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The Final Stand of Kauria

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A great cheer rang out as the athletes entered the great arena. The Games of Unity, held every five years in the Kaurian capital of Torpolis, were about to begin. The games and the capital were both symbols of the great peace between the varied races of the forested realm, tech and aesthetics from every corner of the world combining in a manner no individual species could manage alone. The athletes marched alongside those looking vastly different to them. Aquatic Nuseni next to metallic Havren, intimidating Dramora flanked by hulking Nyf, every race was present and accounted for. Overhead, giant, ancient trees provided both participants and onlookers alike with shade from the summer heat of an especially warm day. The stands were awash with vendors from the races selling goods and food, just as often to other species as their own, while spectators cheered on their favorites or simply enjoyed the spectacle. Competition, especially between every one of the diverse races, was guaranteed to draw a crowd and this event was no exception, as the city and enormous stadium practically overflowed with motion and noise.

A hush fell over the crowd as the participants finished entering the arena, facing towards a huge balcony jutting from the stands. The Council of Nine, comprised of one diplomat from each race, stepped forward to give their opening remarks. They spoke of unity, of peace, and of the participants doing their species proud, no matter who won. The crowd roared again as they officially declared the Games of Unity open with one voice, the athletes filing out to train and prepare for the days to come.


Welcome to Kauria! This forested world is currently experiencing a great time of peace and prosperity. Racism is very low, and the various sentient species found here are generally happy with their lives. It's in everyone's best interest to maintain this peace. Many have wondered what could bring an end to it all, as this has been the status quo for generations. What indeed…

Characters starting from the beginning start somewhere in Torpolis. We are openminded as to where you are, but we would ask that if you wish your character to be a competitor in the games you have some reason why they cannot compete. They got injured on the trip into the city, turns out they brought too many people…the events themselves aren't super integral to the plot, and we'd prefer not to get bogged down in that for pages upon pages.

The full rundown of races can be seen here. However, just as a quick guide:

Humans: What you'd expect. Little magic, capable physically.
Stillbloods: Nomadic humans who claim to no longer be fully such. Decent magic, below-average physically.
Kitsune: Humanoid fox shifters. Strong magic, decent unarmed physical attacks, do not use weapons.
Drinden: Dryad appearance. Superb magic, frail physically.
Havren: Spherical people hidden within humanoid armor. Limited magic, capable physically.
Dramora: Semi-demonic humanoids. No magic, fearsome physically.
Shades: Shadowfolk. Decent magic, decent physically.
Nuseni: Semi-aquatic multicolored humanoids. Strong magic, situationally physically capable.
Nyf: Ice yetis. Very little magic, very capable physically.

Character Sheet:

Physical Description:


And now for the rules:

1. Tech level is pre-gunpowder. Some tech can be explained by magic (magitech?), but we’re not going to have guns, electricity, or other later technology (feel free to get creative, if you really want a particular concept, we might be able to work something out via PMs).
2. Be careful with fire. Except for a single plains and mountain area, Kauria is covered in trees. If your character has abilities that cause fire, please don’t cause a big blaze if you can help it. We’ve worked hard on this world, we don’t want to watch it burn.
3. New people are welcome throughout the RP, this should be a fairly open one and having new characters join halfway through shouldn’t be a problem, however we won’t be adding any new races to the RP once it’s started.
4. On a similar note, we’re going to be fairly lenient on death. We’d rather not have people actively trying to be kamikazes, but we’re also not going to be actively trying to kill your characters.
5. Needless to say, the usual Forum and CS rules apply here.
6. Have fun! This is the result of a lot of work from various people across the forums, not just Regal and me, so it would be a shame not to enjoy it.
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Lord Regal

Well-Known Member
Name: Feronia Noir
Age: 17
Gender: Female
Race: Stillblood
Physical Description: Feronia stands at 5'9" when standing erect, which is rare. She has steel gray, shoulder length hair and matching eyes, the uniformity of the color marking her as a Stillblood. Her body is lithe, clearly someone who keeps in shape. Her most striking feature is her mismatched legs, both in length and in makeup. One is quite unremarkable, as far as legs go. The other is a metal leg that is slightly too long. Belief that it's a prosthetic is quickly shattered upon her moving, as it moves the way a normal leg should. However, due to the mismatch in size, she walks with a pronounced limp.
Tools/Abilities: Feronia is a metal manipulator. She's still experimenting with the limits of her power, but is becoming more and more comfortable with it. Her original use of her power remains her favorite though.
Bio: Feronia was born into the major Stillblood camp, the nomadic life treating her relatively well. Due to an accident that she refuses to talk about, she lost her leg about the same time as she gained her powers. It is clear that the incident left her scarred, and her personality became locked behind layers of cynicism, anger, and distrust. This apparently prompted her to run away from home roughly two months before the Games of Unity, and she's been in Torpolis ever since.


"Fricking morons," Feronia grumbled as she limped through the streets, dodging members of all races and keeping an eye out for other Stillbloods. "Can't believe I didn't remember the 'Games of Unity' were this year, gaudy showboating garbage. They weren't even TRYING with that name! I'd've stayed far away from this place if I'd've remembered it was going to be such a hellhole." She either pointedly ignored the stares that came her way, or glared back. She was used to this…her leg drew attention. Didn't help she was wearing pants cut off at the knee, but it was hardly her fault that they stared. Just had to get back to the hotel she'd been staying at since arriving a couple of weeks ago…thankfully the human owner had agreed to let her stay in exchange for helping the kitchens during mealtimes. She had supplies for the next couple of days, and she'd be able to completely ignore the festivities…with any luck, anyway. Who knew though…things tended to go bad, and she was fully expecting her plans to go awry as per usual. For the moment though, she just had to keep getting through this crowd. Someone knocked into her, likely by accident, but that didn't stop her from cursing all the way down to the ground and all the way back up. Mood truly soured by the throngs of people, Feronia continued on her way.
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Name: Katarina Kasai (Kat, Kit)
Age: 17
Gender: Female
Race: Kitsune

Physical Description: Very short red hair, often hidden under a hat of some kind. Stands at 5'8". Green eyes, a pointed face, longer and sharper incisors than normal humans. Slim, wiry build, though the muscles of her arms and legs tend to stand out if anyone gets a good look. Tends to be dressed in fairly shabby, scavenged clothing. Three tails.

