

Dessiller

Aelyne — Thu, 12 Dec 2019 12:42:45 +0000

[FR]
Meany AnLor ... Meany tolli couchée tolldoy...

AnLor Aelyne veux jouer!

Da AnNeu veux An que Aelyne fait des calini à Meany:

Da AnNeu AnLor!!

Aelyne P'eure b'ocoup...

F'eur A' Cani sont là, Eny F'eur veux An jouer! F'eur An contant, Ilne, F'eur AnLor!!!

Meany tousse: "Tornet Meany tousser TollDoy?!"

"Cani... p'eures?!"

"Tornet Cani p'eurer? c'est Da AnNeu qui veux An Jouer avec Cani?" "Da AnNeu An Lor!!"

"Cani! Cani, Bras!
Cani! Calini .... Heu... Pacti Cani!"

"Aeline fatiguée, Cani! Toubi, donne Toubi.... Heu... Pacti"

"toubi toll doux... Lor Toubi"

Lettre à Sunzhia.

Baeline — Mon, 09 Dec 2019 01:49:30 +0000

Serae Sunzhia,

Je ne sais pas si cette lettre vous parviendra mais je prends une chance. J'ai croisé par deux fois un drôle d'izam nommé Hiro, complètement perdu. Il m'a parlé de vous, comme d'une amie. Je l'ai aperçu pour la dernière fois au bar d'Yrkanis. Il risque de remonter vers le désert ou de tenter de descendre chez les trykers. Mon instinct me dit que vous le trouverez donc au bar de Fair Haven, Pyr ou Thesos. J'ai tenté de lui expliqué comment se rendre chez les Zorai, sans succès.

Je lui ai donné des vivres et de l'eau avant qu'il parte à nouveau.

Cordialement,

Baeline Mera de l'Ordre Alkiane.

travail collaboratif

Azazor — Wed, 04 Dec 2019 18:14:11 +0000

Annonce publiée à Thesos:

Dans la cadre de l'écriture d'un nouveau livre sur les curiosités du désert, j'invite tous les volontaires à participer à quelques recherches. Des petites, des grosses, il y en a pour tous les goûts. Vos noms seront cités quand l'ouvrage sortira.

- Que voyez-vous sur les 3 types de totems du désert? Quels types d'animaux? Je ne parle pas des totems kamis.

- Ces totems sont-ils aussi présent dans d'autres régions que le désert, et si oui où? Je sais qu'on en trouve en primes racines par exemple, mais il faudrait répertorier les régions, et même les lieux dits.

- Pouvez-vous prendre des lucios de restes ou d'images d'animaux non répertoriés? J'ai déjà les peaux qu'on trouve dans la forteresse de thesos, l'animal à corne des routes du désert et le crâne à deux cornes des étables.

- Voyez-vous quelque chose de particulier dans les symboles présents sur les murs avenue arispotle et cerakos? Un symbole déjà vu ailleurs?

akep pour votre implication. Vous pouvez me faire part de vos découvertes par écrits. Nous en parlerons lors d'une réunion dont la date reste à prévoir.

Azazor, akenak et écrivain

Locna's den

Kurutani — Sat, 09 Nov 2019 13:25:17 +0000

Locna's den

McRakley was a fisherman of the old Trykoth, long before the first Great Swarm. His tribe, located in a small coastal village in Breneth Bay, lived mainly from the pearl trade.

He had two twin sisters, Ruddie and Rebbie, two years older than him, with whom he spent most of his time diving into the surrounding shores to collect pearls and shells.

He loved diving terribly. But... he also dreamed of other horizons.

One day while wandering through Breneth Harbour, he heard about a mysterious little creek well beyond their usual fishing grounds, infested with prakkers and home to a gigantic marine creature, it was said. Others claimed that it was the den of a witch who had denied Jena and turned to Kami demons.

From then on, his interest was aroused and he convinced himself that the place must have been full of rare pearls. Even his sisters, who were usually much more reasonable, could not resist the desire to explore this place, cursed or not. So, on Frutor's last day, they left the village at dawn on their fishing boat and set sail for their mysterious destination.

The afternoon was coming to an end when they saw the creek, clearly recognizable by the very high broken arch cliff overlooking the access to the small cove. A victorious smile illuminated their faces.

But when they arrived a few dozen steps from the ark, they were worried. The waves had suddenly become darker and agitated with eddies.

- the prakkers! They said in unison, a trace of fear in the voice.

Attracted by the newcomers, they headed for the boat and soon surrounded it. In front of them, a more massive individual blocked the passage and regularly pulled his head out of the waves to threaten them with his sharp-toothed jaws.

But McRakley and his two sisters held on. Putting away their oars to avoid hurting or annoying the prakkers, they let the wind do its work. Finally the great prakker plunged into a great crash, and McRakley feared that he would rise violently to capsize the frail boat and throw them into the bubbling waves. Preparing for the worst, he grabbed his fishing knife firmly, quickly imitated by his sisters.

But the great prakker did not reappear. Soon they crossed the threshold of the ark and immediately their escort lost interest in them, turning back.

As soon as the boat was secured on the narrow beach, McRakley grabbed his knife and dived towards the nearby cliff, ignoring the grumbling of his sisters who were busy setting up camp. Used to small coves like these, he soon found some beautiful specimens. He was about to go up again when his attention was drawn to a bright white glow on the bottom of the water.

