The Church [MM Event]

[Masked Entity]

Location Two-Alpha: The Church.

Out of all the buildings and shops within Londinium, one could only expect there to be a hold out to the curfew. When orders are given, there are always the deviants who wish to make a stand or prove their opposing point, simply because it is in their nature. Even in war or during a tragedy, there will always be one being that does not fall into fear, or one that does not accept their fate. One would also expect there to be some sort of neutral zone within both categories; a place where birds of peace may rest without worry. This place is usually left to the church. The church is known for its peace and open arms to all who may be in peril and it used to be a safe haven. And that, was its downfall.

Showing its defiance in the face of danger, the church in Londinium kept its doors open. The priests within ignored the calls from the Nobles to close their doors after a certain time, using the reasoning that all were welcome and that many homeless sought refugee in the Abbey's walls. With the expectation that no evil would dare cross through their threshold, the Priests remained in their sanctuary. After the kidnappings began, many homeless flocked to the church, expecting protection. At first there were no issues and the targeted Landers were merchants, lower ranking nobles, and children. However the church slowly became a central location for the kidnappings. One by one, the homeless Landers vanished from around the church. Every night, the Priests greeted fewer and fewer people until finally only one homeless fellow walked through the doors. It was at that point, that the Priests finally shut their doors. By then it was too late. The next evening, two of the five Priests vanished followed by two more the next. Now, only one Priest remains at the helm of the church. Out of fear, he closed the doors to the abbey completely and guards have been placed at the entrance.

His decision to seal the doors was made after an eerie message was left behind on the left wall of the church. The worlds are burned into the stone and miasma hovers around the letters like a curse. Not even the Priests' purification methods have been successful in removing the miasma. The message reads the following;

The sounds of the city's silent prayers whisks through air, quietly begging to the heavens for relief. However, this prayer shall be granted none. By the power flowing through my veins, and by the will of my soul, your world shall burn before your eyes!

In order to try and understand the situation, the Nobles sent a task force of four Adventurers to investigate the message and the church. They have picked up on the trail left behind but after heading out to follow the lead, the Adventures have disappeared. Your job is to go into the church and find what they found. Search the premise of the Church to try and find the clues left behind!

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Inside the church, players will find five points of interest: The message on the wall and the miasma curse, the priest himself, the alter, the left bench in the tenth row, and the room where the scriptures are maintained. All of these locations have traces of mana left behind. However, be wary while investigating the message. The miasma is not what it may seem.... Investigate all five points of interest to locate the clues you need to find your missing allies.

This portion requires EM intervention. As you wander around the church and search for clues, the EM will post in response to what you see, what happens when you perform an action, and may reveal something that you find. If you wish to point something out or draw an EM’s attention to an action, place an asterisk (*) in your post. The EM will respond as soon as possible. If other players post before your action is answered by the EM, do not respond and do not advance. If you do, you may lose your chance to find a clue. The EM will notify you in the thread with a tag as soon as possible.

It is also suggested that if you wish to investigate an area of the location designated, cut off your post and end it when you are at the ‘searching’ portion. This will allow for a bit easier of a transition and will make more sense in-character ( i.e. if you investigate a blood spot, end your post at that. If you continue and walk away from the blood spot, that tells me that you weren’t interested in it for some reason and thus, I will not respond or may discount your finding of it).

The party size allowed for this location is capped at 4. It is suggested that you bring along a Mage or an Alchemist. However, the first non-magical character will be given an Enchanted Monocle by one of the NPCs guarding the building.

*Just to note that a position in the party cannot be saved by a tag. If you tag a player, they are not necessarily guaranteed to show up. If someone else posts before your ally posts and the party cap is reached, your ally will not be allowed into the event and it will be closed. This is open to the public, but it is open only to the quickest.


In order to get the Monocle, your post must be more than 500 words and there may not be more than 200 words of dialogue. If you want the monocle, you must earn it. If you have earned it, the EM will post the NPC giving you the Monocle. Do not approach the NPC expecting the Monocle in any circumstance and do not include them giving you said Monocle in your post. Doing so will disqualify you automatically. To your character, the Monocle does not exist and you were never informed of its existence at all. The character who is given the Monocle automatically gets it added to their reward list, but they do not get to roll for any other items at the end of the event. If you meet the requirements to achieve the Monocle, you will be given it. You may not dodge it. However, it may be passed to another player once given out. Upon being passed, the other player cannot pass the Monocle and they also lose their ability to roll for rewards. Upon receiving the Monocle, you must make your decision to keep it or not in your next post. Think of this has a piece of lit dynamite. It can be useful to you in the event and increase your ability to complete the tasks, but it can become extremely dangerous to your health if used incorrectly.

*You must perform actions that allow for progression in the thread to qualify for the Monocle if you try for it.


If no players reach the requirement to retrieve the Monocle, a player may be randomly selected to receive it. If you want it, get it. If you don't, be aware that you might get stuck with it.


If you have participated in a previous location in this Event, you may not join another. The reason for this is to give everyone a chance to play. If you miss your chance to jump into another spot, sorry! It's your loss! But do not let that bother you. In due time, your location might turn out to be the more... fun.

Be prepared for EM intervention at all times. Remember; he is not always on your side.

