< atton revisited > The information page for Atton has been fully revised and updated with the new map!
< updated calendar > The Fortuna calendar has been updated in the "Other" lore section! This includes a document which displays the calendar for you to see, making it much easier to understand.
< moving map > The first functional map has been released in the News section! This map is also interactive, allowing you to drag and drop between points in order to determine distances. This is the first iteration, and there's more and better to come!
< first annual awards > The results for the First Annual Fortuna Year-End Awards have been posted! Go and take a look at who the finalists were, and who took home the big prizes!
< new default skin > Our new skin has passed the beta test, and is now the new Default for the forums! If you have any issues with this skin, send a PM or Discord to Mellie.
< human lore update > Humans have been updated with TWENTY-FIVE subraces/subcultures which add numerous options, and a little extra lore and flavour.
< magic lore update > Magical Lore has been enhanced with the addition of a post on Magical Education. From Beginner to Expert, this is how you learn the spells.
< a change to member groups > Member groups are now based on storyline! You can change your displayed storyline by editing the settings in your profile.
Welcome to the world of Fortuna, a land of fantastic proportions. This is an original fantasy roleplay that takes place in a world developed over nearly a decade of work and collaboration. We aim to encourage all participants to have a hand in the stories of the characters here, and the world around them. Your choices are key - so make them with pride. You decide who wins the wars, you decide who becomes King, the world is ours, and together we will bring it to life!
Post by Nikolai Swiftwind on Nov 28, 2016 14:01:01 GMT -7
Early afternoon on the 1st of the Scales of Judgement, 5152. Southern border of the Enfalle region of Niseca.
Nikolai had only been on his own, well and truly on his own, for a month now, which in the grand scheme of a life was a very short amount of time indeed. After the discovery of the younglings' kidnapping he had taken the time needed to prepare himself to separate from the tribe - something which was all but unheard of for those who were not too old or sick to keep up - and then he had struck out on his own, deviating for the first time in his life from the ancient tribal migration pattern that was his home. He would not return to his tribe until he found the missing younglings, and if he never did then he never would. The goodbye with his mother had been long and tear-filled, and he still missed her deeply and suspected he always would.
Nikolai looked to the sky as Anja's call sang through the warm autumn air and he smiled at his constant companion. Having her around made him feel less alone on his long journey, and even though she could not speak with him her presence was a comfort. A little piece of home that followed him no matter how far he strayed. The soft sound of his hooffalls in the grass was relaxing to him and he allowed himself to enjoy the peaceful walk for what it was and tried not to worry about what would find him at the end of it.
When the younglings had been taken there had been only one clue as to who had taken them and that only narrowed it down to every person in the world who could cast Enchantment magic. Not knowing what better course of action to take, Nikolai decided to head through the Enfalle region towards the west, to Disrael, which he knew housed the worst that Niseca had to offer. If kidnappers would be anywhere, it would be there. Or at the very least someone there may know who had taken them or where at least to continue his search.
But Niseca wasn't a small country, and while Nikolai would like more than anything to race across it to find the younglings there was no guarantee that Disrael would have any leads at all. If he was to pass through most of the land to get there, he would do so at a reasonable pace and with care to keep his eyes and ears open along the way. It was possible that if he galloped through without stopping he could miss a valuable clue right under his nose, and he wouldn't risk his sister's life to his impatience.
His saddlebags were a heavy but comforting weight on his back as he travelled. His furs were folded carefully and stowed at the ready should he pass through cooler weather on his journey, and he brought with him two full waterskins which he drank from and filled regularly from the lazy stream he was following. He had minimal food with him, but he had many small trinkets and gems he had found while scouting to trade for anything he couldn't hunt for or find on his own. He liked to think he was stocked for an adventure, but to be truthful he didn't know what he might need for such an event. He had never been farther than a day's ride from his tribe and so had never needed to pack for long excursions on his own. The tribe had everything they needed for their nomadic lifestyle but it was spread amongst the members so that everyone carried their fair share of supplies. He thought he had everything he might need, but he supposed he wouldn't know if he was missing anything important until he needed it.
After hours of trotting, the stream Nikolai was following spread out into a small lake. He saw that it continued on the other side, thankfully, but decided that this was Fayana's way of reminding him that even in these trying times he still needed to rest occasionally, and he decided to do just that. His flank was sweaty under the saddlebags when he removed them and he decided that while he was here at the lake he should most definitely bathe. The warm weather was nice, but being covered in sweat was not his idea of a good time.