Tools/Abilities: Fire manipulation: can conjure, control, and suppress fire and lights (foxfires). Skilled in unarmed combat.

Bio: Raised in a village of Kitsune, Katarina was taught at a fairly early age how to fight without weapons and to control her natural aptitude for fire. A strong willed child, she refused many of her race’s traditions and fought to keep herself independent and free, though she relished in learning combat skills, both magic and mundane. At twelve years old, she ran away from home, trying to find a place where she wouldn’t feel closed in and captured, finding it in Torpolis. Since then she’s been living off the streets, taking what jobs she could to survive, though she considers her life happier now than back in her village.


The crowds were almost indescribable. She wasn't sure if the Games this year were just that much more crowded or if her memories weren't up to the task, but Kat knew for sure that she'd never seen so many people in one place. The variety was even stranger, with so many more Nyf and Dramora, and even a few Drinden and an irate looking Stillblood with a gimped leg walking down the street all at once. A comfortable heat rose up from the crowd to the roof edge where she sat and Kat basked in it like she basked in the sun rays that filtered through the massive branches above, though she should have been sweltering in the summer heat. Fire magic had its uses every once in a while, though it wasn't often worth the trouble. There also wasn't any reason to keep the normal efforts to look human, as nobody ever looked up and nobody would pay attention to a street girl watching from a rooftop, so her tails twined with each other and her ears lay up on top of her head under her hat, twitching at each loud noise from below.

With so many people, all of the stores and businesses in the city were simply overwhelmed and looking for any help they could get, meaning money was easy to find as long as you could work hard and didn't look too grimy. She knew a stall which gave free food to anyone who could help cook it, a hotel down the street that gave away rooms to anyone that could help in their kitchen, and even a Havren who had just measured her all over while she stood still in exchange for the bag of coins which currently allowed her to sit and watch the crowd while munching on an fresh apple. That hadn't been an entirely comfortable experience, but the money was so much more than she'd expected and standing still wasn't hard, especially when it allowed her to buy food instead of steal or scavenge it. And besides, the crowds were fascinating to watch instead of wade through, like a river or a herd of animals. Maybe a herd of animals wasn't too far off, really.

The Stillblood was especially interesting to watch, obviously irritated and stressed and watchful, eyes everywhere but up. Kat wondered if this girl was in trouble with the law or if she was looking for whoever had given her that limp. Hopefully not either, though watching the girl take her temper out on someone would be entertaining enough by itself. Suddenly, the Stillblood ran into someone and went down. Kat ears twitched in anticipation under their covering and she leaned forward to watch the imminent explosion... except the Stillblood just got up and walked onward. "What a turn-off," she muttered under her breath, disappointed in the lack of a fight.
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Name: Drael Va’Naharis
Age: 28
Gender: Male
Race: Dramoran
Tools / Abilities: Drael is an expert swordsman. His main possessions are a Dramoran sword and a Kerah though he also has an assortment of small items such as tinder and flint, a water bottle and a collection of coins.

Description: 6’ 2” in height Drael is an imposing figure with broad shoulders and a muscled physique honed through years of sword craft. Like all from clan Naharis, Drael has anthracite grey skin, shoulder length jet black hair and a pair of small curved horns protruding from his forehead.
When not in his armour, Drael is dressed in loose fitting dark blues robes with a lighter blue tunic over the top with his clans symbol wrought on the breast in gold thread, a yellow sash surrounds his waist and he has a blue head wrap, though doesn’t normally wear it outside of Dramor.
He also wears good quality knee length boots, a gold signet ring along with his ever present sword and Kerah at his waist.

