ROLEPLAY - Ryzom Community Forum https://app.ryzom.com//app_forum/ Wed, 18 Jun 2025 23:52:45 +0000 ryApp::FeedBuilder 15 ROLEPLAY - Ryzom Community Forum https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum//images/rz_ryzom_logo-144x47.png https://app.ryzom.com//app_forum/ <![CDATA[Sur la route...]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/33378/30#210974 Wed, 18 Jun 2025 13:26:00 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/210974 ]]> Lothie <![CDATA["Rising from the Storm: Aelyne's Path to the Light".]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/33339/8#210972 Tue, 17 Jun 2025 13:26:38 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/210972
Watch on Ilinae


In the soft shadow of the sleeping room,
Aelyne keeps watch, a fragile figure on the edge of a dream,
Breath suspended, heart bursting with silence.
Face bathed in shy moonlight,
Her eyes take in Ilinae's fragile peace,
As if that single breath could shatter the universe.

In the depths of his thoughts, like an ancient whisper,
Memories of gold and mist come flooding back.

"One evening, in the arms of Fleur, a tender and sure uncle,
Cradling his falls, caressing his childhood fears,
"Hush, my little one, the world is sweet, don't be afraid..."
His voice, a refuge from oblivion."


"Then Canillia, with hands offered, a wooden sword,
The light weapon against the shadows of imaginary kitins,
A smile like sunshine, a courage ready to be born,
The tender weight of a gift laden with hope."


"Kyki, in the garden," mother Tryker bursts into laughter,
Catch-yubo, dance and sun that caresses the skin,
Innocence floating in the wind, soft and elusive."


A tightness in her heart pulls her towards this fragile present,
This dwelling, neither home nor refuge, where the cold stares
It locks him into a role of shadow and silence.
She guesses, behind the frozen smiles,
Filira Copal's clear, invisible refusal.

Then, like a pure radiance, the truth bursts forth:
She can't stay there, trapped in a soulless setting.

She is Aelyne, Pom's daughter, born into light and strength,
And for Ilinae, for herself,
It's time to chart a new course,
Away from pretense and invisible chains.

Gently, she places her hand on the child's peaceful forehead,
A protective gesture full of whispered promises:

"I won't stay here...
Senn y ny-An-Tali."
]]>
Aelyne
<![CDATA[diary of a (very) young Fyros]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/33392/5#210971 Tue, 17 Jun 2025 12:01:58 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/210971
6 Mystia 1st CA 2634

oren pyr small notebook

It's hard to write anything today, since I know Mom will never read these lines now.

I was able to sleep through the night at the barracks, but I think I cried in my sleep. My eyes are all dry and my pillow is damp

I have to be a great fyros and keep training, with Ran for example. To make Mom proud of me, of where she is.
]]>
Bonanza
<![CDATA[A guest he could have done without]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/33325/10#210965 Mon, 16 Jun 2025 17:16:04 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/210965
]]>
Cinabre
<![CDATA[O'Tall]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/32919/23#210961 Sat, 14 Jun 2025 14:09:08 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/210961 [Yrkanis - Lochi Embassy, Fleur de Tuber's personal office. Quiet night. Only an oil lamp trembles on the corner of the desk].

The office was not the elegant one, decorated with spiral plants, where Fleur received Matis dignitaries and official visitors. This was the den. The hushed, chaotic heart of her personal operations. Piles of parchments piled high, held in balance by obstinacy alone. An old, half-open cupboard with folded maps dangling from it. In the center, the great gnarled wooden desk, chiselled like the hands that inhabited it.

Fleur de Tuber leaned in, his binoculars sliding steadily along his muzzle. He would pull them up with a raspy forefinger, resume his reading, then absentmindedly light his Zoraï herb pipe, which he forgot to maintain and which died quietly, like an ill-formulated doubt.

First, he drew from a roughly sealed envelope a letter from Avendale. Recognition was immediately evident in the small grin on his face.

"Lettre d’O’Tall — griffonnée à la hâte"
Direct, unadorned writing, bordering on legible scribbling.

Fleur,

Here's what I've got.

The engineer's name is Cains. An old Tryk, a bit dry, but not the type to make trouble.
He carried gears in his toubs, nothing really exciting except maybe a still carboy.

Airmythe guy from Concierge Services we've seen, it's just wind: smiling, but hollow, and not very clean.
He tried to rip us off on the fees, but we set the record straight.

Flascoone of the company's two bosses, came in person to fetch old Cains.
I couldn't understand why a director would go out of his way for this, especially at this hour.

No proof of scheming, but my stomach's talking.
And then he tells me that it stinks.

O'Tall.



Fleur put the letter down again, the dying pipe on her lips, her eyes half-closed.
He rummaged under a pile and pulled out a much thicker, discreetly sealed folder.

Marked with a small sign at the bottom: a ploder leaf folded in half - the discreet emblem of his little frippos.

He opened it. The smell of slow-drying paper, fine inks and sifted waxes came back like a memory of happy espionage.
"Extrait du rapport de contre-analyse – Cellule informelle (Code : P-FL)"
To: Fleur de Tuber Ambassador
Classification : Confidential - Not for official archiving

Subject: Company activityConcierge Services"inconsistencies and weak signals
  • Present at Flasco Frigo (declared manager) on site: a priori harmless escort mission.
    → Abnormal observation: Flasco personally receives a low-profile engineer. Blatant mismatch with his status
  • .Cains TryckersaysVent-dru"
    → Old specialist engineer (propellers, distillation, fermentation).
    → Local reputation, work only in the Lakes.
    → Never left his region, serving local tribes
  • .Convoy contents :
    → Identified components :
    • Gears
    • Turbine parts
    • Parts of an industrial still
    → No conventional machine requires these elements simultaneously, except for devices for production or processing.
  • Inconsistencies in "Concierge Services" :
    → Increase in "off-catalogue" orders.
    → Informal recruitment.
    → Workers engaged briefly then disappeared.
    → Profiles: isolated, various trades (carpentry, mechanics, crystal)
  • .Questionable history :
    Flasco Frigo is a compulsive gambler.
    → Liabilities: +900,000 dappers.
    → Creditors linked to "asset reclaimers" (cf. old files Gha'an-K).
  • Indirect connection: Sylede - Flasco?
    → Several creditors are linked to Sylede.
    → The latter distinguished himself at the christening of the heir's daughter.
End of report.
R.P.6. / Cellule P-FL (Petit Frippo, 6th district)


Instruction : Waiting for our Father's guidance.


---

Fleur sighed.
He tugged on the unlit pipe.
Raised his binoculars, readjusted them on his wrinkled muzzle, and murmured:

"And here I thought I was dealing with a potion and herbarium delivery boy..."
He gently closed the file, his eyes half-closed.

"A botched engineer, an over-involved manager, missing workers, a wind turbine and a still... and I'm out of tobacco."

He rolled his chair to a drawer, pulled out a raspy Zoraï herb, packed it into his old pipe, relit it - to no avail.

Fleur (grumbling):
"Even you don't want to talk."

Then, in the silence, he scribbled on a piece of parchment:
"Review Gha'an-K files.
Profile the unknown Matis.
Keep track of recent movements at Concierge Services.
Don't tell O'Tall...yet."

He wedged the paper between two volumes, in a secret compartment of the desk.

Tuber flower knew.
He may not have held all the pieces yet, but the first shadows had been drawn on the canvas.
And they had a rancid smell that not even Zoraï herbs could mask.


He extinguished the oil lamp with the back of his hand.
The shadow swallowed the walls, leaving only the pipe to glow one last time.
Silence returned.
]]>
Fleurdetuber
<![CDATA[Sous la surface]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/29501/6#210959 Fri, 13 Jun 2025 16:43:26 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/210959 Cains was delighted with the wild ride along the winding roads leading from Avendale to Yrkanis. Like any self-respecting tryker, he had quickly recognized the Bai Nhori Drakani insignia worn by his friendly escort. The equally charming Airmy had chosen them well, and Cains immediately felt at ease. Cains, who had never left the Lochi, had seized the opportunity to find a job in Yrkanis, as well as the chance to make a nice trip.

Until then, he'd mostly built wind machines for tribes, brewing machines or taffy machines in Byrh. This would surely be different in the forest, not in Byrh, but the recruiter had promised that there were plenty of materials and tools available. On the other hand, it was still necessary to bring the base of a large wind machine, as well as a still. The rest wasn't very clear, but it promised to be an exciting project.

Cains loved tinkering with little machines. He'd taken the opportunity to test out his new firefly box, a portable mini firefly scanner that he wore around his neck. Unfortunately, his device hadn't liked the big paw of a huge cuttler on the border of the fleeting garden, and the lucios of all the beautiful places they'd passed since Avendale were largely unusable.



In Yrkanis, the dashing Flasco had installed him in a picturesque Matis apartment. House-trees were a curious thing for the old tryker, but he felt at home here. After a good night's rest, he set about restoring his luciograph to working order and was soon out and about visiting the Matisse capital and its surroundings...

]]>
Cains
<![CDATA[The smell of sulfur]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/33394/8#210957 Fri, 13 Jun 2025 10:02:38 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/210957 The walls no longer glisten: they ooze a black, oily liquid, pulsing like a wound.
The white light, raw, violent, falls from a ceiling without source. No logic.

She's waiting for me.

The other.
She looks at me like a defective tool.
Cold. Calculating. Perfectly still.
Her eyes are dry. Infinitely dry.

She doesn't need to shout.

I want to step back, but my legs don't belong to me anymore.
I want to speak, but my mouth sneers - a terrible, grating laugh, not mine.
- "You're an emotional parasite.
A useless relic.
You're slowing me down."

All that's left of my body is pure terror.
Each fragment of me dissociates, crumbles.
And my hands... are no longer mine.

I see her get up.
It cuts through our distorted memories, like a blade slipping between two ribs.
- You are the loophole through which they always enter.
You're the voice that doubts when it's time to act.
You're the one who hesitates when it's time to kill.
You're putting Lea in danger.
You put all in danger."

I hold out a hand - a last gesture - but already I'm a blur.
My skin is fading.
My memory is dissolving.
I'm dying here.
Or worse - to be replaced.

I can see myself screaming.
Running.
Falling into a white light that eats away at me.

The cry bursts into the night


Canillia sits up violently in bed, plucked from the nightmare like a bottomless pit.
His eyes are wide and bloodshot.
She gasps like a hunted beast.
Her fingernails lacerated the sheets down to the flesh.
She doesn't know where she is anymore.

His heart pounds. Irregular. Insane.
- "NO! I'm still here! I'M STILL HERE!!!"

Léa grabs her, squeezes her, tries to bring her back.
But Canillia struggles. Claws. Screams an unknown name.
His voice is hoarse, broken, foreign.

Then she collapses.
Léa held her back, trembling.

Canillia sobs. Violent hiccups from another age.
- "I... I was gone... She... chased me away... like trash..."

Léa cradles her, stammering empty words.
But his gaze is frozen. Terrified.

It's not just a crisis.
Not a bad dream.

It's a return from the dead.

And what she brought back in her eyes...
Is he really still home?]]>
Canillia
<![CDATA[gey-zas depyr]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/33362/5#210943 Tue, 10 Jun 2025 19:03:51 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/210943
"Dad? Do you really think they'll accept our passage?

- I don't know. They did it the first time. They did it the first time, there's no reason for it to change.

- But didn't you say you killed a bastard to save Mom? Do you think they've forgotten?

- It doesn't have to be dead; they also have resurrection at home. Zinuaken are installed there. But like all resurrection, it's not automatic, especially since he may have been beyond their reach.

- So we risk being captured? Or even executed?

- I doubt it. They're not bandits. At worst, they'll refuse us passage.

- What will we do then?

- We'll check out the Rangers further south. They probably have a passage to the heights too. We'll just have to convince them to let us use it.

- And if not?

- You ask too many questions, Uzy.

- I anticipate.

- Okay, so if you want to know, I'll offer them information they don't have.

- Ah? What's that? What you've learned from the crados?

- Stop it, Uzy, I don't like it when you call them that. The Atakorum are a respectable and very wise people.

- Yeah... They try to kill you to make you see things worthy of your worst nightmares by making you drink a disgusting liquid into which they all spit.

- Mock me!

- Even the Fraiders are more civilized.

- What do you know about Fraiders? Didn't your mother ever teach you that they were a real source of knowledge behind their gruff exterior? She lived with them for a long time, so she knew what she was talking about.

- Mom never taught me anything, you should know that...

- She would have, if you'd given her a chance.

- But someone killed her before she could change..."



There was a heavy silence for several long minutes. Uzykos thought he might have gone too far. His father didn't like the subject much. Nevertheless, it was he who resumed the discussion.