"Anja, we're taking a rest break my dear," he called to the bird who made a noise in return and alighted on a tree overlooking the lake. He never quite knew if she could understand things that he said, but sometimes he definitely wondered. He took a few ginger steps into the lake, feeling the cold water wash over his hooves and up to his ankles. The rocky floor of the lake was difficult to gain purchase on, but he knew once he was up to his flank the buoyancy of the water would make it easier to walk. Moving further into the water he shivered as it touched his underbelly but then dove in once it was deep enough, figuring it was best to get it over with all at once so he could acclimatize.
With the water up to his withers only his humanoid upper body was out of the water. He enjoyed the cool feeling of the water flowing through the hair on his lower body. To anyone passing by he would likely just look like a regular human, which was an amusing thought to him. He would definitely continue his search as soon as possible, but for now he would enjoy the peaceful day and the lake and the chance to cool down and rest.
Post by Violet Macar on Nov 29, 2016 23:22:39 GMT -7
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It had been a long time since Violet had been to Niseca. In fact, she hadn't revisted the place since her first exploration of it in her teen years. She was nearing forty now, so it wasn't a length of time to sneeze at. It simply never seemed to have the controversy she needed. Hell, even when Matthias Toran was crowned King and the place seemed ready to revolt - he wound up simply listening their anger away. It was dull. Boring. Pathetic. Certainly not a tale to get the readership of The Tablet up. So why exactly had she returned?
Disrael.
She'd been following it's growth from Artavia, and had checked in with sources in Submiere, Aissic, and Submiere when she visited them about the goings on. It was a mystery like no other. King Toran was refusing to step in and stop the spread of the criminal, destitute, dirty, flat-out evil folks of the small city turned full territory. He had in fact recognized their independence. Nothing else had come out of it, and no one had seen fit to investigate beyond the bureaucratic walls the King and his advisor had set-up... And those who cared would not dare venture into Disrael territory for fear of capture, imprisonment, slavery, torture, disembowelment - all manner of enticing topics. Violet was none of those people. She didn't fear Disrael, or Alvin Lee.
Certainly not as much as the wilds themselves.
"Tut, tut, even in the shade of the trees the sun is like a frost-bitten monocle, hm?" She spoke to herself often as she travelled, keeping to the shade as much as possible during the day. The sun didn't burn her - not like some ajatar - but damn if it didn't make her hard of sight. She found herself squinting, and occasionally even tearing at the pure brightness of it. Some would recommend she camp during the day, and only travel at night, where she was more in her element... But then, she would tell them - if they asked, and if she trusted them enough with her identity, which she never would, so they were an imaginary them, but that was another matter entirely - "Well, darling, then I couldn't very aptly take on the role of a pointy-eared, speaker to the trees - could I!" She knew, of course, that wood elves didn't speak to trees, but it fit the fantasy she was portraying, and covered for her habit of talking to herself.
"Besides, not a soul could appreciate my effort if not for that dastardly skylight." In fact, her look was quite convincing. She had spent her first several days in Niseca observing wood elves, gathering their physical traits - the commonalities between each of them - as well as noting the places where they most differed. In the end, she wound up with dark brown skin, and matching hair that had a rough texture almost like hemp rope. Her body was tall and lean, built for leaping over logs and brachiating through the trees. She carried a bow - which she didn't know how to use, and didn't bother to bring arrows for that reason - and had used her magic to transmute her notebook into an old, leather hide looking thing. Surely at a glance - and even with inspection - she would look like the elf she was trying to be.
She hummed to herself as she traipsed through the woods. Her race was gifted with stealth, but she wasn't bothering to use it. She assumed herself alone in the woods but for the animals - and alone she would stay until she arrived at the next city or village. Which -- she pulled out a map and attempted to devise where she was now to little avail -- was far enough to way to have her worry over water. Perhaps a stream, river, lake, basin, creek, dam, inlet, or cove would appear. She couldn't very well do a convincing voice when she was so parched.
Luckily for her, it was just the thing she was nearing. She hadn't heard it quite yet, the chirping sounds of a high-flying bird distracting her - but her lack of caution was certainly audible to those in the stream, or the clearing around the stream, by those who were more adept at forest life...
Post by Nikolai Swiftwind on Nov 29, 2016 23:51:40 GMT -7
Nikolai ran his fingers through his long hair under the water, feeling it spread out in the current as though it had a life of its own. He scrubbed at it with his fingers before surfacing and letting it fall about his shoulders and stick slickly to his back. He smiled up at Anja and called, "See any fish? I think it's just about lunchtime! Help me out here, you big fluffy killing machine." He laughed and Anja cocked her head at him humourlessly. Well, he supposed that was what he got for traveling with a bird. Their sense of humour was terrible.
