Posts tagged Isles of Scion

An Attire for any Age

1 year ago
by Rico Penguin in

  I am not a Historian, nor am I an editor, both of those things should be infinitely clear just by reading this update (only one being a joke on my behalf). I am finding a very large hurdle in the descriptive side of my story and that hurdle is just how I wish my characters to dress?

  It’s not something that originally bothered me, I’ve seen the trick in most stories, using ambiguous terminology and only worrying about it later if your book becomes a film or television show. Even then it generally is taken care of by a group of incredibly bright people who know about fashions across all the centuries. These people make me envious at this space in time.

  But it is not a terrible hurdle, not like those ones that exist in the real world and mock me at their slightly above waist height positioning. This hurdle is one I look forward to greatly, examining the fashions of a few different epic periods in Human history and seeing how I can mesh them to create something at least slightly unique. A Firefly mixture, where instead of cowboys and space, I will take perhaps pieces from Greek and Roman Culture and mix them with attire from the Renaissance? I don’t know yet, likewise writing this late at night when I’m utterly exhausted leaves me anything but creative.

  I wonder if this is why so many popular tales that I’ve been told to read or have read over the years have been within the last century. Special exceptions to characters like Tolkien, but in general I am reading either a story of recent people’s or future people’s who dress like current people’s. Should I have even used ‘s there? It will remain a mystery until the morning I am sure.

  I just ordered a new book for the month after this, The Good Soldiers, hardcover because more-often-than-not I find myself in love with the feel of a hardcover book. Possibly for the same simple reason that I find myself buying collectors editions of certain games (that themselves come with hardcover art books). A special exception being the collectors edition of LittleBigPlanet 2, but that one comes with Bookends. To think…buying games for accessories to use in my book collection, I am truly turning into a weird human being.

ADIOS: Turan – Aid to Votum

1 year ago
by Rico Penguin in

  Throughout the pre-production of “Birth of the Wyrd Mage” I have been slowly creating more and more “characters of value”, persons who require details, backstories, and most particularly looks. Turan is the newest addition to my “family” (if you’ll pardon the lame metaphor). So let us begin, I’ve already begun writing the characters actions but I have no specified looks so this’ll be a first for both you all and myself!

    Turan has been-for longer than many can remember-the High Aid to the King of Spes, his services trailing over the last two Kings and perhaps even further. While he has reportedly lived for seemingly forever his body is not one of eternal vigor, his hair has gone gray and thinned on top (though evenly spread out). His beard has shortened to a goatee with two small spikes of growth to the right and left sides of his chin. His face has sagged and the pouches under his eyes tell the story of many decades of endless servitude.

  The skin on his hands, and much of his body, has become gnarled with old age and a slightly off white. He never could acquire a tan and instead was left with some dark smatterings where particularly bad sunburns left their eternal mark, it gives him an illusionary appearance of being unwashed but this is anything but true.

  Turan has worn the same white coat over the same brown button up tunic for far longer than it was considered fashionable. His pants a pair of equally old brown pants that are just long enough to cover his legs when he is standing, they fit to the point of not requiring any sort of belt or support.

  While his appearance is not one of a kingliness his endless servitude to the throne has left all kings with unquestioning loyalty to him, his unique and out of place dress only seeming to help them distinguish him from the otherwise indistinguishable mass they lead. His eyes are an infinitely deep brown and they bring with them a level of concern and compassion that is only overshadowed on occasion by his often calm attitude.

  Turan does not have his own secrets, though they are ones of pride and not malice, with his growing age Turan has become easier to tire and often retreats to benches out of sight or to his quarters to rest a moment and recollect his thoughts (as well as his breath). His service to the king so great that he wish not to even worry them with his own health.

  There is within the kingdom of Spes likely nobody more devoted to the throne than Turan, and nobody devoted more to the people beyond the King than he, he is as wise as he is wizened and as perceptive as he is altruistic. These statements may be misconstrued so to do away with turns of phrase: He is very old, very wise, hauntingly perceptive, and utterly altruistic.

  It was Turan that turned away the title of High Aid, simply referring to himself as an Aid, though his position is considered by all but he to be such (there has never been one appointed since his arrival).

