Capt. Infinity
2016-05-08, 01:18 AM
Cities.
Throughout all of history, as far back as time can care to remember, cities and their inhabitants have been key focal points in all of the world's most pivotal events. For it is in these realms of stone and steel that all stories can lay a claim. A hero, born in the slums, rising to save the realm. A magi, filled with such raging avarice by the prospect of rule, that they lay siege upon its walls, hoping to stride towards its seat of power and lay upon its throne. Or even the humble pilgrim, who's trolley of dishevelled colonists would lay their claims in what they deemed fertile soil, unknowingly setting the groundwork for grand stories a thousandfold and more.
Many grand cities have risen and fallen in the realms of Monara. But, in all of the manyfold eons since the gods wrenched the prime materia into form, no kingdom has ever stood brighter, or endured longer, than Soluna.
The origins of this staggering metropolis are unknown to all but the most steadfast of historians, many records simply forgotten as the millennia sped past. It is widely agreed that whoever set up a civilization here, on the cusp of the Iridian Ocean, and at the mouth of the river Magnus, likely did so specifically because of those two geographical factors. The area was lousy with fish and fresh water, and the combination of being a coastal city on top of being at the mouth of a waterway upon which many, many others converge made it quickly gain renown as the trading hub of the majority of the civilized world.
Of course, all of this happened almost 3000 years ago, and in those many forgotten centuries since, the city has grown to become the greatest in all of the lands. With a population of around 100,000 citizens, a city limit that encompasses more land than certain small duchies, and a flow of gold throughout its commercial and trade sectors enormous enough to make a Great Wyrm blush. In no small way has Soluna earned its ancient title: "King of Kingdoms".
But what is growth, without its malignancies? What is progress, without consequence? And where is light, without a grand, sweeping shadow, engulfing everything in its wake? Not here, in this, this most hallowed of city-states. For it is in the quiet corners of this great, walled nation that darkness festers. Crime, debauchery, and evil. These things all find a place between the cracks of Soluna's grand foundation. Cracks which have been forming since before anyone can remember, and have now grown so large that there is little anyone can do to stop it.
The kingdom lays in a worried state. The old King, Asternian, is dead. The cause is unknown, though old age was stated, and other, less tasteful theories are mentioned behind closed doors. Now, the young Queen, Solaria, has taken the throne. Wrenched free from her self-imposed exile in the wake of ending her older brother's short but mad rule upon the nation, and who was content to let her father rule again for decades to come, but for whom duty had called all too early.
The Queen's ascension makes this time in the city's life a very important one, for it may yet cause shifts in the withering frame of the nation that could either rectify its course, or send it plunging into the abyss. For Solaria does not see it fit to watch her grand and ancient kingdom die, much less so after ten years of watching it rot from within, under the guise of a commoner. The Queen is making plans. Plans to save Soluna and its inhabitants from the savage darkness that gnaws at its edges. Her will is taking many forms in this effort, but perhaps its strongest is also it's most unorthodox, and it's most audacious. A single woman, an Elf, scorned by the darkness on a deep and personal level, and hellbent on fixing all that has gone wrong. This simple soul has been granted the chance to light the darkness within Soluna, and raise the realm out from it's tragic twilight.
And into the Blazing Dawn.
The alleys howl
The windows shake
The bright lights die
And madness takes
The people fear
For all but fear's sake
When the shadows come alive
A dark wind howls throughout a forgotten corner of the commercial district as those that dwell in the night enact their dark intentions. There are old tales among the city folk that there are sections of the lower city that never see the light of day, the light obscured too fully by the mighty skyline above. And in places like this, it's hard not to believe them. For despite the time still yet being dusk, with the sun still a sliver on the horizon to the west, and the sky still set ablaze in majestic hues of crimson, this small remote block of warehouses between the commercial and industrial districts remains all but devoid of light.
And yet it is in this abysmal twilight that some men do their best work, as in the case of the group of a half-dozen or so brutish thugs that are currently relieving a particularly engorged storehouse of its rare and valuable wares.
