Character Sheet Magoi: (240/240) Stamina: (590/590)
With two existing magi's existing, the Contractor who wishes for a balance, and Jiryu trying to keep the light afloat in the world. The rukh however seems to stir. Another Magi has existed in the world, hidden since their birth. No matter how they came the Rukh can sense one thing. Great darkness follows them, a Dark Magi is coming.
We are holding an official writing contest to decide the creation of the next magi. Anyone on the site is capable of participating in the contest but there will be a few rules. In order to be viable for the contest however you're going to have to adhere by a few select rules.
The magi must be Dark Rukh
You must submit a piece of writing, in it you must include a dungeon raising no more than 1000 words and no less then 200.
All submissions must be sent in a pm to the Solomon's Proxy Account
After one week, on January 29th all submitted entries will be posted in this thread anonymously and players will be up to vote for the piece that they believe is the most well written. Players are encouraged to give their reasoning.
You must post your vote in the thread for it to count.
If there is a tie those involved must create a character profile which will then be voted on based on history and lore for the magi.
Once approved the magi will be the players to control with staff input or request for help with events. If a player misses two activity checks with the magi it is given to staff to use as NPC giving them creative control. If the player comes back they may regain control but must continue from the plots for them.
A Blood Moon adorned him in amber, searing ambience onto his ebony features and form which was as dark as the first night of man; in fact it reflected the mystery of an eclipse as he silhouetted the Blood Moon. Every curvature of his form was marked by the alien language of the Gods, as if he was ornamented by the tongue of ancients. He swung his legs from the ledge of a black 'Mecca' structure, that was buried in the dark sands underneath the bleeding chandelier moon.
A river of hot liquid turned the sand obsidian but was parted by the structure as if invulnerable to it's heat. As the lava boiled and festered the volcanic fissures produced lightning that roared across the night sky.
He lifted his arm with the skull of an unknown creature within his palms.
"When every Kingdom falls! Who is there to rule them all!?"he sang to the dried skull playing with it in child like nature.
"It is I! Dashing into action"
"Cosmic Black Horror"
"Adorned Dark Source of Creation!"
"Abyssal King!"
"Master of the rift"
"Shanti! Shanti!"
"...Ryar.", a voice called that beckoned thunder.
"Haa-Brother!", and the black rukh ushered. Another figure whose cherrywood skin was accentuated by the rose ambience of the Moon appeared from thin air magically. His hair was platinum like the silver lining, slicked back but for the few bangs that shielded his face and eyes.
"Do you seek Chaos Brother?"
"Of Course!" He released the skull into the river of lava.
"I am Chaos! And this world is in our hands! We shall inherit this!"
"And what of it?", the eldest closed his eyes.
"Having the world did not save ours."
"But don't you see!" He pleaded manically. "Brother in the shadow of Death's Valley we escaped evil. Trapped in the puzzle for eons, we followed the map you scarred upon my body with the knowledge of the universe."
The eldest looked away.
"In the darkest of evil hides the strongest point of light!", He proclaimed.
"Perhaps.." his brother spoke, his heart and mind still vulnerable to their first taste of fresh freedom.
"I can't believe we made it out the back door. Thank Solomon and Father-"
"Don't say that!", The lightning struck the river of flames splashing particles of molten rock across the two. They were unmoved.
"This pain is nothing from what we experienced in that maze. If only that bastard had let us die!"
"Ryar!", his voice bellowed and shifted the energy in the air. "Did you not say in the greatest darkness hides the greatest light?"
"Aren't we that light?"
"Yes!", He spoke confidently."That is why I shall be the Darkness! So that nobody may experience true Darkness again!"
The conversation muted as the flicker of lightning flashed across Ryar's image.
"This is my love.", he said.
He was embraced by his brother who held him with the tears of a father's love.
"Please…Let your kindness be unchanged.."he whispered. He was the only one who could truly understand the hell of escaping the puzzle.
"We have to do something brother! To lead the others to the new world."
"Then let us, together!"
They joined hands and stepped into the air as if marching up an invisible stairway to the Heavens. They made their way across the stars until they reached the massive blood moon that observed the world from above like the evil eye. They stood between the clouds and hellfire clearly silhouetted by the lunar gem.
"???", They commanded as they rose their palms skywards. The Earth shook and a tremor was felt across the entirety of the sandy nation, fracturing and splitting the desert's heart.
"Shanti!" They praised and marvelled with ecstacy, as the obelisk that supported the mecca rose. It was gargantuan shaking the Earth as it ripped through the continental plates, and in turn creating wells of magma flowing like rivers that glowed powerfully in the twilight.
The structure was obsidian and yet it glimmered with voids and stars that lived inside it. It stretched across infinities bridging through space and time.
"The Back-Door Dungeon!", the door of the dungeon was a white mirror that stretched across the complex architecture. It was the most grande light and it's aura had the color of virgin love.