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Rewards

Due to this being a competition event as well as a storyline event, Rewards will stack. What that means is that you will not receive your rewards until the absolute end of the storyline. Thus, they are always in danger of being lost, stolen, challenged, or simply take from you in general. However you also have a high chance of scoring big in the end. But how much will you gamble?

To the event posted above, The Church, there are five possible endings. The ending your team achieves will determine your rewards.

Perfect End: All clues are found. Your team will receive one Star Candy or an Item from the list below, a voucher, and a pass into the next thread.

Completion End: Your team found the main clue that ultimately leads to the next section, but you did not find all of the clue. You receive a voucher and a pass into the next thread.

Stall End: Your team did not find the main clue and cannot proceed normally into the next section. You receive a voucher and a pass into a secondary thread. Your items will be up for grabs here, be wary of how you proceed.

Failure End: Your team did not find any clues, did not find the main clue, or simply failed to find enough information at the provided scene. You lose. Thanks for playing!

UNKNOWN: Keying this end will result in immediate EM intervention and further details will be given out then. All forward progression may be stopped. The suggestion, though, is to not screw up. Good luck!

Once the scene above is completed and an End is reached, participants will roll for rewards if applicable.

All participants may receive one of the following:

STAR CANDY CANE RAPIER
STAR CANDY LOLLIPOP MACE
STAR CANDY PIXIE STICK
STAR CANDY LICORICE CUTTER
STAR CANDY CORN BLADE
STAR CANDY JELLYBEAN KNUCKLE
STAR CANDY GUMDROP SHIELD
STAR CANDY JAWBREAKER
STAR CANDY PEZ SHOTGUN


Masked Plushie - A plushie which resembles a strange and unknown figure that has recently been terrorizing Londinium. The plushie is a white little critter with a black shirt and black pants. It wears a dark red hooded cloak and has a white mask that covers its face. The eyes are as dark and empty as a lightless room and the mouth is thin with stitches across it.

Enchanted Monocle - A monocle that has been enchanted by the Person of the Land, Theodore Rasenwald. By wearing the monocle, one can see the traces of magic in the world even if they aren't a mage or an Alchemist. However, after wearing the monocle for a long period of time, your eye will begin to strain. Wear it too long and you may go blind.

Enchanted Ring - A simple gold ring with a set of three sapphire jewels nestled into its width. The center jewel is slightly larger than the other two. When this ring is near any sort of mana source or is placed near traces of mana, the jewels will begin to glow. The stronger the mana source, the brighter the glow.

Vanity Voucher - One voucher for any kind of vanity accessory made by the Funeral Parlor. The maximum level of the vanity item will match your level, unless you are above the level of twenty. If so, it will be level twenty. The description for this item is free, should you choose to leave its description to the crafter.

Parlor Voucher - A voucher for the store, the Funeral Parlor. By placing this voucher in the sign-in book at the Funeral Parlor store, you will find that the cost of your items is lower than normal. Show this voucher and you may take a percentage off of one batch of items at the Funeral Parlor (maximum of 4). This voucher also allows you to get one free vanity item below the level of twenty, and pays for the fee of all custom item descriptions in your purchase. If the item is below the level of 30, it will be free. If the item is between the levels of 31 - 50, take 50% off. If the item is between 51 - 70, take 25% off. If the item is between 71 - 90, take 15% off. If the item is above 90, then this voucher is not applicable. Sorry! A merchant has to make money somewhere!

[Deleted]

Things were uneasy in the usual peaceful town of London. What were once bustling, crowded streets filled with Adventurers and Landers alike had become desolate and abandoned. Buildings and shops were closed up tightly by early evening and some didn't open at all, regardless of the time or weather. Rumors and whispers had turned to truth as it became more and more apparent that people were being whisked away, disappearing into the darkness without a trace. Adventurers were being called upon left and right to investigate the disappearances. Artemisia, too, had found herself the subject of one of these pleas. A group of four had already been dispatched to the Church but, after some time, had also disappeared. A new request had been issued, this time to not only investigate the disappearance of the Lander Priests but the four Adventurers who may or may not have stumbled into something more than they could handle.

Responding to the call for help, the fox tail Sorcerer found herself standing outside the Westminster Abbey. She knew of the building and it held a strange sort of feeling for her – this was where Adventurers would appear if they died. Almost as if nothing had happened to them, they would be transported and basically re-spawned. It was a strange concept to accept. Artemisia approached the wide, wooden doors of the Church and extended her hand. As she pulled open the heavy doors, her thoughts wandered, wondering what on earth was going on. Who was behind all of this? To even attack the Church, which sought only to be a safe haven for the people of this world? She didn't fear for her life, as she knew she would only reappear in this same church should her fate go south but for the Landers who were disappearing... if they passed away, they would not return. There were still things which scared the young woman though, things that could be done to the other Adventurers which would not kill them but perhaps be worse than that. She wished them, and herself, well.

Artemisia stepped inside the Church and looked around. A cool, stale air filled the room with its high ceilings and old wooden benches. A vague smell of mold and old books assaulted her nose as she stepped in further. Her shoes clicked off the floor, echoing against the empty benches. Standing at the front of the building, looking stressed and deep in thought, was the one remaining Priest. On a wall to her left, she saw writing scrawled. She had heard that a message had been left behind. She wanted to hear the whole story, from the start, from the Priest who had experienced it. She could sense a vague amount of mana, as if spells had been cast, from some of the areas of the Church but she would get to those later. She stepped up to the man and nodded politely, introducing herself. “Hello, I'm sorry about what happened to your friends, um..” She glanced around the church and then back at the Priest. “I'm Artemisia and I'm here to help, I hope. Can you start by just recounting what happened? I've heard the story, more or less, when I got word you were looking for help but any more details you could add in for me would be helpful,” She was sure it was difficult to talk about but she needed as much information as possible.

