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To Sail Amid The Seas Of Fate - Jorimel's Eldar Rp

Discussion in 'Role Playing' started by Jorimel, Jan 31, 2015.

  1. Nurianis Nurianis Subordinate

    Irlityra didn’t feel comfortable as she watched her home slip from view. The sight was new and unknown to her, she had only seen Lugganath when she left as an aspect warrior, and she hadn’t cared to gaze upon the craftworld on those occasions. This time thought it was different, she could clearly see the size and scale of it. And just how far away it was from her…

    She didn’t feel comfortable because of the corsairs. They appeared no different from any eldar she knew; their outlandish styles were more flamboyant than those that her craftworld friends had dabbled with, but it was their attitudes that worried her. Her whole body became taut at the thought of being on this ship for an extended length of time; it was only as the ship neared the webway portal that the magnitude of this adventure hit her. The tension running through her mind was being mirrored by the spirits of the ship, or was their tensions being mirrored by her mind? She was lost in that thought as Lugganath slipped away from her sight, they had transitioned into the webway and the journey had begun.

    Releasing the breath she had held without realising it, she began the process of moving into the spirit world. It was like slipping sideways into your imagination for her. You would let go of the attachment to your body, but hold tightly to your mind your spirit and your thought, and then it would…

    There weren’t very many spirits on this ship, most of them were helping the crew with necessary functions, but their stories danced around the ship echoing their glories and their failures for all to hear. It was a symphony of sounds and thoughts, muddled by death and distractions. Irlityra listened to the names, to the stories, to the dreams and desires of those that could no longer fulfil them. She glided amongst the thoughts like the Arcadia flew through the heavens, she moved amongst them like a ghost. A ghost amongst ghosts.

    Irlityra attention was drawn to a name. Tantharal. He was… had been… on the Path of the Musician and Irlityra remembered hearing him play one evening when she was very young. He had been especially good with the star-harp, it was his favourite instrument and he’d spent hours telling stories to the children after his performance about it. She watched as his spirit wandered without purpose amongst the crowd of spirits. Transferring between the craftworlds infinity circuit and ships was not uncommon, normally though they managed to return to the craftworld in time. ‘Perhaps it was fate?’ he formless form pondered.

    Approaching his spirit, she became a mote of dust in his thoughts, unnoticed as he dreamed a scene from his life, as the spirits were want to do. He was sitting in a garden…somewhere…, the details were vague, for his memory was distorted by his death, with a small group of people. ‘Do I know these people?’ She heard the question and watched as the dream began again, repeated the first few moments of the dream again and again. She had seen this before, the spirit was trying to remember more details, but as they tried to remember more, they actually forgot more of the memory. The scene replayed itself over and over again, with the question ‘Do I know these people?’ echoing across his strand.

    To spare him from the sadness of this half remembered dream Irlityra made her presence known. She changed from a mote of dust, passively watching the scene to a radiant light, the light of the living and of life. The memory began to slip away from Tantharal’s attention but Irlityra caught hold of it and carefully preserved it in his mind. Tantharal watched as she preserved it against decay, she couldn’t restore the memory to its completed state thought.

    ‘I must be dreaming but I don’t remember falling asleep.’ Tantharal said in an unfocused voice. ‘Lileath?’ the word was slurred and half spoken but recognisable.

    Irlityra shook her head even though she had no head. Her features changed as Tantharal tried to remember what Lileath looked like to give her that form. Irlityra gently put a hand on his shoulder, his form becoming clear despite his incorporeal nature, and as she did so her form changed as well. She appeared as a double image, Tantharal only saw the young girl who had sat next to him and listened to his stories with wonder in her eyes, while Irlityra saw herself as the woman she is now.

    ‘Tantharal. Will you help me seek a great treasure?’ she said, great wisdom and power in the voice of a child. Tantharal nodded sluggishly in agreement, but the smile that lit up his face was almost as bright as Irlityra’s form.

    Irlityra’s eyes open once more upon the real world; it had been but a moment for everyone else. Her bleary gaze wandered across the bridge, not taking anything in, but searching for the seekers of the sword.

