Circles Within Circles: The Scars of Valtaria

[GuardianOfHearts]

[Brought to you by GuardianOfHearts and TheClamWhisperer]

"Since the beginning of never and forever, Valtaria has been protected. By the four races of Guardians, whose Temples we erected to safegaurd their power. One in each center of their domain- north, south, east, and west.
The four Guardian races came to us in the form of powerful beasts of legend. To the mountainous north, the great direwolves; to the plains of the west, the swift unicorns; to the hot south, the mighty dragons; and to the forested east, the blazing phoenixes.

These races were connected to the inhabitants of Valtaria by the High Priest or Priestess, who were the keepers of their respective Temple. They were the only ones who could access the heart of magic within them and thus were part of the balance of peace.

Everything was well in Valtaria until nearly three decades ago, when catastrophe struck. An unknown assassin- or assassins -poisoned the current High Priests and Priestesses, no doubt wanting to shift the rule of Valtaria from the Temples to the kingdom's nobility.

But the result was chaos. Without the Temple's keepers to bridge the gap between Valtaria and the Guardians, the four races vanished. Without her protectors, Valtaria become susceptible to negative otherworldly influence. Monsters, nightmares that preyed from the shadows, virulent plagues, spirits that flitted around and made you trip or caused crop blights.

All the while, most of Valtaria's nobility scrabbled for positions of power, fighting amongst themselves, trying and failing to raise one of their own as the next High Priest or Priestess. But the Temples would only accept those descended from the original bloodlines; all others who attempted were killed.

But the last keepers had left no known relatives after their murder: no decedents to continue on in their stead. Valtaria mourned, and many have lost hope.
Yet there is a light in all this darkness. There are decedents, four young Valtarians scattered to the winds, who know nothing of their heritage or destiny let alone their great power.

Symbol of their bloodline, each one possesses a pendant in the shape of on of the four Guardians ... to them, little more than pretty heirlooms, but to those who seek them, the figureheads of their identities."


Oh my god. That was way too long. I nearly put myself to sleep.


Recap in a nutshell: Valtaria used to be protected by four divine races, but ever since the Temples' High Priests and Priestesses were assassinated, the dragons, direwolves, phoenixes, and unicorns have disappeared, and life has sucked. The only way to open the path for the races to come back and heal Valtaria is to find the four young decendents of the Temples and bring them there. To open up the core of magic in each one, all four have to be present to lend their strength.

Basically, those four are destined to become the new High Priest or Priestess [gender doesn't matter] and rule Valtaria with the Guardians.

Guardians:
-Dragons to the south. Hot and kinda tropical there, they like it.

-Direwolves to the north- these are three times the size as normal wolves and more intelligent. Kinda cold there, with lots of mountains.

-Phoenixes to the east. In forests where trees can be as big as houses.

-Unicorns to the west- not all white and sparkly, that's just girly. >=[ No, they're like normal horses, only faster, smarter, and with very dangerous horns. And sometimes in strange colors. The west is fertile but pretty flat.

Roles: There needs to be four people for the High Priest/ess spots [two spots left].
Aside from that, we'd really like some people to join as characters who find and help the four. Basically people who know about them and are really tired of Valtaria sucking.

Setting: Go crazy, young'uns. Make your own cities, your own nobles, but stick to the geographical characteristics I already explained, and nothing modern. This is obviously a fantasy RP. That means that cyborgs are a no go. The most advanced technology is whatever is brought on by magic.

Rules:
+The obvious ones: very minimal amount of power-playing and god-moding.

+Romance = cool, but only if it's PG-13.

+Rapid-fire posting will invoke my wrath. You don't want that.

+Literacy. Lit-er-a-cy. It means that if you can't use the space or shift bar or post more than a paragraph, you're not in.

+If you can, tell us in advance before you're absent. We'll help make the arrangements. [that sounds like you're dying. xP]

+Follow the template.

+For the love of all that is good in role-playing, NO Mary-Sues! They make my heart die.

+Don't messy up our lovely thread with flaming. If anything needs to be said, use the PMing system. Respect yourselves and others, children.

+Have fun! After all this, I'm sure you think this is anything but that, but try! xP

+If you read the rules, the password is "Yeah, and her name isn't Sally." [...don't ask.]

Template:

Name:

Gender:

Age: [for Priests/esses, 15-20. Anything else, 15+]

Personality: [don't you dare put two sentences or less.]

