Dramatis Personae: Korg Magnusson presents an imposing figure, standing a towering six and a half feet, and looking to weigh close to three hundred pounds. This impression is not diminished in the least by the full suit of plate armor he wears, in a dull gray sheen but obviously of superior craftsmanship... and ornamented with spikes that seem anything but ornamental. Across his back is slung an immense sword, the hilt projecting over his right shoulder, and the tip about even with his left knee. Both the sword and armor look to be very well maintained, the dull finish being intentional rather than a result of corrosion and neglect. Looking closely at Korg's face starts to draw into question whether or not he is actually human; he bears the square jaw and faintly greyish-tinged skin (and longer than normal canines if anyone has a chance to see his teeth) that would indicate half-Orc blood, but other than that he looks human. None of it would be enough to bring his race into question if it weren't for his size. His hair is cut short, black and unkempt and his eyes are brown. A large scar runs from the bridge of his nose down his left cheek to his jawline, and there is a nick taken out of the top of his right ear. He also seems to never actually be clean shaven or going so far as having a beard, instead always having his cheeks and jaw covered with stubble. Standing not-so-tall at 4'6", Roland doesn't appear to be very intimidating or very hostile. He is clearly a monk, his head shaven clean, his tattered monk's outfit nearly spotless, yet still worn from travel, but the man seems not to care. He appears to be in his early 20's, but his eyes carry much more wisdom than one would estimate. The tattoo of the symbol of Ryl on his right inner-wrist dictates that some of said knowledge could possibly be god-given. His peircing stare and cold black eyes seem to see all around him, and the gentle, quiet movements of his body appear to be both practiced and easy at the same time. Roland's face is that of a man much larger than he, with a firm jawline and handsome, bronzed skin tones. One can tell from the short man's build that he must either do a lot of walking, or that his outfit weighs about 200 pounds. Either way, nothing about him seems out of place. His demeanor is that of a man so selfless that people inherently know that he is good and honorable. The only odd thing is that it's hard to tell where exactly he might be from. Marcus stands a few inches short of six feet, his lanky form encased in well-maintained dark leathers with black fur trim and a dark green cloak. His eyes constantly scanning for new horizons to explore and their smoky depths hinting at the touch of the wildness in his heart. His stance and mannerisms are those of a born nomad, preferring activity to rest. His dark brown hair hangs down to just beneath his shoulder blades; a pair of braids keeps it’s length from blocking his face. A short scraggly beard covers part of his weathered features. At his feet lay a rather ornate pack and a large wooden shield, a curved blade rides on his left hip. As the wind blows the cloak a quiver on his right hip can be seen holding a few darts and a dagger sheathed on his calf. His voice when he speaks has the softness of a summer breeze, and his words are those of a high court noble not a lowly vagabond. Segev Stormlord is a 23-year-old man of plain appearance. His unemotional expression sometimes quirks into annoyance, sardonic humor, or intrigued interest, but usually returns to a carefully practiced mask before too long. His blond hair is cropped short, and his blue eyes are faded rather than striking. He seems unassuming at first glance, but there is an intensity of focus about him that can set more perceptive people on edge. Almost invariably dressed in loose, all-encompasing black robes, he replaced the sandals he used to wear with a pair of stout boots after his first adventure. The blisters and inconvenience of the sandals was unacceptable. However, due to the aforementioned robes, it is often difficult to see his feet at all. The robes are secured by a strong leather belt. However, the belt itself is more in place to provide a secure place to hang things than to hold the robes. A chain holding his spellbook, a sheath for a wickedly curved dagger, and several pouches of varying sizes and security of closure are arrayed along its length. He also carries an iron-bound black oak quarterstaff in his left hand, which he uses as a walking stick when traveling. For additional incidental protection from the environment, he has a cloak (also black - his wardrobe isn't particularly creative nor varied) with a hood that he wears over everything else. When not adventuring, he often replaces the belt with a simple sash with fewer pouches hanging from it. He still wears the dagger, though sometimes hides it in his voluminous robes, so as to avoid upsetting people. Tanda stands relaxed, almost five and a half feet tall and built trim like a well-made sailboat. Her auburn hair is swept back behind her ears with a few wispy bangs over her forehead, and barely fails to reach her shoulders. Her eyes are blue, but a closer look reveals some green flecks in them. The first thing most notice about her in a combat situation is her armor, which more closely resembles a dull-finished rust-red leather unitard with three straps securing the front and small metal plates and bands carefully concealed over its surface, allowing for a great deal of protection while maximizing range of motion. She also wears soft but sturdy knee-high boots, and a staggered metal vambrace on her left forearm. A composite shortbow and quiver of arrows are slung across her back, with a black-hilted rapier riding on her left hip. Her traveller's outfit (worn when she wishes to play up her femininity) is remarkably prosaic by comparison, with a white short-sleeved blouse, black leather vest, and a black knee-length skirt with straps and buckles holding shut a slit down the left thigh. Most of the time, however, when not expecting trouble she wears a loose green shirt with pockets and tight leather breeches. Though petite in size, Menaria's glowing personality and smile hides the fact of her small size. At 5'4" and weighing around 105 lbs, her creamy tan colored skin is smooth and unblemished. Having long luxurious black hair, a little below the buttocks, brings out the blue in her sapphire eyes. Her eyebrows are slight and dark like her hair. Her face is round and reflects her jovial mood. Her nose slightly comes to a point at the end, making her face seem nobile yet serene. When near her the smell of flowers in the springtime crosses your mind, whether it is the soap she uses or the shampoo in her hair. She often wears dark blue clothing, ranging from shirts and leggins to robes that have a slit on both sides that reach all the way up to her slinder hips. She keeps her bangs tied back in a leather strip, but allows the remaining of her hair to flow freely. She carries no visible weapons, and wears armbands with the designs of a dragon in flight upon them. Her fingers long and slender and her nails long and curved slightly. Her stance is calm and assured. And adorned around her neck is a necklace--a golden ankh with rays coming off the top. During the warmer days, she wears sandles that almost wrap up to her knees; in the winter/colder days she wears knee-high leather boots. GMly Note: Those of you who didn't get me physdescs can still get them to me, I'll work you into the mailings as I get them. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The city of Caer Zitheral is much as one would expect from a port city. Located along the southwestern shorelines are secluded coves, white sand beaches, and rows upon rows of docks under which ships flying the colors of several nations are constantly coming and going. These ships normally fly the colors of Redwater, Marach, Caer Ritaegno, Caer Zitheral, and New Hope, although every so often one ship flying the colors of one of the independant northern raider clans, the elven nation of Al Quenda, or Freehold can be seen on the fringes. Moving away from the docks, the city is seen to be clean, with numerous temples, each dedicated to a different deity. The business district sits outside that, with an open-air marketplace, alchemist shops, wizard shops, bookstores, weaponsmiths, armorsmiths, blacksmiths, woodworkers, cobblers, occasionally a barrister, lots and lots of stores dealing with planting and gardening, and even the occasional theatre stage. Three banks dominate the corners of the business district. Places to eat and get drinks are plentiful, with bards and minstrels playing in them at all times. The city watch, composed of close to 100 people throughout the entire city, are a constant presense on the streets. Past the business district sits the residential areas, with the ruling castle located off to the northern end, and the slums near the southeastern edge of the city. Most of the people in the city are either pinkskin human, high elf, or half-elf, although there is an interesting mix of most of the other races. The city has had a definite elvish influence on its archetecture, most of which resemble natural features and tones. It is currently high noon, on the second day of the second week of the sixth month. The city celebrated the Festival of Akanksha last night during the double full moon, and you are just now waking up in your lodgings on the third floor of the Temple of Akanksha, having been asked by the priestesses to stay the night following the Festival--which ended around midnight, but some of the after-Festival festivities kept you awake until almost dawn. The Temple of Akanksha is a three-story building with a stone fascade. The main temple is two stories tall, with storage rooms, the business office, and the High Priestess's private chambers in the back on the ground floor. The rest of the second floor and the entire third floor is priestess and guest chambers. Suddenly, over the ringing bells that seem to dominate this time of day (incidentally, the same bells that have just now woken you up), you hear a piercing scream coming from down the hallway. Right now, none of you are wearing armor, nor do you have your weapons nearby, as those are in the storage rooms elsewhere in the temple. Clothing is optional. Akanksha is a goddess of love and sex, after all, not war or violence. She doesn't even go in for light bondage. Note: Any animals you own would be in the stables in the back of the temple. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Mythology Lesson #1 Creation of the Gods and the World Galsus is the oldest of the gods, and is in fact considered the father of many of the other gods. It is said by some that Galsus came into being with the birth of the world, but others credit him with the world's creation. What is known is that Galsus's life is tied to that of the world, and the prophecies read that when one dies, the other will quickly follow suit. Not long after the creation of the world, Galsus decided he needed help in running the place. To create a companion, he formed a woman from the very dirt of the world, set her head with a headdress made of leaves of every tree in every shade, and breathed life into her. Because of her creation, being from the very nature of the world, she was named Hassann, and elevated to godhood. Hassann was Galsus's first wife, but the two were very different in their approach to running the world. She created beautiful landscapes, forest groves, and rolling grass-covered hills. Galsus, on the other hand, created the first animals, starting with the simplest to the most complex. Together, they shaped the world and made it a beautiful place. Hannass, however, grew lonely, and soon gave birth to her first children: Fehrest, the goddess of women; Kaimana, the god of the seas; Nyyssan, goddess of the hearth and home; Hextor, god of law; and Golma, the god of life. All of the gods and goddesses were eager to aid their parents, save Hextor. He saw the world his parents had created, but desired it for himself. Seeking to disillusion his father with ruling the world, he fashioned the first sword and killed his brother Golma, who was Galsus's favorite. Galsus was enraged by the death of his favorite son, and fashioned a sword of his own, seeking to end the life of his rebellious son. He was stopped, however, when Hassann sacrificed her own life to bring Golma back from the dead. Having been touched with death, the resurrected Golma became the benign god of death, whose only goal in life is to judge the recently deceased, sending them to whatever rewards and punishments they earned in their lives. His first act was to send his mother's soul back to another body; she became known as Hannass following her rebirth. His second act was to refuse to accept his brother's soul; Hextor would continue to live, regardless of how deadly the wounds he received. Galsus took his daughter Fehrest as his second wife, and with her fathered numerous other gods: Ryl, goddess of wisdom; the twins Navor and Vy, god and goddess of light, knowledge, and all of its related fields; Gessa, goddess of woodlands and the hunt; Moradin, the hard-working god of the forge; Vilhelmo, the new god of valiant war; Akanksha, the goddess of love; and Kael, the dour god of justice, among numerous others. Next: The creation of the Mortal Races.