"The Pink and White Destiny! May it guide our friends", the eldest brother said in Torran.
"From this door nothing may enter it but it's divine light may stretch through time and space and lead the others, this is our love", he prayed.
A question that echoed within the depth of her heart. She can see that fleck of gold and amber— a flame once lost. Once she had answered:
I do.
Yet entangled they were within the red strings. Their fingers so far from reach. She could escape her duties, cover her skin in different cloth, change her identity— to feel fresh grass beneath her fingers— the warmth of his breath upon her cheek once more, even that would be enough.
Once they thought it to be a puzzle, something to solve. if the sun could long for the moon, then who was to say they could not meet in eclipse? Yet each piece they unraveled pulled them further apart like the ripping of tides until all she could see was his embers fade from her vision.
Fate was a force stronger than even herself. it is not something meant to be overcome. But as long as air draws into her lungs, she would stray from the path given to her. She breathes his name from her heart. A reminder of why she had made this decision— to break from the shackles of fate. But never to forget what she was.
So with her hands pressed upon the ground, she digs her roots into the earth. Rukh dances in clusters around her body and upwards into the skies. The sunset reflects off the periwinkle stars that gaze into its perfection. Each grain of sand swirls in wispy spirals, rising into alabaster pillars, etching every detail into the art they formed.
The ground rumbles and shakes as the desert sinks into itself to make room for something greater. A home for a being that in the right hands that she was sure could change destiny itself. Where she had failed, one may succeed in the war against powers greater than them all.
The dunes shifted with the wind as the night sky roared to lift with a violent storm. Every few seconds the sky would flash with the bright light of lightning as the heavy rains soaked the sand on the surface. The heat could be felt lifting from the sand from the cooling waters hitting and beating the grains down into the earth. Weather like this was not something that game around often off the coast of Heliophat. The rarity of the weather was not without reason though, it was brought by something, or rather someone.
Red cloth rodes flapped rapidly around his waist thanks to the storm winds. His black hair swaying, yet his eyes were wide and open like the mouth of a canyon, as yellow irises stared down at the sea. What he sought was just below it, yes the very thing that would give the ones he chose as his Kings the power they would need to bring back the world to what it was before, and what better way than to use the tools left behind, tools that would be the KEY to his goals.
"Oh yes, I do think this one will do rather nicely. I do hope those other two keep their damn noses out of my business long enough for me to watch those who come to claim this Dungeon, surely one out of the bunch will have that in which I seek for a King."
Twirling his long staff the young Magi would grasp it firmly, rain swinging off of it as he thrust the staff into the air. Bubbles would start to surface as he commanded the Dungeon to rise and breach to the surface. Soon enough, a shadowy figure could be seen hurling from the depths of the sea until it erupted fully erect from the waters. A large cylinder structure was now standing out from the water about 10 meters. The salty sea water pouring off its sides only to be mixed and washed off by the heavy rain waters.
Lowering himself down to the top of the structure with his Strength Magic, he motioned himself to the ledge before taking a seat while leaning forward.
"This is so exciting! I just can't wait until they get here. There is so much to see and discover! I wonder what kind of people will show up? Perhaps that Dungeon Beast who is causing Chaos, yes he has promise and that puppet hasn't set his claws into him yet. Though I must admit the clown has found himself some pretty nice Kings, perhaps one of them will show up and I can see just why he gave them those knock-offs. Perhaps one of the others who have Claimed a Dungeon will come, oh wouldn't that kick things into an entertaining show. "
Breaking into a manic laugh he would grip his face with his left hand and be consumed with laughter until his lung ached from the lack of air. After catching his breath he'd look about.
"Damn them, what are they waiting for HURRY UP AND GET HERE YOU FOOLS!"
The salt-breeze licked the ebony cliffs with its biting cold, lifting loose sediment into the waters lolling about below. The shore was a graceful arc of smooth pebbles, bright white under the morning sun, a perfect place for the lazy ocean to lap. The waves rolled swift and invited brief flurries of sand upon the shore, before treating with the ebbing waters.
But the salt-breeze carried more than the usual sharp sting of spray. A thick stench hung upon the air, dizzying the mind with unsettling familiarity. It was the same smell that you might find with rusting iron on a ship's hull or fresh meat hanging on a butcher’s rack; it was the stench of blood. The black rocks were splattered with that vivid red, its excess mixing with the green below.
