A new era in original, fantasy RP. Four populated nations surround the ruins at the center of the known world - each with their own, strong culture. This original tale is woven around lush forests, dangerous city slums, raging seas, and endless valleys. A writer's greatest adventure is an application away.
Be it advanced technology, a knightly order, the way of a hunter, or the strength of a gang as your shield.. the land's new-born darkness will tear away at anything in its path. Fight for the gods? Fight for you nation? Fight for yourself?
WHO WILL YOU BLAME.
That's right. Be wary. Each thread the desecrants show up in will have a maximum amount of players allowed to enter to fight it. Though they may not be defeated right away, you might make them think twice about facing mankind... and could very well find them somewhere else in the world later on trying to get better luck.
A competition has been set up to create your very own NPCs! Create up to five for around the world of From Dust and you have a chance to get them accepted into the site's beastiary! This expands on our member-created base as an original site, so have at it!
Post by Aaron Grimior on Apr 2, 2014 20:22:37 GMT -6
Aaron sat in the dimly lit bar of the inn he'd taken refuge in until he could leave this frozen country. Why had he even come on this trip? Just because his father didn't believe he knew enough about the world to be worthy? It wasn't like going across seas to a different country would change anything. All of the things on this country just seemed so mundane. And now he was traped because of the frozen seas drinking whatever sorry excused of unpurified liquid he patrons here called water. It certainly didn't taste like water as he knew. This water wasn't pure or clean or even completely clear. But he didn't have much of a choice other than the ales and beers of the bar.
He looked arond the room at the other customers of the bar. Most didn't seem like they had rooms in the inn and were here only for the drinks. That made them all the more boring. Layabouts who didn't contribute to the whole of society should be forced into jobs whether they liked it or not. Anyone who would frequent a bar to get wasted and unruly weren't giving anything of use to society. They only caused unrest and broken laws. Two things Aaron hated above all else.
He finished his drink and set the cup down. The metal tasted still lingered in his mouth. At this point he might as well order a beer to wash the flavour away. That or go out and scoop up some snow to drink. It probably tasted much cleaner than this.
Post by Sylas Sage on Apr 10, 2014 10:03:00 GMT -6
Sylas stumbled into the bar of one of the inns scattered across Aster. This must have been the third one he visited today, and he had room for more. The warmth of the inside provided relief for his chilled bones from walking outside. As usual, Sylas felt little of the cold, for his mind was wandering places the shouldn't have been. The same thoughts that always occupied his drunken mind at this unholy hour of the night.
He stumbled over to the bar, ordered an ale and leaned back against a bar stool. Another wasted night. With a sigh he turned and noticed a man he didn't see when he waltzed in. He scanned him with analytic eyes. Tall, lean, the build of a warrior. But there was a different air about him. He wasn't from around here that much was evident, he was drinking water after all. The beauty that sat beside him caught his attention though. A finely polished long sword with what seemed like a gun as a handle. Sylas had never seen the likes of it before. He definitely wasn't from around here.
Normally, it wasn't Sylas' custom to initiate conversations with strangers, but his curiosity over came him. His drink arrived and he tapped the man on the shoulder. "That's a nice blade you have there, stranger," was what decided to start the conversation with. It was as good a starter as any.
Post by Aaron Grimior on Apr 10, 2014 20:21:22 GMT -6
Aaron felt the tap and turned to the black haired man. This obviously wasn't the first bar he'd been to this night but Aaron decided it would be best to be civil for now. He turned to get a better look at the man. Pale skin, dark hair and eyes, broad shoulders. He looked like a man who did some form of manual labor but not in an area under the sun. He carried a longsword on his back. Due to his statement, he obviously had an appreciation for swords.
"Thank you. My father gifted it to me long ago." Aaron looked away from the man and at the stale water still remaining in his cup. He shook his head and pushed the cup away before ordering a beer from the waiter. "I see you have a blade of you own. In a land such as this, it seems like that is the most reliable weapon." The waiter came over with his beer and Aaron took a drink. The flavour spread through his mouth but only barely touched the staleness of the water. He sighed and looked back at the man. "I am Aaron Grimior of Aquavia."