  Perhaps a trope (the nice wise old man) but he is more inspired by a wonderful photo I found online than from a series of ideals. He is the embodiment of what I envision a single real world individual to be, perhaps completely erroneously, but that is the joy of imagination.

  Turan would want it no other way.

Rico examines “The Journey”

1 year ago
by Rico Penguin in

  So I’ve been plotting, in between the various books I’ve read over the last 5 weeks. Trying too see how to do it, how to develop characters that are full enough to complete my own insatiable needs. I am, first and foremost, an addict, though not in the conventional sense. I am an addict of stories, of themes, of ideas, of individual beings, I need these things to feel complete. The lesser laws of writing do not concern me as much, grammar being a crutch that I refuse to carry and a lesson I refuse to learn. It is an ignorance I think more existent because of fear than resources, I actually worry that being too methodical in my writing would take away from that emotion I need.

  Maybe I’m wrong? I would be shocked if I wasn’t actually. But my concern now is more of the journey, of where my characters will go and who they will be. What do I want them to become, why should they become what they become, and how should they become who they become? There is a level of love I must put into these characters, otherwise I would be committing an act no less grievous than murder. Which brings me back to my addiction, a most problematic existence I have when it comes to fictional universes. For me the longer they exist, the harder it is for me to lose them. I watch as in a single batch of words, that final sentence, murders the lives of each and every character that exists in that universe.

  You might say to yourself, they still exist in my mind, in my heart, or some other sweet words that would be in a movie carried on by a soft orchestral piece but this is impossible for me to comprehend. Would we, humans, have ever existed if all details of our existence were obliterated? If we never escape the Earth and our sun swallows us like a psychotic parent, will we have ever truly been? A trillion existences could come and go after we are gone, if nothing is left to show for us, we will never be on their minds. There will be no words of the great Human Wars, their inexplicable prejudices, or their capacity to survive. Our good and our bad will vanish the very second all proof of our existence vanishes. Even now, as you read this, you may think to yourself that we will live on in spirit. But that very thought is coming because you now exist, once you are gone everything exists only in memoriam. This, this is how I feel when every story I read ends.

  When characters have been made to be believable, loved, hated, misunderstood, or even uncomfortably hollow I find that their existence cannot have an end. Yet they do, those final words, that happy or sad ending, leaves me with a twitch in my mind and a cold feeling in my core. Everyone I had known for those days, or weeks, months, or years is now gone. As if a massive bomb had vanquished the life of tens, hundreds, thousands, or millions of my friends. I walk into every story like most people walk into a family pet, purchasing a future tragedy in hopes that the memories you will carry along the way will make up for it. But to me, they only compound the pain, make it greater than it could have been.

  An example of which is when a family member dies, if you never met them, never spoke, had no idea of their traits. You will find, at least most people do, that their death doesn’t really move you. It might hurt because it hurts those close to you, but a direct connection is not made. Because you never shared a part of your emotions with that character you do not suffer from their ceased existence. It is those happy moments that come before the tragedy that make it all the greater and all the more painful.

  I applaud bad writers for one thing, they never hurt me, I may lose some time in my life to their terrible writing. But I have never lose a piece of myself. They do not construct a planet in the universe of my mind only to drop it along the event horizon of a black hole, they merely give me a text to read. Like you read these ramblings, by the end you will not feel hollow, you will not have lost. It is merely facts, data, a series of points that do lead to an end but bring with them no true emotions. Perhaps some week, planned ones, but nothing you will remember in a years time.

  So I have decided that I will not do the same, in some manner or another, I shall give my characters a continued existence. At least for as long as I, myself, do exist. After that I can only hope we have erected a system of data storage that is replicating and nigh indestructible, though seeing as I’ll in theory be dead I suppose I won’t really care. Unless I’ve been very wrong about a few things, but that is a topic for another day.

  Back to work, this was an enjoyable ramble during my lunch break.

Over thinking It

1 year ago
by Rico Penguin in

To say that I over think things would be an understatement of such proportions that it would be far beyond a lie. It is something that keeps me up many nights and causes me to think about situations that all others involved have long since forgotten.