Background: The eldest son of clan Naharis’ chief; Drael has spent much of his life in training his father pushing him to his limits in an attempt to “temper” him into a strong leader for the clan. This tempering has left Drael with a somewhat ruthless outlook which when coupled with his short temper can lead to short and bloody violence if not checked.
He also struggles to interact with anyone on an informal basis with him often resorting to stiff formality when speaking to others. The exception to this rule being his younger sister Draenor who is capable of relaxing around, trusting her implicitly unlike his two younger brother who he fears merely wish to use him to further their own gains or even seize his position for themselves.
Like most Dramoran’s, Drael left his homeland once his formal training had been complete in order to find work as a mercenary amongst the other races of Kauria using as much as a way to learn about them as to hone his skills with a blade yet further. After serving five years in this manner and finding a small amount of fame within semi-legal human fighting pits, Drael returned home to his duties and his sister.
The Games of Unity...what a crock, give him a good old fashioned fighting pit any day of the week! But alas the clan had wanted a representative at the games and more importantly his sister Draenor had wanted to go and so here he was moving through the throng of people that filled the streets of Torpolis; a pair of Dramoran guards escorting their Havren master pausing just long to place a fist against their hearts in salute before once again resuming their duties. It was as he was gazing around in search of where he needed to be that somebody barged into him causing him to stumble into Draenor. Maybe it was the fact that the person hadn’t apologised, or that having so many people so closely packed around had put him in a bad mood or perhaps it was the simple fact that somebody had caused him to nearly knock his younger and far smaller sister to the ground had annoyed him, but either way Drael’s temper exploded.
With the speed of a striking snake Drael spun around and seized the collar of the impudent Stillblood and with a quick twist brought her down onto the ground and placed his booted foot upon her chest; firm enough to pin her in place but not enough to cause any physical damage “you ignorant, insignificant, little whelp! Do you know who I am?” He snarled, baring his sharp pointed teeth and flicking his tail back and forth in anger; his blood red eyes boring into his victims as he continued to snarl in a manner akin to a tiger about to devour its prey “I am Drael Va’ Naharis! Heir apparent to Clan Naharis! You dare barge into us like some common servant without so much as an apology!? Perhaps a few hours with this about your throat will teach you some manners!” he said, reaching for the Kerah coiled about his belted sash.
However no sooner had he touched the strange metallic leash that he felt his sisters restraining hand upon his arm “Drael...remember where you are” the blood red eyes faltered reverting back to their normal kaleidoscope of colours as he heard his sisters softly spoken words and realising the trouble he would cause by placing the leash about someone’s neck “...and besides she’s only a child OH! And look the poor thing has hurt itself!” she continued speaking as if it was a poor little bunny that she’d found rather than a member of a sentient race, though she was quite right, the stillblood was crippled and no honour would be restored by bestowing any form of punishment upon her “oh for the ancestors sake Draenor” Drael groaned quietly at his gushing sister before removing his foot from the girls chest.
Small and slender with the same colour skin and robes as her brother and with long silvery white hair, Draenor was an attractive woman even by the standards of most other races, which considering the general look of a Dramoran which was razor sharp teeth, horns and a tail was quite an achievement. Though their father would have a heart attack if she ever considered a suitor outside of the Dramoran race...assuming of course he simply didn’t kill the suitor in question.
With his temper having abated enough for clear thought to prevail Drael holds out his hand to the prone figure below him “Here, you’d better get up before my sister decides you’re adorable and asks me to keep you” he says in a calmer tone of voice than before and only half joking about his sister wanting to keep her.
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Lord Regal

Well-Known Member
Feronia's day suddenly got a lot worse as someone grabbed her and threw her to the ground, stepping on her to keep her there. "What the hell are you-" she began, only to see it was a Dramora pinning her, and they seemed rather angry. This was confirmed a moment later as the larger being yelled about being an heir to something, and how dare she bump into him without apologizing. "Last I checked you did the same to…" she began in an attempt to cut him off, only to stop as he reached for an item that looked suspiciously like a leash…and one too large for animals. "What…what the hell is that?" she asked, ferocity and uncertainty mixing in her voice.

It was at this point that another Dramora, female, stopped her friend from following through on whatever it was he had been planning. Feronia was about to sarcastically mention that it was nice to only have one savage involved, only to have the words die in her throat as the female Dramora explained that the Stillblood was only a child, and maimed at that. Fury almost made her say something rash, but she had a feeling that she wouldn't be long for the world if she made it a point to alienate the only one helping her at this point, so she settled for, "I wouldn't have been foolish enough to do it to myself…I'm the victim in that case." The venom in her voice at this statement was apparent…clearly she had not gotten over whatever had happened.

Drael, as the male Dramora had self-identified as, helped her to her feet after that, which earned him a grudging nod of thanks. She settled back on her mismatched legs, leaning slightly towards the human one, thanks to the metal one's extra length. "I'm hardly helpless…you caught me by surprise, but if it were an honest match, I'd be able to do something about you…" she continued, refusing to let the comment on her being weak slide. As she spoke, something began to coalesce around her face, eventually forming an extra layer of skin, except it was metal. The eyes were solid, no iris or pupil. "You're intimidating, sure, but if your blows didn't hit me, but rather solid steel, formed and maintained by my power…then we might have a different outcome, yeah?" Her tone was light, but dead serious. She didn't let anyone mess with her, and she sure as hell wasn't going to take it from a self-important swaggercock. "Good thing we don't have a chance to test this, right?" The metal vanished from her face, and she turned to continue walking towards her hotel, fully intending to end on that note.


Name: Jokir Azal
Age: 82
Gender: Male
Race: Shade
Physical Description: Jokir is medium height and of a lithe build. He is fast and agile the body of an acrobat. His clothes are the swirling black shadows that the majority of shades are born with, the only exception being a necklace that is disguised by the wisps of smoke on his skin, save for the white locket that it holds. On his forehead there is a single line of shadows that runs down his forehead and around it the shadows are less dense. This is an occasional deformity as far as Shades are concerned and it is not something that is directly noticeable or that remarkable unless you were to spend a while studying the man, or, alternately, are a Shade.
Tools/Abilities: Like any Shade, Jokir relies on the shadows for his tools. He is a skilled master of Shadow-casting and has developed a unique fighting style over the past eighty years of his life or so.
Description: Jokir rebirthed a long time ago and has spent the majority of his time travelling. He will often help those in need and is a kind and caring soul, though it would not be apparent at first sight. He is quick to rebuff people and it takes a while to earn his trust. Once Jokir believes you to be of good character then he will fight for you loyally as a friend. He has never once spoken about the white locket he wears about his neck and it is his greatest mystery.