”This is exactly what I didn’t want…” A young man, clothed in scarlet leather, gazed at the black rukh gathering around the bloodied rocks. “I chose this goddamn place because I didn’t want to dirty my hands like this. Ugh, it’s like the world just does the exact opposite of what I want… Well, gotta make good use of what I got, right?” He thrust his wand towards the black rukh and commanded them to come nearer. As they neared him, he drew them through the wand and into his body, savouring the taste of that sorrow and hatred within. But he had greater plans for the black rukh than a simple meal,
“See, I don’t care if the world doesn’t wanna help me,” As he spoke, his lips drew into a wolfish smile, “Cos this shitty world needs someone shitty like me to change it. You heard me? I’m gonna change this world, even if I make it my enemy!” He glared at the greying skies, as if challenging them, “Well then, guess it’s time I got this started, right?” With a widening of his wolf-like grin, he pointed his wand skywards and began his grand ritual,
“O hall of the Dungeon, which art sacred to Solomon, manifest thyself in this place! Nihayat Alealam, open sesame!”
As his incantation came to a close, the black rukh swarmed above the ocean before coalescing into a six-pointed star upon its surface. In response, the waters parted and the waves rushed towards the shore, as something huge began pushing upwards from the depths below. A scarlet smile arose upon those lips of a liar, joy seeping into the magician’s expression when he looked upon the fruits of his labour: a Dungeon was rising into the sky above.
That wolf in sheep’s clothing had finally achieved his goal, and his confidence was now doubly-strong with the new Dungeon. But for the magician, this was simply the hunting-ground where he might secure a delicious feast - and not the feast itself. No, the feast known as a King Candidate would arrive soon, and he would dine upon their success.
The snowy fjords of The North Sea Isles were a cold and awe-inspiring place, and as the snow drifted down from the sky guided into the inlet guided along the cliff onto the water it would look and feel as if nature was taking a breath. Along the shallow shore, cool water fell on warm soil as a woman sitting at the boundary experienced the change of season as she breathed with the valley that decorated the landscape behind her.
"Mm, not quite like the waters of Balbadd, but refreshing nonetheless. " The woman spoke her words springy and her head swaying like grass as her green hair shook above her shoulders. "Though I'd love to go take a bare dip I suppose I have work to do..."
The woman stood, she wasn't quite tall, but she wasn't quite short either as she was just slightly on the higher side of average for humans and magicians and this proved useful as she walked back up the beach. There was a drop that shorter people couldn't climb, but she'd have no problem reaching and making it to the top. As she made it over the top she turned and plopped her seat on the edge as she seemed to lament for a moment. "It's a shame that I have to do it here, I would've preferred dropping this in the middle of Reim, but I suppose all things come in due time."
Ending her statement with a sigh she finally stood once more before reaching for a staff that had been leaning against a nearby boulder. It was simple, made from wood that could be found in most tropical forests around Balbadd but what made it stand out was the painted skull atop with a candle that had obviously burned as the wax dripped down the bone and into its and eyes and mouth to choke the decomposed decapitated head. It even held sturdy as she picked it up and tossed it between her hands like she was playing with batons before finally ending her game as she tossed it up and caught it with both of her hands. With her eyes closing and her general rocking stopping her demeanor changed as she began to focus.
The breeze of the valley halted just as the viridescent haired woman took in a deep breath and felt the wind still on her skin, her body seeming to stop in time as she and the valley refused to move forward in time for the moment. As time seemed like it was going to collapse in on itself she finally exhaled as the breath of the fjord came back with the snow as she began to focus her control of the magoi in her and the rukh in the world around her.
The wind began to pick up like the world around her was gasping for air and then suddenly in a sudden rush birds made of ghastly darkness and birds of dazzling golden light. They rushed down the steep sides of the cliffs in the fjords as they gathered around the shore she had previously been standing on. The shore had started to get warmer in opposite to the air that felt as if all life was being sapped from it. The beach got so hot that the little plants around it began bursting into flame and then finally as the wildfire's started the magi found herself caught in a flash feeling as if each moment was stuck as a painting as the light flashed in triple as lightning struck the beach three times. However, with the fire and smiting bolts from the sky that was not the most surprising thing as glass had erupted from the ground. It grew and became more refined like a glassmaker at work as it formed from sand and earth into a palace with a port that obstructed the majority of the inlet. As the light began to shine off it and into the Magi's eyes she came back from her trance as she began to giggle in response to what she had done.
"Oh it's fantastic, I will miss the beach but this is an art in itself." Pulling both of her slender, guileful hands to her lip she would kiss them as her violet nails grazed her own skin for a moment before she sent it forward blowing a kiss towards the dungeon. "I'm sure people will find this quickly, but I don't need them to I suppose, after all, I have you."
At that moment as she turned it was revealed who she was talking to, two children from Reim, and their parents nearby. One of them began to cry, but she just picked him up and carried him off towards the dungeon before returning to the younger tied up brother.
"WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS?!" He cried as he was yanked by his baby blue hair, but his tears fell on deaf ears as he was dragged to a cliff near the shore. It wasn't too tall, but it would definitely hurt, or kill if thrown down wrong.