As the mix of humanoid races work quickly to empty the area of anything worth more than the boots they wear out to remove them, a dark haired, sharply dressed human man, far and away a standout amongst the rather pragmatically dressed grizzled goons, stands watch over the whole affair. He speaks in a voice that is to the ear what a snake's movements are to a small mouse. Smooth and calming, to the point of almost being hypnotizing, but carrying an underlay of cunning and control that sends a shiver up the spines of those who can sense it. "Come on, people. Let's keep it moving! Every second here is another second closer to someone ruining all of our fun. So, unless you want to wallow away in jail, or feel like you're willing to explain to the boss why we don't have the goods, I suggest you speed it up a little." The mooks, for what they're worth, comply, and race to offload the material possessions into a cart behind the warehouse. A small humanoid, either a Gnome or a Halfling, though it could be either hidden beneath the myriad rags used as a makeshift hood and mask, walks past the charming man, only to be stopped dead. "Hang on for a second there, friend." The young human reaches into the open top of the crate the subordinate was carrying, and pulls out a beautiful golden broach. It's soft yellows glitter almost supernaturally, seeming to illuminate its surroundings by dint of its sheer wealth alone.
"Niiiiice. Very, very nice." The man and the smaller humanoid share a glance. "...Did I say you could stop working? Get a move on!" He points to the door, and the gang member rushes to complete their task. The wicked man smiles. Emerald eyes glittering with greed as he marvels at his personal take.
"Gods, I love this job."
Congratulations, Aisius, you are officially SOMEWHERE IN THIS SCENE! :smallbiggrin:
You can be anywhere in the immediate area, either hiding within the warehouse, or waiting outside. Any points of stealth you begin in are assumed safe until questioned, and we can just say you made any checks necessary to get there (unless it's like, literally standing on a vertical wall. Though you CAN be hidden in one of the boxes). As for the location, assume your standard D&D fantasy warehouse, full of large crates everywhere, and with rafters and roping above. Feel free to ask questions if you need any further information on the situation at hand
Throughout all of history, as far back as time can care to remember, cities and their inhabitants have been key focal points in all of the world's most pivotal events. For it is in these realms of stone and steel that all stories can lay a claim. A hero, born in the slums, rising to save the realm. A magi, filled with such raging avarice by the prospect of rule, that they lay siege upon its walls, hoping to stride towards its seat of power and lay upon its throne. Or even the humble pilgrim, who's trolley of dishevelled colonists would lay their claims in what they deemed fertile soil, unknowingly setting the groundwork for grand stories a thousandfold and more.
Many grand cities have risen and fallen in the realms of Monara. But, in all of the manyfold eons since the gods wrenched the prime materia into form, no kingdom has ever stood brighter, or endured longer, than Soluna.
The origins of this staggering metropolis are unknown to all but the most steadfast of historians, many records simply forgotten as the millennia sped past. It is widely agreed that whoever set up a civilization here, on the cusp of the Iridian Ocean, and at the mouth of the river Magnus, likely did so specifically because of those two geographical factors. The area was lousy with fish and fresh water, and the combination of being a coastal city on top of being at the mouth of a waterway upon which many, many others converge made it quickly gain renown as the trading hub of the majority of the civilized world.
Of course, all of this happened almost 3000 years ago, and in those many forgotten centuries since, the city has grown to become the greatest in all of the lands. With a population of around 100,000 citizens, a city limit that encompasses more land than certain small duchies, and a flow of gold throughout its commercial and trade sectors enormous enough to make a Great Wyrm blush. In no small way has Soluna earned its ancient title: "King of Kingdoms".
But what is growth, without its malignancies? What is progress, without consequence? And where is light, without a grand, sweeping shadow, engulfing everything in its wake? Not here, in this, this most hallowed of city-states. For it is in the quiet corners of this great, walled nation that darkness festers. Crime, debauchery, and evil. These things all find a place between the cracks of Soluna's grand foundation. Cracks which have been forming since before anyone can remember, and have now grown so large that there is little anyone can do to stop it.