Jokir sat on the rooftop and watched the streets below. He was cloaked, more to avoid attention than anything else, and watched as the observers mingled in the street. It was always interesting watching the characters pass by, especially those who were still young in their Cycle... He noticed a slight commotion. A Dramoran and a Stillblood, the Stillblood with a metal leg. Shadows began to unravel themselves from a nearby tree and lazily begin to drift over to him as he prepared to intervene should things take a turn for the worse. Thankfully, another Dramoran, seemingly of importance to the male, intervened and the Stillblood got up, exchanged some heated words and then stormed off. The shadows returned to their rightful place silently and Jokir chuckled to himself. The innocence of youth was always fun to watch. He decided that perhaps this Dramoran warranted further investigation and slowly stood up. He took a slight running jump and did a corkscrew jump onto a nearby tree branch, landing silently before he slowly lowered himself, dropping silently into the streets before he gently shimmered into view, startling a few onlookers. Using his keen perception he spotted the Dramoran and began to listen in on what the man was saying.
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Name: Uwe (uːvə) Lundhof

Age: 23

Gender: Male

Race: human

Physical Description: Uwe stands about six feet two inches (188 cm) and masses in at 5.66 slugs (~82.5kg) slightly skinny. Sandy blonde hair sits atop this man, with a face whose major attributes are its brown eyes and sandy beard. Other than these, Uwe is fairly unremarkable, appearing as a normal human. The only other thing of note is a brown leather jacket that Uwe will wear regardless of what the weather is.

Tools/Abilities: A quick mind and a smooth speech are the major traits of this man. Despite being an accomplished swordsman, Uwe prefers to discuss things out. His major possessions are a horse and cart and a decorated arming sword.

Bio: Uwe was born into a minor noble family, where he was cultured, almost straight from birth, to be a successful estate holder and worthy nobleman. During his 14th year of life, Uwe’s family was defeated not in war, but by noble diplomacy. The strain from having lost nearly everything broke Uwe’s parents to insanity and they were shortly committed to a mental farm. Most of the rest of the household fled to the four corners, the former family merchant remained behind, having saved enough money to open a shop. There, he trained Uwe how to be a successful merchant, in exchange for learning how to fight with a sword. Both sides profited, for the merchant was able to successfully fight off skilled robbers and Uwe was able to become a merchant in his own right. After a few years of the merchant’s tutelage, Uwe left the town and became a traveling merchant.

“Get out of the way! I’ve got food in here! It’ll spoil if you don’t move!” Uwe had been unfortunate. A few days earlier, he had become stuck in a small town due to a sudden heavy downpour. The cart would have been able to make it, had its cargo not been very heavy indeed. Despite the rain and the couple days lost because of it, Uwe was able to make some (hopefully) lucrative trades; exchanging some extra cargo for a local delicacy that was sure hit it off with the people visiting Torpolis for the Unity Games. Last time they happened, Uwe had been a very inexperienced traveling merchant, but had managed to pull a nice profit that allowed him to acquire a cart and horse. From there, his profits had steadily increased to the point where it was impracticable to keep all his monetary possessions with him.

Uwe’s destination was right down the street. He could barely see it, but there it was. It was a shop called Wolsingtons that operated an extra stall during holidays. The Unity Games, however, warranted two stalls and Uwe was lucky enough to land one of the lucrative contracts to supply one of those stalls. If things went as well as they had been, sans the rain a few days ago, Uwe would be able to get a larger cart and another horse. Not only would cargo capacity be increased, but so would his range. Uwe could hit up new towns and maybe eventually establish one of those global companies that were the envy of every merchantman in Kauria. But first, Uwe had to get to Wolsingtons. “Clear the road! Let me get through!” The crowd density was too high, however, and Uwe’s cart was making less progress than a frozen creek.


Fresh food was always such a luxury. Fruit especially, though thanks to the gardens and magic of the Drinden, even out-of-season food wasn't especially rare. For a street girl like Kat though, the apple she continue to crunch into was a delicious reminder of the fortune that these games brought to anyone able to take advantage of the crowds and rush. Though most thieves and other unsavory types knew to keep their heads down around now since the city guard went on high alert during this period. But even if the streets were mayhem, few strangers ventured onto the rooftops, which made them oases of peace in the summer press and heat. It was nice, really. Almost as nice as the beautifully unfurling conflict before her.

She'd been hoping that the Stillblood would start up the music, but the Dramora she'd run into filled in for her nicely when she missed her cue. He reached for some kind of weapon... and Kat dropped the rest of her apple in surprise as she saw what it was and felt her skin flush. He wasn't reaching for the sword at his waist, he was reaching for a... leash... something for holding people rather than animals. She'd heard that Dramoran carried leashes like that, but this was the first time she'd seen such a barbaric tool herself. Now as relations were patched up by the female Dramoran who'd been next to the trouble starter, Kat was disappointed in a different way than before. She would have loved to have joined in on that fight. Still, the Stillblood looked like she might end up walking away after all. She was paying so much attention to the potential fight that she almost missed the sight of a Shade popping out of nowhere, heading for the conflict as if he were preparing to help, though which side she wasn't sure. Shades had always fascinated her, so she watched this one with interest. If the Stillblood and Dramoran were done, he'd wander off and she'd get to watch him go. If they fought, she'd get to watch him do something. Win win situation.


"Your clumsiness is none of my concern and if your manners and lack of respect are anything like you showed to me then I am not surprised that someone maimed you" Drael growled in response to the girls own venomous response towards his sisters concern for her injury Ungrateful child! I should leash her and to hell with the consequences! But his sister was right, if he leashed her here in public then the guards would get involved and from that point onwards the likelihood of a fight erupting was far too great. It wasn’t that he was afraid of losing such an encounter but more the opposite and he had no desire to explain to his father why such a slaughter had occurred.
It was as he was mulling over the consequences of such a foolish action that the girl made her claims of being able even the odds against him causing an amused expression to appear on his face. It was just as he was about to point out that the only way that she would be able to be his equal was if she was to suddenly become a Dramoran herself that she formed some kind of armoured skin about herself "Yes...you are quite right, it is just as well we'll never find out the result of such an encounter" he replied, the amused expression never leaving his face "Now if you will excuse me, my sister and I have an appointment at the games" with his farewell said the three of them went their separate ways "oh Drael that poor thing...doesn't she know Dramoran blades can cut through steel?"
"No Draenor she does not...and if she's lucky she will never have to find out" he replied passing close by an oak tree in order to side step a Nyf. For half an instant he thought he saw something out of the corner of his eye but when he turned to look found nothing but leaves Damn crowds are sending me paranoid I can't wait until this whole charade is over with and I can return home!