It was actually a good-sized pearl, almost entirely embedded in the bark. Armed with his blade, he cleared it not without difficulty, trying not to chip it, before coming up to the surface to catch his breath.

He swam to the beach, too eager to show his discovery to his sisters! But they were in conversation with a fairly tall tryker homina, whose purple hair waved down to her lower back, which was more than unusual.

He didn't know why, but he felt he shouldn't show the white pearl to the stranger, so he slipped it into one of his pockets.

The homina turned to him and nodded his head as a greeting:
- Hi, I'm Locna. You're not the guests I was expecting, but come to my place, I'll prepare you a hot meal. The night is cool here when the wind rises.

Without waiting for their answer, she headed for a small bark growth, and McRakley soon found himself on a fairly steep trail, cracking along the cliff. Looking up, he could see, far up at the top, the sparkling glow of a campfire. It took them half an hour to reach the camp and it was now dark night, the sky was dotted with countless stars. McRakley, like his sisters, had had a tough day: he was starving and thirsty.

Locna invited them to sit down, which they did without being asked twice.

- I'll get you a fish broth, don't move. And *meaning a tray by the fire* don't touch these breads, they are for my other guests.

On these words, she disappeared into the large tent that was to serve as her reserve. Patience was not McRakley's cardinal virtue. His avid gaze turned to the appetizing pastries left to cool.

- Mack No! whispered his sisters in chorus.

But he had already taken a pair of these rolls and put them in his mouth without any other kind of trial. That's when Locna came back and caught MacRakley in the act. He had the good taste to look shameful, but Locna was not touched in the slightest by it.

Suddenly, she grew bigger, bigger, bigger, even bigger than the size of a zorai, her eyes became colored with a greenish shade. Her purple hair, now tinged with scarlet and black, rose up, framing her pale and rabid face. With a deep and hoarse voice, she cried out:

- What have you done, you idiot! Hold him back, sisters!

McRakley sketched a retreat, preparing to protect his sisters. He turned to them and froze. Like Locna, their skin had turned grey, and their eyes had changed. They walked towards him with muffled growls and extended their hands. Their purplish fingers bristling with long, tapered claws.

He felt Locna's breath on his neck and threw himself to the side, rushing towards the beach path. But giants blocked his way. Three monstrous Zorais, whose sinisterly shaped masks wore bloody tattoos, lifted long sticks that threw blue flashes of lightning.

Trapped! Trapped!

He turned around, desperately looking for another way out. His sisters were on him. Rebbie embraced his body and grabbed him with strength, while Ruddie held his legs together, immobilizing him. Locna, on the other hand, continued her slow approach, confident of her victory.

In a final surge of energy, he gave a violent head butt to one, and an avalanche of punches to the other, until he was released from their grip. Then he charged in the only direction he had left, without thinking, running straight ahead, blindly, until he lost his breath. He did not need to turn around to know that the monstrous pack was on his heels, as their screams became more and more angry and sharp.

Suddenly, a movement on the ground caught his eye but too late: tangled roots had risen out of the bark and made him lose his balance. He felt his sap flowing down his arm, but strengthened his will and stood up again to resume his frantic run. But nothing awaited him at the end of the road but despair: cornered on the edge of the precipice, he had only two options: turn around or jump.

He looked at his pursuers. They had stopped, on the lookout. Locna and his sisters addressed him with their deep and gloomy voice:

- come... with... ussss.... !

With tears in his eyes, he bade his farewells to his sisters, then threw himself into the void, ready to sell his life at a high price. His sudden arrival in the water reminded him how bruised his body was. His arm injury was throwing him terribly.

But it was McRakley's least of his concerns. Attracted by the sap, three dark forms moved towards him, quickly followed by others. They were on him, it was over, he was sure of it. But they wouldn't get away with it without a blow.

It was then that the agitation spread to the aqua-predators. Suddenly, blue flashes of lightning spread through the water, knocking out some prakkers and driving others away. And despite the poor clarity of the stars, McRakley could see the terrible beast that was coming at him: he had only escaped the prakkers to be chased by a gigantic white baldusa.

Dodging the masterful beast, he made a long cut with his knife on the left flank. She rumbled and her reaction did not take long. Lightning struck the water again, and McRakley was suddenly tetanized. Unable to swim or breathe, he sank to the depths, his eyes riveted on this majestic creature.

And as she rushed towards him, with her jaws open, he chose to close his eyes and abandon himself to his tragic destiny.

***

McRakley opened his eyes. He could feel the warm sawdust against his skin. Not far away, his two sisters were yapping as they gutted fish. He perceived a close and startled presence. Locna stood beside him, holding in his hand a cloth soaked in a mixture with a pungent smell.

- You...

His two sisters turned their heads towards him when they heard his voice. Visibly relieved, they got up and nevertheless left to settle further away, ostensibly turning their backs on him.

- what...

- Shhhhhh. Not a word, you need to rest. But the next time I say don't eat a dish, listen to me. Those are not for you.

McRakley eventually figured it out.

- The breads? So I was delirious, then?
- That's one of the effects of my mushrooms, yes.
- But then, the monsters, the claws, the white baldusa, all that was my imagination?
- Yes. As for the white baldusa... who knows? Here, I think this is yours.

She handed him the white pearl.

- Now get some rest.

The exhaustion came back to numb his body, but before falling asleep, he noticed, as she stood up, a long estafilade on his left side that he had not seen the day before.