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Notes: I'm here~! I gave everything a read over so hopefully I've done this right : P
Words: 574
Tags: Masked Entity

[Deleted]

Words: 375
Tags: @sugarygiggles, Masked Entity

This request turned out to be a weird one for Oxford. Well, technically, it wasn't a request per se, but more of a rumor that piqued his curiosity. One of those scary stories parents tell their children to make sure they aren't wandering around the church at night, making sure they come home on time lest they get kidnapped. Stuff like that. Treating it as such, Oxford happened to ask one of the Landers in the surrounding area as to what that was all about. The man froze on the spot, his arm shaking as he held out the requested food item to the Guardian. Oxford watched with concern as a cold, clammy sweat began to envelop the man as he looked back and forth down the streets. "The church..." was all the Guardian could manage to get from the frightened purveyor. Not wanting to upset him any further, Oxford quickly handed over his payment and began the trek towards the church. As he walked around the town, he would ask Landers along the way as to what was the mystery behind the church. He scribbled down the responses of those that would actually remark on the matter, but they were quick and curt. Almost as if they were scared that they too would be snatched if they expounded too much about it. His curiosity heightened and his eyes alight with a fervor to figure out what was going on, Oxford made his way towards the church. Making his way inside, he saw that he wasn't the only one curious as to what was happening around here. A petite, blonde girl with the unmistakable ears of a Fox-Tail protruding from her head was asking the only remaining Priest details about the incident. Figuring he should make his presence known to avoid startling anyone, Oxford cleared his throat loudly. The walls of the church amplified sound much too well as the sound of AHEM echoed everywhere. "Uh, I'd like to know a bit more about what's going on here too," he said, meekly raising his hand while giving a sheepish grin as the echo died down.

template coded by oxford of ET

[Tobin]

(ooc: AND MY AXE! Masked Entity)

WC: 586

For a change on this midsummer of days, the Dwarf's step carried a sense of urgency as his short stride carried him down the once vibrant Edward's street for it was that time of month where landers took to the safety of within their walls of monsters and threats unseen. Back in the real world he might have scoffed at such rumours. After all, in a world where social media penetrated everything and lain personal lives bare while the media spun a web of information on the villains of today for a hefty profit, rumours were easy to catch for all but the most isolated. From chain posts that claimed to be cursed to and creepy-pastas of otherwise ordinary subjects to projections of the end times, scare mongers cultivated it all. The most iconic scare tales often originated around a few select characters, pinhead suited men or stalked little children to hocky masked psychopaths to Jack the Ripper, a Polish serial killer turned legend. Tobin felt a slight upward tug on his lips as he flashed the certification paper as he marched up the church steps, people in the previous world had craved drama to add spice in a otherwise structured life.

Tobin paused as his hands rested on double doors of the church, a dark memory of a black suit flickered in mind, a memory suppressed with a voluntary shiver, The Dwarf knew better then to scoff these days since here, those nightmares had the potential to become real. Snapped like a twig, those luminous eyes of green, baring witness-

"I could turn back. Let somebodeh else deal width it."

The words slid out, but even to him they sounded hallow. Selfish as he was it fell to adventurers like him to end these nightmares, his pride wouldn't allow him to skip on his body bound duty, so with a deep breath he forced the memory of that encounter to the back of his mind and shoved.

"Alrites, lets hav' a gander."

The doors parted with a firm shove and he strode through, allowing the loud groan of shifting wood creaking pannels and the loud echo of his heavy boots announce his presence. At a glance two adventurers were already beginning to tend to the priest so wordlessly the half stryder drifted to the left wall, satisfied that their investigation would yield results. Tobin had saved his beard at it's centre to grow out mejestic sideburns, so his finger and thumb rubbed gently against the stubble of broad chin as he turned to examine exhibit 1. The writing on the wall. As he examined it the rumbles of his voice was soft as he murmured, voicing it aloud to taste the words on his own tongue.


"Sound oaf city... Begging heavens for release? Hmph, sounds lik' heretic bantar ta me. Blessin' granted none... Power n veins, well, et dun't sound lik' old slandie at least. Wouldn't wanna tussle width tha' again."

The Dwarf paused to pull out a hip flask, incorked the drink and took a swig of the strong apple rum within; though not of the holy variety the warmth in his stomach was already a reassurance as he read the final lines.

"'n' by tha' will of mah soul, your world will burn befor' ya eyes."

A bush brow eyebrow was raised; almost as if he expected to be struck by something by just reading it. Though for the time being found time for a slight rumble in his throat.

"Hmph, tha's rich."

[Deleted]

Goooing to the chapel and we're... gooona catch a killer. Dorian rolled his eyes, irritated by the Shikigami's lack of tact when it came to serious matters like this. The entire city was abuzz with the news of so many kidnappings, and the count was beginning to get too high for adventurers to ignore. Not that they should have ignored them in the first place. Hearing of the recent troubles that had befallen the Abbey, the Shaman had decided to finally try his luck; he was no Sherlock Holmes, but he had watched enough CSI and detective shows before the Catastrophe to know something. Besides, it wouldn't hurt to give the place a look, would it?

