Lore of Leyuna RPG (FRPG)

[Murloc Tyrannus]

Icil smiled, watching as the warrior walked upstairs. The succubus then turned back to her audience.

"Anymore tales I should tell?"

[Godzilla Forever]

"Yes, please!" one of the patrons said.

"Tell us more!" "another shouted.

[Murloc Tyrannus]

"Recently, I went to a temple. It was just me and Rattlebones, and this was a very mysterious temple indeed. However, I didn't know that there was still inhabitants there..." Icil started...

[Godzilla Forever]

"What was there?" one of the patrons asked. "Was there a monster? A demon? Undead?"

[Murloc Tyrannus]

"A sort of guardian, actually. He deemed me as a demon, saying that my blood is taint. However, with a little persuasion, he let me explore the perimeter of the temple. I lack demonic qualities, despite the fact that I'm... a crossbreed, so to speak. All I have from my succubus traits are the horns and wings." she said, suddenly spreading out her black and scarlet wings on the words "succubus traits" as if her wings were a magician's cloak. "Other than that, I'm human."

[Godzilla Forever]

"That's good," the man replied.

"We don't need no more demons than we already have!" another added.

"So did you find anything interesting?" a young barmaid inquired.

[Murloc Tyrannus]

"'Interesting' wouldn't describe it enough. Just when I had thought my troubles had ended, a cockatrice swooped at me with its poisoned talons, nearly hitting my face. I can't imagine what would have happened if I got hit, from the speed of that thing, although it probably would have torn my face off from the force of impact and the sharpness of those talons." Icil replied, folding her wings behind her back slowly. "Rattlebones was probably taking a nap at the moment, so he couldn't help me."

[The Kingpin]

Septimus had soon entered the area of the camp occupied by the Abiru-Sahari. Unlike the Hukkamil-Birran, these were not elves. They were men. Rough, worn, grizzled faces wrapped in robes of brown, black and white dotted the campsite. leather straps and harnesses held their weapons in place, scimitars that looked sharp enough to cleave through flesh and bone alike, strapped to their sides, some armed with two. There were numerous multi-shot crossbows amidst their ranks, and a number of bows, as well as spears and axes. Unlike most of the factions he had encountered in the more temperate climes, the two Desert dwelling people seemed to markedly lack weapons like warhammers and heavy battle-axes. A few moments of pondering led the Scholar to the conclusion the heat of their native land would make such a weapon dangerously fatiguing to its wielder. In a land where fatigue meant death, this was clearly not an option.


Before long, Septimus caught sight of his destination. A large stall with weapons and armour, along with a variety of cloaks and coats, stood before him, an ageing man in black robes stood there, cleaning a crossbow that was given to him for maintenance. an eye patch covered one eye, from beneath which a large, jagged scar stretched down the side of his face. a short but thick beard, probably only about two inches long, wrapped round his notably angular jaw, and a closer look showed he was limping; most likely another scar of battle. The man glanced up at Septimus as he neared, gesturing for him to approach. "Let me guess. Your brethren told you you could get a Sahari singing blade from me and you believed them" grunted the man, his tone obviously one of mild amusement. "...Sahari singing blade?" asked Septimus, confused. "What hole did you crawl out of, lad? You don't know what a Sahari singing blade is?" asked the man in shock. Septimus shook his head. "It's the most dangerous sword wielded by the Abiru-Sahari tribe. This..." he said as he reached for the hilt of his sword, drawing it swiftly, the blade resonating with an audible hum as it was pulled from its sheath, the man flipping it in hand so that blade and grip landed on either hand. The hilt seemed to be of polished ebony, laced with silver filigree and inscribed in some language Septimus didn't recognise. the blade was long, thin and clearly very sharp, the blade's width taking a noticeable curve inwards along either end, leaving a narrow, thick metallic 'spine' down the middle of the blade, two razor sharp edges on its inside and outside edges, the curving blade laced with dark ripple-like patterns that seemed almost like they were formed of water. The man flipped it in hand so that its blade faced downwards, before sheathing it, the blade humming any time it moved through the air.