"Oh you didn't know?" She stopped and lifted him up by his neck now finally willing to answer him as her voice was broken by giggles. "You need the brightest lights for there to be any shadows, and your brother is loved by fate while you aren't"
"P-P-PLEASE I D-DON'T WANNA I DON'T WANNA DIEEEEE." He sobbed loudly with snott bubbling from his nose like magma breaking through the earth.
"Then prove it." With her words sounding like bitter poison she drove a bloodied dagger into his side, the same one she killed his parents with, and with that she threw him off hearing his limbs crack on the rocks below like the shells that decorated it. "Oh and I'd watch out for the incoming tide, cutie."
It was on an island out sea, southeast of Balbadd, where there was a party to be seen. In an open field there was a large gathering of forty or so people dancing and eating along with other more intimate activities. There was a long, oblong shaped table that was covered in a variety of food for the revelers to gorge themselves on. Next to the festival was a massive wooden statue of a humanoid figure that was 20 meters or so tall. There was also a band playing music that matched well with the party that was going on. The ones dancing were covered in body paint with a very little amount of clothing on.
Amidst the festival was a person that had goat like horns coming from his head like several other members. These horns were attached to the head through surgery or magic of some kind. He was grinning as he was taking part in the festival. He was a larger man with white hair and bright golden colored eyes. He would speak up over the music to make an announcement of some kind. "Excuse me for a moment. I hate to interrupt the festivities but I would like to say something. Today we are having a festival for our last day on this island. We had all come here to this island for various reasons and found that we all had the same fondness of partying. So we named ourselves the Revelers of Bacchus, after the name of this island and have taking luxury of whatever we want not bound by wrong and right and good and evil. We are free from all of that and free from fate. We are the true free people of this world and we will spread our freedom to others in this world. To hell with Fate and with the magi who are trying to balance the world. We will party and take delights in whatever we want, drugs, sex, food or even blood! Now let this night finally begin!" He would gesture to a group that would go to the large statue while all music had stopped yet there was still sounds in the silence of the party. THe torch bearers would light the statue on fire sending it up in a massive blaze as the crowd would cheer.
The sounds heard earlier would grow louder once the fire was lit. It was not the partygoers however, but the statue itself, screaming. Suddenly the party would begin to take a dark turn. The statue was not solid wood but more like wicker basket that was woven together by several pieces of wood. Intertwined with the wood were dozens of writhing hands and limbs as the people trapped inside the burning effigy screamed in terror. Upon a second look the party was not so wholesome as it first seemed. Scattered amongst the food was hearts, intestines and other human organs, and the body paint was actually dried blood that the had covered themselves in.
Kodya, the speaker earlier, was now dancing with a skull adorned staff laughing and cheering with the other revelers. As he was dancing his moves seemed almost ritualistic as he was pouring energy into his staff and the air. The revelers stopped as they watched him performing the ritual. Soon a massive tower of crimson stone and crystal began to rise behind the burning effigy. This was a sign that Kodya was a magi and proof of his power. The revelers would continue partying excited by this feat and saw it as a sign of their soon departure to the mainland to continue the eternal festival.
Who was the wisest woman on earth? Some people might say it was their mother, for the unconditional love, the sacrifice she made... for heaven lies beneath the feet of your mother.
A happy hum could be heard from afar within the vast ocean and any people who listened to it would recognize the song immediately as the well known nursery rhyme from the Remano Empire. Her song would be as warm as the sun and as alluring as the siren’s voice, but as she reached the middle of the trade sea, she would stop humming. “Here would be good.”
Niobe, was her name. A slender, pale skinned woman cladded in an oversized robe, matching with her big hat that was covering her long, ravenous hair. Her appearance gave her a witch-like impression and she was one, a gifted magician, but that was not all. The rukh would begin to flutter around her and her giggles could be heard as she brushed her hands to the swarm of dark butterflies. Yes, she was loved by the rukh and she loved them back in return, for she was a Magi. “Now now, we don’t have time to play. I couldn’t wait to meet my children.” The rukh would begin to swirl on the top of Niobe’s scepter as she pointed it towards an empty ocean, it would be forming a shape of ball and it would be bigger as more rukh joined the swarm. Then the giant ball of rukh would float towards the water and it would create a magic circle there . Niobe would then speak softly, "Rise."
In a moment, the magic circle would glow and the size would suddenly expand before disappearing, as if it was drowning into the sea. Then the waves from the sea would start to be more violent, welcoming the dungeon that would be emerging from the depths of the ocean. Niobe would bring her hands together, happy that she managed to raise a dungeon, feeling happy that now she could fulfill her wish. “Now that my ‘womb’ is ready… I can finally reunite with my children again.” The woman slumped on her knee, feeling a little bit drained. “Ahh~ I am exhausted, but as a mother, this is truly nothing. I just have to be patient now before I can see them.”