History: [what has their life been like up until now? you don't need to write a novel, but it IS mandatory.]

Appearance: [descriptions are fine; pictures must include a description]

Weapons: [maximum of two.]

Powers: [optional. but, since magic abounds and is allowed, you're encouraged to be anything from a dabbling magician to an elementalist. just remember that you cannot be too powerful. I expect you to know the limits.]

High Priest/ess of: [include this only if you are one. For example, put, "High Priest of the West". and if you are, you will have the cliche'd necklace I mentioned.]

Theme songs: [optional. this is just for fun. =3]

Positions claimed:

High Priestess of the South: GuardianOfHearts
High Priestess of the East: TheClamWhisperer
High Priest/Priestess of the North: -unclaimed-
High Priest of the West: Endless Devoid

-in need of characters-

 

[TheClamWhisperer]

"Yeah and her name isn't Sally..."

Name: Nox Imbolc

Gender: Female

Age: 15

Personality: Hyper in general, Nox seems to possess endless energy that sprouts from some unknown source. Naturally headstrong, Nox could rant for hours about one subject, and pout when she didn’t get what she required. Her temper is as fiery as the blaze she wields.

The downside you ask? She’s a very emotional girl who can go into a bit of a depression. Around her friends, she is as loud and as boisterous as can be, but she also is very compassionate and generous. She’s the type who will simmer down and listen to a problem. Playfully sarcastic, she is always good for a laugh, and not afraid to act like an idiot for kicks.

Around elders, she would behave herself is she did not know them that well. If she was familiar with them, she could let some of her true nature out to shine. She knows her place, but isn’t afraid to disagree with it. In the region of the opposite sex, she can be a bit shy and withdrawn, but this rarely happens. Usually she can say or do almost anything she would with someone else.

History: Nox was born energetic, too energetic for her own good as her brother would say. Wherever she went, trouble seemed to follow in her wake. Her small, secluded town of Ristel Haven was located at the edge of the Ristenbur Hollows, the wood that stretched until it met the mountains. Born into the middle class, Nox wasn’t exactly an elite child, but was not a peasant either. Her friends varied from nobles to peasants despite this.

She lives with her brother, close to her other brother’s family and is the only elementalist in her family. Her father died in a fire, her mother shortly after from a disease. Since then, Nox had more responsibility on her shoulders, tending to her nephew and teaching more of the unexperienced elementalists. During an incident seven years ago, one of her best friends, a noble, left for one of the more prestigious cities, promising to return to the little town one day. He has not as of yet. After he left, leaving her a necklace, Nox was determined to learn how to control her powers, hoping that if she tried hard enough she would be able to provide service in the larger city.


Nox was always very artistic and had a passion for drawing and painting and taught some of the young children of her town some skills. One law in her home: The Fire Fairy was not to be trusted in the kitchen. Nox can’t cook to save her life, and when anyone is using a fire, Nox should be out of the room in case she ignites the blaze. Even when she’d enter the kitchen for a bowl of cereal someone would always ask from the next room, “Nox, what exactly are you doing?!”

As of now, Nox is practicing her pyrokinesis with the other elementalists in her village, the small few who need to protect it.



Appearance: Nox possesses a petite form like that of a delicate glass bird and a height that one might call leprechaun-like. Her chestnut hair falls just beneath her shoulders, but two lone strands sprout from the front of her hairline and hang on opposite sides of her large amber eyes, drooping down to her chin. Her hair is generally down, but she usually ties it back before slumbering, yet the two strands are left where they fall. Around her neck is a contorted knot with a gem at the center, a very precious piece to her, which rests beside the heirloom her mother had given her, the one with a phoenix carved into it.

She wears black sweatpants with a crimson cross on outer side of each leg and a plain scarlet shirt with long sleeves which fall over her hands. Thus, she has pierced a series of holes in the sleeves for her fingers to slip through. The shirt droops into a V-neck, so Nox wears a black spaghetti-strap tank top under it. Her shoes are black with little doodles of red paint covering the leather on nearly every inch of it.

Weapons: Nox wields a razor sharp ring called a chakram which she can easily throw at an opponent. The ring is encrusted with a cycle of morganite stones. Due to her intense skill with the weapon, she’s taught herself how to avoid being sliced by it when she throws and/or catches it. Aside from the chakram, Nox has a pair of gloves which hold sharp, iron nails which can perforate the flesh with graceful ease.