"She could have survived.

- Really?

- The sacrificial rites of the cult's followers don't work every time.

- Do you know how it works?

- You've got to be kidding. I was never trained for this. All I had to do was cut off her head. I waited in vain for her to dematerialize, like when she got eaten by a prakker. But not this time...

- Mommy got eaten by a prakker?!

- Yep, right in front of my eyes. I had his legs in my hands and the rest of my body in the monster's mouth."

Uzykos turned pale at the image beginning to form in his mind. His father had a way of telling absolutely despicable things with the utmost detachment. The young fyros preferred to change the subject before Azazor added any more details.

"So, what's this information the Rangers don't have?

- My vision of liquid fire.

- What you learned from the cra... from the atakorum, that's what I was saying.

- If the kamis have sent it to me, it's because it's vital information.

- Even if it's true that there's liquid fire in the depths, what do the Rangers care?

- I've no idea. Maybe it'll match up with what they know. I don't know how far those guys got. Don't be fooled, the Rangers are a bunch of hypocrites who hide a lot of secrets. Do you think they'd share their knowledge of magnetic tunnels? Or the kitins of the Old Lands?

- The head of the Rangers, I don't know what his name is, he's...

- Barmie Dingle.

- Yeah, well, you're the one who told me he'd given you a briefing on flamboyants before setting off on the road to Oflovak.

- We were forced to leave despite their attempts to dissuade us. You have to shake the Rangers up and play on their hominism to get them to spill their guts. And even then, only in dribs and drabs.

- Mom was a Ranger."

As he did so, he looked down at his feet and said nothing else. Azazor saw a certain sadness in his reference to his mother. And for the fourth time in the conversation, he called her mom, not "my mother". She had had to die for him to love her at last.

"Trytonnist my son. Trytonist. And mercenary. Like much of the Tears Guild."



They walked on for some time, saying nothing. Eventually, however, Uzykos asked the burning question.

"Dad, really, why do you want to go back there? Okay, there's stuff to discover, all that stuff. But then what? Do you think the Emperor will forgive you if you bring back another amber cube?

- I don't care about forgiveness. Just as I don't care about the Empire. What I care about is the future of my people.

- And why does his future require us to go to the Old Lands?

- The Empire exists for a single purpose. It's not the best system for living in peace. The Trykers are very happy in their federation. Much happier than we are. But for our quest, that of the fyros, the Empire is the most effective.

- Let me guess... fyrak?

- Yes, we must unlock the secret behind the myth of the Great Dragon. Our entire existence is dedicated to this quest. And for that, we need an Empire and an Emperor at its head. Someone to guide us and remind us of our duty every day. Our hope that this quest will reach its goal. If Lykos dies without descendants, it's because he has forgotten this. An Emperor is a merchant of hope.

- And what about you? Do you think you'll find the end of the quest in the Old Lands?

- Some of it. Enough to rekindle hope and the thirst for research. For without this quest, we might as well become federalists and live carefree.

- Like trykers?

- Yeah, like those damn trykers. But you know, they'll outlive us all.

- What do you mean?

- I'm convinced that each people has its uses. For the Matis, it's to get closer to the Karavan in order to better betray them. They will recover from them certain secrets that will be useful for our independence from the Powers. They may even help protect us from them. For while karavan seeks to save homins, it also keeps them in the dark. And I doubt she'll appreciate it if we emancipate ourselves from her.

- Zoraïs are the same, but with kamis?

- Almost. Without kamis, I don't think we can exist. They are life. But there is, I hope, a fine line between emancipating ourselves from kamis and becoming their slaves.

- Slave?

- Yes. Having been a devotee of kamis for decades, I can tell you that too much veneration is a straitjacket. So it's up to the Zoraïs to get to know the kamis, to know what they want. It's up to them to become slaves. The better to help us live not as part of Ma-Duk, but alongside the kamis, as equals.

- Trykers?

- Wait, I'll get to it. To the fyros first. To them belongs the ultimate quest, to strike down the Great Dragon once they've found it. They'll need the knowledge of the matis and zoraïs. But they'll also need allies in battle. Resourceful allies.

- Those damn trykers!

- That's right, those damn trykers and their stupid inventions. Those damn Trykers and their camaraderie. But also, their fickleness. Because when the final battle against fyrak takes place, I'm sure the trykers will do something stupid that will save their lives and result in the sacrifice of fyros. All fyros.

- Huh?

- The matis will also die, or make a pact with what's left of the karavan to save their skins. The Zoraïs will be saved, but swallowed up in Ma-duk. The fyros, the bravest people, will burn in the liquid fire of fyrak. And the trykers, freed from the Powers and fyrak, will be able to enjoy Atys in their usual carefree way."

Uzykos laughed heartily. It was the first time his father had told him this tall tale. He'd heard some crazy theories from him, but never to this extent. He knew his father had a tendency to exaggerate. But in this case, he was overdoing it.

"This vision of the future for all the peoples of Atys, did your trip to the Crados bring it to you?

- Under normal circumstances, you'd have picked up for your lack of respect."

Uzykos swallowed, expecting the bellows.

"But not this time. It's true I'm going a bit too far for someone your age, who hasn't seen anything yet."

The coldness of his tone and the words his father used almost made him wish he'd taken one. As some guy had said, words sometimes hurt more than blows. He didn't say another word until the evening, pondering everything he'd told him, even though he knew it was a load of crap. After all, so far, his father had rarely been wrong.]]>
Azazor
<![CDATA[The splendors of the Legion]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/33260/7#210933 Sun, 08 Jun 2025 21:38:22 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/210933
Lyren had nothing else to do. Thinking. Months alone, wearing the Legions' insignia, dusting off the hall and talking to herself. Changing the course of the historic Fyros Legions, making them karavaneers, with all that that entailed... Was it a good decision? What had really changed? Not much, really. The karavan asked little of her, apart from dappers, the other karavaners had (thankfully?) ignored her a little, and the Fyros empire had barely reacted, apart from a few eyebrows being raised here and there.
Frustrating. The feeling of being invisible, coupled with the impression that the empire had lost all reason to be indignant about the situation. Was Kamism within the empire really that bad?

It had to be said, too, that attention had been focused for a time on Uzykos' father and Lyren's father-in-law. The now infamous Azazor, former leader of the Fyros Legions, who had turned out not to be a true follower of the great dragon, but simply an honest Fyros who had set out to infiltrate and fight them, had been forced to attempt to poison the emperor, killing Lyren and Uzykos's mother in the process. Azazor, hero. Azazor, murderer of the mother of his own son... Who in any case was being held by the followers of the Great Dragon, and therefore condemned sooner or later to certain death. What a story, what irony. Not to mention that Emperor Lykos had forgiven the homin for everything. So to be surprised at how little trouble Lyren had caused, by changing the allegiance of the Legions... They had plenty of other yubos to beat. Then Azazor had gone back to the Old Lands, followed by Uzykos. Go figure. Crazy family.

Still, Lyren had far too much time to think, every day, over and over again, wondering if she'd really made the right choice, what she could have done differently, and feeling more and more useless to the world around her. Strength and glory, cal i selak!... No, for the moment, rather detraz i nukum. Silence and depression.


In stories like this, a paragraph has to start with something like: "And one fine day...", doesn't it? Here it is, look it up.

And then one day, Bonanza appeared. A very young fyros, a little lost, with a story as incredible as it was moving. A little homin who waited with hope for her mother, who had left years ago to "fight fyrak". Fighting fyrak... Lyren opened the doors of the Legions' hall for her, unable to let her continue sleeping in a corner of the forge as she was doing. Bonanza did her best, and Lyren arranged a rite for her, to let her become a true legionnaire, so that her mother would be proud of her when she returned. All of a sudden, Lyren had much less time to think about her wall. New prospects were glimmering on the horizon. Already helping this young fyros, and turning his thoughts to a way of explaining to her what adults understood when they spoke of fighting fyrak... What that expression really meant.]]>
Lyren
<![CDATA[Last hunt, last fall]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/33386/1#210880 Tue, 27 May 2025 21:40:29 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/210880 In front of the Great and the Noble, those with the power and the keys in hand, the masters of the game, stories flew, exploits resounded, but they didn't lend an ear.
Then it will be their children who listen to his adventures: Les Douzes Travaux du Masque Mauve (The Twelve Labors of the Purple Mask). They don't need to believe it.
Yes, that's right. But for the Great Ones to believe it, he would have had to believe it himself. The warrior was born and died under the pen of a tired Zoraï.

What are honors? What's all that money worth? All those jewels?

The depths of the mossy cave are increasingly shaded.
The page is turned, another book takes flight.

A Life for the forestNaetyniel.]]>
Qiibiao
<![CDATA[fatigué de courir]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/26389/65#210870 Mon, 19 May 2025 21:28:22 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/210870 Politely greeting his father and the other guards as they passed.
Continue to his apartment and find a courier at the door.
The usual return from a day at the Royal Archives.


The seal on the message was more surprising.
Copal frowned slightly as he identified her.
He was not an ambassador to the Federation. Why was the Tryker ambassador to Yrkanis writing to him rather than Ser Cinabre?
The messenger had already left. But the addressee's name was his.
It wasn't a delivery error.
Copal walked through the door of his apartment with a dark sense of foreboding.


Settle into the calm of your office.
Unseal the envelope and read the contents.
Once. Then a second.
Copal leaned back in his chair to think.


The problem wasn't the ambassador's habit of making a mystery out of a simple request.
He wanted a private interview. So be it.
Copal closed his eyes and lightly massaged his temples.


He was not particularly attached to justice or fairness. Whatever the ambassador was implying.
And flaunting his credentials or appealing to his supposed wisdom were equally useless devices.
As for the fate of a young homine...
Annoyance was certainly not the feeling the ambassador had hoped to arouse in his interlocutor. But Copal had had time to explore the full range of emotions on the subject.


He straightened up and took the letter back to read it again.
No, it was all a blur to him.
But the problem around which the ambassador was circling as carefully as a Tryker around a rotating barrel of bhyr was likely to affect him personally.
Not to mention that Karan hadn't knighted him just to keep his Archives.
His quill and inkwell were ready at all times. It didn't take him more than a moment to write a brief reply.]]>
Copal
<![CDATA[First hunt, first fall]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/33379/1#210852 Tue, 13 May 2025 09:39:30 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/210852 My father, whose only remaining memory was my mother, sobbing, on her knees in the snow, a little girl clutching her tightly to protect herself from the cold...
An old house in the working-class district of Yrkanis.
Endless stories by the fireside, by my mother's side.
This short life was coming to an end here...

Maman....

She was very religious, deeply attached to the cult of the Light. She taught me the basics, without me paying much attention. Her piety came to my rescue that day, as I was alone, hunting far from home, on my first outing.

I found myself bloodied, covered in the dirt thrown up by the horrible beast. A hunter turned prey, whose lacerated, weary body awaited the coup de grâce.
A sudden flash of lightning struck me. The beast groaned and collapsed in a farandole of white sparks. I sank into the sleep before death.

A slow, steady pitch woke me up. Through my heavy eyelids, I could make out a whitish coat, bandages on my skin, a blue-skinned figure guiding the animal. I'd never seen a Homin of this sap. Our procession was approaching a city in the Kingdom, perhaps Davae, or Avalae, I don't know.
I was stunned when the guide turned around. He had no face! A purplish mask covered him completely. His large arms lifted me up and carried me into his chambers. I didn't dare say a word, even though my tongue itched. As I lay drowsily on a bed, my vision blurred and I drifted off into a restless sleep.

The beast was there, menacing and ferocious, towering over the hill with its broad legs, its claws digging into the ground, ready to seize its prey. It was growing in leaps and bounds. A dust storm surrounded me. Other beasts, mouths wide open, approached. They grabbed my limbs and tried to tear me apart. The pain was unbearable. The great beast approached confidently, its skin white and hairy. It wore a purple mask, and began to cackle wickedly. Its sardonic laughter took the place of the swirling wind and invaded the plain. The dust turned to snow, my mother still weeping, my father's footsteps mingled with those of the beast. The ground shook heavily, and a torrential downpour fell on me.

The monsters disappeared, the storm subsided and the clouds gave way to tree branches. A damp cloth covered my forehead and head. He turned to me, glared and said, "What were you doing in the clutches of that gingo?"

A Life for the forestNaetyniel.]]>
Qiibiao
<![CDATA[Canillia Altae Di Sylengi homine aux doigts agiles]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/30323/92#210702 Fri, 04 Apr 2025 08:20:04 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/210702 The shadows were his allies, every dark corner a potential hiding place.
She knew the city like the back of her hand, every hidden passage, every secret entrance.
Her objective: the Lakes embassy, where she knew Fleur de Tuber, her mentor and long-time friend, was working late.