Jokir snorted to himself as the Dramoran spoke to his sister. All three... so young in their cycles and yet so bold. He had not been like that back then but there had been reasons in that instance... He felt a slight something and began to realise that he was not the only one watching the party. He began to worm his way through the crowd, using chances of slipping through to covertly scan the area until he sighted his quarry. It was a she and she was a Kitsune... She was sitting up in a tree and appeared to be watching the ongoings with some interest. Bored... or a third party? Deciding that the Dramoran would yield not much of interest and that he would also be easy to pick up the trail of later on, the shade slowly shimmered out of view before lithely jumping up into a tree. He pulled himself up and then smiled, vanishing round to the other side of the long line that overshadowed the street, he steadily made his way along and arrived the opposite side of the tree to the Kitsune. Gently swinging himself around, he silently landed on the branch next to her, fading into sight as he did so, though the lowering of the branch at his weight would have informed her of his presence anyway. "It's a nice day for it, is it not?" He stated calmly, speaking softly to the girl with a friendly voice, "So, why were you gazing upon the trio down there? Are they of your Cycle? Or is your Cycle unravelled and are you looking for the threads to tie it back into meaning again?"

Lord Regal

Well-Known Member
Feronia was infuriated by her encounter with Drael. How dare that Dramoran do that to me? I should have taught him a lesson…even if it meant that the guards locked me up for a bit…I don't care, anything to get that smirk off his f- She was rudely interrupted by this train of thought by limping directly into a horse. "What the hell?!?" the Stillblood yelled in exasperation. Looking up, she saw a cart attached to the horse, and a human directing both. "What the hell are you doing?" she raged, pointing up at the human indignantly. "Why, under any circumstances, would you think trying to get that damn thing down the middle of the road in the middle of the day during the Games was a good idea? What the hell is WRONG with you?? Gods DAMN you all are pissing me off today!" She'd barely taken two dozen steps since the Dramoran, how could one person have such bad luck?? The world was seriously conspiring against her today. She continued to stand in front of the cart defiantly, arms crossed, slightly tilted to one side as always because of her leg, waiting for an answer.


As Kat watched the Shade move through the crowd like wind through a thicket of brambles, she frowned as he took a different route than she was anticipating. Risking losing him in the crowd, she looked over towards where the conflict between the Stillblood girl and the Dramoran had been brewing wonderfully. Instead of a space in the crowd made from people trying to escape from a brawl, there was only the normal rush of people, though the girl was heading towards a cart loaded with... were those cabbages? It had been forever since she'd had a cabbage, they wouldn't grow near Toropolis. In fact, they wouldn't grow most places, they needed too much sunlight. How could some merchant too thick to realize how crowded the streets would be around this time of day have had the money and knowledge to buy a load of cabbages?

She realized that she'd been distracted too long and scanned the crowd again to try to find the Shade again, though to no avail. Meh, with the Games in progress, this probably wasn't the last she'd seen of him. It was then that she heard branches creaking as if someone were climbing around her. She'd moved to the tree from the roof in order to better see the oncoming fight without being quite as obvious, not to be disturbed by some kid climbing her tree for fun. However, looking down and around showed her nobody. It was as if the wind were blowing through her tree, though today had had practically none to speak of and she didn't feel moving air... Kat's questions were answered by the branch she was on flexing to accommodate the weight of another person and the sudden appearance of the Shade she'd been watching next to her.

Jumping back in surprise hissing, "Sparks and blaze!" she grabbed a branch above her and swung herself up on to it, keeping an eye on the Shade. She should have guessed that he'd seen her and started moving towards her from the start, but she'd been too distracted by a cart of freaking cabbages to pay attention. Her tails were out too, making it obvious she was a Kitsune, though she figured with this one it probably wasn't a big deal, not to mention it was far too late to hide it. Would've served her right if he'd done something to her instead of just appearing and saying something. Speaking of which... "I missed whatever you said, I get a little distracted when someone pops out of nowhere next to me. What do you want with me?" Her tone was gruff, but not entirely unfriendly. Shades were a rarity to run into and it would be nice to talk with one, though Kat wasn't entirely happy with him having startled her.


Name: Ashur Enmerkar
Age: 20
Gender: Male
Race: Havren
Bio: Ashur was born into house Enmerkar, the Aristocrat house holding trade hegemony over the Drinden nation and the only house given the secrets to forming Living crystal from the Havren council. Due to the these special considerations House Enmerkar is at odds with more powerful houses who aim to usurp House Enmerkar's hold over Drinden goods. As an Aristocrat Ashur has been taught the ways of trade, espionage, and combat as well as how to manipulate Living Crystal. As a junior member of house Enmerkar Ashur is often sent on diplomatic missions, protecting Drinden nobility as well as Trade mission protecting their convoys and bartering with the Havren nobles for favors, money and craftsmen.

Physical Description: Standing at exactly six feet in green tinged living crystal armor. Ashur looks exactly like what you would imagine a Drinden would look in the event they wore Full-plate including how the armor is engraved to look like the wood of an old tree. The primary indication that it doesn't belong to a Drinden are the thicker arms, Shoulder pauldrins and the symbol of house Enmerkar, the Crystal spire, the tower at the center of their main outpost near the Drinden capital.