Powers: Nox, since birth, has always had an affinity with fires. When she was a child, her father died fighting a roaring blaze. Nox learned that she possessed the power of Pyrokinesis, the ability to start fires with one’s mind. Since then, Nox taught herself how to control her powers by practicing and holding a deep passion for her ability.

She claimed the title of ‘The Fire Fairy’ for the way she can dance through flames without a burn. The ability to manipulate fire is very dangerous, but with fierce determination, Nox has not been directly responsible for any deaths…yet.

High Priest/ess of: High Priestess of the East

Theme songs: Go Figure-Everlife, I Miss You-Blin 182

 

[GuardianOfHearts]

Name:
Aarawen Alisa Athlyn Andenosi. She goes by "Aara" though.

Gender:
Female

Age:
Seventeen.

Personality:
Aara is a very intense person, full of contradicting personality traits and odd quirks. For example, she’s extremely optimistic and rather imaginative, but she’s quite practical too. Nor, for all her seriousness, is she uptight. In fact, she’s rather charismatic, if often reserved and enigmatic. Aara can be a steadfast friend, but she’s used to keeping to herself and has no qualms about being independent ... but given the choice, she won’t work alone.

While she is realistic, trying to think things through in all situations, her natural impulsiveness works against such traits.

Given that, her odd way of looking at fear- "Just do it anyway!" -and her compassion, she often gets into tight situations.

Aara is used to breaking the rules, and isn’t in the least bit timid, but when she needs to be, she’ll buckle down and her more serious side will come up.

History:
Aara’s parents are dead. They were killed in one of the trivial, numerous fights that Valtaria’s nobles seem to enjoy occupying themselves with. Before though, her mother, Alaea, had given her daughter into the custody of her sister, also of noble birth. Just as Alaea had feared, the struggle ended in her and her husband’s death not long after she said goodbye to baby Aara.

Thus, Aara grew up in Caer Andenosi, overlooking the azure ocean in Valtaria’s sunny south. Her aunt and uncle, Lord Aaron and Lady Anella, raised her and tried to mold her into a "poised young lady".

Unfortunately, Aara was never very good at the whole poise thing, let alone being a lady. She shut herself in her room during every social event she could hide from; she let her gowns gather dust in her wardrobe; she practiced fighting skills with the soldiers every week. She detested the nobles and what they stood for, namely, making Valtaria worse off instead during a crisis. She hated their games, their petty battles, their sordid scandals. She wanted to do something about the way the world was falling apart, not just learn how to be social in ridiculously long dresses!

Thus, Aara was labeled as "impertinent" and a "rebel". She’d run away, not for long, because she had no where else to go, but just to look around. She’d scale the castle walls and spend a day or two in the harbor and marketplace, just learning what she could. She developed skills in lying and manipulation, though she never uses those traits for spite.

Aara knew the story of her mother and father- she had no illusions that her aunt and uncle were her parents. It never bothered her much. As she would say, "I never knew them. If I’m going to cry for them, I might as well cry over every one in this world who’s died without me knowing." Despite her lack of grief over this, the pendant her parents left her with has always been the most important item she owned. Not because of their memories: for a different, deeper reason entirely, one she cannot explain. But Aara never takes it off. She feels strangely connected to it, and it seems to anchor her like a rock in a storm.

When Aara was thirteen, she began learning magic, from Caer Andenosi’s minstrel, who was, unbeknownst to most, a sorcerer who knew almost as much about magic as he did about music. Aara persuaded him to teach her magic instead of music, and he agreed. During lessons that would have otherwise been filled with instruments and composition, the minstrel, whose name was Fenarol, taught her what he knew. Her musical skills flagged, but she quickly learned how to harness her own magic.

This is how she spent her days, sometimes dreaming on her windowsill of how it would look see a dragon cut through the sky.

Appearance:
Aara is of only middling height, nothing special. She has naturally light skin, which never tans: she must burn first, and as Aara hates to get sunburn, she’s good at protecting herself from the heat, making her one of the few pale people in the south. Her hair is wild and reddish in color, feathering just to her shoulders. She usually keeps it clipped back so that it’s curly mass falls just to her neck, unless she’s out in the sun, where she’ll just cover her head with a deep hood and leave her hair loose. She has soft features that look stern in repose, but can flip with the smallest change, predominated by large dark eyes that are actually a deep, sea-coloured grey-teal.