I’ve noticed it all the more recently as I work on “the story”. (Now forgive me as I’m about to compare myself to a truly talented writer, this isn’t to say I am talented, it just happens to be who I’m reading at this moment) I’ve been reading harry potter, yes I know only a decade or so after the rest of the world started. I try my best to be so far back on the bandwagon that I occasionally must rush after it as it scampers off without me. Keeps life refreshing for me that way…in the sense that I can enjoy something and not feel the urge to rant on about it for ages. Although today that will not be the case!

At any rate Rowling manages to present an entire castle worth of characters, likely thousands of students, hundreds of teachers, and a plethora of monsters all working in tandem. The details of what all of them do is scarce, save for about 20 or so major players but it still feels like a very deep and active place to learn. I wonder as I read it, how many hours did Rowling spend plotting out the journeys students with no real importance made each day? Did she spend nights pondering about just what the professors were doing at the moment Harry and Ron walked into that very wet and very empty girl’s bathroom?

How many days of her life were lost to constant thought over just what Dumbledore was eating each day? Did these sort of questions even pop up to her? I find myself plotting distances, times, steps taken, weather patterns, social and economic issues. I’m pondering what characters who won’t even appear for multiple books are doing at the exact moment a situation is going down.

It is swallowing my mind to the point where I’m thinking about it during much of the rest of the day, even when I AM reading Harry Potter. As I plod away through the, admittedly very interesting, tale of this young boy and his friends I am wondering just how the next scene of my own fantasy universe will pan out. I’m hoping by the end of this first novel I’ll have some sort of system down, a series of kill switches to help dull the endless pondering about this place. Because if I don’t I might just wake up one day within the pages.

ADIOS: The King of Spes: Votum.

1 year ago
by Rico Penguin in

Votum by DM (Alpha)  Votum, the lord of all Spes, goes only by one name. This name was not always his, though his real name is no longer known. During the battle of the Great Divide Votum clashed with not only the common enemy of Vitis but also with traitors amongst his own people. He was not at this time the king, nor was he a high ranking soldier, however the experience brought him to the edge of death. It was at this moment that he came face to face with Adageo the Seraphim of Valor.

What was spoken is unknown, however he was bestowed with two gifts; the name that all worship and the transformation into the demigod that he is now known as today. Birthed from the bloodied and shattered frame that was his former self rose a titan amongst mere mortals. Standing as a tower of power at the epicenter of a sea of death Votum peered off towards the soldiers who felt their victory certain. He howled with such fury and vindication that it echoed for miles. Every eye, every blade, every tensed muscle was prepped because of, and upon, his presence. An army of ten thousand men rushed at Votum, and hundreds more from the traitorous rank and file that had killed all his friends and countrymen. The first hundred dropped with nothing but quaking fists, from them he armed himself with everything he could carry and began to reap his way through the battle field. Arrows were swatted from the air, shields were shattered, and blades cracked and dulled beneath his endless swings.

  It would be many hours before the last remnants of the assault fled from the hulking mass that was Votum. He spent days burying every fallen soldier of Spes that lie on that battlefield. The tale of his conquest spread not only across Vitis but through whispers and dark alleyways of Spes itself. As he marched back, alone, to the center of his homeland he was greeted with wonder and cheers from the people who would soon crown him their king.

  Votum is a passionate lord who sees all in his nation as his children. However the events of that battle have forever scarred him, his heart skips a beat with every shiver across his nation, the fear that any of those he holds so dear could betray him. Each crime that transpires is like a scorching iron poker to his eye. Votum, unknown to his people, spends many hours at the deepest recesses of Mt. Votum screaming as his mind is taunted with paranoia and despair. However amongst it all he still presents himself as powerful and immovable.

  His powers are not only of sheer physical absurdity but Votum has also gathered an extra perception that aids in his quest to cleanse his lands of any taint. If Votum peers into the eyes of any living being he will begin to see all the things they have done recently, playing back in reverse from the moment he peers into their eyes. Though he rarely uses it as most traitors cease their onslaught upon meeting the great king in person.

  At his heart, Votum is alone, a nation of brilliance and prosperity surrounds him, a collection of the greatest minds command every inch of his land beneath his watch, and yet amongst all this he is utterly alone. This perhaps, above all else, is his only weakness. A weak link just waiting to be tugged.

  Special Mention: Thanks Dave for a great concept Image. He made this in the time it takes me to make a sandwich. Always a pleasure and an honor. Note to people curious, the golden visor is a temporary placement it isn’t actually intended :) .

