A New Era, An Old Vengeance [M/F x M/F] [Fantasy]

[WhichBard]

Hello,

Been tied up with a lot of stuff in life for awhile, so it's nice to be back on Elliquiy. Posting and collaborating on E is going to go hand-in-hand with my writing more in general. I dabble in a lot of different forms of fiction on my own time, but when I roleplay and make stories with others I focus on character-driven plots in the Sci-Fi and Fantasy genres. Look down below in the Spoiler for a recent (rough-draft) example of my writing. It obviously needs some work, but I'm kinda proud of it. Check out my Ons/Offs if the idea seems neat to you. I can play either side of a MxF pairing, or run an ensemble of characters. PM me if you're interested in pursuing a story.

A New Era, An Old Vengeance

A thousand years ago, a sorcerer led an expedition that ended up unleashing a terrible goddess. She sealed him into her old prison, conquered the world, and released her sisters. She created prophecies and told the world that should the sorcerer ever return he would shatter the world, and try to slay their protector - her - in his genocidal conquest. Now, an expedition without true knowledge of his nature has awoken him accidentally. His world was taken from him, and he sets out to free this new one.

Initial thoughts on the plot

• First, I like the idea that the new 'empire' that the goddess created has regressed in its magical knowledge as she hordes power for herself and her immediate cadre of sisters/trusted servants. The Sorcerer, now re-awoken, will have a lot more magical knowledge even if he wasn't technically the most powerful sorcerer before. Think of the Forsaken from Wheel of Time - technically, they ran the whole range in power, but they overpowered magic users in the new era they found themselves in simply because they were far better trained and educated.
• Second, I feel like this idea may lend itself pretty well to some cool magical fights. Optionally, I already have an idea for how magic might work, and putting "objective" numbers to power, but allowing room for ingenuity/skill. Basically: each spell is a spirit, and your power is measured by how many spirits you can keep ahold of at once. If you run out of space to hold spirits, you have to release a spirit to pick up a new one... a new one you'd have to find. Pretty simple, helps to set some stakes.
• Third, I'm willing to hear out a lot of ideas to build upon or tweak on the core. The basic premise is what I find compelling.

If you're interested in a rough draft of some recent writing I did for myself, look to the spoiler below. It's a more current example of my skill before revising something, and probably more accurate to how I'll write in a roleplay nowadays.

Finally, if you think of another idea I might be a good fit for with you, don't be afraid to pitch it to me over PM.

Scene I've Been Working On Recently

"You're Emilian, right?" Instead of answering, Emilian leaned backward in his chair as he downed the rest of his beer. Amber rivulets streaked over his cheeks and short brown beard before dripping to the wood floor and then onto the table as he righted himself. He locked his green eyes with the man who had asked and nodded. "Yeah, I'm Emilian. Who are you?"

The man smiled and held out a hand to shake. "I'm Alric Blackson, founder of the Blackson Company." His voice was low, rumbling with the edge of a growl. Emilian shook with the man, surprised at how easily Alric's hand wrapped around his. It was like a child shaking hands with an adult, and thankfully Alric was just as gentle to Emilian. The man's enormous size didn't stop at his hands - he was wide and tall, with a round belly that filled out an overly-large coat. Underneath the man's other arm, he squashed a hat in his armpit.

"I've heard of it. What do you want with me, Mr. Blackson?"

"Call me Alric. I've been trying to get ahold of you for two weeks now, and an acquaintance of yours said you came here often."

"Looking for me?" He repeated back flatly.

"Yes." The older man sat himself down across from Emilian and waved at the waitress, struggling to be seen over the heads of the next table. "I've, uh... Ah! Yes, over here!" The waitress had finally noticed him from across the tavern. "I've been wanting to offer you a contract I think you'll be interested in," he rumbled on.

"I remember seeing your letters, Mr. Blackson-"

"Alric."

"-Mr. Alric. I'm not interested." Two letters a day, delivered by a well-paid urchin bouncing in excitement, all passed directly into his hands for a fortnight. Emilian looked away from the other man before his irritation showed, letting his eyes wander the room.

The tavern was filled enough to burst. Every table was seated on the first floor, and when he looked up to the balcony looming over the edges of the room he saw each table filled there too. The tavern was a mixed crowd that minded its own business. Farmers, merchants, Justice Scribes celebrating in one corner after their long day in the courts, and even a couple of soldiers. A familiar one in a bright blue brigandine waved at him from there when her eyes with his, and Emilian scowled.

"Not interested? But you haven't even heard what I want you to do!"

Emilian turned his scowl to Alric. "Your company hires magical specialists like me to help defend your digsites, right? I'm not interested. I don't do that kind of work."