.

Chansons trykères au coin du feu

Kurutani — Fri, 09 Aug 2019 12:16:48 +0000

Ganeer toll y tryk.

Andoy-niw, ba skee syln ry
Al bai skayai syln ver py

Ganeer toll ! Tamnai al Tamnii !
Ganeer toll ! Limnai al Limnii !
Ganeer toll ! Seani al Deani !
Ganeer toll ! Talai al Talii !

Wil bei seekoi al bei ayai
Wil be pachan al bei leyai
Al seyem Lyll elys gyfa.
Toll willa, tylltrik ver rya :

MEER ! SELLA ! TRYKA !

---- Traduction (FR)

Ce soir le ciel est magnifique
et les étoiles sont si nombreuses

Venez tous, amants et maîtresses !
Venez tous, maris et femmes !
Venez tous, fils et filles !
Venez tous, frères et sœurs !

Avec des noix de coco et des agrumes*,
Avec du poisson et des légumes,
Et votre rire comme cadeau,
Tous ensemble chantons très haut :

Liberté! Egalité! Partage!

* stricto sensu, cela se traduit en "fruit". Agrume choisi pour la rime.

Of bittersweet reunions and lost hope

Luminatrix — Tue, 09 Jul 2019 09:32:54 +0000

[OOC - this is the story of a reunion between two best friends, told from the point of view of Senatrius]

Luminatrix shook her head. „He’s old enough to make these kinds of decisions for himself. He stayed at Fairhaven, wants to explore the world. And before you ask, no, I’m not worried about him. He grew up in one of the toughest parts of Atys. I’ve taught him how to fight and when it’s better to retreat and live to fight another day. He’s adept at tracking prey, he can harvest food, find shelter and avoid dangerous predators. My son can take better care of himself than most. And if he so chooses, he can stay with the Trykers. He'll blend in easily enough. He was lucky, got his looks from me and not his father. Looks just like one of us, just taller, with lighter skin and a slightly smaller nose. I’m sure he’ll be fine, wherever the winds take him.“

They sat in silence for a while. They talked about Marauders for a long time, Senatrius gaining a new perspective on those he once saw as despicable fiends. They ate dried bodoc meat and delicious yelk cheese and washed it down with famous Tryker ale. Senatrius was happy to see his best friend again, but something bothered him. There was too much sadness in her eyes, despite the words she spoke about her clan, about her son.

„Lumi…are you happy to be back?“ he blurted out at last.

„I can’t say that I am. Over the years, I have lost so much. So many I cared about are gone, I don’t know which one to mourn first. And my new clan…they are not around much lately. All of them busy with their own affairs. Somehow, I feel more alone than I did in twenty years in the Roots.“

Senatrius didn’t really know what to say. He wished to comfort his friend, somehow. But he had no clue how.

„I heard about Lacuna,“ Luminatrix continued in a solemn tone. „And for the last few days, I have been wondering if maybe I should do what she did…“

They sat, talking of nothing and everything until it was almost nightfall. Senatrius would have loved to stay longer, but he had to finish his shopping business in Fairhaven and go back home to his wife. She had a small child on her hands, he didn’t wish to further burden her with taking care of the shop in his absence. He gave his old friend a hug, a last half-hearted smile and activated his teleporter, leaving her sitting on the bank, deep in thought, sorrowful expression in her eyes, twirling a flower in her hand.

[/OOC]

Sadness and Sorrow

Aleeskandaro — Sat, 29 Jun 2019 13:02:54 +0000

Aleeskandaro lay half naked atop of Virginia Falls, the calm ambiance and the occasional spring breeze while he played with the sand helped him keep his head within the realms of sanity. In reality, a great sense of loneliness and dissociation had made their way into his daily life...

He had finished all his daily tasks before it was even mid-day, his three outposts were safe, the spider’s reports from the 4 nations were as usual unexciting, the Masters’ of the Goo grounds were as prepared and fertile as they could ever be and there were no exceptional creatures to be spotted. Him and General Lee had made sure that the land be clean… to the point of queasiness. In brief, he had managed to lock himself into yet another afternoon with absolutely nothing to do.

His usual source of distraction, his Magnificent Giant Flask of Enemy tears had been dried out already five or six seasons ago, he wasn’t careful or judicious enough to account for his enemies’ all too sudden disappearance “…Such loudmouth cowards!” he thought, and a smile drew across his face as he realised they had acted the exact way he had foreseen they would… “it all comes down to the black sap… and bad leadership, I guess… I hoped they would prove me wrong…”, he ripped a Dandelion off the ground and watched closely as a slightly stronger breeze blew all seeds away … refreshing.

He had until now always relied on the majestic Virginia Falls when he needed an alternative source of distraction. This time was different, something had changed in the atmosphere…

Running steps in the distance started closing in every second. The sounds of waterfall, the breeze and the grunting Cuttlers he had earlier masterfully avoided made it difficult for him to properly distinguish what or whose they were... Yet soon enough, a slim figure materialised before him and any doubts were cleared. It was his former lover and now loyal servant Laelgia. Even after so many years of resigning her position as Karavan Priestess, she seemed ever as imposing, grandiose and graceful. However, her expression did not appeal him at all.

“I knew I would found you here, I am burdened to bring you sad news, sit down”… “this tone???” he thought to himself.