    ‘… but I don’t remember falling asleep.’ she mumbled in an unfocused voice as her gaze fell upon the Felarch.
  2. kanila kanila Subordinate

    Faenkon left the bridge, if this was to be their home for the foreseeable future he might as well know his way around. At first he wandered the halls taking in all the sights and sounds that only a Corsair vessel could provide. Finally ending in the observatory (assuming there would be an observation deck).
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  3. Amriel had no feelings regarding the departure of Lugganath. Mild happiness perhaps, that he was on a mission to help his people. Officially no longer on a Craftworld, he was wearing his full armor, minus mask and helm, and he would not remove them, save to bathe, until the mission was done. The imposing figure also strode the passageways of the ship, it would be important to know the layout in the event of a fight, as well as trying to locate where the ship's craftsmen would do their work.
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  4. Jorimel Jorimel Well-Known Member

    Yareli would never know if the description of Morvan as a warmongering Warlock caused an actual tremor in the petite Seer's personal skein. She had things to do. There was indeed a place there the crew of the Arcadia could gather and drink and socialise. It wasn't one of the two mess halls, and nor was it the contemplative Chamber of S0lace where one might lose oneself in incense and meditation. It was, approximately enough, every honest Craftworld princess' idea of a rowdy Corsair drinking establishment. There was an Eldar serving drinks, and he looked over at her, incredulously. He brushed his purple hair back out of his eyes and stared at Yareli.

    "Did you just ... SNAP your FINGERS at me?"

    He did not pour her a drink. He leaned on the bar slightly, as if studying a new species. His temper wasn't bubbling over yet, but Yareli had definitely turned up the heat on the pan.

    "And who in the name of the Bloody-Handed God's red-hot iron balls are you?"

    "Relax, Yatrishka," a voice said from behind the diplomat, a familiar tone. Yareli was firmly clasped on the shoulder by Reevia. She smiled, both at the Eldar behind the bar, and at Yareli, though it carried an edge of steel. "She was just trying to test your mettle. And you still have a terrible temper."

    "That's because I am surrounded by fools."

    "Then suffer them gladly and pass me a drink."

    Yatrishka rolled his eyes and brought Reevia a decanter of wine. And, with a little persuasion, two cups. The Void Dreamer led Yareli to a side table, if she would follow, where she sat down. She poured Yareli a glass of wine as an invitation to join her and took a sip of her own.

    "No voids to dream of for now," she said, beginning lightly. "So we need to talk, you and I." She waited to see if the Craftworlder would join her.



    @Uriel1339
  5. Jorimel Jorimel Well-Known Member

    Faenkon found his way to the observation dome quickly. It was logical to move towards the upper dorsal surface of the vessel, and he soon saw that he'd been right. A scatter of crew were making their way back from the dome, chattering and laughing amongst themselves after having viewed the spectacle of leaving the port.

    The Ranger could pass by almost unnoticed, a nod here and there if he chose, for the Corsairs were in good spirits. When he got to the dome, however, one Eldar remained.

    She was kneeling on the floor, surrounded by papers. Many of them bore traces of paint and charcoal and pencils, and she had another crayon in her hand, sketching with fluid rapidity. Her hands moved at a frantic pace, sketching in the details she had seen and combining them with the pictures in her mind. In front of her, a vivid image of Lugganath was taking shape. She didn't make any sign of having heard Faenkon approach.

    @kanila
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  6. kanila kanila Subordinate

    Faenkon quietly entered the room, taking a seat he observed the artist. It was rude to interrupt someone deep in concentration. And he for one did not wish to be the cause of a misplaced stroke. They had plenty of time aboard the vessel, what were a few minutes wait for introductions.
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  7. Jorimel Jorimel Well-Known Member

    Amriel could sense it. The readiness of the vessel for war. Oh, of a certainty, the Arcadia was a vessel ideal for exploration, shaped for seeking out the famed treasures of myth. But the ship's spirit was martial. The core of it was a warship, a sleek, fast, deadly predator, the essence of the stooping flight of a raptor given form. There was gentility in piracy for those that saw it as a game. There was also the potential for destruction and bloodshed. Freebooter or privateer, careless slaughter or magnanimity; it all turned on the whim of its Captain. And Iktomi was mercurial indeed.