After defeating the security devices and forcing the locks of the discreet service entrances,
she entered the Tryker embassy she knew so well.
Without hesitation, she slipped through with the agility of a feline.
The corridors were deserted, with only the distant echoes of the guards.
She progressed cautiously, avoiding lit areas, until she reached Fleur's office.

The door was ajar, revealing the flickering glow of a battered old Tryker lamp.
The hominin slipped in quietly, settling into the shadows and waiting patiently.
Later, footsteps echoed in the corridor.
Fleur entered, closing the door behind him, before jumping at the sight of the figure sitting in his armchair.

- Lake winds, Cani! You almost gave me a heart attack.

Canillia smirked, rising gracefully to her feet.

- Sorry, Fleur. Old habit...

Fleur shook her head, a mixture of amusement and exasperation in her eyes.

- One day, your "old habits" will get you into trouble.

She shrugged, then her expression became more serious.

- I have something important to show you.

She took a folder out of her bag and handed it to Fleur.
He took the document, opened it and scanned the lines, his face closing as he read.

- This is the file and contract which, under the name Hubae, binds Aelyne to Ore Altae.

Fleur looked up at Canillia, a worried gleam in her eyes.

- How did you get this?

She looked away slightly, hesitant.

- Let's just say I had to use some... unconventional means.

Fleur sighed, running a hand through her graying hair.

- Cani, do you realize the risks you've taken?

She nodded, determined.

- For Aelyne, it was worth it.

A silence hung between them, laden with unspoken words and shared memories.
Fleur placed the document on her desk, crossing her arms.

- All right, then. We've got that contract. What do you propose now?

Canillia approached, placing a hand on the desk, her gaze locked on Fleur's.

- You're his uncle, his only close relative.
To all appearances, Ore Altae no longer has any proof of its contractual relationship with Aelyne.
It's up to you to decide what you want to do with it.

Fleur closed her eyes for a moment, weighing the weight of this responsibility.
When he opened them again, a new resolve shone through.

- Okay, Cani. I'll think about it. But promise me one thing.

She inclined her head, attentive.

- More... "unconventional" methods.
We need to proceed with caution.

Canillia smiled mischievously.

- Oy, Fleur, but you know me, I can't promise you anything.

He sighed again, but a smile softened his features.

- Go on, off you go before someone sees you here, and give Lea a kiss for me.

She nodded, then, in one fluid movement, disappeared like a draught, leaving Fleur alone with his thoughts and the contract.]]>
Canillia
<![CDATA[The flight of an ocyx]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/33101/7#210691 Tue, 01 Apr 2025 12:08:02 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/210691
The disappearance of Eeri, her mother, shortly after she returned from the Old Lands and was finally able to get to know her. The research, leads and information she'd passed on to the Trytonists, who hadn't arrived in time. Her decision to return to the Old Lands, no longer able to hold a dagger. A departure that would never take place.

Then, all the false leads, or rather, everything that can never be proven again. Had she really undergone an operation at the hands of Mazé'Yum, her old friend the Zoraï scholar, an ambiguous and controversial hominin? And if so, had the operation been successful, had she regained the use of her arm? How and when had she found herself at the mercy of the followers of the cult of the Great Dragon? Why had they kept her alive? Had she also tried to infiltrate them?

Then Azazor's disappearance, his return, his trial, his confession. The confession of having killed with his own hands the mother of his own son, held by the Sect of the Great Dragon, so that he could better infiltrate and fight them. Game over for Eeri, Tryker citizen. A high-ranking Fyros member of the Adepts was unmasked but had fled, Sharükos had decided to let Azazor go free, the homins of the federation wanted justice.

And Lyren... She just wanted to find peace. Above all, it was time for farewells, time for tears, time to know that her mother was free of the weight that life had become since her return. The ceremony had to be neutral, free and peaceful, in her image. It needed essence of oxyx, shooki, byrh, friends, enemies, carefree. It was time to let the ocyx fly.]]>
Lyren
<![CDATA[Chroniques de la Firme]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/27459/17#210671 Sat, 22 Mar 2025 12:39:02 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/210671 Personal notes following the assembly of the nobles of Holeth, Nivia 24, 4th CA 2632

Duke had left the meeting with a slight headache that had turned into a dull, throbbing pain over the next few hours. He took a sedative and lay down on his bed.
His sleep, far from restful, was nothing but reminiscences of the past and hallucinatory delirium: the black sky of the prime roots weighed on his chest; lanterns danced around him as he was caught in tangles of prickly brambles; a strange homine bent over his face, goo fumes billowing from her mouth; Stevano looked down on him as he sat on his throne; grimacing masks threatened and smiled at him at the same time, then darkness invaded him completely, he fell endlessly...
He woke up panting and sat up, trying to put his thoughts back in order. His memory was playing tricks on him, and certain things were escaping him.

Masks... He saw the wise Saison again, old friends gone, Rook sometimes kind, sometimes torn by madness, Shepeng and Zhan laughing together, Siela in love...

Cinabre's appointment, still hesitant and awkward, had brought back memories of his own accession to the post of ambassador to the Kingdom, many cycles before.

Tria, Folially 15, 3rd AC 2587 - Anoblissement et nomination au poste d'ambassadeur auprès de la Théocratie
At the time, the Kingdom was questioning its organization, the place of the nobility and its role for the forest people. Karan Stevano had launched a kind of consultation among his subjects, and had promoted a number of deserving matis to renew the governing bodies. Duke, like the others, had the privilege of giving his opinion directly to Duke Rodi di Varello at an assembly in Avalae.
He had already made great progress thanks to the Firm, and was involved in the Kingdom's affairs with the enthusiasm of youth. It was thus that he was proposed for ennoblement in Stevano by Zakarya di Avalae, known as Zakkk, the wise old ruler of his House.
He presented himself as best he could, given the embarrassment he felt, knowing he was still so far from his masters and teachers, and the excellence he was aiming for himself. "A humble matis, now that's something!" the Karan had said. But for Duke it was mostly realism, there was still so much to accomplish...
Then came the chance to represent the Kingdom before the Theocracy, an opportunity for filira Ducocinnio Nono to respond to the Karan's trust, and for the new nobleman to prove his worth...
]]>
Dukenono
<![CDATA[In his name we kill]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/33291/7#210649 Wed, 05 Mar 2025 08:53:16 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/210649
Son,

By the time you read this letter, I'll have left via the Oflovak Road for the Old Lands. I'll be going to the desert of yesteryear, in the footsteps of a vanished Empire.
But first, I wanted to tell you a few things. I don't think you'll want to talk to me, so I'll put it in writing. Maybe it's better that way after all. So, if you don't want to listen to me, just throw this letter away immediately.

Are you staying? I'm fine. First of all, I'd like to talk to you about your mother. I know you didn't hold her close to your heart. But there are three things I learned from her.
Firstly, she taught me how to fight without saving myself. She really was the most gifted fighter, a real fury. I think Lyren inherited something from her. That animal instinct, that rage to win at all costs. When the stakes are high, sometimes you have to take all the risks.
Then she made me realize that there's a difference between lying and withholding the truth. All truths are good to tell to those you love. But sometimes, there are truths that need to be kept secret for a while. Even if it eats you up inside. For the sake of our loved ones.
Finally, your mother taught me that the road to truth is paved with horrible things. Your mother did a lot of bad things, but always with a good purpose. I'm not going to tell you about her experiences with the frippos she described to me, it's not the kind of thing you put down in writing. But I do know that she always had the quest for knowledge in mind.

I think you know what I mean when I tell you about your mother's qualities. Of course, I'm talking about her sacrifice. I didn't try to explain what I'd done at my trial. No one was really willing to hear the truth. Only Pephoan Kridix listened to me in my cell. I should have trusted him from the start. So in this letter, I'm going to tell this truth to you, my son. The cult of fyrak is the antithesis of fyros culture. They do not seek to fight the dragon, but to awaken it. To do so, they sacrifice homins. And they infiltrate all aspects of Fyros society. Don't think they're content to live in the depths and come out from time to time to kill someone. No, most adepts live in homin societies. Some even have a few responsibilities. You should know that this Pimokos freak, for example, was already high up. He was chief of the Dyron guards. A general! What do you think would have happened if I'd been convicted? He would have become a hero, the one who saved the Emperor. When sharükos died, we might have had a fyrak cultist at the head of the sharük! So, this infiltration probably saved the Empire. But this is the kind of reality we'd rather not see. The sharük is far too sure of its omnipotence to imagine collapsing. And yet, it has never been so weak.

If it takes away my guilt? Of course not. The fact that the cause is just has nothing to do with guilt. For one thing, am I really responsible for your mother's death? Part of me wonders if they captured her on purpose because of me or if she was already their captive. I don't know, and I'll always have this doubt. But you see, someone could certify that she was already their captive before I decided to infiltrate the adepts, and it wouldn't take away this feeling of guilt. For I feel this guilt in the actual killing, in the actual application. You, Lyren, sharükos, no one here, or so few, know what it is to really kill. To kill definitively. So you can imagine that killing one of our dearest loved ones, even if it's for a just cause, is a scar on the soul that stays with us forever. And I take no pride in this scar.

You see, son, I've long thought that we children of the Empire's underbelly were just as honorable as those up above. That we too deserved, by dint of hard work, to experience at first hand the advantages of a life among the elite. But we didn't. Fyros society is such that those who pull their heads out of the sawdust are no different from those who continue to crawl in. You're made to understand this when you dare to get too close to their privileges. You yourself will never be accepted on your own merit. And even if you start from a better starting line than I did at your age, you'll have to fight ten times harder to earn your place. But your place will always be precarious. You'll be an impostor in the eyes of the elite. And in the end, you'll end up doing what society expects you to do. The dirty work. The one without honor, without glory. The thankless job, the one that gives no gratitude. They'll point the finger at you like a murderer, because you dared to do what they wouldn't have dared to do. You'll get nothing. Worse, they'll take away what you've worked so hard to get.

And you see, it doesn't matter. I don't give a damn about their gratitude. I hate them, all of them, these traine-palais, these born goods. The only recognition I can hope to get is from the hard hearts of the sawdust fyros, like us, like your mother. But they won't say anything. This recognition is silent. Eeri and I were always ready to explode our anger. But when it came to showing gratitude, we were rather quiet. And yet, all it took was one look to understand that we loved and respected each other. That's the look I saw in her eyes before I killed her. It's that look, and only that look, that you can expect from sawdust fyros. But it's worth more than all the honors, all the titles, even more than the sacred fire.
Born of sawdust, we'll return to sawdust. That is our destiny. For a fyros must always fight the smoke that lifts him up to return to the depths to fight the dragon. And in this, we, crawling on the ground, already have a head start.

If you've reached the end of this letter, it's because you've improved your ability to concentrate. I want you to know that I'm proud of you, my son. I may have been a terrible father, but I did it for a good cause. And here again, I don't expect any gratitude from you. Being a father means crawling in the sawdust for the good of your offspring, without expecting anything in return. I love you, never doubt that.

On that note, take good care of your half-sister. Tell her that I forgive her for turning the Fyros legions from the yoke of the Kamis to the yoke of the Karavan. I hope that one day she'll understand that the Powers can be dispensed with, as her father and mother understood so well. And that if she wants revenge for my crime, she shouldn't hesitate to cross the road to Oflovak. I'll be happy to welcome her.

Go, follow your destiny, Uzykos, no matter how rough the path. And remember, son, your courage at every step.

Dad
]]>
Azazor
<![CDATA[Bolobyrh]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/33332/2#210647 Mon, 03 Mar 2025 22:34:00 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/210647 Naema <![CDATA[Lorlyn O'Barrel's diary]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/32171/4#210645 Mon, 03 Mar 2025 18:28:14 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/210645 Holeth, Winderly 24, 2nd AC 2626 (19/11/2023)
During the Tryker Assembly, there were only homins dressed up, the building was so beautiful and there was even a new Governor! It was so weird! I still don't know who she was, by the way...

We've taken stock of the water route: we're back on our own, with no help from the Fyros! And with none of the promised rewards! They're so mean! Free labor? This is slavery!!! Sella! They didn't share anything! Not even a dapper!
I was told to complain to the Fyros! I already did that last time, but... This time it'll be clearer! I pull out the bill:
- resource harvesting: 100,000 dappers
- pick wear: 60,000 dappers
- barrel price: 80,000 dappers
- Mektoubs food: 70,000 dappers
- risk-taking on the unescorted return trip to Fairhaven: 200,000 dappers
That's a total of just 510,000 dappers. Friendly prices!
That's okay, it's not much for what it's worth... And I haven't counted the wear and tear on the boots and the repayment of my personal barrel reserve, but I like them so it's a gift!