Concerned, he followed her direction. “What is it Lae, has any of our enemies been sighted? My tear flask has been empty for a while” he said, trying to ease the perceptible heavier mood, but Laelgia remained sovereign and determined, as was common of her.

“Lacuna is dead…” she looked him in the eye, a tear forming in her own and continued, “an anonymous Izam has delivered news that a lifeless body matching her description was found… Remains of a Purple drink would be dribbling out of her mouth as well as in a cup next to her corpse” she hesitates for a minute, closely examining Alee’s countenance, assessing whether she should stop, but his face just looked expressionless “I suppose you understand what this means, Alee. I think it is final”, she concluded.

The word echoed endlessly in his head, yet every time louder. Of course, he knew what it meant. Was it true though? Could it really be that Lacuna’s Seed of Life was blighted by something as mundane as Goo?... Laelgia had to be lying. But that was not usual of her… Many years ago, she had sworn unconditional loyalty to him, why would she ever lie? And about such a delicate matter?

No. It finally stroke him. A gelid current traversed his body cap-à-pie, freezing his every muscle fibre, he shivered quietly as something inside him broke, again. Why would Lacuna ever even do that? Had it been an accident? Had she been consuming Goo to cope? Had she overlooked what would happen? No. That was not the Lacuna he knew, she was the only mildly reasonable Fyrette all over Atys, wiser than most babbling Zoraï Sages, wiser than himself! No. This had been deliberate.

His mind drifted away to more joyful times. He was comforted by the sight of a mature White Chinchilla on her path to becoming the Great Serpent that she was always destined to be. Mely was finally ready. “Go, Mel, join them and fulfil your duty to yourself, you are now finally ready to hatch”, he remembered telling Mely as she approached him, concerned that he’d be mad if she kept hanging out with The Lost Girls. Of course, he wouldn’t, he had taught her everything he knew. He had seen her learn the intricacies of Magic, become a more avid digger than himself, he had taught her to combine materials into mind-blowing armors of war, and almost every Atys secret he took pride of knowing of, he had shared with her. He had also seen it in the stars, Mely was always meant for Grandiosity. He remembered how she had assigned herself the title of Serpent. He giggled in his mind, it all seemed so recent in spite of how many years had passed.

Mely, the White Chinchilla, turned into a Lost Girl. For a moment, he was happy to remember how much joy she had with her new sisters… He feared Marikka’s boytoy would be a bad influence for her, luckily time proved him wrong, as Marikka herself had (to his joy) disposed of him, his endeared Mel wouldn’t be corrupted... And her joining the Lost Girls clan allowed his own, the Arcane, to get a little closer to them, something he had always secretly desired...

Many a time, even before his awakening, he cooperated with them, the coordination and skill they displayed was always admirable. Especially Lacuna, she had a bright aura around her that inspired empowerment, her stances on males were akin to his own and he admired her like one does those one deems equal. Mely’s move had helped him get to know the mighty Lacuna a bit better and even sympathise with her cause, he would even often find himself supporting her craft endeavours with dappers, even when it was craftworks that he could have done himself, he is rich after all, and there’s no greater joy than helping a fellow marauder homina, especially one like Lacuna...

As he came back to reality, Laelgia sat before him, her ocean blue eyes penetrated directly into his soul and a tear escaped them as she witnessed Alee’s ever serene expression turn into untameable sadness. How many people had he lost now? Lamda, Eilvara, Elvanae, Mely, Lacuna and the list went on. Every loss ever as painful. And even though he had mastered the art of summoning some of his old companions, there was no replacement for their spontaneity, ideas and real presence. “These are dark times Lae, the world is full of sadness and sorrow”. He gave her a hug, unable to comfort her with anything other than silence and insight, and his tears escaped his own will to show himself strong.

... “Help me gather some things, Lae”…

They meet again at the Marauder camp entrance, “Did you bring everything I requested?” Laelgia handed him a Golden backpack. “Yes, it’s all in here.” He put one arm around Laelgia and rubbed his and her Crystals together and appeared suddenly in a much darker place. “Lac loved this place, Lae…”. They walk together towards the Mountain Bane, always marvelled at the beauty of the prime roots, so dark and yet full of life, and of course, precious creatures and materials.

They reached the Hall of the Mountain and Aleeskandaro started pulling items from the golden bag, a pile of Mekoo bones served him to start a fire, one flick of his Magic amplifier and the bones started burning with unseen intensity, the highly flammable character of Mektoub bones made them perfect fuel for long lasting campfires. He continued to pull other things off the bag, a book of recipes from Lacuna, which he had written without her permission, Mely’s sisterhood ring, a rubbarn weapon crafting tool, boosted Tekkorn-jen Sword, Maga-jen and Cheng-duk Amplifiers, he pulled some supreme Zun Amber from the ground and… “Lae did you bring that other thing I asked you to? That from Marceline?” “Yes, of course, I had it in my pocket, so I wouldn’t lose it on the way, you know, it’s so little after all…” she added the parts of Marceline on top of everything and it was all ready.

Alee sprung in the air and started casting a forgotten spell, one that he had long ago learnt from his royal relatives, and which allowed him to transport things into the Nothingness, the land of no-homin, where the souls of all those with blighted seeds of life went to. As the spell landed on the pile of things, they turned into glitter and vanished. He descended and watched as the fire illuminated up the Hall… He knew what a good hunter Lacuna was, he was certain she would find the stuff, rejoice with memories of better times and face whatever may come as fierce as she ever had…

The campfire remains to date as a memorial for a lost loved one.