Coming this Week(end) on TheIOS:
IIWP (If I was President): Taxation

ADIOS: Hyo

1 year ago
by Rico Penguin in

Hyo (Artwork by David Herricht)

One of the major protagonists in the first IOS book (hopefully to be finished this year). He meets up with the main protagonist Deki at the major fork leading to Sanctus and Tianim. Little about his is known, and no amount of prodding by the inquisitive Orc seems to change that.

Hyo is a well educated wanderer whose major driving force is unknown to everyone (apparently even him). He knows things that given his sightlessness he should not and he fights with a skill that borders on the super human. Hyo loves to live vicariously through others, meeting and joining with whoever he happens to find, his eclectic nature tending to get all involved into varying levels of trouble.

Hyo is very protective of his robe and wears it at nearly all times, the hood of his robe when worn hangs far over his face masking his identity completely. However even when thrown back much of his face is covered by a thick leather band that completely conceals the upper half of his face. He is roughly the same height as Deki however quite a bit lighter. His robe hangs loose on him and doesn’t appear to have been made specifically for him.

What, if any, purpose he may have is an ever growing question that becomes all the more clouded as the events of Bellum unfold in “Isle of Bellum: Birth of the Wyrd Mage”. Did this last line come across as an advertisement? Drat! I knew I should have taken a few courses in sneaky marketing!

More short bios to come as my good friend and adopted brother David H. draws more concept art for the characters :) . He is the visual muse to my literary creations. If you be a lady, are single and in your early 20’s, you should totally date him. The more the merrier I say! ;)

- Rico

I.W.A.S. – Deki Stargazer

2 years ago
by Rico Penguin in

Waz: Hi. Welcome to an Interview with a Scionian. The goal with these interviews will be to help flesh out the inhabitants of the IoS universe. Our first guest in this series is none other than Deki Stargazer. Welcome Deki.

Deki: Thank you Waz! I’m very flattered that you decided to pick me for the first interview. So many people to choose from and you go and choose little ole me.

Waz: Don’t be silly. You are the protagonist of the first book, you are the natural choice for the first interview. A milestone if you will, so shall we begin?

Deki: Of course. Ask away.

Waz: What would you say is the most remarkable thing about you?

Deki: Wow. That’s a tough question. I’m often told that being a blue orc is pretty remarkable. People gawk at me and whisper about me. It’s enough to make you insecure. I also can’t remember anything from my life before the Alten incident.

Waz: Do you have any formal training in combat or arts?

Deki: Not really no. I have gotten better at fighting lately but it has hardly been formal training. Unless you count highwaymen trying to rob you as formal.

[Deki and Waz Laugh]

Waz: No I can’t say that I can.

Deki: As for arts, I have recently gotten interested in writing a diary. I don’t think that counts either but it has helped me.

Waz: You say it helped you. Are you referring to your amnesia?

Deki: Yes. I haven’t been able to pinpoint the cause, it is hard. Sometimes I can feel my own memories melting away.

Waz: That’s pretty intense. Has there been any further loss of memories since Alten?

Deki: That’s the unfortunate thing here. I don’t know. I’d imagine so as I have some holes in what happened. Whenever I feel these memory holes I assume that I’ve lost something forever.

Waz: Not to change subjects but we are limited on time. How would you describe your personality?

Deki: Insecure maybe. But certainly caring, I don’t want to see anyone innocent hurting. I get uncomfortable in serious situations. I like to use comedy to help ease any situation like that. Then again I’m not all that funny so it only seems to help me most times. If I were to describe myself in a short alliteration I’d say something like “Nice, Neurotic and Nerdy.”

Waz: What food do you like best? If it isn’t a single food then perhaps a food type.

Deki: I’m a big fan of anything spicy. Spicy and really warm foods, I like the feeling in my tummy.

[Waz flips through interview notes]

Waz: Have you ever been in a war before?

Deki: Objectively I want to say no. But subjectively I feel like that would be a lie. I’m sure being blue I’d stand out like a firefly at midnight, I’d surely get wounded or worse. War scares me to death.

Waz: How do you feel about death? Not necessarily in yourself but witnessing it.

Deki: I fall apart. I’m not good in those sort of situations. The adrenaline is nice but otherwise it is a terrible experience.