Tools/Abilities: Living Crystal Archery reinforced armor, Havren long bow, Quiver of steel arrows, long war hammer, Havren nonlethal Unarmed combat (AKA bone breaker)

Ashur sat indifferent to the spectacle of the Games of Unity. It held no value to it these events seemed to be more of an insane quirk of the other races than a festival. The idea that they would be interested in swamping one location with so many people that security would be assuredly compromised and be perfectly happy seemed a bizarre concept. But regardless as a member of House Enmerkar Ashur had been ordered to attend the event with some of the Drinden royalty. And to remove even the little bit of enjoyment that would be brought by an assassination attempt or attack, the Royal guard had been brought to secure their seating area.


Well-Known Member
Name: Tekki Endersé
Age: 30
Gender: Female
Race: Nuseni
Physical Description: Being from the aquatic realm, Tekki is not unusual in that the entirety of her body is extremely water-oriented. Her skin tone is interesting in colour in that it could be described as being a combination of both pale red and turquoise, the two colours mixing in random patterns down the length of her skin, including on the membrane which develops between her legs to allow her to swim efficiently. However, her face primarily retains the red colour, and it is here the red is at its faintest. Tekki lacks any form of hair and disguises this as much as possible by donning a strange fashion garment known as a ‘harf’, which wraps around her head in a way not too dissimilar to a turban, although it is formed by a more delicate material than that used to create a turban. Tekki stands at around 5’3” and has angled cheekbones.
Her adornment is of the usual Nuseni type – a form of clothing akin to a wetsuit, created via a special technique unique to the Nuseni civilisation. This covers her entire body, including her arms and legs, however her hands, feet, neck and head are left exposed to the open air. When on land, Tekki prefers to walk barefooted. Her eyes are solid black, although her eyelashes, the only hair on any part of her body, are of a crimson shade of red which can capture the eye of anyone looking at her face.

Tools/Abilities: Tekki carries a crafted staff, engraved with symbols symbolising the agua-related magic which she is highly proficient in. The staff contrasts with her body in that it is primarily silver in colour, although a small coral decoration atop the staff is mostly a lively blue. The staff is used mainly for water –magic purposes, specifically the manipulation and movement of the element, although Tekki is capable of defending herself with it for a short time. Otherwise, she is relatively poor at swordplay.
Bio: Having grown up in one of the larger settlements of the underwater Nuseni world, Tekki was bound for great things from the moment of her birth. Born into a relatively wealthy family, Tekki had no issues in finding a path through life’s currents. Though she had no siblings, Tekki did not have much opportunity to feel lonely due to the close proximity in which the Nuseni live. Her parents, and her mother especially, were often absent during her childhood, so she often found herself having to live temporarily with friends of the family.

At around the age of ten, it was recognised that Tekki showed great potential to become one of the more powerful agua-eleré (water magic) in the Nuseni kingdom. To this effect, she found herself being taken into one of the more prominent agua-eleré academies in her home city. Control over the arts of water moving and manipulation became her specialities, and in these two fields she particularly excelled throughout her time at the academy. She also developed an interest in the studies of aquatic wildlife, and it is this that she went on to study after graduating from the agua-eleré academy. At the age of twenty-five, Tekki was asked to join the agua-eleré council of the Nuseni people as the aquatic biodiversity advisor. The council, as the name implies, is restricted to magic users, and acts as a secondary authority in the kingdom, having been gifted particular powers by the ruler of the Nuseni to carry out many of the affairs of the waters (Couldn’t say ‘land’, could I?) without needing to seek prior consent. It is in this position that she has remained for the five years following her selection.


(Just a quick note, I am not starting in the same street as the rest of you.)

Tekki gazed curiously at the strange sculpture which lay before her on the wooden surface. She had, for the past fifteen or so minutes, been trying to decipher what it was exactly that the sculpture was supposed to represent. She had come to three conclusions thus far, none of which seemed to give justice to the piece of art lying before her. In her eyes, it was either supposed to represent a twisted and winding strip of algae, a severely mutated fish or a growth of coral. However, neither of these conclusions felt to her as if they truly represented the work before her. Made by the Drinden whose stall she was currently stood under the welcome sunshade of, Tekki had originally used the shop as an excuse to escape the crowds, and more importantly, the extreme sunlight which had been shining its way through the clouds since it had first risen. However, upon entering, she had discovered that this Drinden, ‘Hafren’, had been making sculptures based on his take on the underwater world which the Nuseni occupied for many decades. Always intrigued by things which had been created to represent something from the waters which she called ‘home’, she had taken a vested interest in Hafren’s collection, which he had brought along with him especially for the Games, here in Torpolis.