Ostium, Jazzy and Ashgan taught me that my Byrh is too good and that it's just different from Ba''s, so don't compare it! TOR BYRH !!!!
So I drank my first bottle of Byrh in far too long, and... PAF! Ailan took back her place as Governor! Everyone's back to normal! And the ground is red again! YOUPIIIII!

Then they talked about taking away my ! In fact, they explained to me that I shouldn't have said we were going to starve when it wasn't true... But they scared me there too, with their not happy faces ! I panicked!

Quinteth, Mystia 5, 2nd AC 2626 (03/12/2023)


It's official! I'm no longer a Kamist! But I'm still going to use Kamis teleporters as much as possible, because the Karavan helping the slavers... Bad guys! I don't want it!

Dua, Harvestor 20, 4th AC 2626(04/01/2024)


Held by the Bolobi

Dua, Floris 26, 3rd AC 2632 (18/02/2025)


Azazor tried to poison the Emperor?! I don't believe it! Aza isn't like that! Aza's a good guy, and good guys don't poison people! But he said it himself... He's lying, isn't he? He hasn't really become a "Fyrakist", has he? A follower of Fyrak, the Grand Dragon Tout Choupi? Well... I don't think he's that Choupi after all... I say, Aza is just pretending! Or maybe someone forced him! But he said he killed in the name of Fyrak... And he was all weird! In any case, it wasn't because of the Goo, it doesn't do that, the Goo...

Holeth, Frutor, 06, 3rd CA 2632 (02/23/2025)


Kurutani showed me the tunnel she'd found to get into the room with the barrel Azazor said he'd poisoned. I've been around Pyr three times without seeing anything, she's too good, Kuru!
Maybe it was the cult of the Big Not-So-Choupi Dragon who dug it. Well, the tunnel, not Kuru! Le Gros Dragon Pas Si Choupi... Why does the Dragon have to be evil? Some say that when he wakes up, it'll destroy Atys... But... it's not that the Big Dragon will destroy Atys! It's just that when he stops sleeping, something will happen! Maybe he's not the bad guy! And first of all, what does the Dragon look like? Does there have to be only one, anyway? What if more than one wakes up? Maybe the Dragon is a Yubo, but his name is Dragon? If we know what he looks like, it's because someone has already seen him; but then, how did he know it was him?

Oh là là... It's all complicated... ! I'm going back to the bar!

Holeth, Nivia 6, 3rd AC 2632 (02/03/2025)


It was Azazor! And there was a member of the Cult of Fyrak among the empire's most important homins (a guard? I don't know, but he got away)! And Aza killed Pas-Ma-Grand-Mère-Eeri! As a sacrifice to enter the cult of Fyrak! He said he did it to infiltrate... But it's not fair! He had no right! That's just mean! Aza's a good guy, but he does bad things! Poor Eeri...
And now Aza is gone. I asked him where, and he said, "Where we should never have gone.
No idea where that is. I thought about the bar, but...

...we'll never see him again, will we?]]>
Lorlyn
<![CDATA[Réveil surprise]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/33137/20#210628 Fri, 28 Feb 2025 17:14:57 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/210628 moved]]> Aelyne <![CDATA["Be quiet. Beware. Enemy ears are listening".]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/33178/23#210596 Tue, 11 Feb 2025 14:11:13 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/210596 Le Cachot

"Cirrus" beckoned the guard to open the door. Resting his axe against the wall, the big homin took out a bunch of keys from his pocket.
Without a sound, the door opened, revealing a dark, narrow room.
Staeflina rose from her straw mattress in the corner, while "Cirrus" leaned against the opposite wall.


"Keeping quiet won't change your situation, Stae. On the other hand, if you give me a detailed report on the whole period of infiltration, we'll come to an arrangement. You don't want to stay in such a dark room until 'your' Jena decides you've suffered enough, do you?"

The master spy remained silent for a few moments.

"What else can you put on the market besides your release? What do you want in exchange? You know me, I'm not that cruel. I know good information when I hear it..."

The answer he got surprised him, but, he thought inwardly: "After all, if it amuses him..."
Emerging from the cell, "Cirrus" joined his valet, who was waiting at the foot of the tower with his mount.

"You will find me a scroll of the Messages from the Temples of Karavan as soon as possible. Strange as it may seem, our tenant wants some reading material."]]>
Cinabre
<![CDATA[Pawn or queen?]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/33313/2#210594 Mon, 10 Feb 2025 20:39:36 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/210594
The young Matis sat down and picked up his izam feather.
Deles silam, filira Copal et serae Liosta.

May Jena bring joy and happiness to your little family!

My sincere congratulations and best wishes for the future to this nityae * serae who has just joined you.

Jena aiye !

--Cinabre Andertini--

]]>
Cinabre
<![CDATA[where is it going?]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/33300/1#210544 Mon, 20 Jan 2025 10:19:34 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/210544 In their midst, a huge fyros in its black armor, honored by the blows, waves its arms and barks at them.

So it was true! Old Varynx is back!

The homine smiles and continues to observe.

He looks great.

She notes that he trains youngsters to survive a kincher attack.
She sees him swinging his heavy axe at the slow-moving students. To her surprise, no deaths, only minor injuries.

Is this him? Ney... I recognize his voice!"

The hominin catches sight of the old fyros, who stops for a moment.
He seems to be looking around for something.
After a few moments, his gaze settled on her as if he could see her...

Time to retire...]]>
Shalla
<![CDATA[Cinnabar, the beginning]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/33234/3#210481 Sat, 21 Dec 2024 13:03:11 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/210481
Cinabre had sat aside and was chatting with a Matisse dressed in mauve and black. Her blond hair was neatly combed and cut short. A dark amber symbol, depicting a tortured tree, was pinned to her doublet.

Finally, Cinabre nodded, and the hominin's features showed their satisfaction.

"Fila, ser Andertini she said in a relieved voice. "You really took an irena off my foot".

The young Matis nodded. The homine pretended to get up and walk away, but half-turning, she added:

"I certainly don't need to recommend absolute discretion... Meria naia, ser Andertini"

]]>
Cinabre
<![CDATA[Kaze Antekami storylines]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/33202/1#210224 Wed, 04 Sep 2024 12:19:33 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/210224 Antekamis Kaze storylines
Kaze Antekamis contact the Federation to join Tryker society and live in the Lochi.
Are they really sincere? What is their real purpose?

A long roleplay story posted on the ryzom wiki

Here you'll find :

- Action! a little

- Roleplay history! enormously

- Chaï and Byrh! immensely

- Devilish plots! with Antekami, you can't expect anything less.

- And for the more curious, information on the Kaze Antekami, on Fakuang, on the Purple ...


Antekamis Kaze storylines


Thank you to all those who have contributed to roleplay on Ryzom.

This sequence of chronicles can sometimes seem a little disjointed, spanning several years of Jena and due to the multiple protagonists involved in the story, sometimes lacking an overall vision of the total story. What's more, several plots have been known to take place at the same time in different parts of the new lands. The compilation of stories may also appear imperfect, but they have been put together in such a way as to provide a comprehensible framework for the reader. Anyone wishing to add a further piece can do so.

The story of Atys continues endlessly ... it's up to you to take part ...

]]>
Eolinius
<![CDATA[Hunted!]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/33199/1#210221 Mon, 02 Sep 2024 08:19:05 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/210221
This silhouette is none other than me, a hominid hunted by a relentless hunter. I flatten out in a shaded area:

"I've escaped kitins and black monsters, and I'll escape him too. him. "

No sound in the vicinity. Several minutes pass, slow and suffocating. Suddenly, a growl is heard, echoed by numerous yelps all around me. A pack of Ragus emerges from the thicket to hunt!

I have to fight. I leap to my feet and thrust my blade into the body of the first attacker. But the others seemed more cunning, surrounding me and approaching me with open jaws, ready to strike. Without warning, they pounce with a single homin on their prey, and I don't know which way to turn. My legs ache as the sharp teeth penetrate my flesh and muscles. I stagger and fall under their weight.

A Ragus has spotted my neck and lunges, but doesn't reach his goal. A detonation sounds and he collapses. Other blows fly, considerably reducing the carnivores. The carnivores finally give up, as their new enemy has not yet shown himself. When they leave the square empty, I smile. A smile that soon fades as it is there, erect, proud and menacing. From his purple mask, he tells me serenely:

"Don't thank me, Horranis wants you all whole and alive."

He changes the ammunition in his revolver. He targets me and, without apprehension, fires a very special bullet into my left arm. I'm overcome by a total emptiness, which lasts for an indeterminate length of time.
I half-open my eyes, my mind still a blur, in a Matisse house, sitting in a corner, surrounded by armed homins. I hear snatches of conversation, most likely about my price, but I'm not sure if it's the right one. it doesn't seem to be satisfied. Knowing him in his usual state, I doubt his anger is pleasant.

Unexpectedly, he was expelled and threatened by the locals. I don't know who I hate more at this moment: those who threaten the man who tracked me down, or these same people who paid for my head. He steps through the door and the warning rings out:

"There are only two kinds of homins, Horranis. Those who pay the agreed price and those who frequent the care of the Powers of Atys."]]>
Qiibiao
<![CDATA[Released from his dungeon...]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/33140/5#210153 Thu, 04 Jul 2024 20:31:15 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/210153 Cinabre <![CDATA[N'ASA, Renaissance]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/33141/7#210110 Sat, 08 Jun 2024 21:22:16 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/210110
I confess: it's not impossible that my own positive assessment of Elke Miko's initiative was influenced by her greeting to my “gracious” contribution.
The fact remains:
— my distrust of “generative pretrained transformers” (who's the trainer?) equals yours (I've never even used one);
— the work carried out on my transcription is an attempt to write a summary, more easily readable and comprehensible (even if sometimes faulty) than a heap of minutes piling up lines and didascalies, but, like all summary work, it is forced to make choices;
— as I was planning to do the exercise in question “by hand” (since I broke my promise to do it for the previous meeting as well), ChatGPT get me out of a tight spot; let's not forget that the ideal homin of Matis people (and, in any case, mine) is a joking, even libertine and, above all, idle aristocrat);
— your contempt for “odds and ends” and your reverence for “serious discussions”, I (like our “returnee” Eloan) am far from sharing: reverence reserved for our Librarian President, I believe (much to your dismay?) that Atys is (and must remain) a place of play and joy, not of “head-scratching”;
— in my opinion, it is precisely Nair Zorro'argh, who is responsible to the Web for our Great Library, who is entitled to decide what can and cannot be published there.

Jena be with you!]]>
Nilstilar
<![CDATA[Atys and its mysteries]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/33155/4#210105 Tue, 04 Jun 2024 10:21:39 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/210105
Kami'ata Nu'o Mi and Pa.

Nu arrived well in Yrkanis.Su trip went li'bien.
Nu regrets that Niu we went earlier. Su is a MAGNIFICENT city!
Ari'kami from the bottom of my heart for this beautiful gift.
Nu were zo'well welcomed by siu Frefini spouses, Copal Kito and Liosta Miko. Siu nu gave us a tour of the city. We went to the "Grand'Sair"where Su had a beautiful Rotoa. Liu knew that siu Matis had managed to grow a rotoa on the surface. Su nu was astonished.
We also saw the siu'o king's palace. Su is an architectural marvel.
Liosta Miko nu introduced Canillia Miko, a su'o acquaintance. Su is also li'kind: su nu has offered her hospitality for the night. Su has a li'pretty apartment in Yrkanis. Nu spent a comfortable night, and Nu su is li'grateful.
Mata Waki and kisses, Mi and Pa,
liu'o Staeflina.
]]>
Staeflina
<![CDATA[The childhood of Uzykos, son of two cracked fyros]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/32956/4#210079 Wed, 22 May 2024 08:58:20 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/210079
Alongside the school, Uzykos had to undergo, so to speak, the trials provided by Azazor to toughen him up. Why was he doing this to him? While he understood that his father had gone through a lot to achieve his social position, it was nothing like that for him. They had dappers, citizenship, an apartment in Thesos and many connections. So why did he have to toughen up? He had no intention of becoming an imperial soldier or a hothead. Besides, he still didn't know what he was going to do next. He suspected his father would want him to continue his studies, but strangely enough, they'd never discussed it. So he continued to submit himself to the horrific tests devised by his father's psychopathic brain. Returning alone from the Shadow Road two years ago had only been a foretaste. He no longer counted the dangerous expeditions into the Root Primes, the Burnt Corridor or Loria, sometimes unarmored, sometimes unarmed, sometimes even blindfolded and with his hands behind his back, to "guide himself by instinct". But the most sadistic part was that his father didn't take part in his expeditions. No, he hired a marauder for that purpose. A fyros just as crazy as him by the name of Krapoutos, with whom his father sometimes spent hours boozing on the way home from the Academy where he was finishing his higher education. It surprised her that he hadn't asked a legionnaire instead of a scoundrel to take charge of his training. He must have had his reasons. He would have preferred his half-sister Lyren to take charge. She was a legionnaire, but at least with her, he could breathe a sigh of relief and enjoy himself. It was with her that he'd taken his first and last sip of essence of oxyx. And it was she who had led him into the slums of Pyr to meet people, each more bizarre and zany than the last.