Releasing a soft sigh, Dorian made his way through the city, noticing the uneasy feeling of the streets themselves. He could rarely feel a presence this strong, especially not within the safety of the city; but the air in town was beginning to reek of fear and terror. Whoever was behind this was causing a lot of turmoil, and needed to be stopped before things got even more out of hand. The few 'merchant nobles' - as they called themselves - that Dorian had intermingled with a few days ago, had an air of worry about them; it was the first time the Shaman had been tipped off to what was going on in the city. And yet, despite Skrowe's lovely singing voice, Dorian hoped beyond hope that whoever this was... he just hoped there was still a chance to save some people. "Keep your eye out for anything suspicious, Skrowe; I need you to be the metaphorical eyes on the back of my head." And with that order, the two of them approached the heavy oak doors to the church, and air of trepidation already looming over him as he slipped inside on his light, silent feet.

Noticing that he was not alone in the room, his eyes first went to the two adventurers talking to the priest, asking him questions; a good start, questioning the witness. Dorian recognised the back of Artemisia's form, giving a soft smile at the familiar face, but deciding to catch up later, when they weren't busy with a case like this. But two was already enough to handle interrogations, so the Shaman turned his head towards the left wall, where he saw Tobin, another familiar face, studying the message burned into the stone. Giving the dwarf a nod, his attention was then brought to something peculiar.

There were many traces of power emanating around the room; though he was a weakling when it came to detecting magic and spiritual auras, he could definitely pick out something in the benches that were neatly arranged within the middle of the room. Moving down the centre aisle, between the two sets of benches, his hands trailing over the tops of each one, he closed his eyes as he slowly moved forward, looking for a sign of something. There... Can you feel that? His feet brought him to a stop rather quickly at the tenth row of benches; turning his head to the left, he felt the presence - or, more aptly, a trace - of mana here. Curiosity snaring him, the Shaman shifted in to sit upon the aforementioned bench, looking around the room before investigating the spot he had place himself in. *

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Notes: N/A
Words: 559
Tags: Masked Entity @sugarygiggles @0x1dea Tobin

[Masked Entity]

They say you may wash your sins in the baths of the Church but what if even the Church has sinned? Is there forgiveness if the Gods themselves commit evil? Questions without answers find themselves in a limbo, floating for eternity. However, even if the Church has wronged, people continue to flock through its doors in search of saving. They would find none here. The Adventurers who came in response to a call would find the Church empty aside for the Priest, and that Priest was beginning to turn over. The times were hard in Londinium and for the Church, they were struggling. People abandoned God and took faith into their own hands. When many returned for protecting under God’s hand, they were whisked away and stolen by the night. The Priest found himself torn. The Lord didn’t even protect his own friends and now, left him alone. In that time spent alone, the writing on the walls burned into the Priest’s soul and carved pieces of it away. Slowly, it ate him. He began to hear whispers in the walls, felt eyes from the corners, and soon the Priest could no longer hear the bells from the Heavens. His safe haven became a prison.

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@sugarygiggles, @0x1dea:

The first to arrive did not seem to bother with the clues around the room and her curiosity brought her straight to the man at the altar. His eyes seemed distant, hollow as he looked at her. Her words were far off tone in his mind and he could barely understand the words she muttered. His mind was cracked and his thoughts unraveled. He stared at the little Sorceress, her words falling on nearly deaf ears as she attempted to pry information from him. She expected a recounting of the scene and of the world, but instead she would learn of his corruption. The writing on the wall was more than just a threat.

“He exists…” The Priest whispered.

“He is coming… That is why we’re being taken…” The Priest stared down the Sorceress, his eyes open wide as he spoke words once unknown to him.

“I can hear him, his growling. I can hear his curses and I can feel his anger. I once thought Satan was fearsome, but this is different… We are being herded like cattle!” The Priest’s voice quickly escalated into a shout which boomed through the church, but it was overwritten by a forceful insertion by a new face; the Guardian. All of the color in the Priest’s face faded and he gripped at the altar tightly. The sudden noise seemed to release him slightly from the dark chains in his mind.

“You are all fools, coming here. My brothers and our people are nothing but sliver of what may happen... All of Londinium will burn by his wrath…” The Priest squeezed the altar tighter. The Dwarf whom had entered the room and began to examine the words would find a reaction there…

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Tobin:

The words would begin to twist and blur before the dwarf, the miasma lingering around it would start to expand and grow as the Priest talked. The Man of God was the catalyst now, and his activity was stirring the darkness. Slowly, the miasma would swirl into a massive storm right before the short man and then shoot forth, a massive hand appearing out from the dark cloud. It was a large limb the size of four men stacked on top of one another, and had claws as long as two meters which were sharper than any sword ever created. The hand would come down on the dwarf in a mist, covering the stout man in darkness. Words and whispers would corrupt his mind, screams of peril and agony would fill his ears, and hundreds of hands would grab onto his body from the darkness that would blind him; these hands would hold him still. Time would slow here as the Dwarf would find himself trapped. In the darkness, a black eye would open. An eye darker than the night, one that belonged to a creature that even the Devil would fear. It would stare at the dwarf, narrow, and then open as a black fire began to burn around the edges of the eye’s lids.