As she waited for sometime, the Magi would be delighted to see some visitors as she floated high in front of the entrance. One was a warrior, with a determination on his eyes mixed with a hint of revenge and rage. Another was a pure hearted soul, a curious human it seemed. Her blue colored eyes would be scanning all the contenders one by one. She would be able to see both white and black rukh floating around them and she would give approving nods with a smile carved on her face. The flying carpet made its way down, approaching the strangers slowly, but not too close, just enough for her to hold a conversation with them.
“I have been waiting for you, child. Come now, Mater will guide you.” Niobe would smile, just like a mother towards her children… lovingly and caring as she guided the brave challengers, who would enter her ‘womb’ soon. Then after that she would wait, patiently. She would be waiting for her children to be born with a power and she would guide them with utmost care and love...just like a doting parent. She would do anything for them, yes… anything, even destruction.
The darkness of Reim flourished while the moon hid itself in plain sight. Blankets of clouds would further enshroud the sky, beginning to swirl overhead. This magi would step towards the large structure, one that was visited daily in the heart of the country, representing conquest, power and domination. These were the attributes he would seek out for his candidate. Abbas sought to lead his pride to true glory. The blonde noble adorned in a mantle, embroidered with a personal insignia, covering the majority of his back. He wore the cloak with a certain egotism as if standing above the rest of the world.
Eyes masked behind a bandana, but still able to see everything. His hair like the arid grass of the savanna, swashing about in the night air. A sphere of gravitational magic would ascend him over the walls, cape fluttering. Now in the center of the arena, only a hundred meters above it. Abbas unsheathed the blade hiding at his waist.
The sword had a radiance all its own, it shimmered even in the absence of light. Abbas would close himself off from the world to bring forth the rukh. The dark energy seemed to find its focus along the ornamental weapon. The sword-stave would glow further, beginning from the handle of the blade, then along the face, all the way to the tip. In the same motion, Abbas would raise the blade above his head, as the dark rukh would convert to light magic. The magic gathering at the tip til it was brimming over with power. The energy sparked unable to be fully contained by the magi.
The dark magi would bring forth the full force of the blade down into the center of the Colosseum, as a single, refined laser of silver light, breaking through the magic barrier with that once protected the national treasure of Reim. The magic would vanish as it made contact with the ground. Eventually, stars would light up the space beneath Abbas. The spell finally activating, as a bullet of light would zip from star to star, recreating the schematics and printing another wonder of the world; a new vision of the Colosseum.
Abbas smirked, admiring the precision of his work. He would land on one of the points of radiance with a single foot and reversing his grip on his stave. The magi now called the earth and stone from beneath the surface to rise and fill constellation with a full dungeon. Standing on top of the world, Abbas would look down waiting for the people to see his creation that filled him with pride. His eyes could only see the rukh through his blindfold. Seeing masses of white rukh through the world, but his attention was brought to the darkness found within the light. To find someone who was able to carve out a piece of the world by themselves.
The world was a canvas, scrapped twice over. Passed between hands the edges of its' paper furled. It had been painted in white, a parhelion against the image of the sun, of the original light, tainted black. A clash filled with vibrant azures, the rich cosmic blues meant to hold back the night. The parchment had changed, but darkness eventually consumed all, as the primordial black scared off the light once again. Within new hands, the world set on a proper. It would work until a brush took control on its own. To tint everything, in the purest of ivory and Ebony, to strip all color from the painting of life. This time, unlike any other, would see other brushes rise to redraw the world, to correct its' image. While others would rise to redraw it entirely. The light stole, it drove out the chance for anything but its brilliance. The dark was what allowed for the light to shine, for the color to have a chance to shine in the world.
"Brughahhhhhhhh" Clouds would form from a single breath. It really was too cold, too cold for Aster at least. Short breaths and frozen air would make it hard for her to warm hands bitten by the winter, inflicting it with deep amethysts and pale, frosty blues.
"Har-Har Fanu." She would whisper soft enough to be muffled by the gentle snowfall. From it, the rukh would tremble, from just a weak mutter and the meek raise of a golden-rod hid beneath poorly chosen silk robes.
Flickering, in a womb of heat it grew. Before her in a ball of swirling heat that would grow. Forming, a child of flame it was born. A simple, but powerful flame to guide a coming blizzard, and most importantly warmth. It would embrace her in blazing arms as she ventured up the mountains. She could've viewed the world from the skies, but there was majesty in dancing with the earth, with enduring the elements.
It was in the struggle that beauty was born, it was in disasters that new life could be born. It was in dungeons that a King could be born. New kings must exist, there must exist struggle but no winner, no balance. There was no such thing, only life. It was from life she had learned two things, one could not escape being magi or their duties. The second thing she had learned, was that Solomon was wrong.
Divine right did not exist, it was that hubris that turned god and man against each other. It was a mercy to a dying race, a bastion which would be Ill Allah's own demise. He was a fool as well, not even God was absolute.