The kingdom lays in a worried state. The old King, Asternian, is dead. The cause is unknown, though old age was stated, and other, less tasteful theories are mentioned behind closed doors. Now, the young Queen, Solaria, has taken the throne. Wrenched free from her self-imposed exile in the wake of ending her older brother's short but mad rule upon the nation, and who was content to let her father rule again for decades to come, but for whom duty had called all too early.
The Queen's ascension makes this time in the city's life a very important one, for it may yet cause shifts in the withering frame of the nation that could either rectify its course, or send it plunging into the abyss. For Solaria does not see it fit to watch her grand and ancient kingdom die, much less so after ten years of watching it rot from within, under the guise of a commoner. The Queen is making plans. Plans to save Soluna and its inhabitants from the savage darkness that gnaws at its edges. Her will is taking many forms in this effort, but perhaps its strongest is also it's most unorthodox, and it's most audacious. A single woman, an Elf, scorned by the darkness on a deep and personal level, and hellbent on fixing all that has gone wrong. This simple soul has been granted the chance to light the darkness within Soluna, and raise the realm out from it's tragic twilight.
And into the Blazing Dawn.
The alleys howl
The windows shake
The bright lights die
And madness takes
The people fear
For all but fear's sake
When the shadows come alive
A dark wind howls throughout a forgotten corner of the commercial district as those that dwell in the night enact their dark intentions. There are old tales among the city folk that there are sections of the lower city that never see the light of day, the light obscured too fully by the mighty skyline above. And in places like this, it's hard not to believe them. For despite the time still yet being dusk, with the sun still a sliver on the horizon to the west, and the sky still set ablaze in majestic hues of crimson, this small remote block of warehouses between the commercial and industrial districts remains all but devoid of light.
And yet it is in this abysmal twilight that some men do their best work, as in the case of the group of a half-dozen or so brutish thugs that are currently relieving a particularly engorged storehouse of its rare and valuable wares.
As the mix of humanoid races work quickly to empty the area of anything worth more than the boots they wear out to remove them, a dark haired, sharply dressed human man, far and away a standout amongst the rather pragmatically dressed grizzled goons, stands watch over the whole affair. He speaks in a voice that is to the ear what a snake's movements are to a small mouse. Smooth and calming, to the point of almost being hypnotizing, but carrying an underlay of cunning and control that sends a shiver up the spines of those who can sense it. "Come on, people. Let's keep it moving! Every second here is another second closer to someone ruining all of our fun. So, unless you want to wallow away in jail, or feel like you're willing to explain to the boss why we don't have the goods, I suggest you speed it up a little." The mooks, for what they're worth, comply, and race to offload the material possessions into a cart behind the warehouse. A small humanoid, either a Gnome or a Halfling, though it could be either hidden beneath the myriad rags used as a makeshift hood and mask, walks past the charming man, only to be stopped dead. "Hang on for a second there, friend." The young human reaches into the open top of the crate the subordinate was carrying, and pulls out a beautiful golden broach. It's soft yellows glitter almost supernaturally, seeming to illuminate its surroundings by dint of its sheer wealth alone.
"Niiiiice. Very, very nice." The man and the smaller humanoid share a glance. "...Did I say you could stop working? Get a move on!" He points to the door, and the gang member rushes to complete their task. The wicked man smiles. Emerald eyes glittering with greed as he marvels at his personal take.
"Gods, I love this job."
Congratulations, Aisius, you are officially SOMEWHERE IN THIS SCENE! :smallbiggrin:
You can be anywhere in the immediate area, either hiding within the warehouse, or waiting outside. Any points of stealth you begin in are assumed safe until questioned, and we can just say you made any checks necessary to get there (unless it's like, literally standing on a vertical wall. Though you CAN be hidden in one of the boxes). As for the location, assume your standard D&D fantasy warehouse, full of large crates everywhere, and with rafters and roping above. Feel free to ask questions if you need any further information on the situation at hand