In memory of Lacuna, a great Hunter and friend, may peace and comfort find you on the other side. Words can not fully express my sorrow. You will be missed.

Carte des anciennes terres

Azazor — Tue, 04 Jun 2019 11:11:21 +0000

Azazor et la secrétaire de la bibliothèque impériale sont en pleine discussion. L'akenak tient dans sa main droite une carte.

- Et vous pensez vraiment que cela représente un tant soit peu nos anciennes terres?

- Je le crois oui, du moins dans les grandes lignes.

- Qu'en pensent les autres érudits?

- Je ne les ai pas consulté. Je transmets mes recherches, c'est tout. Si un chercheur trouve qu'elles sont dignes d'intérêt, il me le fera savoir. Sinon, cette carte prendra la poussière dans une étagère. La bibliothèque est grande et vous n'êtes pas en manque de place que je sache?

- Certes, mais nous avons une réputation à tenir. La Vérité ne saurait s'accommoder d'élucubration d'hurluberlus prétendant savoir mieux que les autres ce que...

Azazor regarde froidement la secrétaire.

- Je ne parle pas de vous bien sûr. Votre recueil sur les tribus fût passionnant et... hum... refaites voir votre carte là...

Après moult discussions, Azazor parvient finalement à faire accepter sa carte à l'académie impériale. Elle rejoindra les autres bizarreries à prendre avec des pincettes.

La secrétaire tend le document à l'un des employés de la bibliothèque.

-Tiens, range ça dans la section de l'autre extrémiste avec son cuir de varinx.

The Upper Branches (all in one thread)

Talkirc — Sun, 12 May 2019 14:24:50 +0000

(ooc) i want to give a big thank you to the readers of this story, almost 7000 views in the years (today is 5-12-19, so nearly 4 years) since it was posted really brings a smile to my face to know that at least the story and the ideas has gotten player attention.with a big smile and a happy heart: THANK YOU ALL.talkIRC crazy raving homin at large.

Please Delete

Jorgensen — Tue, 07 May 2019 00:08:00 +0000

i wish freddy the best of luck in getting the finger

atalùk fyrak

Eolinius — Fri, 03 May 2019 11:56:39 +0000

Eolinius arrache une page de son carnet et griffonne rapidement quelques mots avant de l'accrocher à un izam.

Nair Azazor, y ai trouvé par hasard le second symbole que sul nous a montré avec Kyriann sur un équipement Karavan. Il est en fait assez répandu si on sait ou regarder. Nous pouvons sul montrer dès que sul seras disponible.

Eolinius
Tryka Meer Sella

Tagebuch eines Beobachters

Heernis — Thu, 25 Apr 2019 17:27:48 +0000

Quarta, Frutor 10, 1. AZ 2603

Wer hat bloß diese ganzen Eier auf Atys verstreut? Ich habe einen ganz argen Verdacht, dass es die Bruderschaft war, um die Homins zu versklaven. Eier verteilen, die Jetons enthielten, und dann alle Homins süchtig machen. Diesem bösen Treiben muss ein Ende gesetzt werden, bevor alle Homins dem Glücksspiel verfallen! Selbst eine Kitin-Armada würde so einige Homins nicht vom Platz an den Rädern wegbewegen. Traurig, wie die Homins auf diese Weise abstumpfen.

Alexarwe ist wirklich eine ganz nette Matisse, aber ich kann mir wirklich keinen Reim darauf machen, warum ihr stiller Freund Tomato ihr nicht von der Seite weicht? Ohne zu zögern lässt er sein Leben immer und immer wieder für sie. Eine ganz seltsame Beziehung führen die. Aber soll mich nichts angehen. Sie hat mich zum Buddeln in den Urwurzeln und zum Jagen eingeladen und sie hat sogar die Ausbeute geteilt! Das kann nicht von jedem Matis behaupten. Vielleicht ist sie doch mehr Tryker als Matis.

Neue Flüchtlinge sind angekommen. Es kommt kein Ansturm mehr, aber immerhin vereinzelt, manche verschwinden aber auch auf mysteriöse Weise. Keiner weiß genaueres. Ich vermute die Marauder stecken dahinter, die ihre Kampfkraft erhöhen wollen. Es braut sich da irgendwas zusammen.

Außenposten-Kämpfe wurden meinerseits keine gesichtet. Die Gubani-Rad-Sucht lähmt den Willen dazu. Einseits ist es vielleicht doch nicht so schlecht, die Homins zu beschäftigen, andereseits breitet sich das Goo aus und die Kitins wachsen zahlenmäßig. Auch wurde mir berichtet, dass Kitins im Majestätischen Garten gesehen wurden, aber nicht die Gewöhnlichen, sondern ganz Fiese, die man noch nicht kennt. Ich hoffe, das war nur ein Gerücht und lässt sich nicht bestätigen.

Pyr Casino plan eyes Atys' wealthiest in gambling

Kaetemi — Sun, 21 Apr 2019 23:02:58 +0000

PYR — The Fyros government has just decided, in partnership with a wealthy Fyros businessman, that Kitins, the goo, and other such trivial pass-times are no longer a priority. "We will build the largest casino that Atys has ever seen, right here, in the heart of Pyr," the Emperor was quoted as saying.