Waz: You say “I fall” and not any form of hypothetical, are you eluding that you may have already been involved in this sort of incident?

Deki: Is there anything else you want to ask me? I am also on a short time frame.

Waz: Well by all means we could reschedule for a second interview at a later date? Would that be best for you.

Deki: Yes. I think I would really prefer that. It was a pleasure Waz.

Avatar of Passion – Ignis the Tyro Pyro (A Short Story)

2 years ago
by Rico Penguin in

First Draft of Avatar of Passion – Ignis the Tyro Pyro, please leave any thoughts here or (the more popular option) by email. This is also in my drop box for anyone signed up for that.

- – -

Day 1 of Expedition to Onyx Forest, 3rd of Gefil:

Day 1 of the Expedition has been quite fruitful. Adura and Myself have found the recently formed Onyx forests. Reports of the newly birthed forest have flooded out to all nearby cities. High activity of Infernal Beasts suggests a strong concentration of high energy crystals. We have been informed that it is almost certain that a burst cave is in the area and that such region will house the crystals. I am skeptical, the information is a bit too direct for my tastes, our contractor knows more than they are telling us.

Slightly unrelated but worthy of note, Adura has told me many times now that she feels we are being followed. Because of this we are taking shifts sleeping, however I pity anyone who underestimates either of us.

Ignis

~ ~ ~

Day 3 of the Expedition to Onyx Forest, 5th of Gefil:

We have not yet located the burst cave. However we have spotted at least two dozen Infernal beasts, one of which was an exceptionally large Sapphire Dragon. The Canopy of Onyx has kept us relatively hidden from the large predators but I am skeptical of the safety in this expedition. As it stands we have no short supply of food, the trees are high in nutrition and exceptionally tasty. Likewise I brought some rock candy with us, hopefully this guilty ration will last the entire trip, these fruitless days are a bit of a bore.

Catching up on my previous entry: Myself and Adura have both now seen someone-something-at least sneaking around the woods around us. Adura is quite worried but I have reassured her that nobody will be able to harm us as long as I’m here. I have a sneaking suspicion that bandits heard of the cave and are hoping to steal the loot from under our noses. They obviously haven’t heard that a Pyromancer is on the mission.

Ignis

~ ~ ~

Day 4 of the Expedition to Onyx Forest, 6th of Gefil:

There is good and bad news on this day. The good news is that we have indeed found the Burst Cave, confirming my suspicions it lies almost exactly where they told us we’d find it. I worry something is up, to compound my fears, Adura has become ill. She is getting a little too cold for comfort at this point. I will give the trip another two days, if we do not locate the crystals by then I am going to call off the mission and we’ll get her back. I am not about to lose my friend over what has from the beginning unsettled my stomach.

There appears to be three things following us, none of them are beasts that I can tell, I’m not even sure if they know I am tracking them as they track us. However the amount of beasts around the cave borders on obscene, it is nothing I cannot handle, but I worry that Adura’s sickness may make this a more difficult expedition than anticipated.

She seems visibly upset, not because of her health, but of the burden she has become. I wish she’d realize that she’s never a burden to me.

Ignis

~ ~ ~

The cracking of Crystal woke Ignis from her sleep. She eyed around quickly, the burning cinders of the blast cave kept the entirety of it glowing like a fire in its death throes.

"Adura? Where are you?" Ignis stood quickly, eying around visibly worried. On the ground 50 feet from her lie Adura; face to the floor. "Adura!" Ignis shouted, dashing towards her partner.

Adura rolled over slowly, her stony skin glowed from the warmth of the blast cave floor. "Ignis?" She yawned, sitting up from the floor weakly. "I’m sorry. I suddenly got tired."

Ignis ran her fingers through Adura’s silver hair. "I’ll take watch for the rest of the night." Ignis moved Adura’s arm over her shoulder and helped her back to the camp.

Adura frowned. "Is it alright? I’m sorry." Shaking her head in shame.

"No no no. Don’t worry at all. I just want you to get better." Ignis responded.

Adura laid down on the woven asbestos bedroll and almost immediately fell back to sleep. Ignis looked on with worry.

"Please get better." She whispered.

