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Thread: The Gavisoria Games (IC)

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    Feb 2006
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    Default The Gavisoria Games (IC)

    This is the official IC thread for the Gavisoria Games.

    OCC Thread

    Current Player/Character list:

    Player Characters:
    Serpentine - Alwynn - Sheet
    Ragged Angel - Maekrix - Sheet
    Demonhunter2012 - Darmok - Sheet
    Jarian - Arafel - Sheet

    chrisrawr - Vinto - Sheet

    Retired Characters:
    LordOfTheDucks - Sanfeng - Sheet
    Jarian - Janen - Sheet


    Over the course of the last five days, each character has made their way across the land towards the imposing High Citadel of Corvantia located in the center of Gavisoria. The Citadel itself is situated on the apex of a towering hill which, by magic or the convenient forces of nature, is surrounded by a vast plain of grasslands and swelling rises of ground bisected by a small, but lively river. Around the base of the hill is located the majestic city of Kolding which was founded only recently, but carries about it an air of dignity, as if it had been there for years untold.

    The Breygan River flowed past the outskirts of the town, with the multitudes of jetties and wharfs giving it the look of a mouth full of broken teeth. The city walls are short but thick, and seem well-guarded even during this time of relative peace. As you make your way through the city, the inhabitants bustle about their daily work and seem lively and free. The fears and toils of a life in the outside world is unknown to them and most of them gaze at you with respect and even a bit of awe. It is clear that figures of your stature and power are not frequently seen within the city walls. The shops are simple and rustic, but crowded and filled with brisk trade. Regardless of your location in the city the Citadel constantly towers overhead, a blunt reminder of the power that keeps the citizens safe. Despite your unfamiliarity with the area, you can make your way towards the great hill with relative ease. Once you reach the bottom of the hill, however, you meet your first obstacle.

    Four narrow roads, each paved with massive marble stones lead up the hill towards the structure at the top. A small detachment of guards waits at the bottom, and keeps you under close attention as your approach. At first glance, the guards seem almost innocuous, but your experienced eyes note the unwavering attention they give to you, and the way they casually, but skillfully keep their hands besides their weapons. A tall stocky man briefly holds up his hand, motioning you to stop when you reach a comfortable talking distance. He looks you up and down, and asks you to state your name and business. You answer his questions to his satisfaction and he allows you to pass. He instructs you to take a specific road which soon turns out of sight of the other three.

    You slowly trudge up the steep winding road. There is no one else in sight, and as you pace out the distance to the peak, a warm winds makes itself more noticeable. At first it is only a gentle whisper but it gradually turns into a brisk breeze, scented with saffron and evergreen. As you reach the top of the hill, you are suddenly reminded of the air from your dream . . . you feel the same rush of alertness and energy and your muscles, worn from the climb, are refreshed and renewed. You draw in a deep breath and take stock of your surroundings. The bright sun not yet reached the noon hour, but it still illuminates the walls of the great Citadel with a brilliant glow. You are standing on a small platform of worked stone. Behind you is the path on which you arrived, and before you is a tall golden door. Carefully crafted scripts in a language unknown to you scrolls around the outside of the entrance. Delicate filigree work details scenes of ancient importance though the events depicted are no doubt lost in the annals of history. The doors are shut without even the smallest crack to reveal a keyhole or separation between the halves. The tower itself is crafted from living stone, each nook and cranny filled with an ancient sense of mystery and imposing strength. The very stone exhales a friendly warmth and feels almost alive to the touch.

    You stand before the door engrossed in the ancient displays of valor and victory, and time seems to lose its meaning. Suddenly you are jolted to consciousness as the door before you gives a small shudder and a faint crack appears down the middle. You notice that the sun is now almost directly overhead and you anxiously peer though the widening fissure as the doors slowly glide open. Inside you see a large, dimly lit room with a towering ceiling and several simple benches placed along the walls. You enter, and perceive, not without a faint stirring of unease, that the doors behind you have shut. Three other doors in opposite quadrants of the chamber also swing shut with a muffled thump. In front of each door stands a figure, looking around just as you are. A flame-like light from high above brightens the room and you can see each other clearly now.
    Last edited by Galathir; 2012-06-24 at 01:23 AM.
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