Post by Sylas Sage on Apr 11, 2014 12:33:20 GMT -6
Sylas righted himself in the stool, taking another sip of his Hrystian ale. Still scanning the man but coming to the conclusion he was not threat. Sylas believed in civility between seasoned warriors, though just because he sports a longsword doesn't mean he knows how to use it.
"Your father, huh?" He asked after and out sip, "seems we got that much in common, the blade here is kind of a keepsake from my father after his passing, it hasn't seen much daylight these days however." For a man that had far more to drink than another would know what to do with, Sylas spoke as clearly as he would if sober, he still was pretty much sober, it took alot for him to fully indulge. The young man glanced over his shoulder at the handle of his mighty companion. "Out here in Hryst we honor things like swordsmanship and weapons expertise. So yes, a well made blade is a man's best friend around here."
As Sylas suspected, the man was an outsider. "Aquavia" Sylas said almost to himself, with a chuckle and another sip of his ale, "You're a long way from home." For once now, the drink was put down, and Sylas reached a hand over to introduce himself like a gentleman. "Names Sylas, Sylas Sage." Another strange happening, for Sylas rarely acted the way he is now. On normal days he'd stick to himself and ignore those around him. But he had yet to trade conversation with another swordsman trained with the longsword, so perhaps, that's what drew him to the other.
Post by Aaron Grimior on Apr 11, 2014 20:20:21 GMT -6
Aaron shook hands with the man. Sylas. He definitely had an appreciation for swords, that much was certain. Though Aaron wasn't sure how well he would be able to handle one in his condition. He spoke clearly enough but it was obvious that he'd had plenty to drink. Aaron noticed the look Sylas held for his sword, one of admiration and respect. He held his father and his sword in high regard. Aaron could respect that. He took a drink of the beer. He didn't get drunk easily but the beer also didn't have much alcohol in it. It wasn't as if Aaron was trying to get drunk, he just wanted something easy to drink.
"Well Sylas, I can see that you think of your father with honor. What did he do before his passing?" He took another sip of his beer. The stale flavor of the water was now gone so he didn't need to order another beer. He downed the rest and put his cup aside before looking back at Sylas. He watched the dark haired swordsman's face to judge his reaction.
Post by Sylas Sage on Apr 16, 2014 20:50:39 GMT -6
Sylas sort of cringed at the mention of his father. Sure, it's been years, but the topic was as sore as ever, he was never allowed to mourn his loss. The young man looked down at his cup of ale. The other man didn't know about Sylas' father, and Sylas was not a rude man, so he decided to feed the man's curiosity.
"My father..Was well known in this city. He was a knight of very high rank. He knew the codes like he had been born knowing them. It was like he was fueled by the thrill of battle. He was in all ways a powerful, honorable man. However, he didn't have a clue how to be a father." he chuckled at the thought. "He took my brother and i as kids and trained us like army men. I mastered the longsword at age 15. My brother left as soon as he could and my father in his old age became ill and eventually died. Been alone ever since." Sylas continued to look down. It wasn't often that he told the story of his history but then again, it wasn't often someone genuinely cared. It wasn't some grand secret, he'd be glad to tell anyone who asked.
"I always honored him, as a knight, and a father. He molded me into a man, and that's why i carry this blade around with pride." He took a long swig of the ale, finishing it, something had to drown those old emotions crawling up on him.
Post by Aaron Grimior on Apr 16, 2014 21:12:35 GMT -6
Aaron listened as Sylas told him about his father. He noticed the immediate change in attitude. "I didn't mean to bring up any ill feelings." He listened as the man told about his father being a powerful knight. He was reminded of his own father slightly in that he trained Aaron in skills of swordsmanship and gunplay at a very young age. "My father saw my potential before even I did. He saw how I was given a gift from the gods for enhanced reflexes. He made me train when I was young to become a good swordman and gun weilder. It's helped me out quite a bit though I greatly disliked all of the training when I was a child."
He finished his beer and set the cup down on the table. He wasn't getting another. He wasn't fond of being drunk. It caused too many problems with conduct and memory. He stretched a bit and pulled the blade out to set it on the table so Sylas could get a better look at it. He also pulled out a small, black cube with a notch on one side. He slid the notch against the edge of the blade to sharpen it. He swept it along several times until the tip gleamed. Putting the cube away, he pulled out a cloth and began to clean the sides. "I'm just glad I don't have to use it very often. I'd rather avoid confrontation for as long as possible. It's easier that way."