She was a fool too, for cutting her hair only a week before choosing to venture to the peak of the world. As the stories had told, however, even fools could stumble upon treasure. "And what is life, but the greatest gift of all.." would part from cracked lips painted crimson.
Up above, kissing the heavens with hard, jagged, frigid lips the earth lovingly met the sky. It was clear, with a sea of clouds dotted with peaks of lesser mountains. Stretching to a horizon strewn with vivid imagery. Scarlet danced from the setting sun. Mingling with the last of the yellow light, guiding it off, stretching into edges of blue turned purple and pink as the day would say it's goodnight.
"What a better herald for a new age than the twilight. إرتفع مفتاح الماضي و تاج الملوك" With the words of the Torran once again the Rukh would tremble. This time more than a shake, the world would shake upon its very roots. She would stare back into her own eyes through the back of the stave, a moment of staring into her lush emeralds hidden in the gold. The visage would vanish, as the stave thrust into the air, calling forth the rukh.
And with her plea, the great flocks of fate's birds would come. Erupting forth from the great mountain peak's face. Thousands of them, light with their sunflower wings and the dark contrasting with their dark wine feathers. Forming, entwining in a new shape as an avalanche would follow. Snow, rising, drifting away as a grant tower would begin to take form.
Just as the rukh intertwined so would the frame of the great pillar. Metal forming from the magic, wrapping like the roots of a tree. Growing, gripping tighter and tighter, weaving into a tight shape. Breaking further and further above into the air amongst the east's highest point. As it grew it truly was a great tree of metal, of a shimmering void. A dark, deep metal that branched off into the sky, and beneath this, there was a beauty. From the light's slightest touch it would respond, resounding in beauty. Thousands and thousands of little beacons hid inside, shining with every color of the rainbow.
Finally, the gate's growth would halt. Whilst the sun was gone, the great black metal branches of the dungeon would surely be able to grip it in daybreak.
Now she only had one more duty. To pick a king, sending them as a sacrifice in hopes they would bloom in the night. One to use the world to fight against fate's iron shackles. She now held the brush, she would ensure others would hold it as well. For if eventually, they did, no one would write their stories, or control the canvas ever again.
Meridia. It was a quickly growing new nation, without question due to the woman who made her mark on the lands to raise the nation herself, yet it was growing far too fast. It was what had drawn the newly minted Magi here in the first place. Such rapid growth and none had taken wider notice of such a dramatic shift in the world even as the Empress's own daughter ventured to all corners of the world as a diplomat to spread their nation's name and helping hand to all she could reach. Was this another of "Fate's plans" for the people of this world? Another of Solomon's wishes? "Well, that isn't any kind of fun." Simply the Magi lifted their finger, a single black butterfly void of detail landing on the tip of the finger and earning a genuine smile from the magician.
Lifting the butterfly to their lips the Magi would plant a single, gentle kiss to the metaphysical insect before sweeping out her arm over the rising kingdom they overlooked. As the insect flew from their finger it was only the first of a large, rushing swarm of dark Rukh that flew past the Magi where they sat. The Rukh had been given a destination, a point that they were to converge on off in the outer area from Meridia's boarders. The Earth would rumble and shake as the Rukh flew into the ground at the appointed location with the dirt beginning to stir. Seconds would pass which grew to minutes before a structure began to surface from below the ground. Yet none would notice this movement of the earth below them as the dungeon was born. That wouldn't be any fun at all. The fresh Magi had intended fun for this dungeon, not terror for those living nearby.
Crescent shaped metal detailings adorned the top of the rising tower, easily the most noticeable aspect until the structure began to gain mass. Twisting and swooping metals created a flowing design that seemed to start in a large circle at the top of the tower before traveling down and winding through the structure from one side into the other before returning back. As for the tower itself a long, serpentine flight of stairs that grew elevated as the rising tower shifted into that of a small mountain that swallowed the structure's base. Higher yet the mound grew and lifted the tower into the sky with the steps that would lead any and all who wished to try their luck at the dungeon within growing just as long. Finally the rumbling would cease and the tower fully risen. The young Magi smiled with delight as their looked over the first of what they could only hope would be many dungeons they would raise. "Nothing draws a crowd like a fresh dungeon. Word gets around so fast about them I can hardly believe this "Meridia" hasn't been turned into the hottest place to be already.
There are times wherein a story is brought, unbidden, to one’s mind. Whether from their youth or a time where they were impressionable enough for it to stick with them. Now was one such time, the words coming to them like whispers on the wind.
A woman sat in a meadow, surrounded in flowers blooming around her. She held in her arms a woman, old and clearly at the end of her days. She seemed comfortable in the woman’s arms, her eyes closed and her breathing even but slowing. The old woman didn’t have much time left, but neither her nor the woman that held her seemed to be concerned about it.