A moment later, the dwarf would find his mind stained with the sight of Londinium burning. People would be running in the streets to their deaths and Adventurers would be fighting as demonic figures waged war on the city. Massive winged creatures fell on the city, devouring the People of the Land and stole the souls of many Adventurers as to seal them away. Buildings collapsed in the wake of massive muscular beasts that stood as tall as a castle and others were burned to nothing but ash. Blood stained the rivers and the skies were dark. In the distance, the dwarf would see a massive black silhouette looming at the edge of the city. Its figure was indistinguishable, but the presence of power and rage that poured out from its existence would be undeniable. Upon looking at it, the eyes would open and would pierce the dwarf’s very soul.

A low rumble would echo through the dwarf’s mind, and then it would all go dark. The mist of miasma would vanish and the Dwarf would be released. In the Dwarf’s mind, nearly ten minutes would have passed but in reality it was only seconds. Those who looked on would see the mist reach out and crash down on the dwarf. The mist would cloud around him for several moments, and then suddenly disperse and retreat back into the wall. The words would fade and the miasma would still. Suddenly, the Priest collapsed. He did not faint, but all of his strength would be sapped from his legs.

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@serenityspace:

However, that was not all that would be strange in the Church. The bench the Shaman would investigate would look normal at first. However upon further investigation, the Shaman would find himself staring at something small and almost indistinguishable from the floor; a piece of cloth. The cloth was black and its threads were entwined with dark magic. Simply touching it would bring pain to one’s fingers and its presence was mystical and overpowering. The thread of the cloth itself was unknown to Londinium but it was not entirely foreign. One might consider taking this to someone who would know more about fabrics…

[Deleted]

Dorian shifted across multiple times, investigating the spot where he was seated, finding nothing at first, but he knew something was here, something he needed to find; the mana signatures were bumping up whenever he shifted just the right way, and his senses were beginning to tingle in anticipation. "Eureka," he whispered under his breath, not wanting to disturb the quiet of the church as he disappeared behind the back of the bench in front of him, diving down to spy something under his bench that had caught his eye. Peering into the darkened area under the wooden seating, he spotted a delicate piece of cloth, not too different from his own armour; albeit a lot more powerful in nature, judging by the touch of mana he had detected from it. It was difficult to spy out, given it's blackened appearance, which seemed to blend almost perfectly with the shadows beneath. Reaching out, he moved to snag his fingers on it, only to jerk his hand back with a quiet yelp as pain suddenly shot into his fingers. "This is incredibly dark magic at work here..."

Grasping the sleeve of his armour, he tore off a bit of it, using it to wrap around his palm and the lower halves of his fingers; this should allow him to pick up the fabric without having to worry about the pain. Making a quick jabbing grasp at the fabric - gritting through the pain as the tips of his fingers collided with the dark weave of mana, he sprung it into his palm, letting it rest atop the protective barrier between it and his skin. Moving to lift his head, he felt it bump against the bottom of the bench, causing an angry squeak from Skrowe. Rubbing his head apologetically, he manoeuvred his way back up to stand, reappearing where he once was with the clue in hand. Inspecting it closely in the new light, he noted the fact that the thread seemed somewhat foreign to Londinium... He'd have to take it to a tailor at some point to get a better idea, though he made a mental note to share his findings with the rest of his group first.

Alas, it looked as if the three of them were still engrossed in their own investigations, Artemisia and the man beside her questioning the priest, while Tobin continued to stare at the words on the wall, as if caught in a trance. Leaving them to it, Dorian stepped out into the middle of the room; if he found the fabric from detecting mana signatures, perhaps his Mage ways could help him find other areas to inspect. Closing his eyes, he pushed his hands together in front of his chest, making a low hum of vibration upon his lips as he searched for anomalies in the near vicinity. As a level 1, he had yet to gain a greater influence over magic, so his vision was not as strong as it most likely was for the fox tail; but, he picked up a few things. Besides the priest himself and the words on the wall, which were already being investigated, and the cloth now stashed in his inventory, the only other signatures he could detect were on the altar itself - an odd finding, but a finding nonetheless - and a reading towards the back rooms behind the altar.

With a gentle sigh, the Shaman opened his eyes, stepping forwards to approach the priest and the other two Adventurers, before stepping off to the side. Giving Artemisia's shoulder a gentle tap, he gestured with a subtle glance towards the altar, trying his best to bring it to her attention. Before she could say anything, he gave her a silent nod, turning to move towards the door behind to the left of the room, behind the group of three and the altar. Grasping the handle, he pushed on it to swing it in on itself, opening it wide and stepping inside the newly discovered room; he proceeded to close the door behind him, making a little bit of noise so as to make sure the others knew where he went. His eyes went wide as he realised he had found himself in a regular sized room, a few times smaller than the main room, where most of the walls were covered in large bookcases filled with books and scrolls of varying sizes and shapes. It seemed that the signature he had detected lead him towards this new room, most likely where the scriptures of the church were stored and maintained. Scratching at his head, he gave himself a confident nod, looking back over at the door before pushing himself on to explore the room, beginning his investigation and keeping his mind open for any spikes in mana nearby. *

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Notes: N/A
Words: 801
Tags: Masked Entity @sugarygiggles @0x1dea Tobin

[Deleted]

The Priest she had approached stared with sunken, empty eyes, as if looking at something far off in the distance. His posture was closed in on himself, his hands shaking slightly and his fingers fidgeting mindlessly, wringing together in some sort of subconscious effort to perhaps calm himself. After a moment of silence, he slowly turned to look at her, turning his blank look upon her. Artemisia felt a chill run down her spine as she met the gaze of the holy man. She wasn't even entirely sure if he was seeing or hearing her or something else entirely. He parted his chapped lips and, in a quiet tone, began to speak to her.. or at least, he began to speak. His eyes widened as he continued, his vision focusing on her form. His words were not a recount of the event as she had requested but some paranoid mutterings. He was existed and he was coming. He, who? The Sorceress wondered, her eyebrows knitting together as she listened to the cryptic words. His voice grew louder, more panicked and more deranged as he continued speaking to her, talking only about “him”.