He was considering leaving the water and drying off, as he was in fact feeling quite hungry now that he'd thought about it, when he heard rustling in the nearby trees. He could just make out a shadowy shape moving amongst them and he frowned, wondering what kind of creature might be preparing to jump out and attack him. As the shadowy figure approached though, he could make out that it was definitely humanoid in shape which narrowed it down to a sentient being of some sort, or a very limited number of monstrous breasts. It didn't make the shadowy creature any less potentially deadly though.
For a period of time, he debated between going to the shore and grabbing his bow or spear or simply hiding in the water and hoping whatever it was passed quickly and without incident. He decided on the former, simply because even if he hid under the water the creature could come along and steal his saddlebags which contained everything he had in the world, or his weapons which he was personally quite attached to.
Swimming to the shore, he stepped out of it gingerly as he balanced on the stupid river rocks, then once he was on solid and grassy ground once again he shook himself off and picked up his bow, nocking an arrow and looking to the trees. "Who goes?" he questioned, his voice strong and confident-sounding. If it was a sentient being they would respond, and if it was a monstrous creature it would either attack or run away. Actually, a sentient being might attack or run away as well. But regardless, he had the jump on it as he was ready for whatever it decided to do.
Post by Violet Macar on Nov 30, 2016 13:49:28 GMT -7
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She froze the moment she heard the voice, and began figuring the senses around her.
She couldn't see much of anything, the brush obscuring the clearing, and her strained eyes obscuring the rest. As she squinted she wondered if eye-glasses would help - but then she remembered that she needed to be in disguise much of her time. Requiring spectacles was sure to be a dead giveaway. Still, a shaded pair of sunglasses would look stunning on her typical-- focus. She needed to focus.
She could hear, now that she was listening, running water. A babbling brook for a babbling mind. But, it was beyond the voice. If she were to simply run out in desperation for hydration she would likely face resistance. It was yet another distraction to add to the growing list. Beyond the water was that bird. She looked up to see if she could spot the winged thing - but the sun burned her retinas she turned back down with a small cluck of her tongue.
It was the smell that helped her most. The smell of a wet animal. Equine. A horse, most likely. She doubted a unicorn would be traipsing around Disrael of all places. She took a big whiff to confirm her suspicions and nodded at herself approvingly. Yes, that was a wet horse.
"Calm calm, mon amie!" She called out in a thick Nisequous accent, "A simple elf, seeking refresh-ment from zat zweet smelling courant. Continue avec your cheval, s'il vous plaît!" She wondered briefly if perhaps the person beyond the brush was a traveler like herself, wondered if they would even understand the old Nisequois language. Perhaps she would throw in more Common. She wasn't sure of how many more Nisequois words she knew, anyways.
Post by Nikolai Swiftwind on Nov 30, 2016 16:42:12 GMT -7
Nikolai let out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holdin when the mysterious shadow revealed itself to be an elf. A female elf by the sounds of it but then again that was an assumption. But he was glad to hear it wasn't a monstrous creature intent on eating him.
The elven woman had a strange accent, one he recognized from trading caravans his tribe had interacted with but he didn't recognize some of her words. Initially he wondered if he had water in his ears and he shook his head to clear it but when that didn't help he realized she was speaking words in a different language. Interesting.
When she asked if she could reveal herself he nodded and replied, "You may. I will not attack you if you promise the same."
Post by Violet Macar on Nov 30, 2016 16:57:11 GMT -7
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"Merci, merci, mer--" She spoke as she came through the brush, and then stopped as she observed what was before her. Oh. Oh. Glistening in the sun, wet with creek water, was a centaur man with an impressive build and hair that looked like it was begging for touch. She grinned, and finished off her thanks, now full of a little extra oomph: "Merci."
She raised her hands to show she was unarmed, the bow on her back untouched. And she moved closer to him, her wood elf hair too heavy to catch the breeze that chilled her skin. Suddenly, Violet forgot that her vision was clouded, and pretended instead that the centaur man was just so beautiful that the world was a romantic swirl around him. She pulled her empty canteen from her pack and shook it a bit to show her intent as she moved closer - just to his side where the creek bubbled. "My my my. Never 'ave I seen such a one as you, mon amie. Where be your 'erd?"
Post by Nikolai Swiftwind on Nov 30, 2016 17:55:17 GMT -7
Nikolai lowered his bow so that while he was still holding it, it was facing the ground. He wanted to trust the elf would stick to the agreement but was not prepared to fully disarm in case she was a liar and this was actually some sort of elven trap or ambush. Elves and Centaurs had a fairly decent relationship as they often traded with each other, but he knew that there were some elves that thought more lowly about his people than others and especially given recent circumstances he was reasonably wary.