    The Fire Dragon could feel the thread of potential violence running through the ship's core, branching like stranded wire. The obvious traces led to the port and starboard guns, the dorsal targeting arrays, the prow cannon, the aft lasers. The Arcadia was fiercely armed. But the more subtle signs, once the Fire Dragon could read them, led to the armoury and its twin.

    To Humanity, vulgar but yet blessed with their own living god, it would be a chapel. To the Eldar, bereaved of their divine parents and their brother the Craftsman, it was the Chamber of the Crafter's Remembrance, known by lazy tongues as the House of Vaul. Amriel had his weapons and his wargear from his own Shrine, but should he need to get them repaired, he should bring them here.

    There was a sound of someone singing from within the chamber - not the plainsong of the Bonesinger, nor the lively songs sometimes favoured by carousing Corsairs, but a simple tune designed to keep the rhythm of a hammer blow. Only, in this case, the ringing sound was as delicate as a butterfly's kiss.


    @MetalDog4
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  8. Amriel followed the sound of the singing to its source. He tended to hum in time to his own hammer, but to each their own he supposed. He had brought his own tools with him, one of his armor plates was making a squeaking noise after he had gotten a bit too close in his pursuit of a mon'keigh tank. But first, he would introduce himself to those working the forges, it was rude on his home craftworld to do otherwise, and he saw no reason for here to be any different.
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  9. Colapse Colapse Forum Beta Tester

    Standing behind the throne as the ship traversed into the Webway, Imaldris' face was devoid of any emotions. He was armed in his personal armor with the helm held safely on his hip with one hand and in the other his twin-edged spear was placed upright as if the Warlock himself was some sort of a honor guard to the commander of this vessel or even an ancient sentinel standing ever-watchful over the souls of the ship. In reality, he was of course neither of these things and as soon as the normal view was replaced for a peaceful-grey of the Labyrinth Dimension Imaldris gave a curt nod to those present and left the bridge, heading for one place where he would be able to inspect the martial strength of this vessel and its crew, the first thing they would need to conquer if they were to succeed in their quest.

    As he moved towards the training area of Arcadia, Imaldris felt as the various threads flew around the ship's core, the promises of violence and destruction intertwined with curiosity and patience often attributed to some deep void predators. Imaldris was prepared for combat as any other Warlock, perhaps even more so, but still his lips slightly twitched at being at this sort of a place. He wasn't used to going into battle with a crew of a Corsair ship, his mind attuned to fighting, or better word would be living, alongside fellow Craftworld Eldar from Ulthwé and this current situation put his patience to test.

    Shaking off melancholy, the Warlock put his mind to use in order to find the training area and see for his own eyes just one kind of mettle did the crew of this ship brought with them.
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  10. Uriel1339 Uriel1339 Lord of Posts

    With no fear but resilience she did not back off from the ill-tempered Eldar but instead met it with a soft smile. Letting him look at her closely she was about to reply when Reevia intervened. Perhaps to the better? With a curt nod she took the cups as the Dreamer took the bottle.

    "Just that you know, I could have handled the situation myself. I do not want to appear weak in front of this crew, especially once they hear of what my bond with your captain will be." The diplomat noted, as she sat down on the side table. Once seated, she took a sip of her cup, letting the flavors develop on her tongue as the little amount of liquid rolled back and forth, exploring what secret flavors it may hold. And once satisfied, swallowing it.

    "Anyhow, I thank you for your assistance and support, Void Dreamer Reevia. What do you exactly wish to talk about? I merely wanted to have a little... Refreshment before Morvan wants to start his war council." The noblewoman smiled soft, looking her with twinkling eyes right in the dreamers soul-mirrors. It was curiosity that made her eyes glow in a stronger than usual blue. As an ambassador in a foreign realm she could only imagine the possibilities of how this conversation go. Anything from tips and tricks of how to earn respect on a corsair ship up to the topic of Iktomi and her Soul-bond. But perhaps something completely innocent such as how Mymeara might be?


    @Jorimel
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