From behind her, a man cleared his throat loudly, the ahem echoing off the church walls. The Fox Tail jumped noticeably, startled by the sudden sound. She blinked her eyes rapidly a few times. She had been so focused on the weird tale the Priest was spinning that she hadn't even noticed the approach. Artemisia turned her green eyes onto the newcomer and felt comforted – she recognized this man. Although they had only met briefly a few times, she remembered his face clearly. She wasn't sure if she would be remembered, as their encounters were sparse at best and almost non-existent in truth. She was about to greet the Guardian and attempt again to get some sort of intelligible conversation from the Priest when his face drained of all color, turning a sickly white. His fingers gripped at the Altar tightly and stared at the pair with wide eyes. He spoke one final ominous line, promising the destruction of all of Londinium.

From behind her, she felt a sudden rush of magic. It was an unpleasant feeling and not at all like the warm and fuzzy feelings she generally felt when she used magic herself. Artemisia whipped around, gripping her staff tightly, eyes wide. What in the...? A thick mist washed over a man who was standing near one of the walls. It completely engulfed his stout body and, just as suddenly as it appeared, it retreated back into the wall. Again with everything being behind her, she heard a dull thunk. Torn between rushing to the dwarfs side or not, Artemisia looked behind her to see the Priest had collapsed. He still appeared to be conscious but was laying sprawled out on the church floor. Concerned, the blonde rushed behind the Altar and knelt down beside the Priest. “Are you okay?” She looked his body over for any visible injuries. She was careful not to allow her body to come into direct contact with him.

Just as she was about to see if she could get any more information at all from the Priest, she felt a light tap on her shoulder. Looking up, she was a little surprised to see Dorian, a Shaman she had met, was also here. He gave her a slight nod, indicating towards the Altar itself, and then continued on through another door. Artemisia's green eyes shifted to the object she was now behind. There was indeed the feeling of mana left behind. “Oxford,” She looked up at the Guardian. “Do you see anything weird about the Altar? Maybe anything that might help us? Don't touch it, this guy was gripping it right before he collapsed and I don't want that to happen to you... I don't know what's going on but it keeps me a weird feeling...” She looked back down at the Priest. She didn't know if it would help him any but it was the only thing she could think of to do. Channeling her own mana, which surrounded her in a warm, comforting light, Artemisia used the only healing spell she knew, the aptly named spell known as... "Heal." After a moment, the light surrounding her, pure and welcoming in comparison to the feeling the rest of the Church was giving off, rained down on the Priest, showering him in the little droplets of light. It was not a very mana efficient spell and she had know idea if it would be effective in helping the Priest at all but she had to try. As the light faded and the spell ended, Artemisia looked back down at the Priest. “Who is this man you keep speaking of? Is he the one that took everyone? Do you know what he wants?” She felt a little bad rapid firing off questions to the man, who was obviously not well. As she stared down at the man, waiting to see if he had any words for her, she toggled on her subclass ability, Evaluate, wondering if perhaps it was possible he had been possessed by a monster. She didn't even know if that was possible. Evaluate was typically used on monsters in the field and she had never before tried to use it on a Person of the Land or even an Adventurer. If it was successful, she would be presented with a short list of information about her target, which was the Priest in this case. If it wasn't, she figured she would just see a normal display for a Person of the Land.*

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Notes: Trying something a little out of the box here... let me know if there's an issues here since I'm kinda just winging it, haha. I don't know if either of those skills will do anything, so I tried to leave it as open as possible for whatever you decide, Saber.
Words: 944
Skills Used: 
Heal: - Adventurer, Tier I Skill - The most fundamental HP recovery magic of the healer classes and the root of all restorative skills. Although it grants HP restoration, it is known for its poor mana efficiency compared to other healing skills, barrier skills and reactive activation skills, thus putting this on low priority amongst healing skills. Beginners often look at healers based on how much HP this skill heals, causing some to be called second-rate or third-rate healers. That said, truly useless healers are out of the question, since most are at least competent in using restorative magic. When this skill is used, the caster is surrounded by a hazy warm light, and the chosen target is showered down with particles of light. This skill has a casting time of 2 seconds and a cooldown time of 10 seconds. If used by a non-healer class, the cooldown doubles to 20 seconds.

Evaluate: - Scholar Roleplaying Subclass, Tier I Skill - This skill allows the scholar to gain additional details about the enemy. While most players can access an interface that shows the monster's name, level, current HP, and current MP, the scholar obtains an additional interface when this skill is used. It has a one second cast time and one second cooldown time. The target's elemental weaknesses and a brief summary of their skills will be made available to the Scholar any time they access the target's interface.
Tags: Masked Entity, @0x1dea, Tobin, @serenityspace

[Tobin]

(ooc: This is intentionally a short post; there will be no progress on my front this turn.)