Today, his father had summoned him to Silan. He hadn't told him anything more, and Uzykos feared a new ordeal even worse than the others. He had rarely been to Silan, and each time it was to see this or that person with whom his father had business dealings. Perhaps this would be another one of his simple, inconsequential visits. After all, Krapoutos wasn't there. But at the sight of the barding his father wore, he felt a shiver run through his body.

They approached the edge of the cliff to the south, not far from a small ranger camp. Placing his heavy load on the ground, Azazor looked intently at his son.

"- Uzy, today you're going to have a special experience.

He then pointed to a road leading down to the bare land.

"Here begins the road to Oflovak. The one that leads to the Old Lands and the desert of our ancestors.

- I know, you explained it to me last time. And then we saw the story of the first great swarm and the explorer Oflovak Rydon at school.

- It's no longer a question of explanations today. For a few days, you will experience what lies beyond this barrier.

Uzykos opened his eyes wide.

"In about a day's walk, you'll reach the beginning of the green continent. You're going to go there and bring me back some salina leaves. There's quite a lot if you dare to go deeper into the forest. You can't get lost, just head straight in that direction, and there are markers still in good condition as long as you don't go too far down the road".

As he did so, he pointed to the horizon. It was misty. All that could be seen on the horizon was an opaque sheet of mist, and a light, icy wind swept up the cliff, making the young fyros tremble. He stood there in transit, not daring to utter a word. An anguished mooing roused him from his dazed state. Azazor placed a limp, blistered hand on Uzykos' shoulder.

"- Son, what you're hearing is an armadai. A kind of big arma. They're not dangerous. But I'll admit, their mooing gives you the willies.

- Dad! But if I die on the road to Oflovak, I might not be able to be resurrected!"

Pretending not to have heard him, Azazor continued, his gaze turned towards the mists:

"- The real danger as far as the verdant continent is the possible presence of large yetins. But their presence is very rare on this stretch of road and they're not interested in homins. If you keep your distance from the armadais, you won't come across any.

- Daddy!

- There are also jugulas in the forest, but you shouldn't have to worry about them if you stay at the entrance. Watch out, though: they're cunning and often well-hidden.

- Ramèch! Dad! Can you hear me?! If I die, it's for good".

Azazor turned a hard gaze on his son. Only he seemed capable of looking at him like that. A cold, hard, unwavering gaze, yet one that hid affection and a hint of sadness.

"- I know, son. That's why I told you you were going to have a special experience. Few homins here have ever experienced it. That feeling where you can actually die. It changed my vision of the world, and it'll change yours.

- Why are you putting me through all this? Ramèch de bordel à yubo! WHY?

- Because one day you'll come with me. Where it all began. Where we should never have left.

- Your ancestral desert craze again? If you want to go, go! But I'm staying in the New Lands.

- You'll go too, when you're ready. Not because you're my son, but because you've got a taste for it.

Uzykos frowned, saying no more. It was impossible to negotiate with his father. If he had decided something for him, he had no choice but to comply. So, after waiting a while, interrupted only by the mooing of an armadai, he bent down to the barda on the floor and rummaged through it.

"What should I get? he grumbled, not hiding his bad mood.

- Everything. You take it all. We Miri are not afraid of heavy loads"..

A glint of surprise shone in Uzykos' eyes. It was the first time his father had used his mother's surname, not his father's, to refer to him. The Miri, named after one of his probable ancestors from the Akatorum or Atakorum tribe, he couldn't remember. His link with the Old Lands. He picked up the whole bag and slung it over his shoulders. It was heavy, but nothing compared with what he'd already carried. Then he moved towards the start of the road, looking off into the mist.

"And don't forget the salina leaves, Azazor added.

- I hate you, he breathed, as the cool wind lifted his red hair.

He walked slowly away without another word. Azazor watched him go for a few minutes. When his son disappeared into the fog, his eyes had become moist.]]>
Azazor
<![CDATA[Abyleus, young legionnaire]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/33068/5#210056 Mon, 29 Apr 2024 16:50:37 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/210056
oren pyr Lydia

Last night, I almost died. Others weren't as lucky as me. The daikos Meriops and my friend Galeus died. You know, Galeus, the fyros who passed the legion entrance test with me. We were together in the burnt corridor, practicing our axe skills on the kinchers with the daikos. Suddenly, I was knocked out from behind! I had just enough time to see black matis boots before I collapsed. When I was picked up, there was a whole bunch of homins around me, including the niakünos himself. They were in the middle of cleaning up the desert on the orders of archivist Apotheps when they came upon me, sprawled in the sawdust. Azazor interrupted the clean-up to set off in search of the two missing men. For yes, by my side, there was no trace of Meriops and Galeus.

We immediately suspected the nearby Ecorchés tribe. There were fights diplomatic exchanges with their chief Staero, but nothing came of it. They had nothing to do with it. They did, however, speak of strange homins seen in the area, some with red eyes. They seemed to be afraid of them. However, it seems that the Ecorchés manipulate magic at a very advanced stage and make friends with marauders. For them to be afraid of them, these red-eyed homins must have had a bad reputation. But obviously, nobody in the group knew who they were. Except the leader. But I hesitate to tell you. There's something taboo about it. Azazor led us to a cave not far from the fyros camp on the burnt corridor. Inside, we discovered a huge extinguished inferno and around it, the decapitated bodies of Galeus and Meriops. Yes, DECAPITATED! Impossible to revive. Apparently, it takes some serious skill to manage to kill someone without being brought back by the powers that be.

I carried Galeus' body to the altar of Dyron, and Lyren carried the sergeant's. The altar kami welcomed them. The altar kami welcomed them. Their bodies returned to the sawdust and their souls descended into the depths to fight the dragon.

Come on, I'll dare to tell you the name of the people who did this. They're followers of the cult of fyrak! Fanatics who make sacrifices to the dragon to gain power. And they dared to attack legionnaires not far from the fyros camp? Can you imagine the crazies? The chief seems to be in such a rage that he's sworn to track them down in the Old Lands. We're in for some dark times, I can feel it. But don't worry about me. At the barracks, nothing can happen to me. After that, I confess I'm not looking forward to going back to the burnt corridor.

Anyway, be well sis, and see you soon for my leave. We'll be praying at the Dyron kami altar for the fallen legionnaires.

cal i selak!

Your brother Abyleus
]]>
Azazor
<![CDATA[Roleplay Youtube Video]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/33133/3#210020 Sun, 14 Apr 2024 15:37:02 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/210020 Jadeyn <![CDATA[En quête de perfection]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/8580/11#209946 Sat, 16 Mar 2024 16:57:12 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/209946 https://app.ryzom.com/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/32111/1 )]]> Aylia <![CDATA[L'Arbre-Vert]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/9397/3#209939 Thu, 14 Mar 2024 07:08:50 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/209939 Entwurf

Ehrwürdige Versammlung,

Einige weise und respektable Bürger jeder Nation haben mir geraten, Ihnen das Projekt unserer Gilde vorzustellen, um Ihren Rat und Ihre offizielle Unterstützung zu erhalten.

Unsere Gilde beruht auf einigen hoministischen Prinzipien. Aber gute Worte sind nur dann von Bedeutung, wenn sie auch umgesetzt und auf die Probe gestellt werden. Um diese Aufgabe erfüllen zu können, müssen unserer bescheidenen Meinung nach einige Bedingungen erfüllt sein:

Die erste und wichtigste ist die Neutralität der Gilde, auch wenn ihre Mitglieder nicht unbedingt neutral sind, denn es geht uns nicht darum, eine neue Gilde für Neutrale zu gründen oder unsere Überzeugungen und Unterschiede, die alles in allem unseren Reichtum ausmachen, zu untergraben.

Die zweite Voraussetzung, die vor allem in Zeiten des Konflikts unerlässlich ist, ist die Offizialisierung der Organisation. Die Gilde muss in der Lage sein, in Krisensituationen zu handeln, ohne selbst daran beteiligt zu sein, und dennoch von allen Beteiligten anerkannt zu werden.

Nach Meinung einiger Weisen und Älteren ([HRP]und aus Gründen der Spielbarkeit im PvP [/HRP]) werden wir nur auf ausdrücklichen Wunsch von Organisationen, Gilden, Vereinen etc. tätig. Unsere Aktivitäten konzentrieren sich hauptsächlich auf Krisen: Wir können Friedensstifter begleiten, um sie zu schützen, zu heilen oder sogar zu befreien, wenn sie als Geiseln genommen werden. Wir können auch Botschaften übernehmen, um den Botschaftern den Beginn eines Dialogs zu eröffnen, wenn es zu einer Schließung kommt. Wir sind damit einverstanden, keine Waffen bei uns zu tragen, wenn es nötig ist.Großveranstaltungen: um Unpässlichkeiten und verschiedene Unfälle (Sonnenstich, Ertrinken...) und leider auch Opfer von Vandalismus und Krawallen zu behandeln. (z.B. der Markt in FH)Kriege: Aus Sorge um die Neutralität überlassen wir es den Mitgliedern der Karavan und den Kamisten, ihre eigenen Leute wiederzubeleben. Wir können nur in Zeiten des Waffenstillstands und auf ausdrücklichen Wunsch der Konfliktparteien eingreifen ([HRP]vor allem aus GP-Gründen, um nicht unter dem Deckmantel der Neutralität den Spielablauf zu stören [/HRP]). In Kriegen können wir Nachrichten zu Gefangenen bringen, sie pflegen und Konventionen durchsetzen.Naturkatastrophen: wahrscheinlich Goo, wenn es weiter in unser Land eindringt.

Auf Missionen tragen wir nur ein einziges Wappen, den Grünen Baum. Es ist das der Hoodo-Gilde und zeigt einen Baum als Symbol für Leben (die Farbe Grün) und Intelligenz (die Farbe Blau).

Für unseren Hauptsitz halten wir Fairhaven für ideal, da die Gilde hier ihren Ursprung hat und das Argument für diese Wahl keine nationalen oder religiösen Bezüge beinhaltet. Ständige Gründungsmitglieder: Zorroargh, Tryker, Rajaaar, Matis, Kamikajoe (?), Zoraï, (noch zu benennen), Fyros. Ständige und temporäre Mitglieder verpflichten sich, die Charta der Gilde zu respektieren. Temporäre Mitglieder sind Freiwillige, die sich uns für bestimmte Aufgaben anschließen, oft um uns zu helfen, da unsere Gilde jung und unerfahren ist, oder einfach nur, um ein Übergangsheim zu finden, in dem sie die Zweifel einer Entscheidung und die Qualen der Einsamkeit überbrücken können. Die Waffenknechte und offensiven Magier der Gilde werden nur zur Verteidigung (aber Vorsicht vor Provokationen) und zum Schutz der rettenden Gildenmitglieder eingreifen.

Danke für Ihre Aufmerksamkeit und Unterstützung.]]>
Ledania
<![CDATA[Held by the Bolobi]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/33105/1#209914 Fri, 08 Mar 2024 19:51:36 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/209914
Held by the Bolobi

Dua, Harvestor 20, 4th AC 2626 (HRP: January 4, 2024)


After an ordinary evening at the Fairhaven bar, Lorlyn decided to go back to brewing her Byrh with her favorite Bolobis deep in the Loria. No longer a Kamist and unable to teleport there directly, the Trykette wove her way through the Kitins and Cutes, Byrh in hand. Although she was known for her legendary "stealth", when it came to avoiding "nasty, unkind carnivores", she didn't do too badly. That is, if she didn't come across any "too cute" animals along the way.
"Lordoy the little Wonbais!" she shouted, waving her arms at the herbivores.
The latter, accustomed to her somewhat invasive presence, didn't stir a hair. The Trykette wanted to stop and take the time to greet them properly, but rapid footsteps drew her attention: Kitins! The shopkeeper, convinced that she had been very discreet, began to run, trying to understand how she had been spotted. Despite her short legs, the Tryker ran very fast and eventually outran her assailants. She congratulated herself on her athletic skills and hopped happily to the Bolobi camp.