The woman spoke her strange words again as she stepped out of the trees and he watched her show her empty hands. She hadn't even drawn the bow that rested on her shoulder, so Nikolai removed the arrow from his bow to show he was also not intending to attack. He held them both loosely in one hand and raised his eyebrows when the woman paused upon seeing him and said the last word a little differently from the rest. He wondered if she had ever seen a centaur before, as she seemed surprised.
She took out a canteen and shook it to indicate it was empty before walking over to the stream to fill it. As she did so, she answered his earlier question by admittting she had never seen someone like him before, and asked where his herd was. He clicked his tongue at the word choice but it didn't appear to be malicious. "My tribe is far from here. I have left them to search for someone." He didn't want her to think he had been kicked out of the tribe or left behind because he couldn't keep up, but he also didn't want to divulge his life story to a stranger or risk the safety of his tribe. "Some of your words are foreign to me, but my tribe has traded with people who speak like you."
Post by Violet Macar on Nov 30, 2016 18:20:37 GMT -7
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"Ah! Excusez-moi... Pardon me. Tribe," She filled her canteen and drank from it, revelling in the refreshment. She hung onto search for someone as she did, hardly listening to the rest of what he said. Searching for someone meant desire. Desire meant desperation. Desperation meant story. Her brain immediately began to imagine who he could be searching for. Perhaps a wife, or husband, or a less attached lover. A child? No... He did not seem old enough for children. But then again, she had never met a centaur. Ah, she decided, he was searching for his lost love. They had left in the night in search of answers, and never returned despite every promise they made. All this beautiful centaur man had left of them was a locket. No, not a locket. A dried flower? Ick, no. A note? Did centaurs even write? Hm... She looked up at the bird circling as she drank, her eyes aching from the bright light. It had been there for a while... Was it his?
Oh. Oh yes.
All he had left was her pet bird. The bird that had returned to him, begging for him to split away from his tribe to find her. It was romantic. The canteen emptied again, and she gave a satisfying 'ah' before stooping to refill it once more. She was very interested now. "'Oo are you searching for? I 'ave seen much of te world. Per'aps I can 'elp. Hm?"
Post by Nikolai Swiftwind on Nov 30, 2016 18:39:58 GMT -7
The woman corrected herself and apologized (well, it sounded apologetic) when he called them his tribe, Then proceeded to fill her canteen and drink the entire thing. She must be quite thirsty. He wondered how long it had been since she had been near a source of water. It was interesting to think that on his travels there may be times when he too would be so far from water that by the time he reached it he would drink entire canteens full. Perhaps he should trade for more waterskins, just in case.
She looked to the sky and seemed to focus for a moment on Anna, who had begun circling protectively when she had stepped out of the forest, but then knelt and filled her canteen once more. She asked him who he was looking for and offered her assistance as she proclaimed she had seen much of the world. Nikolai shifted on his hooves, considering the offer and the possibility that she could in fact help him. It couldn't hurt to tell her, right? He would need as much help as he could get in his quest to return the young kings. "Two moons ago I returned from scouting to find that kidnappers had magicked my tribe to sleep and stolen the younglings while I was away. Seven were taken, including my sister Maja, and I have set out to find them and their kidnappers."
Post by Violet Macar on Nov 30, 2016 18:55:31 GMT -7
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Kidnappers.
Magical kidnappers.
Magical kidnappers took his sister.
Oh! Kutsal was smiling on her! Celena was smiling on her! Oh hell, the whole damn array of Gods were smiling on her. The story was far more interesting than she could have dreamt! She did not smile, keeping her joy locked deep within her, so as not to seem insensitive - or worse, involved. Now instead of a passing fancy for the gossip column, this was a story that could break her into something new. Something exciting. The damned front page, if she had a say in it.
She decided in that moment that she would help this centaur man. Centaur horse? Or just centaur? Whatever they preferred to be called, she would do all in her power to help. And by help, she of course meant, follow around and track the story. Publicity was help in its own way. People would be more willing to divulge information if they knew they could be painted as helpful heroes on the path to righteousness!
But first. She had to act surprised, and sympathetic. "Zoot alors!" She shook her head in shock and dismay at what he told her, and the canteen dropped from her hands. "Oh, oh!" She quickly collected it before it could get itself lost down the creek, and popped the cork in tight. "Zat is te saddest ting I ever heard. Seven young souls! Stolen! Zat is just the evil of evil! I must elp you. I cannot bear te thought of you struggling on your own! My 'art, my 'art!" She held the canteen to her heart dramatically, her hand on her forehead as if she might faint. In a moment she was serious again, gesturing sharply with the canteen - "Mon amie, mon amie, never fear. For I have just what you need."
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