Ignis walked over to one of the blast cave walls. Running her hardened stone fingers across the surface, the friction causing sparks to dance off the wall. Ignis began to concentrate and the sparks that showered towards the floor halted in mid air.

She turned and gestured into the air before her with her hands. The tiny fragments of flame followed her command and began to dance in front of her. A ballroom dance of fire, like a few dozen fireflies, they spun around one another. Eternal lovers caught up in the moment.

The infernal waltz glowed in her emerald eyes, each entirely devoid of pupils, merely large green orbs resting comfortably within her hard stone head. Stands of shimmering steel hair ran down her back. Around her wrists a pair of hardened titanium bracelets given to her at her birth. An unassuming figure upon the Isle of Tartaro, but she was so much more.

A land entirely engulfed in endless fire and brimstone, a sea of scorching chaos, she was one of an extremely rare breed. A pyromancer, not merely gazing upon the wonders of the land, but controlling it. She was the manifestation of passion, a force of nature whose full strength was not fully realized, at least not yet.

With a twist of her fingers the embers fell to the ground. She began to concentrate deeper, slowly at first the embers crawled along the ground. Each rolling unto another, until two small figurines of flame stood in front of one another. Like a puppetmaster she began to pull unseen strings, the first figure gestured to the second for a dance. With a few twists of the wrists they were dancing around with one another, the embers that were their heads fixated upon one another.

The twisting and turning left a trail of smoke, a momentary history of their embrace. The two figures danced around the sleeping Adura, as Ignis smiled warmly.

"We’ll get you back home. I promise."

Another crack caught Ignis’ attention. One of the figures crumbled to the ground while the other, in tandem with Ignis, looked towards the sound. A moment later it too fell.

"Who is there?" Ignis spoke, her voice stern but soft enough not to wake Adura. "Show yourself now if you value your lfe."

A slender sliver of flame crawled towards toe duo, a small flaming centipede, curiously approaching. Ignis lowered herself to the ground and opened her palm towards the insect. "Come here little one."

As if it understood the insect sped towards her and climbed into her palm. Her hand began to glow red as the two warmed one another. It began to give off a tiny humming chatter with its obsidian incisors. With her free hand Ignis began to pet the centipede. "What are you doing in here? You sense the crystal too don’t you?"

Ignis raised the centipede to her shoulder. "It is warm up here too. You can take watch with me tonight." It’s one hundred legs carried it from her hand to her shoulder where it quickly proceeded to curl up, resting its own head on its coiled body. The hum of its teeth was a calming harmony in the nearly silent crackle of the cave.

~ * ~

It was difficult for the average Tartarun to gauge the time of day on Tartaro. It was an Isle eternally hidden beneath a cloud of Sulfur and Steam, blocking out any true stellar light source that would hint towards a standard cycle. Instead it was the response of nature that gave the citizens a hint of what time it was.

In the case of Ignis she could sense the change of the land itself, the subtle increase of the firestorms, the infernal cousins to dust storms on distant lands. Feel the slight increase in the scorching heat, and the increased activity of the wildlife, all these things combined in her mind to help her know more accurately than nearly anyone else just what time it truly was.

She stroked the cheek of Adura. "Wake up. We are almost there." Adura smiled, still in a bit of a daze.

"I’ll be ready in a minute mother."

Ignis chuckled. "Still dreaming?"

Adura’s eyes began to glow as she came to. "Hmm?"

"You called me mother." Ignis responded.

"I did?" Adura was obviously embarrassed, her cheeks began to glow, a sign of warmth that pleased Ignis.

"I’m flattered but you are older than me. I’m talented but not quite that talented."

Ignis began to repack their supplies as Adura gathered her energy. A single asbestos bedroll, a small sealable basket of foodstuffs, and a rod of solid diamond. In all her trips this had been all she had needed, and it was beginning to look like it would be all she needed once more.

Blast caves are essentially regions of Tartaro where intense levels of energy are instantaneously released not unlike a volcano. The results are incredibly deep caves that attract all sorts of Tartarun flora and fauna, and for explorers like Ignis they also reaped a very reasonable living.

This particular cave was a bit different however, whereas all her previous experiences with them resulted in many catacomb like systems this particular one had a singular path. A linear drop deep into the land. The further they went the cooler the cave got, something was draining the heat out of the cave.