Earlier this month, following several reports and an in-depth investigation, the tax authorities had noted concerns that the Brotherhood of the Fortunate Gubani has been involved in illegal money laundering. "Our city can no longer tolerate these illegal gambling dens, set up in bars by this shady group of Trykers," the lead investigator told to our reporter, "they will be deported from the city."

An inside source has provided us with detailed plans of the new casino, which is slated to be built soon. It will be located in the historical area of Cheapside Market, which is already being scheduled to be torn down.

The casino will be the only one to be legally licensed by the Fyros government to operate within city limits.

"The city guards of Pyr are the best on Atys, and will be set to prioritize the safety of the casino, for the comfort of it's guests," according to a top ranking official, "Our casino will provide hundreds of games, the highest quality liquors from Thesos, and premium class private rooms."

(OOC: This post is inconsequential roleplay, and hopefully in no way reflects any actual future direction of the game.)

[FR] journal d'une homine sans importance.

Neeis — Mon, 01 Apr 2019 09:49:56 +0000

[FR]

Tria, Folially 27, 4th AC 2602

=> Ne suis allé à Thesos avec Serae Wu She-Peng.
C'était la première fois que ne me rendais dans cette cité depuis mon enlèvement.
Nous cherchions un Ktheros qui travail pour la Firme.

nos sacs étaient Lourd.

Quand nous l'avons enfin trouvé, Nous nous sommes approchés.
Son uniforme de garde était sale, et l'Odeur était à la hauteur de la crasse. Ses cheveux graisseux brillait au soleil, ses armes n'étaient pas entretenues...

Bref, nous avons négocié avec un homin qui doit être la lie de cette société primitive.
Cela m'a permis de revoir ma perception de cette société. Si on Considère leurs élites il n'est pas surprenant que cela descende si bas...

Après notre départ ce Fyros était beaucoup plus riche, espérons qu'il en profite pour se laver!

Sous la surface

Sylede — Sun, 17 Mar 2019 10:18:28 +0000

Sylede s'inclina et quitta l'assemblée des nobles discrètement.

Il ne lui fallut que quelques mètres pour se rendre compte qu'il était suivi. Il pressa d'abord le pas et pris un chemin de traverse pour sortir de la ville. Puis il couru jusqu'à l'agent des îles de la forêt qui dans un premier temps ne voulu pas le laisser passer. La trykette se rapprochait. Sylede dévoila rapidement son emblème et s'engouffra dans le tunnel...

Il traversa le village, la forêt, puis remonta le chemin qui menait vers l'antre de sa Maîtresse. Elle l'attendait.
- Comment cela s'est-il passé, demanda-t-elle ?
- Ils ont l'air perdus. Ils refléchissent mais aucune voix ne semble s'imposer. Ils s'opposent les uns aux autres mais ce ne sont là que de simples mots. Ils manquent d'ambition et de stratégie pour l'avenir.
Sylede baissa les yeux.
- Mais j'ai été imprudent, j'ai dû semer une poursuivante en courant pour revenir jusqu'ici.
Elle leva la garde de son épée et lui frappa violemment le visage, visiblement hors d'elle.
- Imbécile ! Il fallait simplement attendre tranquillement au bar ou au marché qu'elle se lasse de te suivre. En courant tu lui laisses penser qu'elle est une menace pour toi.
Elle reprit son calme et s'assit dans son fauteuil. Sylede garda pour lui son amertume. Elle réflechit. Un vent glacial parcourut la pièce pendant ce qui sembla durer de longues minutes. Enfin elle se leva.
- Viens !
Elle l'amena près du brasero et y jeta une poudre verdâtre. La lumière du feu devint plus intense puis une épaisse fumée se forma.
- Tu dois faire plus attention. Nous devons encore attendre le bon moment. Il faut être patients, dit-elle doucement.
Sylede respira profondément la fumée verte et regarda dans la lumière. Il commença à distinguer deux énormes crocs, puis des pattes...

Loyal sujet de sa majesté

Azazor — Sat, 16 Mar 2019 10:02:38 +0000

Azazor lit le dernier rapport de son espionne.

informations sur différentes maisons matis.

alkiane
zagh : noble, herën (chef?) d'alkiane
Souhaite voir le karan plus souvent, n'apprécie pas ses absences.
nilstilar : noble? bohören (sous chef?) et ambassadeur chez les trykers. A de la rancoeur envers les zoraïs pour avoir été clément envers les maitres de la goo. (note : le nouveau sage "sève" magnanime envers tous les zoraïs)
aylia : noble
kessler : alkiën (troufion?)

la firme
grobilo : simple sujet? Semble "ronchon" et peu porté sur la religion.
timna : trykette, noble, chef de la guilde, revenue dernièrement.
neeis : trykette, vicomtesse par intérim d’avalae, ambassadrice nouvellement nommée à la théocratie.
derwyna : trykette, fille de timna et ser folken di quincy

cara via
arfur : haut officier cara via
loracas : cheffe de guilde

Amazone
zendae : matis noble ? au service des amazones. M'a dans le viseur on ne sait pourquoi.

sans guilde
sylede : sujet matis, herboriste discret.

Autres, non sujets matis:
fleurdetuber: ambassadrice des trykers au royaume. A voulu une ambassade chez les matis. S’est fait refouler comme une malpropre, sauf par nilstilar, qui, si c’était réciproque, ne serait pas contre. Pour le karin aniro, les lois du royaume s'appliquent partout. Mais n'est pas contre un aménagement du bureau de l'ambassadrice.
Kyriann: apprenti ambassadrice auprès de fleurdetuber. A déjà assuré l'intérim. Ne m'aime pas, et c'est réciproque.

