[Location] Vertex - Entrance to Har'oloth

[Verus]

TS: Fist Cycle, Eighth Brightening of Kalendryas. Era XIV PF.

Haroloth. A place from what Temujin had heard, he would not like. Feth, he didn't much like Vortex either. But he was here for a purpose, and he wasn't about to leave because the place repulsed him. There was too much... evil in this city. But the rhagrhnd was about to remedy some of this evil. He had heard about a Bounty Office in Harolth, and that was the sole purpose of going there this brightening.

After asking a fair number of folk how to get to Haroloth, one had finally told him and now he stood among the mass of people. He had had a passing thought about using the lift to enter Harolth, but in the end had decided to join the crowd that were sowly journeying downwards on their own two feet.

[Valanthia L'Evienne]

TS: Early Ponutus, Spring Era XIV PF

The Vertex, Val noted with some interest, was very different from the entrance to Herozzal. It was out in the open, a fact which fascinated her.

The stairs fascinated her too. Which was a good thing, since she didn't have any funds to devote to using the lift. She'd be able to indulge her fascination all the way down.

She didn't pause any longer. Her curiosity was up, but there was work to be done. She could wait to look around.

[Lesh y Cheayn]

Following on from her entrance to the city, first cycle of the first month of spring.

She had been stared at by the majority of the city, the Mer simply baring her teeth as she wound her way through the streets. She had followed a small troop of people, which now acted as her guide, to another gate. Curious as ever, she slowly padded in, desperately needing to soak.

[Dimnersti]

27th Cryxatum, Summer Era II of the Celestine Mandate, Era XIV Post Fractum.

Upon entering vortex dim had stabled his horse and simply moved to the closest vertex gate. He had little intrest in the surface city, vortex itself was little more than a gate into har'oloth after all.

Wanting to savor the feeling of having stone above and around him, a fealing he'd not felt in era's and one that in many of his previous experiances had been tainted by other things he took the walkways avoiding the lifts wich were likely built for the more impatient races that foolishly braved the vystichi home. To simply indulge his vystichi instincts and enjoy the comfortable fealing of stone encasing you was a nice treat. Though perhaps because of his many patterns on the surface there was also an anoying hint of discomfort that he did his best to ignore.

[Ian Fraser]

[5th Hour of Srennia, in the Month of Junctior, Autumn, Era II of the Celestine Mandate, Era XIV Post Fractum]

The blonde youth took little notice of his surroundings as he walked; he had little of value on his person, and has no reason to converse with any he could see around himself.

His steps were quick, hurried, impatient even as he made his way to the less-used walkways, avoiding the lifts. He didn't trust them; didn't trust they would crash into a horrendous display of broken bodies and pitiful screams.

He never had trusted other races; he wasn't about to start now.

Head bowed, he walked quickly, trying for all the world to look like he knew where he was going.

[Hurahan Marr]

A sinewy arm holds aloft long deft fingers casting hand shaped shadows over the lupine hawkish face. White eyes through white hair look on through the blur of low slung dusk sun over the cityscape of grand black Vortex. Hurahan Marr has been here once before, had sat with the hanging sway of long since dead in the Mausoleum. Perched in his memory on his haunches atop vine gripped rubble in ruins of the long ago buried. In his memory he conversed with many of the spirits, with murderers and abusers, with philosophers, voyeurs and scribes, dressmakers and society high fly fluttering butterflies.

Marr could not recall where he had been since - only that he had been accompanied by a jet black Hoondvarg Dorin whose coat gleamed during the night and whose eye orbits were bright of red. There was a Fae aswell, Maelletelas, bad teeth, pointed, black like pincers shaped from Obsidian. The Fae would sing under it's minute Tophat and the man... that man who now walks into memory also wearing a Tophat. In his dreams this man talks of The Man - of the Hooded Claw.

Hura scratches absently at his left brow.

White eyes absently meandering up the busling Vortex street.

The sky is lilac, swirling clouds like petal coloured liquid pearl.

Many faces pass him with dirt in their age lines runnin' thick and black.
Black cracked faces smiling yellowed teeth grins, eyes with pink veins in them, glazed with Mead, or Barrow Water, or the luminous blue white aqua concotion of the afterlife ocean... what is its name? Aetheri... Those who drink from the Sea of the Dead, webbed fingers of Elves who pirate the living waters bring back another memory - so many, so few recalled. Faces smirking, gleefully laughing, cackling and crying, splitting to a spray with bullets from a Gun he once knew how to quick-draw.