As they went deeper Adura was becoming noticeably uncomfortable.

Ignis began to rub her hands together until they grew red hot and sparked. Tensing her mind the sparks began to spin, with such an intensity that they were creating friction in nothing but the air. In a matter of moments a half dozen orbs of fire floated in the air.

Adura smiled weakly. "You are such a show off."

Ignis smiled back, her orbs floated towards and surrounded Adura. Their combined light reflecting off of her. "Thank you."

Ignis waved her hand. "Don’t mention it." Ignis took a step. "No really. I have a reputation to keep." She joked.

The two laughed and then silence, the moment felt like an eternity, until a small chatter broke in.

"Oh. Looks like my little friend is awake." Ignis rubbed the head of the centipede. "Hope you were comfortable."

Hours passed as they marked on. Even Ignis was finding that the cool was unsettling. Something was draining the energy around her without cease. Even the orbs she had formed to warm Adura were spinning with increasing fury to maintain their size and temperature, the only source of light in the entirety of the blast cave at this point.

Then suddenly in the distance.

"Did you see that?"

A faint flicker of light in the otherwise endless darkness broke forth. It was momentary and un repeating, Adura hesitated to mention it again. A minute or so later it glowed once again.

"I saw it that time. That must be it."

Adura sighed with relief. "I’m so glad we found it before you had to break off the expedition."

Ignis frowned. "Stop. Stop blaming yourself. It isn’t your fault you are sick. We’ll get the crystal, get out of here, and get you back to the city before you know it." Ignis tightened her fist and the orbs grew larger. "You’ll be ok and we’ll have a feast celebrating the find. Just you and me."

As the two approached the light source the cave began to glow once more, but it wasn’t a glow of warmth, a violent radiance flooded the cave around the crystals. In an instant Ignis knew what she was gazing upon.

"Dark Crystal." She had read about it in expedition manuals and encyclopedias, however she questioned its existence. The crystallized essence of Dark Energy. Without any doubt this was the greatest find of her entire four century long life.

It may have been the immensity of the find or the entrancing glow of the crystal but Ignis had befallen something that hadn’t happened to her in almost one hundred years: an ambush.

Quickly dashing back Ignis barely missed being beheaded from something falling from the ceiling of the cave. Crouched in front of her was a lengthy being, a Tartarun who looked as if they’d been put stretched to breaking. Long spindly arms of stone ended with two stumpy hands wrapped tightly around a diamond blade.

As Ignis backed up she bumped into a wall, a wall with hands. Two massive hands wrapped around her and lifted her into the air. "We’ll be taking that." Called out a voice. To her right from behind the massive Tartarun was an old man, even by Tartarun standards. A long obsidian bared stretched down to his waist, his bald head glowing with the flames twirling around Adura…Adura!

Ignis began to look around herself frantically.

The spindly man stood up from the ground. "Looking for your friend?" He cackled, in any other situation Ignis wouldn’t dignify such a fool with a response, but she was without options.

"Where is she." Ignis screamed, her body subtly glowing ever brighter.

"I’m amazed she made it this far little traveler." The older man responded.

Ignis’ eyes cooled with fear.

"We gave your friend quite a strong concoction of Crystalytes. They’ve been crawling inside of her for days now, telling us exactly where you two were. Turns out that once you had found the cave we didn’t even need you anymore…or her." Her unfurled his hand pointing back towards the entrance of the cave. "On long linear path…who’d have thought that something so precious would be so easily found."

In Ignis’ mind there was only one thought: Rage. With a deafening scream she tensed her fists to the nearly point of cracking. Her body in an instant glowed a bright red, a flash of cinder firing out in every direction, startling her captor. The massive hands released her, she fell to the ground and dashed towards the spindly man.

He raised his sword preparing to fell her, once she came within range he swung down splitting her in two. Like butter the form he cut melted away into nothingness, his cocky grin turned to an expression of confusion. An instant warmth build up in the center of his chest and suddenly it went molten. A diamond staff exploded out his chest from behind him. Ignis lifted him off the ground with the staff and with one quick twirl launched him towards his massive partner.

As he fell Ignis could finally see Adura, lying lifeless on the ground, her eyes as empty and cold as space rock. The ground around Ignis danced from the energy she began to emit. As she turned to the old man he held the shard of Dark Crystal out in front of himself.