No sooner had she arrived than numerous pairs of very long legs rushed towards her, releasing long, melodious notes that Lorlyn easily recognized as the voices of her little Bolobis. She immediately understood from their sound that they were asking for... Byrh! The trader stopped dead in her tracks. She had just realized something terrible: the Bolobis had finished her gigantic supply of Byrh, which contained months of work... The Trykette, panic-stricken at not having a single drop of her marvellous drink left, began to flail about among her friends. But it didn't stop there. The orange creatures, seeing the sudden panic of their Byrh dispenser, immediately understood the situation and began to move in a way Lorlyn had never seen them move before. Then, wide-eyed, she realized: they were surrounding her! The brewer looked up - to see something other than their paws - and met the furious gaze of the Bolobis. Suddenly frightened by the dark aura enveloping them, the little Trykette didn't recognize her friends. Trembling, she muttered: "You... want some Byrh, don't you?
Faced with their threatening cries, Lorlyn collapsed onto her knees and began to cry.
- But I... I don't have any more! You've... drunk it all...".
The Bolobis gave her a look that made her feel guilty. She was well aware that she hadn't been back here for a while, but there was such a large stock of Byrh that it was unthinkable that it would be empty in such a short time! After a few moments, Lorlyn pulled herself together and announced:
"I've got an idea! I'll go and buy some Byrh in Fairhaven, so you'll have something to drink while I make mine again!"
Unfortunately, the herbivores didn't seem to appreciate the idea of consuming a drink other than her own. This was made abundantly clear when a few of them collided with her, sending her satchel flying and crashing into the sawdust. Lorlyn, in a panic, rushed to the bag and was relieved to find that nothing had been broken. But there was a problem. Her very light pacts were gone! It was impossible to teleport, let alone to Fairhaven! She watched the Bolobis chew provocatively on those that hadn't yet been buried under the sawdust. Desperate, Lorlyn realized that her friends wouldn't let her leave until they had a good supply of the beverage worthy of their name at the ready.

And so began months and months of interminable work...]]>
Lorlyn
<![CDATA[The shadow of a doubt...]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/33029/4#209848 Sun, 25 Feb 2024 21:38:48 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/209848 The hand reaches out over the glowing embers, the object it holds resembling a necklace made of fine twigs.A Matis insignia appears on it, a Salina, but another inscription appears on it, evoking the Karan crown.The flame comes to lick the fine ornament.The fire quickly takes hold, devouring and inescapable.The hand lets go of the medallion, which falls into the heart of the fire like a wildfire that has come to the end of its course.a green flame rises, then the object is nothing but ashes, which are carried away in the smoke.a bundle of ink-covered leathers falls in its turn. the parchments shrivel and blacken...
The crackling has ceased in the stump, the bellowing of the Armas gives rhythm to the night of Atys.
It will be enough, and I wonder if Copal wasn't right to tell me to hide the manuscript. In fact, the Lucios taken from the manuscripts and the medallion are enough for me, and will be more discreet if spies or the overly insistent pry into the house.
They were certainly antiques, but they're far from valuable, and I couldn't risk losing the originals.
As for the lucios, they're caulked in a jar, under shells I drilled in the jungle.
]]>
Staerano
<![CDATA[De la noblesse]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/33039/2#209836 Tue, 20 Feb 2024 16:26:15 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/209836 For this reason, and because the "next Chamber of Nobles" is imminent, he is sending the following missive to his sovereign without delay.
Yrkanis, Germinally the 20th 2627-3, to Stevano Karan

I note that the agenda for the forthcoming Chamber of Nobles contains no mention of Serae Liosta Frerini's accession to the Nobility. And so much the better: after discussing the matter at length with the serae involved, I'm now certain that she has no desire for such an accession, not out of false modesty, but out of loyalty to her youthful Tryker years.
That's why I've come here to express my gratitude to Your Majesty for not yielding to the request I made on the 17th of Pluvia.

Matis aiye!
--
Nilstilar Thorec
Ambassador of Your Majesty near the Naw Trykoth Federation and (interim) near the Ranger Organization
]]>
Nilstilar
<![CDATA[The Hairpins]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/33046/2#209826 Mon, 19 Feb 2024 10:56:47 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/209826 Léa accompanies Altarae on a trip to Yrkanis.
The new Royal Jeweler smilingly rereads the mail from the palace.
She takes out her writing pad and with her best quill begins to write her reply.
Filirae Nirni di Varello Karaedin
de: Serae Canillia Altae Di Sylengi
Nindën du Filira Ordre Alkiën
Royal Jeweller


à: Filirae Nirni di Varello
Karaedin


Deles Silam,

It will be an honor to share a chai and benefit from your knowledge of filira art Botanique.
If you like,
I will be accompanied by my private secretary, Serae Léa Cuini.

I'm forever yours.


Serae Canillia Altae Di Sylengi
Nindën du Filira Ordre Alkiën
Royal Jeweller



After rereading,
Canillia applies her seal, then calls Lyssan to take this precious letter to the palace chancellery.]]>
Canillia
<![CDATA[And then]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/32999/10#209804 Fri, 09 Feb 2024 22:10:06 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/209804
She seemed back to her old self. At least, in part. The biological results were quite good, within the limits of what they could hope for. Her arm was gradually regaining its mobility and sensitivity; it would be a long time before she could use it as she used to, but it was possible.

However, as the days went by, Eeri became increasingly agitated and nervous. At times, she looked at him as if she were meditating on sticking a dagger in his mask because the results weren't up to scratch. It was a little more than the predictable fyros impatience and there was something about it that reminded the scientist of other guinea pigs, in other circumstances. Annoying, very annoying. He could, of course, drug her to make her more malleable, or test various potions to purge her organism of the poison that was corrupting her. None of these solutions appealed to him. Exchanging Eeri's mind for an able-bodied arm was of little interest, and fighting the product that had altered her life seed would lead to more than uncertain results.

One thing was certain: she was no longer "herself" enough to make an informed choice. He wasn't going to be able to present his experiment to the other scientists as a great success. It wasn't a failure, but he couldn't say it was a success. The exact limits of his experiment remained to be seen.

He picked up the scalpel, serene about what was to come.
- I need to check one more detail with your sap, Eeri.

She eyed him warily, but allowed herself to be approached. Without giving her time to react, the zorai thrust the makeshift weapon into the fyros' heart. As her life slipped away, he kept his gaze on her, supporting her almost tenderly:
- We meet at the vortex.

There were three possible options. Either the resection would put things right, and everyone would feel better. Or it would reveal more clearly the shortcomings of the operation, and allow more appropriate action to be taken. Or the Powers That Be wouldn't bring her back... in which case, one less problem.

She exhaled a final sigh, then disappeared. In all probability, the Powers had taken care of it. Mazé'yum hurried back to the wormhole, albeit less expeditiously for himself: he didn't like sticking a dagger in his heart when he could avoid it.

However, no one was waiting for him at the wormhole. The Karavan agents hadn't seen any acerbic fyrette, or one in any other mood.

Her body had been recalled. She had to be somewhere. The most likely attraction was the country's other wormholes, but it would take her some time to check them out, especially as the others were not guarded like the Masure: Eeri could very well have fled into the Primes or the Desert without anyone seeing her, completely disoriented and having lost all common sense.

And it was all the more embarrassing that he couldn't organize the hominid hunt himself. He himself had people to run away from, who were just waiting for an opportunity to find him...]]>
Mazeyum
<![CDATA[Silence...]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/32848/7#209803 Fri, 09 Feb 2024 21:04:40 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/209803 One day, he takes them to the beach; another, he buys them caprini milk while he talks to Lyren. The most recent outing was a theater rehearsal in Windermeer. The children went from mischief to mischief, and Caprini's milk didn't contain them this time! Maya'kan ended up drumming on Krill's hat, while Saya'kan threw the assembly's beer barrel into the water...
The commander was feeling overwhelmed.
But... time seemed long. Time seemed long because he'd never waited so long for his wife. Why wasn't she coming back to the family apartment?
He's back...
Jazzy was back to her old anxieties...
He took refuge in endless discussions with the Drakan...
To avoid the silence, heavy and present, once the children are asleep, as every evening.
The eerie silence had returned.]]>
Jazzy
<![CDATA[Recueil de poésie matis]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/13748/57#209788 Mon, 29 Jan 2024 23:20:02 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/209788 Doux chemin
The gentle path between the lines
You, the patient witness to my secret emotions
When my heart was open to the beauties of love
And high I sang of the joy that filled me.

The pungent scent of resin intoxicated me.
On your hillsides, white roses I picked
Her mind filled with her beautiful bouquets
And as I waited to see him, I stripped them off.

Now, so quickly, spring has come and gone,
You're thriving in the summer heat,
And the two of us go through you hand in hand.

Your alinea entwine higher than ever.
We go, drawing strength from the Forest,
Looking forward to tomorrow.]]>
Liosta
<![CDATA[An extraordinary embassy in the Land of Masks]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/33026/1#209745 Thu, 11 Jan 2024 22:49:38 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/209745
- So you were appointed ambassador to the Matis, but you went and put your mask on in other countries too.
- It was just me! I was only there to see, at first. But who knows where the Theocracy has kept its other ambassadors. Too much free access to mushrooms, no doubt.
- ... and you laughed at everyone?
- Born, born. I just enjoyed the shows I was offered. Which were often very funny, and sometimes a little pathetic. But I didn't commit any diplomatic blunders, I know how to behave.
- ... You gave alcohol to the Tryker ambassador without telling her what it was and let the Matisse alchemist think it was poison.
- Poor Lorlyn was completely sober, I couldn't leave a colleague in that state. Can you imagine attending a political meeting sober? What a horror! As for what Canillia deduced from the vial in question... well, I agree: bambooka¹ is so bad that it's one hell of a poison, but it was the only thing I had in my first-aid kit and it's usually more useful for disinfecting my tools. I couldn't give a tryker what I take; that would have looked bad.
- ... Then you took part in the Jena prayer among the matis. Even though you are an official representative of the Theocracy.
- It's not my fault that the Theocracy only has its Karavanieres to send out to perform. And I'll end up convincing the officials to reform the state.
- Girl, you're on your own with the revolution, and our Wise Ones aren't the type to take it lying down. I wish you were more...
- Wiser? More awake?
- ... At least a little more discreet.
- Don't worry, mi. Nothing bad will happen to me. Can you imagine Nikuya's face if I were put in prison? Initiates can be cruel, but no one will openly challenge the most ferocious Awakener of our generation.
- And if she finds out you're using her, she'll chop you into little pieces.
- Born. Born, I don't use her. I wish I'd spared her the trouble, really. That's why I don't make so many waves. But I can't deny myself for love, any more than I can deny the love we have for each other. I'll do what I can to ensure that Karavaners and Jenaists have their place in this country. Gently, I promise. I'm not going to convince the cousins to attack Zora... we all know it's pointless anyway. Instead, I'll take my cue from Sève and use reason and emotion to convince them.

The mother sighed. Yokao had always been a hothead, a non-conformist mask in the extreme. For a while, she'd thought her daughter would settle down when she joined the Healers of the Soul², a government body for normalizing Zoraie society if ever there was one, but even the excellent Misuno-ko hadn't managed to turn her wayward daughter into an honorable initiate. Initiated nonetheless; it was still better than the dreadful rumors she'd heard about Yokao's life when she was in Yrkanis. Were they rumors at all, when they were reported by the girl's own uncle? Oh, despair... And now this ambassadorship, which could have filled the mother's heart with pride, if it weren't for the anguish over what Yokao would generate as a catastrophe this time.

- At least tell me you've written your report to the Theocracy in a slightly more... compliant way.
- Report? What report? Hoooo, mi. Nobody reads these reports. So why bother writing them? Born, born, if they want reports, we'll have to talk. And if we do talk, it'll be about a little more than reports.

Still, Yokao felt a little sorry for his mother's dismayed expression:
- We'll be fine. The government doesn't have any kind of foreign policy anyway, and couldn't care less what happens in other countries. The previous ambassador almost started a war with the Trykers and she didn't even get a lecture for it. So, whatever I may do or say in my role as ambassador... it's not going to disturb the meditations of the Sages and the Great Mask. It's just... a great opportunity to have some fun. And I intend to make the most of it!


HRP : explication de quelques détails
¹ Bambooka: Zoraï alcohol. Nobody drinks it except the most inebriated, because it hits the skull and rips the throat out without any other quality. Generally used to polish armor.
² Healers of the Soul: how many times have I told you they're not shrinks? But keep thinking that these "shrinks" are interested in Zoraïs' state of mind in order to reduce their drug consumption.
]]>
Yokao
<![CDATA[-- The masked Tryker --]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/33013/1#209719 Thu, 21 Dec 2023 14:44:25 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/209719

Excavations in the oldest archives of the Fairhaven library have unearthed some very old bar plans by Trykeri architects. Remind you of Nairi-Trykeri?