Azazor sourit en voyant la dernière remarque de belauren. Il l'aime bien pourtant, lui, la ptite trykette. Mais il faut croire qu'entre homines de même race, il doit y avoir une sorte de concurrence.

En relisant le rapport, il voit deux pistes pour envenimer les relations entre le royaume, la fédération et la théocratie.

- Soutenir la création d'une ambassade chez les matis? Mais cela pourrait se retourner contre l'empire, en voyant des trykers faire la même réclamation pour le sharük. Et il n'a pas envie que les trykers empiètent sur le territoire fyros.

- Sève? Il ne connait pas ce nouveau sage. Il faudra en parler avec Naveruss, elle est ambassadrice chez les bleus. Si ce zoraï préfère défendre sa race avant tout, ce peut être un bon point pour mettre fin à cette tentative de rapprochement des matis avec la théocratie depuis l'affaire de la goo au vide.

Il range le rapport dans un tiroir de son bureau et se verse une rasade de shooki pour l'aider à réfléchir.

[Short Story] Saved by Gubakoo

Luminatrix — Wed, 06 Mar 2019 21:52:03 +0000

for Aleeskandaro

The ShadoWalkers sat around a campfire in the marauder camp, chatting and celebrating. After a long while, the sounds of conversation slowly died down.

“Lumi! You could tell a story!” said Sad.Luminatrix smiled. It had been a long time since someone had wanted to listen to her stories. “Very well. I’ll tell you an old bedtime story. I remember my mother telling it to me before bed. When I was little, it scared more than it made me want to sleep, but I wanted to hear it again every night!”

“Once upon a time, when homins were still quite new to the New Lands, there was a big celebration in Knoll of Dissent. Once it dissipated, all the revelers started getting up and going home. One of them, a young Matis, was too drunk. In the darkness, he thought he was going home but he had, in fact, lost his way.

As he walked through the dark forest, fear came upon him. He heard torbaks howling all around. After some time of what felt like going in circles, he saw a light. He thought maybe the fires of the celebration hadn’t burned out yet and he could return there. He couldn’t be more wrong.

He headed towards the fire. Suddenly, bandits fell upon him. ‘Your dappers or your life!’. He didn’t have any dappers, having spent all of them at the celebration on food and drinks for himself and his companions. ‘Your life then!’ said the bandit boss. The young Matis weighed his options, decided to take the chance and started running. The bandits followed suit. The chase was relentless and he was getting tired. Then he saw a vortex in front of him. He jumped right through.

He found himself in a strange land he had never seen before. It was dark with bioluminescence providing just enough light to see. It was eerily beautiful. He would have liked to spend more time exploring but he heard the bandits behind him and had to go on running.

Exhaustion was taking over him. His lungs were burning, his legs felt like they were made of wood. He knew then that he couldn’t keep running forever. He was quite sure at that moment that he would die. Then, he heard a familiar noise from behind him. Surely, it couldn’t be! He turned around slowly. It was white instead of the usual sandy brown but there was no doubt, it was a gubani! And it had friends...lots of them. There was one bigger gubani in the middle of the herd, colored differently. It was black and looked quite threatening. As he stared at the interesting creature, the herbivores surrounded him, chirping softly.

‘Where did he go?’ he heard. ‘I’m sure he went this way!’, said another voice. They sounded like they were approaching. ‘Boss, what’s this? Are they sick or something? Why are they white?’ - ‘Shut up, he must be here somewhe- I see him! Get him!’ The bandits drew their weapons and closed in on our poor hero. He was, once again, sure that he would die. But wait! What kind of a bedtime story would this be if it ended badly? The strange black gubani stood up on its hind legs and let out a roar that nobody had ever heard from such a peaceful creature before.
‘Umm boss...I don’t think this is a good idea’, said one of the bandits, lowering his spear. The others lowered their weapons as well. ‘Yeah, this here thing could kill us. Some stupid boy who has no dappers anyway is not worth our lives. Let’s get out!’ With that, they started walking away. The bandit boss stayed for a moment, then ran after them, yelling something about useless cowards.

The young Matis man didn’t know what to think. He had always thought gubani cute harmless creatures and now one of them had saved his life. He knew two things for sure, however. Firstly, he would not underestimate gubani anymore. And secondly, he would never walk home on his own while drunk ever again”

Luminatrix finished the story but all she got in response was silence. She looked around her. All her guildmates were fast asleep.

“Well,” she murmured to herself softly. “Maybe it’s a good bedtime story afterall.”

Investigation sur l'usurpateur Wui Yu-Ruz

Kyriann — Wed, 27 Feb 2019 10:03:38 +0000

The sudden arrival of this kirosta, which appeared out of nowhere, had caused Kyriann great concern.
Since then she was looking for a way to protect Siela without him taking offence.

Her meeting with Jyrvie from les Larmes suddenly gave her an idea.
Why don't she hire these mercenaries to keep an eye on Siela. For once they would be used to protect rather than destroy!
Immediately said, immediately done.

Jyrvie agreed to take the request to her leaders.

Now Kyriann was waiting for the answer.