Then, at the edge of the meadow appeared a man. Where the woman in the meadow was light. Where flowers perked and turned towards her, all that lived drooped and turned away from him. He didn’t disturb them when he came, simply watched. As he did, the woman’s breathing slowly stopped and she fell limp, the last remnants of life fading from her form.
After a few moments, both women rose to their feet and walked towards the man at the edge of the meadow. With each step, the old woman seemed to go backwards in time. When they were a few feet from the man, she was a young girl in her prime once more, but she stopped and stared at the man in trepidation.
The bright woman wrapped her in a reassuring embrace, giving the young girl the strength she needed to walk past the man into the shadows of the forest. Now alone, the woman turned to the man with eyes full of sorrow “Death,” she spoke just as the man turned to leave, in a voice as sweet as honey and warmer than the summer sun “why do they love me but hate you?”
The man stopped in his tracks and replied, without turning “Because, Life, you are a beautiful lie. And I am the painful truth.” Then, he walked into the dark of the forest and disappeared, leaving the woman alone.
They didn’t know why that version came to their mind, it didn’t fit the scene before them. The bodies littering the ground, all of those who gladly walked into death’s arms. They had gathered together and drank an elixir they knew would bring them their last breaths, and they did it with a smile on their face.
All because they had said it was what some godly figure had wanted. Zealots were strange like that.
There was another version of the story that they favored more: where the woman lead an impatient group of three, warriors painted in blood with raucous grins on their faces, to the man. Frustrated with the warriors’ disregard for her, she asked the man “I give them everything, endless paths and possibilities, and yet there are still some who rush to meet you. Why?”
And to that the man smirked and replied “Because to some I am honor, I am freedom. I am all they could ever desire.”
They turned away from the town’s center and took a deep breath, attuning themselves with the world around them. They felt the way the wind moved, the ground beneath their feet, the thrumming of energy all around them...and the call of something beneath the ground.
They reached down, down, down to answer the call. There was a rumbling, and the ground parted to reveal a grand structure rising from the ground. It looked to them like a beautiful monument for what had occurred here today. An offering to death, a testament to what believers would do.
A sepulchre for the faithful.
And there was someone out there that could open its doors and reveal all of the secrets within. Secrets they could feel even from here. They would find that person and see what the tomb had to offer, the treasures that may reside inside. They turned back to all the bodies and mused to themselves for a moment.
Someone like that would need many more faithful...luckily the world was full of believers.
"No one cared until the mask was in place, all would gander for the image of my face, Unable to bear the harsh truth that awaits, That I can be.....Anyone........."
- Magaki Of The Soul Cartel
Step into Kellam Norwood, a once-in-a-lifetime Magi. With their advancements in necromancy based magic, they managed to immortalize their soul in an object of their choosing. A beaked Reim carnival mask with the inscription Medico della Peste ("Plague doctor") beneath the right eye. His clothing varied over time according to the person wearing the mask, but the mask was the dominant characteristic. With such a mask, these are the secrets disclosed, those who put the mask on will become a Magi. They take the name of "Magaki", the master of the soul cartel, the company of man's highest known commodity, the human soul. Reborn and reincarnated, Kellam becomes the inner voice of the new user to provide strength, ideals, wisdom and, at times, the body's final pilot.
After all, why be a return cycle while you can be an endless conglomerate?
With his current "apprentice" or "host", Magaki found himself in a shipwreck which he brought about by various means. In the nethermost waters of a grim, ominous sea lies the wreck of the Enchantress, a ship once used as a trading vessel for the northern tundra and the open seas. It is in a mildly rough state, but the damage already done continues to spread as people desperately cling to life. She'll continue to deteriorate over time as the situation gets worse, but passing creatures of the deep waters already started to board, drawn to the spilled blood of the desperate seafolk. They tracked down wooden beams and shaded corners, ripping out a body by injuring their lungs and drowning them in frozen water. They gave the Enchanter a new goal without even wanting it, which adds a certain beauty to her destiny, a grave from a dark sea.
One of those drowned tracks was the target Magaki was looking for, a young man named Philip. He had long watched Philip, his soul "qualified" to barter. The injuries on his neck were and stomach was fatal as blood filled his lungs, cold water and time freezing the body over time. Her tears rapidly turned into frost that developed around the corners of her eyelids, now barely a decent flutter on a plank of wood. He was dying, that's precisely what Magaki wanted.
"But not until..."
With a simple stroke of the wrist, the divine staff of Magaki was revealed. Infinity, Soul of the Forsaken, one of his most potent weapons he preferred to use. Rows of small gems cover the simple and straight staff, with the exception of the handle, which was painted in a simplistic style. The bottom ends in intertwining wave shapes made of adamantium and has been decorated with embedded crystals that are said to grow the more times magic is used while wielding the staff, it was also one of two places where the souls were stored. The tray is made of primitive glass and was shaped into a recessed sphere, which was decorated with a large jewel wrapped softly in golden claws. It was nice to see, but seeing it on your last breath signalled something even more abominable.