Post by Sylas Sage on Apr 22, 2014 14:04:04 GMT -6
"No ill feelings, friend. Just hard to remember is all." He said to the man, lying of course but Sylas wasn't one to show weakness. He began to listen intently as the other man spoke of his history with his father, learning the ways of the swordsman, it was surprisingly similar. Though, the part of him bringing up the gift was what really caught Sylas' attention. Another person like him. "Enhanced reflexes, huh?" The light of an idea glowed bright inside him, he was excited by it. "Perhaps you and i should spar sometime, i'd love to see that gift of yours in battle, it must be quite the sight."
The other man pulled the blade to the table where he would begin sharpening it to perfection. A shimmer of interest and admiration was in Sylas' eyes. It really was a lovely blade. And a peculiar one. "I agree. One mustn't fight over frivolous things. Though, somethings can only be solved by an honorable fight. When you're out there, blade to blade, is when you can really blow off steam. All anger goes away." He seemed lost in himself as he basically announced his philosophy on honorable battle. The blood of the knight ran deep and true in him indeed." Snapping back to reality however he shrugged. "But that's just a Hrystic man's thoughts, don't know how you do it up in Aquavia." He sat back with a more grave expression, looking down on the counter top holding his cup in both hands. "Have you ever had to kill anyone?" He asked gravely.
Last Edit: Apr 23, 2014 8:23:03 GMT -6 by Sylas Sage
Post by Aaron Grimior on Apr 23, 2014 14:28:59 GMT -6
Aaron finished cleaning off the blade before checking the pistol. "That may be the way things are done in Hryst but in Aquavia, we have other ways of settling disputes. Discussion, intelligent discussion. Not saying that intelligence is not an attribute to everyone here but the general populace," he looked around at the drunken and rowdy crowd. "The general idea of debate would hurt many of the brains of most in here. An honorable fight wouldn't settle things either." Two men started brawling by the bar. "That there, drunken misconduct. Brutish brawling. An honorable fighter you may be Sylas, but most in here would sooner resort to cheap tricks and barbaric acts to get their points across. You may very well be the only truly honorable Hrystic person in this inn."
He finished with the pistol and put the weapon away. He knew his father would disapprove of his thinking but Aaron had found that to be the truth. He was reminded of the arguments he used to have with his father about people. His father believed everyone had good points. Aaron refused to believe it. He believed that only a few people were truly pure and good. But generally people had more bad than good. He looked at Sylas when he asked about killing someone. "I've had the opportunity but it's not my decision as to whether or not they live. I would only kill if I had no choice. And that is something that I luckily haven't had to deal with."
Post by Sylas Sage on Apr 29, 2014 12:05:13 GMT -6
Sylas almost took offense to the man's comment on the way things are handled in Hryst. But, the man quickly fixed himself. Indeed, honor was a big deal to the young man. It was all he knew, the codes. He would live by them faithfully, but none more than honor, honor in battle and honor in actions. It was how Sylas' old man taught it, and it was how it was going to be. "It's true. Unfortunately, Hyrst's code of honor was lost long ago when the gang violence erupted. One didn't have to be born into the family of a knight or go to the academy either. Living life honorably here was a given." He looked over to the men in the bar brawling,indifferently. The whole bar standing around them to witness the outcome. They were much like animals, and Sylas quickly understood the reason why this man didn't care to indulge in his drinking.
The man answered Sylas' question and Sylas grew distant. Asking was a terrible idea because he knew precisely why he had asked but dared not think about it. It was that night with the girl, when he first got his abilities. Sylas was very much a fierce warrior, a knight after all, but killing someone? That to him was something he doesn't think he could handle. Those men that night deserved to die. No doubt. But the night was so cloudy now. It was hard for him to remember. Had he killed them? There was no blood, no trace of them left. The thought weighed heavily on him since then.
"Lucky indeed, it's an ugly thing, killing someone i mean." He said quietly still lost in his thoughts. "If a man has to die for his deeds so be it. But frankly, there's been too much death going around. No discrimination. Women, men, children. And for what?" He spoke almost to himself. Talking too much, more than normal. But Sylas had alot to say and no one to listen to him.