Aara usually wears an effeminate type of frock coat, like a long hooded shirt attached to the bottom part and cinched at the waist by a girdle, the tail reaching down to her knees with the front end a bit shorter. The cloth is form-fitting and light to allow for movement and coolness in the hot weather. Living where she does, her clothes are mostly in pale colors. On her feet are tall brown boots that lack heels are securely tied.

And always, around her neck is the heirloom pendant her parents left her, of a small, fiery, copper-colored dragon in flight.

Weapons:
On her thirteenth birthday, Aara received a long, necklace-thin whip made of golden links that are sharp enough to cut. It is christened "Folly". She wears gloves made from a special type of leather that won’t be cut by the weapon.

More primarily, Aara has a s sturdy short-sword she has named Illume, with an obsidian handle and silver blade.

Powers:
With Fenarol’s teachings, Aara has learned how to control her Anima, the magical core theoretically located within each person’s soul that can be called forth with the right willpower. She summons her Anima and commands it verbally to form a spell. However, it can be capricious, almost like a different entity inside her, sometimes draining or invigorating her after a spell or ignoring her commands completely. Like most powers, it reacts strongly to emotion, sometimes causing it to go off on its own or do something that Aara calls "backlash", whipping out and back at her with a sharp pain.

Aara thinks that her dragon pendant helps her Anima, but Fenarol says it’s impossible; nevertheless, Aara swears she feels it stir with a life of its own at times.

High Priest/Priestess of:
High Priestess of the South

Theme songs:
Before the Dawn ~ Evanescence and Crawling in the Dark ~ Hoobastank

 

[MESMAR_RISING]

x_x Why are people posting roleplays when I want to go to sleep?

Would it be possible to reserve the spot for the descendant of the High Priest of the North? If not I have another character in mind, and yeah, and her name isn't Sally. Hell, it's not even going to be a her.

...That was subtle.

 

[GuardianOfHearts]

{ HA NOE. HAHA. My name is NOT Sally.

ANYway, yes, you can reserve that spot. Usually, I'd say that I wouldn't reserve places because I don't want to discourage prospective RPers who may be better from posting, but I know you're great, so you're in. ;D

But I will have to write you off if you don't post soon enough. }

 

[Alaude Drenxta]

Yeah, and her name isn't Sally.


Name: Annanebra *Neb* Delisfasta Channing

Gender: Male

Age: 19

Personality: twosentencesorless Neb is a very tenacious person. Always on the prowl, lurking in the shadows, watching from a distance. His regular demeanor carries a fox-like quality, swift and devious, seeming as if he is always out to fool whoever he is speaking with. It is this very cunning that enabled him to get his hands on the Firebrand blades, won off a wandering traveller. A thief by trade of course, he lurks, most commonly, throughout a small wooded area deep inside the western, casting astride the great plains only when he is ready to strike.

He is not very sociable, having the tendency to avoid people when they approach, and hardly ever striking the fancy to venture into the nearby towns outside of his wood. However, what people he can say he DOES like, are the wandering gypsies that pass through now and then, bearing strange goods and wild stories of adventure and wonder. Of course, he has been known to swipe an artifact or two.

His self reliance is staggering, a slightly arrogant yet undeniable independence is what has aided him in survival, and yet it was only with the help of the aged lore caster was he enabled to use the strange magicks he wields.

History: Annanebra Delisfasta Channing, a name few would know upon his birth, and yet left abandoned on the steps of the royal palace of Danistae, he would fall under an entire nation's grace. Neb was made the son of a king, deep in the heart of the western lands. His father's crownship governed over nearly half of all the West, and his home was merely a day's trudge from the temple. Neb have grown to love and cherish his father, being a subtle and kind man who often spent countless hours adventuring across the lands with his son in tow, explaining the workings of the world to a child of such young age.

However, this fairy tale life would have to end somewhere, and upon the selection of King Danistae VIII as the new "heir" of the Western Temple, Neb's father was ripped away from him by the great circle. Life and death, such a tragic tale, few could overcome it, and time and time again Neb would come to learn the despicable truth to these words. At the age of 8, Neb struck out into the world, on his own. Abandoning the royal life, and his ascension to kinghood, he became a wandering vagrant out on the planes, continuing along the last path of adventure he and his father took, and carrying with him the last words his father spoke on this path.