The Games themselves, Tekki held a limited interest in, but the merging of so many different cultures from all corners of Kauria into one city was what had brought her to the place. Having obtained special permission to travel to Torpolis from the agua-eleré council, Tekki had been charged with the duty of assessing the interrelationships between the many different races which came to the city both to compete and to observe, and also to observe whether the Nuseni were making a fair contribution to the total attendance at the Games. She had yet to dedicate time to either task as of yet, however, as since her arrival in the early morning, she had spent the large portion of the day trying to find some form of suitable lodgings for herself, a task that she had yet to accomplish, as many of the inns and taverns around Torpolis were already filled to the brim. She had travelled alone, not wishing to attract unwanted attention to herself on account of her prominent position among the magic-users of the Nuseni.
After taking one last long look at the sculpture, she turned back to Hafren. She had not wanted to appear rude by asking about it, but it seemed that observation alone wasn’t going to help her. She had been staring at the thing for a whole fifteen minutes, after all... Putting on her best smile, she addressed the shop-owner politely, “I looked, I looked and I looked, and as well-acquainted I am with the intricacies of my own realm, I cannot for the life of me determine what that sculpture is supposed to be...” She gestured at the object with her left hand. “Would you be able to enlighten me?” Tekki took a sharp intake of breath, before adding in a cheerful voice, “Oh, and while we’re at it, would you happen to have any idea where I can find some lodgings that aren’t packed to the roof with customers? I’m desperately in need of somewhere to stay.” Hopefully, the shop-owner would be able to give her some advice. She had happily slept on the ground on the way to Torpolis, but she had hoped to avoid having to do that again once she had arrived...
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In about 10 minutes, Uwe had made about 5 feet of progress. At this rate, he wouldn’t get to Wolsingtons until well after dark, and that wouldn’t do at all. He could see his perishables turning to rot before his very eyes under the scorching sun. Of course, he knew that they wouldn’t spoil that quickly, but the mind had a strange way of playing tricks like that on their person. After having made another 5 or so feet (a miraculous feat in this traffic), Uwe’s horse, Jackson Sky, was nearly ploughed over by a woman wearing a prosthetic leg. At first, he thought she was a human like him, but after a brief examination, Uwe found that she was in fact a Stillblood; the monochromatic hair and eye schemes giving that away. Her words also gave away that she was a fairly bitter person; she stood as a boulder in the road, blocking Uwe’s progress. At first, he was going to attempt to argue his way through, but he had a better idea. “You look like a capable person,” Uwe spoke, while reaching into his pocket. “You help me get to Wolsingtons and this is yours.” Uwe pulled out a silver coin and let the sun bring out its lustre. “I get there in 10 minutes, and I’ll give you double. Help me find lodgings for me and my horse here, and I’ll pay you yet another.” Uwe put on his best smile as he held out the coin towards the less than pleasant Stillblood.


Jokir chuckled at the reaction of the girl as she scrambled away from him, though it appeared that in her haste she had decided to ignore his words. Not entirely surprising as far as he was concerned, those with many years left in their cycle could always take the time to rush on through and stop and observe the damage later. He chuckled even more at the ferocity of the girl as she questioned... nay demanded of him what he was doing here. "You are a fierce one for a three tales. Now then, three tales, would you care to stop hanging from the branch and to join me? It has been a while since I spoke with another and if you're sitting up in a tree watching a fight about to occur with such ferocity and, not to mention, interested in myself then it would probably be an experience to share a part of the Cycle with you." The Shade patted the section of branch next to him and then scanned the crowd again, quickly spotting the Dramora. "Now then, would you like to continue watching the Cycle unfold or would you rather tire out your arms up there?" The girl could respond in all manner of ways, Jokir spoke not to provoke outright but to test. Who was this three-tails, why was she here? How would she respond to one like him? The curiosity of those in their Cycle stirred in him and, for the first time in a while, he decided he might want to get to know this person. His Cycle had been singular for the past seven or eight years now ever since he had parted ways with Denest. He wondered where the boy might be now... Jokir had missed his company at first but had grown used to the solitude. Shades' Cycles can be lived out alone or together and opportunities missed in one Cycle can be fulfilled in the next. Jokir thought that alone would be the life for him but he reached up and touched the white locket, remembering that being alone was not always the best of options.



Kat frowned at the Shade. It was clear he didn't mean her any harm, he really just wanted to talk. Strange enough, but of course the Games always attracted a crowd. A few nuts in the mix were par for the course. Following his advice, though she was tempted to just lift herself up to her branch just to spite him, Kat swung herself back onto the branch and sat up against the tree's bark. No point in taking any chances, even a nut who didn't intend to hurt her could still manage to do so. "You must never have spent much time around Kitsune," she began, closing her eyes to concentrate on shifting back toward human. "It's rude to refer to someone by the number of tails they have, you know. Though I don't especially care. On top of that, tails have nothing to do with temperament. If I had ten tails and a hundred years on me, I'd still be the same. One of Old Sleepybones' helpers up at the stadium has six, and his personality resembles a cactus enough to move crowds by glaring at them. I've known kids with one who were the same." Her transformation finished, Kat opened her eyes and adjusted her hat to be more comfortable on human ears. Her skirt didn't need straightening by this point though, it was getting ragged enough that she probably needed to find a new one.

"And if you're asking about the fight," she continued as if nothing had happened, then shrugged. "I was bored. It's nice to watch someone else draw the attention of the law for a change." She considered asking what the Shade meant about "Cycles" and all that, but if he wasn't going to be courteous about her race and customs, she wasn't going to go around asking questions of his. Besides, who knew if he'd even tell the truth? Nobody knew much about Shades, which made for pretty good odds that they were pretty good liars.


Hafren was starting to get nervous. He had never been a very good artist, but with the sea that was his inspiration being so far away from Toropolis, very few people knew enough to see that and his pieces sold well. He'd even been able to afford a stall for the games, with the potential to sell more of his works than ever before. And then this Nuseni had come walking up and stared at his wares for fifteen minutes. She had to have been well aware that the quality was not good enough to represent her home, even symbolically, and he'd been prepared for a verbal lashing. He'd really have preferred the lashing to this ever heavier silence. Finally, she spoke, asking him politely what a sculpture was supposed to be. He opened his mouth to tell her about the beautiful shark that had swam by him one day when she abruptly asked about lodgings. Seizing his chance, Hafren stammered out, "Yes, yes, lodgings! There are a couple places around the city that'll give you rooms if you can work there since they're having a shortage of workers and one of them's a few streets over, look for a sign with a moon and a sun on it and tell the owner you're willing to work for lodgings but you'll have to head over quick because they might already be filled up, so go and find out!" He knew he sounded ridiculous, his voice even cracking as he gasped out the end of his sentence, but hopefully the scary Nuseni lady would accept the advice and leave his stall. Anything to get her away.
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Lord Regal

Well-Known Member
Feronia could only stare at the human atop the cart in a mixture of anger and disbelief as he offered to pay her, if she helped him reach his destination in short order, and moreso if she also helped him find a place to sleep. Who did this moron think he…well, if she was perfectly honest, three silver coins would be enough to pay for groceries the next time she went shopping…and to be fair, she was being a bit unreasonable…unlike the Dramoran, this guy hadn't technically done anything wrong, she'd simply been in a sour mood already. "…I can help, yeah," she replied in a much more neutral tone than she had before. "Keep the money until we've finished things up, ok? Wouldn't feel right taking it in advance. Oh, and I hope your horse isn't skittish…you want me to clear a path, I'm doing it as efficiently as I can."