"That, child, is a Sahari Singing Blade. And no, I don't have them for sale. Only the most respected men in the tribe are gifted them by our chief, and only his personal blacksmith knows how to make them" said the man. "I was actually coming to ask about a Wirshah. Qa'id Antar Timeem told me you had them" said Septimus. "Ah. A young warrior, I see. Very well. I have a selection of them, with different enchantments. I have one that can resist the extremities of the heat and cold, and guard you from the edges of blades and arrows. Most of our battlemasters use this for an added edge. Arrows may still pierce your skin through this, but they're unlikely to go deep enough to cripple or kill you. Likewise for blades. some edges will be completely stopped against this material, and the rest, the ones that do cut, won't cut deep enough to cripple or kill you. Well, as long s you don't take too many blows to the same place" said the man as he gestured towards a collection of robes, pointing to an off-white one, which was almost the same shade of creamy white as his sword scabbard. "I have this one, which would guard you from arrows and poisons. This is usually used by the wealthier of our people, who have need to protect themselves from assassins. Like I said with the other coat, arrows may still pierce this, but they won't cripple or kill you unless you're either terribly unlucky or have already taken several hits to that spot. As for poisons, this cloak negates just about any poison you can suffer. On the downside, it's also impossible to get intoxicated with any kind of drink while wearing this. It just sucks out the alcohol like it does the poison" he said, pointing to a dark blue one. "And this one, which would deflect flames and fangs. Used mostly by our beast tamers. the flames wash over this like stone. As long as you don't expose it to the flames for too long, you'll be safe. As for fangs, it behaves like the others do with arrows and blades. Unless the fangs are razor sharp, they won't pierce it. It's generally recommended you wear some kind of plate armour underneath though, because some animals have such a powerful bite they don't even need the sharpness" he said as he pointed to a black and red robe.


After a few moments of thought, Septimus settled on the first. "The first one is probably the most ideal given the circumstances" said Septimus, the man nodding. "My thoughts exactly. I don't see you getting poisoned any time soon, and provided you stick to camp, the beasts out there should not be a problem" said the grizzled trader as he plucked the off-white cloak off the rack. Taking a closer look, Septimus noted some decorative stitching along the inside edge of the robe. It's interior was dark as night, the glow of the lantern over the stall revealing a very dark midnight blue within, looking almost uncannily like the clear night skies above the desert. A thick band of creamy white fabric lined the edges of the inside, resulting in the lapels of the coat being the same colour as the exterior, though the fine stitching decorating it was the same midnight blue colour as the darker part of the inside of the coat. Putting a hand on it, Septimus noted that it seemed somewhat warm to the touch, contrasting with the humid coolness of the air around them. It also felt tough and leathery on the outside, the faintest hint of a crocodilian hide-like pattern visible in the coat, too faint to see at a distance, though noticeable when in such close proximity. The coat seemed energised with the enchantments it was shielded with. He was certain of their effectiveness. "Will cost 50 gold" said the man as he eyed Septimus, pleased with the intrigue on the Scholar's face. "...40" responded Septimus as he looked up at him. "50 or you go without. We're at war and I need to maintain the cost of making these. I usually charge 100. So be thankful" said the old man firmly. Considering it, Septimus sighed, nodding. "Fair enough" he said as his eyes shimmered, the trader backing away as a hand reached for his blade, only to stop when a stream of gold coins floated from Septimus's satchel, piling on the table in front of the man neatly, much to the shock of the trader, and the few around them who had taken an interest in the dark elf's presence.

"Well that'll be the first time I was paid like that" said the trader as he eyed the gold, Septimus smirking as his eyes faded back to their natural colour. "You're not a normal dark elf, are you?" he said after a few moments as he began picking up stacks of the gold, placing it in a leather bag. "Took you long enough to figure it out, Jarrah" said Septimus with a smile. "I don't remember telling you my name" said the man as he stopped. "You didn't. But I overheard one of your friends mention it when they saw me approaching your stall" responded Septimus calmly. "An attentive one, aren't you? Well, I suppose its only fair that if you know my name, I should know yours, no?". "Septimus, of Clan Khulruud" responded the Scholar simply. "Clan Khulruu-....You're not of the Hukkamil-Birran" said the trader, suddenly becoming notably more hostile. "I am a shapeshifter. I was the one who informed Qa'id Antar of the threat. I'm the reason he called out to you for assistance" explained Septimus, the trader remaining sceptical. "What is your real form then? Man? Dwarf? Ork?" asked Jarrah. "Dragon. I chose this form because its more convenient for trading and moving around among humans, elves and other similar races" he said. "Then why bother with weapons and cloaks? Why buy this when your natural hide is so much stronger naturally?" asked Jarrah. "Why does a knight on horseback learn to fight on foot? What good is this form if its purely for moving among smaller races? Better to make it useful for when such situations arise" explained Septimus, Jarrah nodding understandingly. "I'm impressed, Dragon. I had thought you an ignorant boy when you first approached. It appears it is I who is ignorant" said Jarrah as Septimus put on the coat, getting used to its feel, finding it surprisingly comfortable and flexible in spite of the added weight.