"You should listen to the man, Weaver. Why are you being so rude?" A woman in a dark blue cloak walked up from his left, setting a gentle hand on his shoulder and failed to suppress a small smile as she saw his expression.

"Ah, Victoria! You made it. You brought the waitress with you too." Alric gestured to the waitress to have her lean in.

Scraping it across the floorboards, a young woman decorated in lace and blue ribbons maneuvered a chair into position on Emilian's right. "Yeah, Weaver, trust me it'll be good for you." Controlling her skirt with one hand the woman flopped down into the chair.

"Catherine completes my favorite trio. Wonderful."

Alric looked back from his exchange with the waitress. "Ladies, Emilian, anything to eat or drink? My treat."

Victoria and Catherine looked expectantly to Emilian. "Beer for me," he sighed.

"So you'll listen to him?"

"Yeah -- and why is Joan up there?" He looked up at the woman in the blue brigandine above. She waved again and Emilian waved back.

"Too nervous I think," Catherine mused.

"Nervous about what?"

"I'm glad you've come aboard Emilian. It means the world, truly." Alric turned back to the table before an answer could be given, waving off the waitress.

"I haven't agreed to anything yet. Tell me about the job."

"Of course!" The table shook as Alric leaned forward, anchoring himself onto the table with his elbows. "I've come to understand you're quite familiar with shrines to the Goddesses."

At Emilian's nod, he proceeded. "There is one, some few days to the east. Untouched! Never opened, but on all of the maps. 'How could this be?' I wondered when I heard of it from my surveyors. So I got myself a map and found out why: it's deep in the woods, possibly beyond the border, and shadowed by Tirsi's Spear. You can see it day's ride out, but the wilderness around the Spear -"

"Messes with your sense of direction. Your compass is useless, the fauna and spirits are generally angry, and there's no human living there for miles," Victoria said.

"Exactly! So we needed someone who had been there before, someone who didn't need a compass or a map to sort their way through. Ideally, someone who could defend themselves too. That's why I hired the Allon sisters," Alric said gesturing to Victoria and Catherine. "But they had never been to a shrine! Didn't know the dangers, didn't even know how to get in -- after all, if no one has ever been inside, the door could be locked! These girls' spells alone may not be enough."

"That's why we recommended 'Emilian Weaver', the reluctant explorer and survivor of the another Shrine. The bitch's sisters may still be walking around on their side of the mountains, but this second Shrine was still around to stumble into," Catherine explained as she slid Emilian's stein of beer toward herself. He caught its handle in one hand, stopping her short.

"So you want me because maybe I can get you into the shrine?"

"I know you can." Alric gave a self-assured nod. "And so I'm willing to offer you twenty thousand, with five up front." When his grip loosened, Catherine pulled the beer stein out of Emilian's grasp. In a flash, she had downed what was left.

"That's a lot of coin for getting into a Shrine."

"I know this one is worth the price. You are worth the price."

"Emilian, you've been inside a Shrine to Layra before. You'll be able to get us in, and better yet you know what to expect. Layra made traps and defenses for all of her sister's shrines, and then made her own," Victoria said. "It would be difficult to trust anyone else with this."

Emilian took back the empty stein when Catherine set it back down within reach, and looked down into its bottom where flecks of foam and drops of ale still lingered. "I'll be more trouble than I'm worth, if it's half as dangerous as I suspect. I can't hold onto spells like I used to." Emilian didn't need to look up to see the winces on Catherine and Victoria's faces. They had been there when it happened, and he had lost control, and he had made the decision to retire to a backwater where no one would bother him beyond needing the odd magical job done - like mending pots, blessing farm animals and the like.

"The Sisters told me about that. Unfortunate, truly, but I only need you to get into the shrine. The Sisters will take care of our defense. At worst, you can focus on keeping yourself alive, and I understand you are quite skilled even with your... injury," Alric said.

"With twenty thousand coin marks, you could disappear for real. Cross the continent - or, hell, the mountains, if the whim possessed you. Your injury would let you keep low enough," Victoria said.

"I appreciate your faith in me Victoria, and the offer Mr. Alric -- but I'm still not interested."

Emilian began to stand, but Victoria put her hands on his shoulders and forced him back down into the seat. Catherine's mischievous expression disappeared as she half-rose from her seat and pointed an accusing finger at him. "You're being a fool. Take the money, and take us to the stupid shrine. We're doing you a favor, Emilian!"

He looked up to the balcony above, where Joan still stood. She locked her eyes with his green eyes, and nodded earnestly.

"Fine. Fine!" He slapped the table with both hands and forced himself to stand up, overpowering Victoria's brief resistance. "Five thousand up front. I take you there, get you in, and sort out the traps. You pay me the remaining fifteen after. Nothing else."

"Nothing else," Alric Blackson agreed.