There is a child stood still watching him now. A girl child of humans with yellow hair and white skin, her face at the cheeks is red, her shoes glitter and her hands begin to move, she is shaping the shapes of the people whose tongue cannot work. Hurahan looks on, the act of this drawing him from the miasma of his copious mind. He blinks, she is gone and he knows what has been spoken.

He is two feet taller than everyone in the street yet he himself is hunched over, much as if his long face, jutting chin and hooked nose were too much a burden upon his spine. His eyes are the white of milk, of clean bone. His hair, though dirty, retains the straight sheen of his kin. He is painfully thin, his boots are old, at the ankle, and end past his toes with a point. His trousers are fitted, meaning they appear like two black bark twigs on a bare winters tree. His overcoat looks as old as mountains. Arms long, hands long, memory gone.

For now.

[Paareth]

1st Brightening, Cryxatum, Spring, Era XV

As he moved deeper, he couldn’t help but think how familiar things looked, though he had never walked this way before. His pride mother had part raised the infants in a cave, Tiala and Saareth being fondest in his memory. Paareth smiled again and then scowled just as quickly, his lucid mind was playing tricks again, he couldn’t trust the memories and shook them off.

He went deeper still, symbolic really of his life’s path. The cloaked figure, pulled the hood that bit tighter as he moved inward, not openly hiding himself to draw suspicion but not giving anything away. Despite being away from a city for many years, he remembered how to pass with little notice. Don’t make eye contact but don’t avoid it, glance at those who’s attention was elsewhere or who seemed distracted.

The moisture and air was thicker here, he felt it almost immediately, it was more stale. He sniffed lightly and breathed it in deeply, wanting any scent to be familiar.

With little else of worth here, the Jagara took note of the cities entrance in case he had to leave at a run. After spending so long in the wild, the closer he came to civilization, the more uncomfortable he felt but he did his best to not reflect that in his expression.

The dark Jagara slowly became a silhouette from the surface and entered to find his fate.

[Zaphier]

OOC:: First post, cheers.

IC:: The dark undertones of this place drew the orc's attention when others spoke or vortex and its under city. He knew that a place like that crimes of his own past would scarcely even be questioned. Here he could make his own way and grow how ever he saw fit. Danger, was a common word used to describe the city. This brought a sharpened smile to his tusked face. If an orc could grow strong anywhere, it would be near danger.

A low irritated grumble came from the figure as he came closer to the caves mouth.
The thought of living like a dwarf would not leave his mind as he moved into the darkness. His vision would shift as light faded around him naturally to a duller night vision. Cramped spaces were not something that he would be pleased about. He was a large one you could say. A pure blooded orc bread for war and perfection through selective breading over years of brutal tribal waring. He would be damned if he was going to spend his days in a cramped cave by choice. Alone in the world now, it was time to make his own way forward.

The green skinned one made his way down the hallway as he clutched the strap of his backpack which held all his properties pulling it towards his exposed chest. As he made his way though the crowds the large celling would widen and it would prove to be more then he expected at first. With a stern face he would simply nod to himself in approval and continue his was into the city.

It was surprising how many orcs lived here. Almost one in ten it seemed, maybe he was not the only one that thought this way. Never the less he needed to secure a place to stay and was dieing to get himself a few drinks.

[Hurahan Marr]

OOC: Dropping in.


"Guards! Guards!!"

He charges toward them, the gaping shadowed maw of Har'oloth engulfing him as he walks under its surface lip. The Guards turn abruptly, all three appear ready to unsheath their swords. Hura spots them and in return raises both hands signalling he is un-armed.

"Please, no!

I am here on a most distressing situation. Please, I must ask if you have seen two children enter the Under-City. They are most dear to me, most dear for they are the seeds of my recently deceased companion. A lifetimes worth of questing and friendship gone at the hands of an Ogre in the Highlands.

Oh merciful be thy Gods!!

As she lay dying I swore to her that I would take her children under my wing and raise them as she would hope to see them. Fine... fine upstanding Citizens of this City... I came here to open a shop, to educate them in civility so they would never have to hold a blade, to commit violent acts but... but I woke this morning and they were gone!

Vanished!!

Stolen!!!

I must find them, I must. My life could not carry the burden of failing my dear friend, my dear poor dead friend... Geraldine."

They look at the tall, sinewy Esh'Lahier as if he has something from the bottom of a large creature smeared across his forehead.

They shake their heads in unison.