"What if he's lying?" said one of the men sitting by a fire a few feet away from the stall. "Hold your tongue, boy. Has your father never taught you to respect guests?" warned Jarrah through a narrowed eye. "If you want proof, stand back. You and your friends around the fire. Make some space" responded Septimus as he looked over his shoulder, the men at the fire looking at eachother in surprise. Just how big was this so called Dragon? "Oh, don't mind them. That runt has too much tongue and not enough heart" said Jarrah. "He seems brave enough to risk it, it's only fair I oblige his challenge" said Septimus as he backed away from the stall, focusing his mind as the mana channelled along his limbs, the runes on his arms glowing brightly. "Move" he said as he turned to the young man, the soldier looking at his friends then back to Septimus, backing away a couple of feet. "I said MOVE" said Septimus, his voice notably louder, a guttural rumble in his voice that nearly made the man fall over in shock, his friends dragging him away a half dozen feet as Septimus's form was engulfed in smoky shadows, completely engulfing him as the Scholar's form transformed in seconds, his limbs extending, his neck growing as horns sprouted from his skull, his muzzle lengthening as wings sprouted from his back, the clothing seemingly dissolving into his skin as scales emerged in the place of the ebony skin he had moments ago, his size growing drastically as he finally ceased, the Hueilin Dragon standing before them, eyes shimmering white for a few moments before fading back to their cyan hue. Jarrah stood, awestruck, and several of the soldiers had backed away even further. "Convinced yet?" rumbled Septimus with a smirk, razor sharp fangs visible for a few moments on deep blue gums. Jarrah was left gasping as he laughed heartily, highly amused at the shock on the soldiers' faces. "Very impressive, Septimus. Very impressive. Perhaps now that whelp will learn not to doubt everything he hears" said Jarrah as he finally regained his composure, Septimus turning to face him, his form disappearing in shadows once more, soon returning to the elven form he had taken earlier. "Glad I could do something to improve your mood" he said with a chuckle, Jarrah laughing. "Indeed you have, my friend. Indeed you have. But I'm sure by now we've wasted enough of your time. It was a pleasure, Septimus. I hope to see you on the battlefield" said the middle-aged trader with a smile. "Or above it. Good luck, Jarrah. May the song of your blade be the last thing your opponents hear" said Septimus calmly as he shook the trader's hand, before heading back towards the area where Antar awaited him...

[Murloc Tyrannus]

Cyris awoke. The elf the surveyed her surroundings. Good, nothing had happened when she was asleep. Cyris then leaped from one branch to another, traveling the forest...

[Godzilla Forever]

"How did you escape from that monster?!" the barmaid asked.

[TyrannoTitan]

After a considerable time in utter silence, Jiier threw his legs up and forward, landing steadily on his feet. The simian looked down at the broken remains of the staff with an unreadable expression. Picking up the pieces, Jiier strode off into the forest at a slow pace, heading back toward the path leading up to the shrine.

[C S]

The energized Blood Omen raised himself from the ground and; with a swing of his free arm, sent the debris and litter that floated around him hurtling out into the brush. The rustling of plants and squeals of woodland creatures could be heard not too long after. With the clutter shed, Desrium moved along Jiier's trail a few feet in the air.

[Giratina93]

"Well, someone's gotta be able to understand you." Djinn said to Discord, in a friendly tone that made Guame raise an eyebrow. This was definitely an unexpected development... He hadn't expected for Djinn to get on friendly terms with someone like Discord...

[dinoman666]

"Not too many, though," Discord replied matter-of-factly. "Tarnishes my unpredictability..."

The massive Lizardmen army marched through the edge of the forest, pushing its way deeper. Unsurprisingly, their destination was the shrine, just like the previous group of cold-blooded sapients...

[Murloc Tyrannus]

"I was about to engage in combat against the beast, only for the cockatrice to get shot with a dart, which I assume was poisoned, seeing how the bird fell down almost instantly. Out of the foliage came these big and brutish lizardmen..." Icil answered.

[Godzilla Forever]

"How terrifying!" another barmaid interjected.

"Did they, too, try and harm you?" a patrona inquired.

[Murloc Tyrannus]

"Thankfully not. They however said, like the guardian, that they do not tolerate demons. They wanted me to leave the place, but before that I asked them a question: Why did they save me?" Icil replied, rubbing one of her horns with a finger as if she were thinking...

[Godzilla Forever]

"maybe they saw the good in you, but still distrusted you for your... appearence?" one patron suggested.

"It is rather odd," another said, "that those beings hated you, yet did not slay you on the spot... very odd indeed... but, it is good as well!"

[Murloc Tyrannus]

"Well, they were somewhat... how should I put it... simple. They were tribal creatures, and they answered my question, saying that I made an excellent distraction for the cockatrice." Icil said, her accent fluctuating some of the words in the sentences.

"And as for my appearance... I guess you're right. It's not every day you see a human with horns in wings and not think that she is a demon."

[Godzilla Forever]

"Tribal?" one of the barmaids thought aloud. "Now that you mention that, I think that I've heard of these lizardmen..."