The bar on Thésos, based on Trykeri plans, is a pale copy of what was done around Trykoth in ancient times.







Signed: -- The masked Tryker --]]>
Lagargouille
<![CDATA[Mémoires d'homine]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/27023/55#209645 Mon, 27 Nov 2023 11:29:16 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/209645
On a rainy morning, a young yubo was born, leaving his mother to die. His father? Well, like all males, he had abandoned his female. The little one grew up among the group of yubos with the surrogate mothers. Surprisingly, he sensed that he was different: he sought the company of the hominin.

Homins amused him. And just as well, the homins were always trying to get closer to him. And he? to lure them in, pretended to follow them, even let himself be stroked. No sooner had they turned their backs than he was peeing on their ugly dresses. And as he was being chased, he would hide under the homines' dresses. The homins, trying to catch him, would often get a good slap from the homine. But, as his whiskers tickled the homines' legs, they would scream and jump, almost stepping on him. As a result, he'd bite their calves and run off.

In winter, when he saw a female by the fire, he would hide in a bush. When night fell, he'd approach, casting a huge shadow that would scare off any female. If the hominin wasn't afraid, he'd snuggle up to her for the night. In the morning, he'd put a nice turd in her boots to keep her feet warm and pee on her bag to keep the insects away. Then he went back under the comforter. But in the morning, the homine, putting on a boot, screamed and threw the 2nd boot at the yubo, who ran to hide in a bush. No sooner had the homine risen than gingos swooped down on her bag, nibbling at it and devouring her supplies in the process.

The yubo grew up to be the terror of his group of yubos. Until the day he found a hominin who protected him from homins who got too close to her, swinging a pickaxe at them, and who didn't scream when he tickled her calves. She even gave him scratches, toffees and warmth on chilly nights. The first time she stepped into his gift-filled boot, she laughed. And she killed the gingos charging at her bag. Then she caught up with the yubo and told him not to do that.

Since then, the yubo has strutted proudly alongside this homine. To thank her, well, he continues to pee on the dresses of homines and bites the calves of homins who get too close. As time went by, Bipbip remained faithful to Eleanide; despite his arthritic condition, he followed her as best he could. She, seeing him waddle with difficulty, carried him more and more.]]>
Eleanide
<![CDATA[Unexpected journey...]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/32978/1#209601 Tue, 14 Nov 2023 11:51:08 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/209601 He was a young homin, and his circles would have gone no further than the third (except perhaps in craftsmanship).
But Chelin had the quality (or flaw) of being very curious. His lack of experience prevented him, much to his regret, from making long journeys alone to other regions.
But one fine day, having overslept after a night spent sewing a mediocre suit of armor, Chelin stumbled upon a strange object at the entrance to Zora: a glittering sphere seemingly made of amber. He approached it, curious, and felt as transported as when he left Silan.
He awoke at the foot of a terrifying kitin. He leapt to his feet, thinking he'd run away, but then he thought he was dreaming: it may sound absurd, but the Kincher handed him a club and a yubo. He then invited the zorai to play a strange game: extreme yubo golf !!!!
After two hours of trying to catapult the yubo into the mouth of a very friendly kirosta, Chelin thought he was going mad.
He spotted a gap in the high cliff that surrounded the golf course. A way out of this absurd nightmare !!!!
But he was disappointed to see the exit cluttered with pieces of bark from a landslide.
He stood up on tiptoe and peered through the clutter: bandits were having a good time in their camp.
In despair, the homin donned his amplifiers and, resolutely, cast a spell on the bandits. In one fell swoop, they struck him down...
But something happened that Chelin hadn't expected: he woke up in front of the master Kami of Pyr.
It hadn't been a dream, but he was really dead.
It didn't really matter to him: he'd made the journey to the land of the fyros!
He consulted a map and realized that his absurd adventure with the kitin golf course had taken place in the Kamis' secret oasis, inaccessible for so many years!
He couldn't believe it! Forgetting that his people had little taste for drink, he ordered a shooki liqueur from the bar and, as was to be expected from a zorai, regurgitated his entire glass, thereby expelling himself from the bar.
But he tore up a pact and went home. The evening found him happy with the end of this most strange day, and Chelin fell asleep with a smile on his face...]]>
Chelin
<![CDATA[Lettres à mon enfant.]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/32105/44#209546 Thu, 02 Nov 2023 09:41:48 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/209546 V. Le Gubani blanc, de l'autre coté du miroir[…]mon enfant, ma Toute petite je sais maintenant que je vais mourir et que ça va pas être "aimable".
Tout cela je le dois à la Sève Noire que j'ai un jour décidé d'accueillir en moi. Même si personne ne m'y a forcé, Je ne peut pas dire que j'ai eu le choix. J'ai conscience que j'aurai pus suivre bien d'autres routes.
Mais, un jour le Gubani Blanc m'a trouvé et je l'ai suivi de l'autre coté du Miroir.
Evidament, mes paroles doivent te sembler bien énigmatique.
Tu pensera peut être qu'il s'agit des délires d'une vielle homine à l'esprit faussé par la drogue? Tu dois me croire, j'ai, un jour, traversé l'horizon du miroir de la réalité et de l'autre coté, Le Gubani blanc m'a guidée dans un monde différent et fantastique.
Cet Univers n'était peut être pas mieux que celui où je suis née et que tu connais.
Mais, il était plus simple.
"Certain ont dus se faire un plaisir de te raconter ce qu'il crois connaitre de mon passage dans le Clan de la Sève noire. Mais ils ne savent rien.
Voici ma vérité, du moins celle que j'ai arpenté...

Comme il se doit: tout commence toujours au bar de Fairhaven.
Je discutais avec Ny-Cybel autour d'une Byhre quand un malotrou, membre de L'UFA c'est avisé que ma Talai était une criminelle qui n'avait rien à faire à Fairhaven. Rapidement le ton a monté, malgré mes tentatives d'apaisement je n'ai eu à l'époque d'autre choix que de m’interposer.
Que les Parents pardonnent à cet homin, il m'a frappé avec tant de violence que les services des puissances furent nécessaires pour me ramener. J'ai su que Ny'Cybel m'avait vengé mais cela n'a jamais été un réconfort.
Si cet honnorable membre de L'UFA en était resté là, rien n'aurait été pareil.
Mais j'ai à nouveau été appelée à me justifier devant la Justice des Lochi. [...]

[...]Pom n'est pas sortie de son appartement de Chrystabell depuis l'incident à Fairhaven. Quand Fleur entre, sa mine défaites ne laisse rien présager de bon....

    «Elysem Gan Lor Ny'Fleur?»


    _ An... Y Gan AnLor Ny'Pom... Y sors d'un rendez-vous avec le Nair-COMANDANT de l'UFA, Nair-Jazzy...
    Il campe sur ses positions, on va nulle part avec lui...»


Pom se souvient de cette nuit de combat avec Ny'Jazzy devant Avendale:
    «...Y Sul avais prévenu.... depuis qu'il a perdu Ny'Cybele il n'est plus le même...
    Il ne jure plus que par Detem Drakani Al Ba U.F.A....
    il n'a plus confiance en grand monde.

    Quoi qu'il en dise, Y reste pour lui une étrangère avec des relations troubles et suspectes.»


La trykette prend une profonde respiration:
    «...Y Sul avait dit qu'il ne nous donnerais jamais raison contre un des membres de sa précieuse UFA..»


Fleur essaye de rester positif:
    «...de toutes façons, il n'a pas le pouvoir de décider seul. Y vais faire appel au gouverneur, suivant la constitution les choses sont ....

    _ Laisse, Fleur, cela ne mènera pas à de bonne choses.... Les méthodes anciennes avaient du bon...

    _...Sul vas pas faire une touberie? pense à ta guilde, à ton engagement envers les Rangers et les Lochi...»


Pom très calme:
    «J'ai vaincu Cybele pour aider Ny'Jazzy à lui rendre la raison...
    ...J'ai donné ma sève pour protèger les Lochi des invasions Kitini et des exactions Marauds...
    ...J'ai aidé L'UFA à chaques fois que Y ai pus le faire...
    Al, ce Jeune Toub m'a qualifié de... "parasite"...
    ...Il paraitrait que Y "suce les ressources de Detem Lor Lochi"... Comme si ils étaient plus à lui qu'a moi!

    ...Y me serai contenté d'une excuse, mais An, c'est An possible pour cet homin, il lui faut de l'absolut...
    Dans les Lochi les trykeri sont toll Talai. Mais, certain sont visiblement au dessus des autres!

    Y pleure sur les fondements des Trykeri, qu'en ont-ils fait?»


Chuchotant pour elle même :
    «Tryka... MEER... Sella...»


Fleur regarde sa sœur l'air effrayé [...]

——o§O§o——

Lexique

]]>
Peatpom
<![CDATA[A dreamer wakes up]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/32964/2#209529 Sun, 29 Oct 2023 18:00:20 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/209529 But welcome back to Bark! Nice to see some roleplayers back]]> Kyriann <![CDATA[The end of a story]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/32952/1#209476 Wed, 18 Oct 2023 19:43:18 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/209476
HRP warning: For those who don't already know Ba'Rakha, it may be useful to point out that although truth is a concept he's mastered perfectly, he's completely unconcerned with the subject. He likes to gather information, even if he'll never tell you how (and frankly, you don't want to know), and fiddle with it until the result suits him. In his profession, that's pretty useful, but it's highly inadvisable to consider him a reliable source (at least, if you're not in his line of work). And since neither he nor his boss talk business in front of witnesses, and the vorax don't talk either, you're not aware of what was said that day in the Primes.



Ba'Rakha sits on a small mound, watching the caravan move away into the gloom of the Primes. The chieftain joins him, seemingly unconcerned by the vorax frolicking a little further away.

- What's this all about?

The Tryker picks up his dice from the moss, smiling.

- I thought it might be good for you to get back in touch with day-to-day operations, get a taste of the field, get out of your office and all that.

The chief sweeps her eyes over the landscape. The dzikus and plumash sting the area with their glow like a starry sky, and the wind whispers languorous or epic songs. Gubanis play on the moss between the fungao. There's everything to move a poet's, painter's or musician's soul. Which the chef is absolutely not.

- Lost.
- You can't say I didn't try.

Ba'Rakha stands up, looking no more disappointed than that, under the cold gaze of the leader. Well, her gaze is always cold, except when it's icy, so he's used to it.

- Why did you want me to take such an interest in this caravan?
- Actually, I wasn't interested in that one. I was more interested in discussing this one.

And Ba'Rakha points off to the side. The chieftain scans around, but can't see anything special. A tribe of idiot bandits, a ruin like the ones you find all over the Shadow Route, vaguely reminiscent of a windmill, but not the shadow, or the light, of a caravan.

- I'm not amused by your riddles.
- Not even a little? But I'm trying. But it's true that the Pyromaniacs didn't leave much, which is no doubt fortunate for the people of the Bark in general, and the locals in particular. But I can't help wondering who else it might have helped.

This time, the boss looks more calculating than angry.

- All right, what did you find?
- So far, just amusing coincidences. For example, a guy who disappears for years, lots of years, who doesn't give a sign of life to his beloved wife, but who continues to wear his wedding ring in spite of it all. Love is so beautiful, it always moves me.
- Spare me the unnecessary comments.
- You're breaking all my things here, you know that? Well... There's also this caravan where all the members and mektoubs die for some unknown reason. So far, so good - this is the Primes, after all, and everyone makes mistakes.
But! The Powers That Be don't call back any of the members of the caravan in question. Or at least, they're leaving some of them to rot in the sawdust. And yet there are Karavan altars, Kamis and even a marauding crystal in the area. And that's a hell of a lot less common. In any case, if I knew how to definitively eliminate half a dozen homins, I wouldn't bother with a few smugglers. I'd find much more interesting targets.
And then, among the Trykers who discover the remains, there's the wife of the guy I was telling you about earlier. And despite the goo damage... Oh yes, I forgot to tell you about the goo. There's a box with the symbol of the Black Circle and a few clouds of goo around the corpses. You might as well say that they're no longer really identifiable.
But! The man's wife, therefore, recognizes her dearly departed husband among the few remains. Her head's gone, there's not much left, she hasn't seen him for years, but it doesn't matter, she knows it's him, her heart can't doubt it. It's truly magnificent, people who love each other like that, who recognize each other no matter what the circumstances.
- Abrège, I told you.
- One could almost think you had a problem with love, you know. But then... Because of the goo, the only solution was to burn it all down, with real fire. And so, the Pyromancers kindly agreed to clean up the whole area, and all the evidence with it.
- Proof of what?
- There's no way of knowing, since they've disappeared, of course. Oh, you don't have to make eyes at me like that. The hominin remains were a priori Matis and wore Matisagoo uniforms. So we have a tribe in goo who have gone to the Black Circle for supplies, who are returning home to the Forest "Ba'Rakha doesn't even glance in the direction of the long-gone caravan" and who have a fatal accident on the way. So fatal that none of its members can come forward to tell their leaders what happened to them. One would hope, though, that by now they've learned to take the minimum precautions when transporting such things.
And on the other side of the wormhole, we have the Federation, whose army has failed to prevent this kind of traffic from passing through its territory. At the same time, their commander seems to love wandering around goo fields, and at least one of the taliari was so chummy with the Antekamis that she literally ate at their table. Oh yes, didn't I tell you? The wife in such a hurry to get rid of the remains of her drug dealer husband is a taliar.