"Nebra, there will come a time when you will be faced with a difficult choice, whether it be life or death on the line, you must make this choice in the greatest interest of the people who depend on you."

He would live on to remember the saddistic foolishness these words held. His father died in vain, and his acheivement was nil.

Only a couple years later, Neb reappeared inside a small town near the border between the West and the south, a town called Effervast, outside who's limits rested a strange wood who, according to local legend, shimmered once a year to coincide with the death of the High Priest in the west. It was said, this glow, this shimmer, was the product of deep and foreboding magicks, where the last of the unicorns hid. However, Neb knew this could only be legend, and by instinct grabbing the pendant around his neck, he forced himself into the forest. When the anniversary came around, nothing happened. All through the night, the chirp of the crickets was all that resounded inside this wood, and far as the eye could see across the planes, there were no unicorns on the approach. The legend would be dismissed.

However, as luck would have it, Nebra was far wrong. 11:30, a mere half hour before the night's end, a glint from deep inside the forest drew Neb back in, and what he witnessed was indeed, a unicorn. This was not a living thing, but a manifestation of the ancient magicks inside the wood, manifesting themself in the form of a great black stallion. As it turned to face Neb in it's ghost-like form, he was strickened with pertrification, and all that he knew was the beating of his own heart.....no....it was not his heart. The medallion on his chest was pounding, and it seemed to be calling to the beast.

The pounding continued to climb, and just as sudden, the unicorn charged him. Slowly, as Neb lost consciousness, he saw only one thing, a man, intercept the unicorn, and then he was fast asleep.

A few days later Neb awoke, leaning against that same tree, and looking upon an old man, seated around a campfire and chanting some odd mantra. His magick, it seemed, was feeding the flame. The man Nebra learned, was a wanderer from the south, a manipulator of fire, and wielder of two great blades called the Firebrand. He was a powerful legend keeper, and the holder of immense knowledge.

Years passed, and when Neb turned the age of 17, this old man, who had taught Nebra so much about magick, and the world that he had wandered, died. Neb had lost the second man he'd loved like a father, and once more he was alone in the world, with naught but his forest to contain him. So, here he dwelled, as he had for many years with the old man, honing the magical prowess bestowed upon him by the man's indomitable knowledge, with naught but the inkling that there lies outside this forest and entire world left to explore.

Someday, I'll see that world.

Appearance:

Nebra had two, black, pupiless eyes. However, when he is using magic, his pupils fill in as bright silver bulbs inside his eyes, ensnaring his enemies in wonderment before he strikes them down. His long silver hair drapes down around his upper back, having gone uncut for over a year, yet hidden beneath the assassin's cloak he stole from...well....an assassin. Beneath his cloak, his Firebran daggers are latched to his side by two thick leather straps, laced with thick honey to hold them up from lack of a sword hilt. His sharp features carry a brooding and yet virilant tone to his usually expressionless face, and yet it is his smile, say the women of the village, that has enabled him to get away so easily with his booty.*stolen goods << >>*

Weapons: Neb wields two, red, unhilted daggers. Imbued inside these blades is nectar stolen from the womb of a dragon, a poison that many natives of the south call Firebrand. It burns the flesh and can often cause spontaneous combustion over time.

Powers: Neb can harden his body, and anything he touches, to the solidity and strength of a unicorn horn, the most powerful substance known to man.

High Priest of: High Priest of the West *Unicorn Boy*

Theme songs: Killer Likes Candy - I Am Ghost

 

[TheClamWhisperer]

OOC: You're in, ED. =D GoH sent me here to bump the thread because she is LAZY. -throws guilt- We'll start once we've got some more people.

 

[MESMAR_RISING]

This would be your cue to write me off. I'm not going to be able to participate in this roleplay. I'm sure you can fill the place I would have taken up with someone far more superior. Sorry for posting again.

 

[GuardianOfHearts]

{ I'm gonna miss you ... and it WILL be hard to replace you. Dx Well, consider this like an ad, bump, and post all in once .. need more people....}

 

[Alaude Drenxta]

OOC: Hmm....want I should go member hunting massah? D=

 

[GuardianOfHearts]

{ If you can think of suitable people, then yes, unicorn-boy, hi-ho silver aaaawwwaaay!

...couldn't help myself. x3 }