"No?! ... ohhh no..."

He falls to both knees, hands clenched to his chest.

After several moments of silence he nods solemnly and begins to rise.

"Then I must venture into the City of Under, and claim them back from whatever foul denizen of the deep currently possesses them.

I will strive for justice!!"

He marches past them.

In the shadow of Vertex, with Vortex falling away behind him under dusk light, we see that he is barely containing an excitable laughter.

[Immael Kha'Serith]

14th of Optia, Spring PF XV

Immael approached the vertex with apprehension. Everything he did in this city caused him apprehension. This form. He despised it. He missed his wings, hated how flexible the tail was, utterly loathed the fur. The first thing he was going to do when he left, was find a pantheri, murder him, skin him, and burn the flesh. The body he would eat.

He nodded to the guard as he passed into the stairway that ran to the bottom. Another reason he missed his wings. He could have simply glided the whole thing, it was wide enough. He growled, which came out as an embarassing purr, and strolled down the stairs.

*****

Finally he entered into the underground city, a sigh escaping his lips. Why couldn't his other form have been a suarid? They looked literally the same but had nicer tails then these cat things. Oh well. He set off, looking for his goal.

[Ilfirin Tyraen Chumomisto]

Optia, Era XV Post Fractum

It was odd. All this time in Vortex, and he never even once thought about going into Har'oloth. Then again, he never liked those Vysstichi elves anyways. If they weren't off taunting him, they would be torturing him with sticks and rocks.

Ilfirin sighed. He really had to have been an idiot to have come here, but he shrugged. There was always that curiosity that remained in his heart. For that, he knew that he would always do idiot things-like what he was doing now.

[Auer]

Apertus, Era XV PF

With clenched teeth Auer acted upon her whim and followed the crowds to Har’oloth. Auer moved with the array of strangers further into the dark depths of the vertex. Her violet eyes swept over the crowd taking note of the guards before moving on. Auer looked for the men of her past; her violet orbs continued to gaze around whilst she probed deep within her being to where the curse resided. There was a very good chance the clan still loitered in the dark depths of Vortex with dozens of slaves to torment however the curse, her only precaution told Auer that for the moment she was safe.

The half Elf found that despite the true Auer screaming from her cage within, the corrupted Auer could not help but investigate and cast her eyes upon the places that had haunted her memory and her darkenings since. Perhaps she was addicted to torture, perhaps she was hoping for a run in with members of the cult; the reason mattered not, her feet had found the dark path and so she continued on.

[Eelahi Moi'baern]

First Solaria of Imperios, 18th Candlemark

Eelahi made her way slowly through the entrance into the underground city, taking her time and ignoring the faster means of travel. After all, why waste the money when there was so much more to see this way?

She moved up first, to the small gift shop she had heard tell of from other tourists gossping among themselves. A quick purchase of flowers later, she was moving downward once again, sniffing idly at the flowers as she moved.

Her long dark hair was pulled into two loose braids on either side of her head, reaching just above her breasts a nd tied at the ends with colorful ribbons - the one on her left blue, and the one on her right pink. She wore a long white dress, a brown overdress over top of it.

It was late for this little excursion of hers, the sun just beginning it's descent. Night would be coming soon, and her good sense told Eelahi to save this trip for later. But really, when would it be safe for such a trip?

Holding the flowers close to her face, head bowed slightly, she moved slowly through the crowds, knitted black shoulder bag hanging from her left shoulder. A colorful scarf hung through the shoulder strap of the bag, as if carelessly thrown there. It was frayed a bit on the ends, obviously hastily made - speaking of her lack of funds, she knew. She didn't mind, though - it made her less of a target for pickpockets and thieves.

Her voyage down into the underground city was slow, no hurried as so many around her seemed to be. She made no complaint if she was jostled by passing travelers, simply checked to make sure her bag was still intact, scarf still hanging. She did peek inside her bag from time to time, to make sure her money pouch was still there, along with the other odds and ends she had situated on top of it - it would be no easy feat for a pickpocket to claim her money purse without taking her bag with it, as well ... and that had been the entire purpose of adding those extra items ... items she really didn't need. The dagger strapped to her thigh, beneath the layers of her dress and and overgarment were all the protection she needed, really - her bow would have been far too cumbersome to take with her.

Hopefully, if all went well, she would leave here with more than just that simple dagger - and more than the few crowns she had to her name. With that thought firmly in mind, a small smile continued to grace her face as she made her way deeper into the bowels of the earth.