WC: 470

The Dwarf's eyebrow twitched as the darkness gathered in strength as though he expected it. Within in that brief moment he chose to confront the darkness, his skin erupted into radiant flame as it the fist closed around him!

"Bring it-"

Almost instantly the strength in his voice vanished, followed by the flames a couple seconds after. Then Tobin was alone, held firm by by the tight coldness that possessed an otherworldly texture. There, but distant, soft yet firm.

Yet, despite the absence of sound the silence was so loud. Deafening. Yet the rim taunted the stunted fellow with knowledge budging with anticipation yet unspeakably detestable.

Then the eye opened and in that blackest of black his spirit was forced open to seer the knowledge within the hide of the mind.

---

As the mist retreated the stunted fellow collapsed upon as though his strings had been severed, The muscles on every inch of his body vibrated as undulated eyes remained fixated at the wall as his lips twitched with wordless mumbles directed at the fading letters. It was only as the light caused his iris to contract inward that the lips found strength that words sought formation in a hushed whisper.

"I see it, flame, hate, a red sunrise, pitch black eyes, cold, so cold. London, gone. Everything, is."

There was a sudden pause has his throat tightened, then the Dwarf did something most unusual. He opened his mouth and let out a scream.

"Give it back, YOU BASTARD, GIV' IT ALL BACK!"

His action was a blur as he flung himself at the wall with an animistic fury, the headstrong collision echoed with a meaty smack, reason had abandoned him as he hit the wall with everything he had, fist, feet, hands, face as he tore at the fading letters, replacing the red lettering with fresh blood from his snout. Then, as sudden as it came the Dwarf stopped, letting his forehead slam against the unyielding stone as he slumped forward and let his body slide to rest upon his knees. The voices around him sounded so distant as he remained there, completely inert.

Eventurally, after a time of twenty two seconds, Tobin finally found the will to speak. It was apparent that despite the outburst his words were spoken with a toneless, unnaturally clam lilt as he let the cold stone ease the hot stream that trickled from his face.

"Black eyes, I couldn't see much of value, he shown me a future of a burnin' London. I, don't know magic that well to guage his capabilities, but one thing is fa certain. His intent to destroy this city, is very real."

With effort the dwarf struggled to roll over onto his back as his hand fumbled against the smooth stone as his unfocused eyes swept around the room, eventurally they chose to settle on the one he could only assume spoke to him just moments before as he forced a slight grin.

"Hardly somewhere I would want ta spend a holiday."

[Deleted]

Words: 351
Tags: Masked Entity @sugarygiggles Tobin @serenityspace

A whole bunch of stuff seemed to happen at the clearing of his throught. The forceful clearing of his esophagus alerted both the Fox-Tail and the priest, the former jumping a good foot in the air, the other widening his eyes in horror. At first he wondered if he did something foul or immoral with his simple act, but that thought was soon snuffed from his mind. The priest seemed to be gripped with an intense sensation of fear, staring bug-eyed at the Sorceress, then at him. And after the last of his words escaped his lips with a hiss, he slumped. At this point, Oxford became aware of two other people inside the establishment. One was a face he recognized, good ol' Tobin, the token Dwarf to complete any situation. The other face belonged to a stranger, one he was not yet acquainted with, but was sure to know in good time as the four loitered around in here. The fact that the priest had kept a constant grip on the altar nagged at him for some reason. The way he stood their bracing himself against it made it seem like he wanted to keep people away from it. Or maybe he wanted to keep something in. He approached it as the Sorceress used a healing spell to revitalize the Lander. As he reached out to give it a firm shove, he suddenly retracted his hand when the familiar Fox Tail advised against it. What was her name again? A quick glance reconfirmed her name, Artemisia. He'd only seen her a couple times, once at Hiro's Christmas event thing, and once before at that Snowdonia ball thing. He didn't remember talking with her much, but nonetheless, he did remember. "Hmmm..." he stroked his chin as he summoned up his two-handed sword. Combat wasn't allowed between players in the city, but surely there wasn't any infraction against the city's regulations when it came to wielding arms. He gave the altar a poke with the blade, testing to see whether indirect contact with the altar would have any adverse effects on him. OOC Notes: Sorry, kinda rushed this one. Just yell at me if there's any inconsistencies and what-not.

template coded by oxford of ET

[Masked Entity]

The power of the darkness is something many overlook, but it is always lurking behind our eyes. Hidden between the pages, the darkness skulks like a whispering promise; a promise to eradicate all that is truth. In order to fight back, we place labels; nightmares, monsters, demons, we call these things from the darkness cruel names and dehumanize all of them. We put them down, lock them away, and teach our children to fear them. “Darkness is your enemy, do not embrace it, fear it” is what parents teach but in doing so, we separate ourselves from the truth. The truth we seek lies in the place we cannot see… the place where our memories go to die.