"Collect."
With a ghoulish silver aura, a silhouette of Philip escaped his body as it went inside of the staff and into the body of Magaki, extinguishing the embers of life from the dying lad. He had everything he wanted and could have easily left, but he decided not to. After all, there was so much more dying and recently deceased. For others, such a spectacle to watch, and calls for help were barbaric. Magaki calls it free real estate.
So now he has reached the last act of what he really wanted to do. With its magic, it ended up in the tropics of the Yambala forest. Going inside his coat, he exposed his chest. There were hundreds, even thousands of souls, wiggling as he snatched Philip's soul.
"It's time to do business."
After taking hold of the soul and firmly holding it in his hand, Magaki began to sing. Magical circles around began to center on a particular part of the forest as he waved his divine staff.
"O Mighty Djinn, in the name of the Magi, I offer this soul as compensation for your ascension." The life of a dignified one of your power, cycle your mind in exchange for an opportunity of power. Contract of the fall between two, you are bound!
Personality was important, the offered soul had to not only match the same qualities of the dungeon but had to be a likely candidate if placed in front of the djinn. Sacrifice a potential candidate before the dungeon even exists, yet raise him for another to stand a chance. It was Magaki's way of doing things. In exchange for the return of the spirit to the flux, a dungeon was raised in exchange. The forest burst and trembled with the climb of a temple with Aztec marks like, many to the joy of Magaki.
"Let us go to work, the disease of this world will not be healed alone."
Last edited by Solomon's Proxy on 31/01/21, 05:47 am; edited 1 time in total
We have 10 lovely candidates, we first ask everyone considering voting towards this upcoming Magi Representative to take time to read each of the Candidates pieces of work.
We will later add a voting poll but for the time being we will allow members to sit and digest the great pieces of work that have been written by our members to represent a Dark Rukh Magi.
When voting commences everyone will be asked to after voting state which candidate they vote for.
You may not vote for yourself and we ask that members include information on what they liked in their selected piece.
If you wish to also give constructive criticism to a piece you may.
We will get Uncle Voda to maybe write his constructive opinion if we can whip him out of WoW.
Character Sheet Magoi: (340/340) Stamina: (290/290)
I have to say 9 was my favorite. All of the submissions were great and well written, but 9 used a very beautiful set of vocabulary. It also felt most like a Magi, and related to the Magi lore. It is some of my favorite writing on the site.
4 was very nice as well, and had a very nice use of vocabulary and was vivid in its imagery.
Character Sheet Magoi: (110/110) Stamina: (215/215)
I really enjoyed 5, 7, and 14; well I enjoyed them all, but those ones drew me in a bit more.
Saying this while it wasn't the best written I'm Voting for 8. Imaging a magi dungeon just appearing in the center of the colosseum just really resonated with me. Would have liked maybe a mini fight scene with the magi fighting potential fighters stealing the show or like a reference to gladiator the film. Either way 8 GETS MY VOTE. "Maximus : [after swiftly dispatching another gladiator Are you not entertained?"
I like the poetic style of justice it feels like it has. Some others were quite good as well 7 and 8 both were quite appealing but in the end 11 felt like my favorite.
Character Sheet Magoi: (550/550) Stamina: (280/280)
I'm voting for 4. I also loved Rikus! Tough call between Rikus and 4 for me. Shout out to number 12 though, that world felt so immersive. There were so many things and places going on.
Character Sheet Magoi: (240/240) Stamina: (590/590)
I am voting for number 4 myself, it was a hard tie between 4, 5 and 12. I loved all of the posts, and more than anything the stories and characters weaved in these small posts. I am so happy with all the submission, i just feel those three are the ones that conveyed the most personality, along with a sense of depth to the world. I wish I could in multiple categories because you all really shined in this competition and I feel your strength doubled.
Character Sheet Magoi: (290/290) Stamina: (395/395)
while I was having a had time deciding between three, seven, one, and six with all their enticing themes I'm placing my vote for number three, all the posts are really great, but I love how three balanced the dungeon, the raising, while also giving us small hints at what the Magi stands for and thinks of other magis. I also like how it seems like he's playing a game, and rather than the other magi's who seem mad I like how it seems like he himself is stuck in a delusion
Character Sheet Magoi: (390/390) Stamina: (390/390)
Oof, I have truly made everyone wait - and I apologise. I was torn between, well, twelve options; they were all amazing I wish I could just ramble about my thoughts on them all, but that would take too much time. I have already spoken to some members about their pieces, and I’d be happy to talk with more!
That being said, drumroll please, I must cast my vote for No. 9! This submission was absolutely gorgeous, with some of the best descriptive writing I have read here. The Magi herself was an interesting idea, though I would love to see where she could go if she became a solid character!