"Too slow. Even you are not strong enough to stop me no-" The molten hot fist of Ignis plunged through the old man’s throat, the dark crystal fell onto her back and melted into her infernal flesh. Grasping the back of his neck she swung him to the ground behind her, a rush of energy flooding her form from the crystal.

All Ignis could feel was pain, an endless swirl of pain deep at the core of her soul. Energy rivaling that of a sun began to flow from the base of her feet raising her into the air before the collection of crystal. Her entire body gave birth to wave after wave of fire. Inside her mind she could hear the chatter…of her small friend.

"I consumed him?"

The thought was instantly vanquished with the realization that Adura was gone. Her friend was gone…her Adura…

Slowly she turned, opening her hands she began to concentrate. The Dark Crystal fragments all severed their connection to the cave and rocketed towards her. Impacting with her skin and melting into her. With each piece she became ever more powerful. The old man held his hand over his punctured throat.

"Impossible! The master said I was the chosen!"

In his eyes she could sense everything, her powers had grown exponentially and he was just like any beast of Tartaro. She could smell it…his fear.

The purest form of Passion floated before the old man and his partners. The entirety of Tartaro shook under the weight of Ignis’ scream. A surge of fire rocketed out of the blast gave, liquifying the entire Onyx forest surrounding the blast cave and separating the sulfur clouds above.

As the three melted Ignis could see everything they knew, everywhere they had been, every order they had ever been given. Also she could hear the faint whisper of something else in her mind. The sweet voice of her Adura.

"I’m sorry Ignis." The voice called out.

"Don’t be my Adura. "

In an instant Ignis was floating above the entrance of the blast cave. She knew who had given the orders to the men, she knew who was responsible for the death of her Adura. She knew everything.

The Novice Pyromancer had in an instant become the ultimate incarnate of Passion, she and Adura had become one, she would avenge her Adura. She would show Adura’s true killer the face of fear, the ultimate end of all who stand against passion’s decree.

"I will avenge you."

Ignis screamed, her voice carrying across the entire Isle. "I have awoken. The Avatar of Passion. I am Ignis and you will forever fear my name."

Turning to a form only she could see, Ignis whispered sweetly.

"As long as we are one my love…I am invincible."

ADIOS: The Scionic Calendar

2 years ago
by Rico Penguin in

  Every Month in the Scionic Calendar has 28 days in it. This number is derived from the 27 known Lesser Seraphim, each day of the month has a special sub name derived from the names of these entities. The 28th day is a special day in each month that is considered a time of prosperity that even the most war torn nation observes and respects, mainly for fear of repercussions from the Seraphim themselves.

  The Months themselves are named after the Seraphim Lords and Barons. Of which there are 13 in total. This conveniently enough results in a year that is 364 days long and thusly makes all understanding of events transpiring in the land of Scion relatively simple. It works out almost too well.

  In Order from the beginning of the year to the end the months are, Aurin, Chas, Kalmine, Dimil, Gefil, Hidrone, Ghein, Thananus, Kalma, Atune, Tartun, Phobus, and Scius. The Calendar has been in action for so long that even after the seemingly eternal separation of each Isle they each still use the same Calendar (unbeknownst to them).

ADIOS: The Forbidden

2 years ago
by Rico Penguin in

  In an almost impossible manner, while all Isles are separated to the most extreme of degrees, the Forbidden still exist. More widely known as “The Cult of the Forbidden” these groups of beings, each a select few from the races of their staple Isle, are searching for rare artifacts known as the “Shards of Thanatos”.

  No group has ever met another and yet they each work hardily and without halt towards this ultimate goal. Each connected by some dark event in their life, murder of a loved one, theft of innocence, or some other agent that drove them to the darkest of followings. None of them knows for sure what will come of their acquisition but many pray that it will bring closure to their tattered souls.

  Assassinations, disappearances, and other acts of secret destruction can safely and accurately be tied back to these groups. Even on the most pious of nations these groups exist and they seem almost unstoppable, if only because so few believe they exist. A slick sliver of steel stabbing deeply into the spine without ever being seen are they.

  Some forty shards are all that stand between the entire planet of Scion and what many assume to be the darkest of days. The ceasing of time and quite truly the ultimate end.

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