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@serenityspace:

Upon discovering the fabric, the Shaman intelligently picked up the fabric with pieces from his own armor, wrapped it away, and then stored it into his invisible pit of storage. A clue taken from the landscape which may prove handy later, but there were more pressing matters and the Shaman proceeded. He left the main center of the church and then headed into the back room. Here he would find himself surrounded in dust. The scent of age lingered like a curse and the dozens of scriptures and scrolls reflected that age. No sheet of paper in the room looked freshly made and a thin layer of dust covered all of them, except for a certain collection. Off to the left of the room, upon investigation, there would be a pile of books that had been pulled from the shelves and were opened. The letterings of their titles were unreadable by Adventurers due to the style of writing but one might find more by digging through them. Beware… The air is heavy here.

---

Tobin

Along the wall, the Dwarf would have awakened from his trance. Having seen the potential future, his mind would be burned and scarred with the images he had seen. His turmoil led him to a fit of rage. He charged the wall but of course, there was nothing but stone. The words receded into the wall and the miasma slowly began to pull back into the stone, collapsing steadily into a single object; a sigil. A circular stone object with an unknown symbol appeared and fell from the sky, dropping down onto the church floor. It was black, like obsidian, and would be smooth to the touch. However, even after the horrendous vision the Dwarf had seen, the sigil would be still and silent. He would get no answer to his cries.

---

@sugarygiggles:

At the altar, the Priest lay in a daze, having almost all of his energy sucked from an invisible force. The Sorceress who tended to him did well not to touch, as upon doing so she would have also contracted the life-sapping illness. Even so, it was an illness that could not so easily be healed. The Sorceress’s healing spell did nothing but allow the Priest to awaken slightly from his dazed state, but he was still heavily weakened. This time though, he was conscious of his surroundings. The Priest looked up at the foxtail with eyes which held back everything. She asked him questions and he was ready to answer but just as he did, a sharp pain shot through his skull. His vision blurred and he groaned in agony. Suddenly, he shot a hand out and grabbed the foxtail by the collar. His grip was firm but he did not pull her. It was as if he was holding on not to the foxtail, but to existence.

“Take me… to Rolinda…” His words were strained as he spoke, and they were the last he could get out. The Priest fell on his back, unconscious but alive. Upon activating her second skill, the Sorceress would find that the Priest had a pair of status effects; ‘Miasma Virus’ and ‘Psyche Binding’.

Who the hell is Rolinda?

---

@0x1dea:

The Guardian, entranced by the Altar, initially began to reach for it. The Sorceress saved him a great pain by telling him not to continue, and the Guardian thoughtfully obliged. His hand retracted back and instead, he pulled out a sword. The Altar gave off a thick, heavy, dark aura around it and it bled into its immediate vicinity. The Guardian’s blade reached forward and lightly touched it, igniting the reaction. Out from the impact point, a black fog shot forward and connected with the blade. It swirled and twisted, shooting forward up the metal as if it was a grounding rod and stretched towards the Guardian. There was no noise, but it was coming quickly.

[Deleted]

As he inspected the various dust-covered scrolls and tomes, Dorian couldn't help but feel a shiver wrestle down his spine, the air itself seemingly thick with age and the lack of recent care filling his lungs and drawing out a cough every once in a while. "The sooner we get out of here the better; but we need all the information we can get..." Shaking his head, he grasped at the neckline of his clothed armour, pulling it up over his chin and mouth, protecting himself from whatever had drawn out such plague in the room. Every so often he managed to sniff out a strong stench of old papyrus, the ancient fumes that signalled a buried knowledge permeating through his nostrils. It's as if we're walking through history, through time... The Shikigami was not wrong; the power that lurked in these tomes was daunting, but it was a bad sign... His initial readings could have been misled by the innate mana that naturally flowed through the age that held still within this back storage area.

Coming around full circle, his feet brought him to the bookshelves dotting the back corner, inspecting the various tomes for any clue or sign as to what may have happened. Most of the scriptures and scrolls that filled the shelves were heavily covered in the same dust that filled the air, a sure sign that nothing had touched them for months, perhaps even years. Almost out of hope, something out of the corner of the Shaman's eye seemed off... "Hold on, look at this, Skrowe," he murmured underneath the fabric of cloth covering his mouth, his eyes focusing on a particular selection of books, pulled from the places on the shelf where they had once called their home. Moving in close to inspect them, he attempted to discern the names from the letterings of the titles, but the style of writing was unreadable, perhaps an ancient dialect that the translation system in the interface couldn't figure out. Scratching at the back of his head with his free hand, he stacked the books up into a single tall tower, dropping the neckline of his shirt to gather them up into his arms, a heavy groan emitting against his throat.

"Guys!" Dorian called out loudly, straining his voice through the dust-filled air, emitting a few more coughs before attempting again. "I think I found something! You may want to come in here when you next get the chance!" Waiting a few more seconds to see if he got a reply, he shrugged his shoulders lightly, nodding his head in understanding; they were probably still busy with the priest - who had seemed to be in bad shape when he last saw him out there in the main hall. Begrudgingly hefting the books up with his arms to lessen the strain, he carried them over to the reading desk in the opposite corner of the room, a staple in scripture storages like this, used by priests to read through the fine print of their tomes and gather meaning from them. "May as well give them a look; never let it be said that Dorian the Shaman didn't help as much as he could." After speaking to himself somewhat, he propped the books down on the desk, and began picking them off the pile one by one, opening the covers and flicking through the pages, eyes trained and focused on discerning any information that could help. *

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Notes: N/A
Words: 577
Tags: Masked Entity @sugarygiggles @0x1dea Tobin