How much do you want to bet she's been covering up his dealings all these years, even stocking up on supplies from him, before deciding he was getting cumbersome and it was time to get rid of him?"

Ba'Rakha looks very pleased with his deductions, and plays absent-mindedly with his dice while the chiefess ponders all this.

- And how could she ensure that none of the caravanners survived?

The Tryker sulks a little, before pulling himself together.

- No idea. But you've got to admit, it's a nice story.

The headmistress stares into space for a moment.

- Yui. A nice story. Plus, there's no more evidence.]]>
Barakha
<![CDATA[End of game]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/32910/13#209453 Thu, 12 Oct 2023 21:07:17 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/209453
- So, what do we do with it?
- He's been here for three days, and I'm going to find out how long it's been since he's had a drink of water. At some point his kami will call him back.

The word "kami" seemed to awaken something in the flesh statue. Haokan rose to his feet with a blank stare, leaving all his belongings behind, and left the room, followed by the two homins who couldn't come up with a real answer.

They followed him as the bereaved man made his way back down the shadow road, unwittingly avoiding the various predators, as catatonic as ever. They stopped at the vortex of the Bosquet de l'Ombre, leaving him to continue on his way, wherever he was going.

- This guy is really nuts.
- What, that surprises you? Everyone knows it. But we had a hell of a time proving it.

***



How had he crossed the Primes, then the Jungle? He had no memory of it. But the camp awakened something in him. Homins crowded around him, but he was unable to answer their questions, let alone understand them. One word, however, cut through the haze he was in.

"Zhen".

He clung to it, shouting back:
- Zhen!

And on to the camp, where Zhen had to be... had to be. The homins guided him, ushered him into a tent and spoke kindly to him. It wasn't Zhen who was in front of him, but a matisse. He knew her... It was impossible to remember who she was or what her name was. Her voice was soft, enveloping, tender. Like a mother's voice. The mention of his mother made Haokan jump. He shouldn't be here! His Mi wouldn't be happy!

The hands around him became more constraining, forcing him to sit back down, then open his mouth to swallow the candy the matisse slid down his throat.

- Come on, Haokan, let yourself go... You'll see, everything will be better in a few moments," the Matisse whispered tenderly. You'll finally feel at peace... a deep peace.

Lulled by the hypnotic inflections and the discreet spell that chained him, Haokan finally gave in. Here, he was safe... here, with his zaki's family. And Zhen was coming. He'd be here when he woke up... then everything would be totally fine.]]>
Haokan
<![CDATA[Karma Police]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/32841/3#209354 Mon, 25 Sep 2023 10:47:28 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/209354
Pe'anin is going from bad to worse, he has no idea where the boss has gone, he's scared of his allies as much as his enemies.

So when he receives a message from Rankwai, he takes the diversion with relief. They meet by a waterfall in the jungle. They chat, just like old times. The Zoraïe no longer seems to resent him. Her tattoo is still weird, but Kenny Mac'duncan has never really been interested in that sort of thing; he just sees that even if she's not completely "fine", it's still not as bad as the last time she saw him. I mean, last time she threatened to slice him up. So it's easy to do better.

She asks him if he still has any of the stuff the boss gave him. Kenny's no fool; he knows the boss wouldn't be happy if she took it back. It was a pain in the ass to get her to take it off the hook. Except that the boss isn't here. In fact, he'd like to escape to an artificial paradise, far away from all the bad things in this world.

But there's Pe'anin.

So he proposes a deal to the Zoraïe. His help in making the drug, in exchange for a nice product. After all, she's got the basics too, and maybe between the two of them, they'll be able to make the damn thing. Besides, Pe'anin will be happy to see the Zoraïe. Or not. Pe'anin's mood depends on the direction of the wind, and today it's blowing from the lakes, so she'll be grumpy.

***


The Zoraïe entrusted him with a letter. He told her he didn't know where the boss was, but she said, "I'm sure he'll come out at some point... If he doesn't, I haven't understood anything, in which case this message won't matter". Zoraïs, always saying the strangest things.

But Pe'anin is doing a little better. The medicine seems to have worked. Then the three of them got high, and it felt good. It's the only thing to do, anyway, at the moment.

***


The days go by, and look the same.

Then, suddenly, a black izam lands, delivering a terse message:

"Bring clean clothes to the marauding camp."

No signature. The izam is enough. Kenny hooting with joy. He's alive! He's back! He quickly gathers his belongings and leaps so fast that the teleportation fails twice. Then he pays more attention: it's hard to get back to camp without getting eaten.

He meets the boss in the laboratory he's set up here. But his good mood is slightly shattered by the state of the Zoraï. He's lost weight, his body seems to have new scars, and the state of his hands... Worse than that, Kenny almost finds him... fragile. He never shows the slightest weakness. But now he's showing his age, the boss...

Kenny is glad to have him back, though, and can't stop talking as he pulls things out of his bag, dusts off the dusty lab and tries to keep busy, because he knows the boss doesn't like slackers. The Zoraï is laconic. He asks about the tryker's stories, but doesn't say much about his own.

Kenny almost forgets the letter at the bottom of the bag, but fortunately his story reminds him. He holds it out to the Zorai, watching for his reaction as he reads it. Love letter? Break-up? Anything else? Difficult to know. The boss sighs, folds up the letter:
- I've got other priorities right now. I can't linger here, they'll be looking for me.
- Them? Who, boss?
- Nikuya and her fyros dog, Naveruss. Who else? I'm in no condition to put up with them.
- Did they kidnap you, then, boss? I was sure Nikuya was behind it, but she said she wasn't, and then nobody in the Theocracy had heard of anything, and...
- Quiet, now. Be quiet. Get your amps, you're coming with me. I'm going to need Serae Varnili first of all, except that getting to her is going to be quite an ordeal. For you and for me. So save your breath for the road.

***


Kenny isn't a very good magician. In fact, he's really bad. In fact, if they get away without being called back by the Powers That Be, it's only because they're lucky, but they're not getting anywhere. This makes the boss angry. He keeps looking at his surroundings, as if enemies are coming out of the next thicket.

- I'm going to strangle you if you don't try harder, Kenny. It's not that hard to heal with magic!
- Sorry, boss... I can't do it...

The tryker finally proposed timidly:
- How about Rankwai?
- The last thing I need is a crybaby in my boots, who might sell me out to my enemies!
- I'm sure she won't sell you, boss. What did the letter say?
- Nonsense. Toub, stop waking up all the ragus around here!

The ragus bites the two homins ferociously before they manage to break free. They drag themselves under a thicket, while their regeneration repairs most of the damage. And then, grumbling, the boss finally writes a message, sent by his little black izam.

- We're going to the kami teleporter... and hope she comes alone. And watch your step, you damn tryker!

***



Kenny sighs as he watches the reunion of the two Zoraïs. You'd have to be called Mac'duncan to see the love between these two, a modest love that hides behind cold pretences and pseudo-threats. But he knows. He knows that, despite his cynical airs, the boss is quite happy that the Zoraïe has come, and alone, and that he's worried about her, because of the faint odor he must be smelling, that of the product so pleasant to smoke. Kenny also knows that, despite his suspicious air and passive-aggressive remarks, the zoraïe is happy to see the boss again, worried about the state he's in, and that she's going to do everything she can to help him. Yeah, those two are true love, even if they'd never dare admit it publicly. He sighs again with a delighted look on his face; at this point, the two Zoraïs turn towards him, with the same look of exasperation, the same gesture suggesting that "enough is enough". They're really in symbiosis, there's no denying it.

Kenny bends down just in time to avoid the dagger the boss throws at him, more awkwardly than usual, then goes for it before handing it back with a big smile. Rankwai is not the type to throw daggers, fortunately.

- We're making progress," grumbles the Zorai. I won't be sorry to get rid of you two.

***



The Matis guards assemble as the small party arrives at their tribe. The boss moves towards them; the zoraïe and the tryker stand back. They both exchange a glance, and nothing more is needed. They don't like the area, and they like it even less. these matis-là, because the latter would have already bombarded them with spells, just for laughs, if they hadn't recognized the boss.

He chats with them for a while, before returning to his two acolytes:
- I'll be fine. Just go home. I'll have to stay here for a while.
- But... boss... What about Pe'anin?
- I can't do anything in this state, I have to look after myself before I can look after anyone else. You're on your own.

Then seeing the tryker ready to burst into tears, he exclaims exasperatedly:
- I need three or four days! If she dies before then, you know very well what you have to do.
- But I don't want her to die, boss... then I screwed everything up in your absence...
- You're on your own!

He returns to the camp, but turns around after a few steps, shouting angrily:
- One of the camp messengers will come and deliver a potion. Just stop crying, it's ridiculous!

***


The boss has finally returned to the camp where Pe'anin is based, after too many long days. He's feeling better. The matisse has put him back on his feet. Yesterday, he removed the bandages from his hands. They've been straightened and it's almost as if nothing had happened. Now he's smoking his pipe, finally a little quieter. Kenny finds his boss. Calm, collected, carefully considering what to do next.

As for Pe'anin, she too is... No, better, that's not the word. She's currently stupefied by one of the boss's drugs, so her screams don't wake the whole jungle. Kenny feels angry at those who deprived him of his boss, who are responsible, as a result, for the aggravation of the person he loves most in the world. The boss has told him it's only a matter of months now, that he has to make a decision, or give up. This makes Kenny sick.

- What are we going to do, boss?
- On what level?
- For the bad girls who hurt you.

The Zorai took a few puffs from his pipe before answering:
- Not much.
- But! It's not fair, boss!
- The world doesn't care about justice.
- But it's really not fair.

The tryker clenches his fists, swallows back his tears. Surely, he can't just go and kidnap Nikuya and Naveruss in turn and hurt them. And then he realizes that the boss is right, even if he could do it... it wouldn't change a thing. It would just mean more trouble. The bitterness and impotent anger he feels drives him mad.

***


Kenny has finally written something. He knows it's useless, but it's a relief.

It will display thisone night, in the cities of the Theocracy and the Empire...]]>
Macduncan
<![CDATA[The story of a decline]]> https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=topic/view/32751/10#209177 Wed, 30 Aug 2023 09:32:00 +0000 ROLEPLAY https://app.ryzom.com:443/app_forum/index.php?page=post/view/209177 Journal d’Azazor

It's been a few days since I took the first Tao-Sian potion Nikuya gave me. Apart from the initial urge to vomit, I've had no particular side effects. I feel great, my mind is more or less at peace. I was even able to ensure Lyren's integration into the Legions right away, under the watchful eye of his mother. Nevertheless, I feel I could slip back into my paranoid state at any moment. There's usually a second potion, according to Eeri. I've written a message of thanks to Tao-Sian. And to think that in my madness, even she didn't trust me anymore. Fortunately, my faith in Eeri remained intact. But for how long if I hadn't been cured?
Journal d’Azazor
Yesterday, I met Canillia at Pecus. She spontaneously confessed that she had gone too far. She had prepared a remedy which she left on the floor before leaving. I asked the guards to burn it. Not that I don't think it's really a remedy, but not only do I no longer need it, I don't want anyone to know that Canillia knows the cure for black sap. I wouldn't want to advertise it to her!

Of course, I know why she came to see me in the first place. She denies it, but I know she's doing it because she's scared. She's probably hoping I'll be merciful? I assure you, Canillia, vengeance is no longer something I condone. But I do like to educate, inculcate I'd say, certain important things in other homins, even if they're Matis. Especially since, thanks to this black sap poisoning, I've found the courage (or madness) to abandon the kami's followers. I'm finally free of the Powers. So now it's my turn to help you. To show you what it's like to live without the Karavan. But I'll let you think about it first. Sometimes it takes a long time to find out...
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Azazor