Her piece said, she turned around to face the crowd. She needed to appear more dangerous than a cart, and that was something she knew exactly how to do. Focusing her power, metal erupted into being around her body, rapidly concealing her form. It began creating a bipedal, yet clearly inhuman shape, larger than Feronia herself was, but hardly gigantic. The steel in front of her head elongated, her legs became even, and her arms seemed to extend towards the ground. In a matter of fifteen or so seconds, she had transformed herself into a slightly-larger-than-human sized metal bird. Encased within the armor, Feronia yelled at the crowd, slits around the suit designed to release noise once it had been suitably amplified by the hollow interior. "If you don't want me to run you over, move to the side! This man's got food items spoiling because you imbeciles won't let him through. MOVE!" She began to stalk forward purposefully, even length bird legs and feet clanking on the cobblestones. This had the desired effect of scattering those in front of her, and she could only hope that the human behind her wasn't enough of a slackjawed idiot to recognize he had to follow close behind. She knew the place he wanted to go, they'd easily make it in a couple of minutes at this pace.



Srilm, the Drinden Head Matriarch, Lady of her entire nation, turned her head to look at the Havren who had accompanied them as an ambassador, seated a couple people away from her. She couldn't help but feel this was an unnecessary gesture on their part…the Games of Unity were…well, about the races being unified…surely that was enough to confirm the races were in good standing with one another? Ah well, such was politics, and it wasn't an unpleasant thing either, so there was really no reason to complain. However, the young Havren looked restless, as if he wished for something more exciting to happen. "Ashur, you should be happy things are so mundane," she admonished gently, attempting to educate her charge. "It may seem dull, but would you really prefer for there to be the literally and metaphorically world destroying war that would be present if we weren't so concerned with keeping the peace? No, rejoice it's so calm, even in such a crowd, and that races accommodate each other," here she rubbed the stone seats that had been magically carved for her race, so they were able to be present for the festivities. "…this world is paradise, and we should not wish for that to change." With this said, Srilm turned to watch the continued festivities that accompanied opening day, content that all was truly well with the world, and her people were happy.


Drael moved with a graceful ease as he threaded his way through the crowd; the majority of people doing their best not to jostle the large Dramoran and his sister showing that there was some advantage to having such a fearsome appearance.
The arena loomed up ahead of them; towering over all of the other buildings like a colossus made of wood and stone. There was nothing of that size back home in Dramor, not even the Clan castles could match its scale and grandeur with the banners of a thousand nations fluttering about its perimeter; a touch of pride touching Drael’s heart as he caught sight of the blue banner of clan Naharis hanging side by side with the other great nations of Kauria.
The Dramoran’s had been the last Race to be invited to attend the Games of Unity, a combination of prideful arrogance on the part of the Dramoran’s and long and bitter memories on the part of the other races having prevented them from joining earlier. Even to this day the first ever games that the Dramoran’s attended were still talked about despite it having happened so long ago.
There had only been two Dramoran athletes entered that year one for the marathon and one unsurprisingly for the sword event which up until the Dramoran’s arrival had been dominated by the human nobility. The first bout had lasted for all of thirty seconds and had ended with the decapitation of the human contender and the disqualification and arrest of the Dramoran contender.
It took another three years of political strife before the misunderstanding which had led to incident was rectified and the Dramoran’s were once again permitted to compete with the introduction of the somewhat less lethal sport of Kendo to the games. Incidentally the Dramoran marathon runner came third in his race though sadly this achievement is often forgotten in light of other events that year.
Upon finally reaching the arena; Drael doing his best to ignore the commotion going on behind him, the pair of siblings ascended a set of stone stairs to the private box that the clan had provided them with. The small seated area adjacent to that of the Drinden was furnished with seating more comfortable to those possessing tails and with a good view of the events in which the varying clans were proficient in. With Draenor already practically bursting at the seams with excitement Drael signalled one of arena staff that he wanted a drink before then making himself comfortable for what he feared would be a very long day.
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Jokir continued to laugh at the reaction of the girl. As she became irritated with him, she did join him on the branch, placing herself solidly against the trunk of the tree. In response to her comment about rudeness, he responded "and is it not rude to not introduce yourself to one further into your cycle, young Kitsune? This is a right I have earned." The shadows of the tree quivered for a second and then darted into his hand, molding to form a dagger as new shadows grew to replace the small section that he had taken. He flipped the dagger and inspected it in his hand before throwing it up into the air and watching it dissipate. He enjoyed doing things like that and it helped work as a form of stamina training as well. The more he used the shadows, the more of a friend they were to him. He studied her keenly as she spoke, seeing the flickers of an emotion in her eyes. "You feel something... curiosity? anger? I hear distrust in your voice. Just as you have your issues with the law you have your issues with me. Am I the first... shade" Jokir paused as he mentally corrected himself from using the language of darkness' term for his race, instead using the common tongue. "to have entered your Cycle? If so, ask your questions. You appear to have nothing else to do and my Cycle still has enough days in it."