Yet another letter

Zendae — Mon, 25 Feb 2019 15:09:41 +0000

Sitting comfortably in a butterfly-wing fleece-lined armchair, Zendae was quietly pulling on a long, thin pipe as she reflected on Royal politics.

The years had passed, without altering yet another ounce of the firmness of her bearing nor the suppleness of her gait. Homin-a-s keep well admirably, it is well known...
But the ardour that characterized his youth had changed. Probably the extended stay in Yrkanis had gradually transformed the fiery Amazon into a cold calculator.

Her presence among the subjects was now very discreet, spending most of her time secluded for her research. But she continued to be vigilant about the rumours and movements in the kingdom.

And so recently, the fervor that the fyros were using to finish the Thesos barricade had awakened the vassals' concerns.

"What a stupid idea to attack this futile screen!" cursed the Amazon aloud.

Since fashion was to send letters to Karan, Zendae decided to do the same.

Letter to Karan

Na Karan,

Let me give my opinion as Master of Arms on theshield that the fyros are building south of Thesos.

Strategically, I think this palisade is of almost no use. A wall has never stopped the kitins, as we have known since the fall of Zoran. And even so, the positioning of the wall is absurd, it does not even surround the city. The kitins do not need to touch it, they just have to get out of the bark from the sawdust mines or the canyon.

The same is true for us! Do you intend to attack Thesos, nothing prevents us from teleporting massively north of the wall.

It is only a futile screen, intended simply to give military splendour to Thesos and incidentally to set a trap for the kingdom.

As you were lucidly pleased about when they raised their first tower, they clearly mark the position of their border ! far in their lines.

Just as ours is marked by the positioning of border guards, I would point out. What do we have in between ? warring tribes, a kitin's nest, a marauding camp. Arid matis owe their survival only to their scientific research for the common good. That is how I see the bitter reality.

Their so-called affront would have been of a completely different magnitude if they had disciplined the Woven Bridles and placed the wall at Berello!

What would we gain from attacking the wall?
Let me just doubt that we will win, unfortunately. The risk of being again the laughing stock of other nations is great. And we would be the ones to blame, to attack this facility on their doorstep.

Recently, helping the Zorais in the fight against the goo was one of the best movements the kingdom has ever accomplished, even though it was the Black Circle that gave the final point. Why re-tarnish our image by succumbing to a little provocation? Isn't there a possibility that it could even be calculated to make us put a wrong foot ?

Of course, this is not about sitting back! The best answer to give is in my opinion to finally grow the living barrier around Yrkanis! Which will be much more prestigious and useful than this deadwood palisade.

Sincerely at your service,
Zendae, Master of Arms.

Jena Aiye.

Letter to the Alliance [Some Karavan Guilds/Les Larmes/Some Marauder Clans]

Zendae — Sat, 23 Feb 2019 17:40:48 +0000

* heards a rumor that Northstar does not know how to count over four.
Concludes that one of her fingers must be missing. *

creature observations, not the obvious

Crissi — Sun, 17 Feb 2019 01:38:40 +0000

Missive pour le Karan

Timna — Fri, 15 Feb 2019 20:17:16 +0000

Le secrétaire était tranquillement en train de faire semblant de travailler assis à son bureau quand une petite Trker viens l'interrompre.

- 'Doy, j'ai une lettre pour le Karan.

Sans la regarder, le secrétaire répondit d'un ton las.

- Merci d'adresser vos réclamations à votre ambassadeur, madame.
- Monsieur, sachez que vous vous adressez à une noble du Royaume. Si vous tenez à votre carrière, surveillez qui vous êtes en train d'insulter par votre comportement désinvolte.

Le secrétaire, paniqué, leva les yeux de son papier et vit alors son interlocutrice : la dirigeante de la Firme et, effectivement, noble du Royaume.

- Pardonnez ma maladresse, filirae! Veuillez me transmettre votre missive, et je verrais à la faire remonter jusqu'au Karan.

Timna lui tendit la lettre et quitta la pièce en s'adressant au fonctionnaire :

- Seelagan Ser, tâchez de mieux vous compter la prochaine fois. Je ne serais pas toujours aussi gentille.

Le secrétaire regarda la missive qu'il devait faire remonter à son supérieur, qui lui même déciderai si oui ou non le Karan devait la lire.

Nair Karan,
J'ai été récemment mise au courant du projet des Fyros de construire des fortifications au niveau de Thesos et sa région. Je vous demande formellement d'agir contre ce projet : ces fortifications sont outrancièrement provocatrices : comme si l'Empire possédait des ennemis si flagrant du côté de Thesos mais pas de Dyron! Elles seraient pour protéger des kitins? Mais il existe un accès vers les primes racines à Dyron, pas à Thesos! An, il est évident que l'Empire prépare la guerre contre ses voisins de l'Est, nous.
De plus, un tel comportement ne peut qu'inciter les autres nations à faire de même et à se replier sur elles-mêmes. Même si j'ai confiance dans le fait que le Royaume saura éviter les travers du protectionnisme, j'ai peur qu'une telle construction fasse des émules.
Et le protectionnisme est une très mauvaise chose pour ma compagnie, fleuron de l'économie et du commerce du Royaume.
Nair Karan, au nom de La Firme et de l'ensemble des commerçants et artisans du Royaume, je vous demande d'intervenir pour faire cesser cette mascarade.
Jena Aiye, Matis Aiye
Timna Di Quincy
Directrice de la Firme
Noble du Royaume