Tristan opened his eyes.. yet saw nothing. He felt like he'd been hit on the head. Only then he recalled the strange incident of a few moments ago. Had they been under attack or was this some strange magic at work?

He started to sit up and realised that he wasn't in the woods at their camp anymore nor wasn't it night. His hands brushed through high grass of a meadow of some sorts. And Tristan started to doubt his sanity when he heard the soft sound of waves. But he knew that his senses didn't betray him for he smelled the salty air.

Where am I? Von? Tristan? Tristan heard the panic in Eavan's voice. "I'm here Eavan" Tristan answered as calm as possible. "I don't know where we are, but I am sure that this isn't Aden." His hand searched nervously for his cane. He needed it.. "Has anyone seen my cane?" he asked realising that where ever they were now, he was dependent of others, which was a horrifying thoughts to him.

"Listen.." Tristan said, suddenly lowering his voice to a whisper. "There are other people around here."

_________________


O children, lift up your voice, lift up your voice,
Children, rejoice, rejoice..



It doesn't matter you don't believe in God, He believes in you.

Ryairon was satisfied to see that her words had provoked some measure of rational thinking, though most of them still looked as bemused as she was. A few more of the unconscious ones had begun to stir. Someone toward the back of the group made a comment on insanity. She couldn't agree more. The stinging bug bite on her jaw, however, told a different story. If insanity ever trapped her in her own happy place, bug bites would be outlawed. Especially now since it'd begun to ooze.

The masked figure unmasked himself, and Ryairon jumped at the first glimpse of pointed ears. Her eyes widened. "Elf?" she demanded, for he didn't resemble any elf she'd ever seen. Her glance darted to the fiery-haired war mage, who had his glaive out and looked unconcerned. Now that she thought about it, she didn't know anyone - mage or not - with his... aura. Utterly confident, almost divine. Then there was the woman who'd just slipped in - the one with the wings. And did the other girl just call herself a dragonrider?

"My name is Ryairon." She paused. No flickers of recognition. No surprised murmurs of "my lady." Swallowing her apprehension, she turned to the fiery-haired man and replied, with a toneless laugh, "Approachable? Are fat merchants or cowardly innkeepers approachable? We could question them. We could ask to borrow their boats. But transportation is useless without a map, isn't it?" She paused again and chewed on a different line of thought. Remarkable. Stupid, even, to speculate. Still, she might as well try.

"Where are all of you from?"

_________________

When the masked man, who called himself Xarw took off his mask, Vincent wasn't supprised to find that he was right. The man wasn't human. But he certaintly didn't look much like an elf, either, with the exception of his ears.

He was brought out of thought when a woman with a bug bite on her cheek spoke up, saying her name was Ryairon. By her expression it was as if she was expecting something that didn't happen at the mention of her name. Did that mean she was a noble in her world?

So so far there was a mage with a fancy glaive, a dragonrider, a man that he wasn't sure what he was, and a few noble. Oh, and was that a bard standing there in the background with a small dragon? Oh, and look, a strange girl with wings. This was certaintly becoming an interesting throng of people. Vincent decided he'd best introduce himself.

"I am red druid Vincent Kurusamno of Crystila," he said, with a quick nod. His head was still a little dizy, so that was why he didn't bow like he usually did. "And didn't you say that those people didn't speak this language, but some other tounge?"

~~~~

Vondell listened intently to the group of people. To him their talk just seemed to be going in circles, and they weren't getting very far. Introductions, questions on where they were, talk about a fishing village, oh, and now they needed a map. Wasn't that obvious to begin with?

But of course at first everyone thought they were in their own world, or this was all just insanity. No, it was all too real for it to be that. Then Von got a great idea, what if someone in the village had a map? And if no one there spoke their language, couldn't the druid or the mage conjure up some transelation spell or something?

Vondell was about to speak up when Nelnya tugged on his ear.
Some one called your name. It was the Wolfen girl, her voice said in his head.

Where?

Behind you in the forest... the blind one is there, too, that was Tristan and Eaven. They were here, too? With a glance at the miscrient group, he set off through the jungle. It wasn't long before he tripped over something long and hard. A closer inpection showed it was Tristan's cane. Grabbing it quickly, he moved forward.

Just ahead, Von her Tristan whispering that other people were here to Eavan. A moment later the man was in site.
"I know others are here. There is a group of souls that are as lost as we are about where we are," he said, touching Tristan's hand with the end of his cane. "And... Eavan's here, too... right? Nelnya said she was."

_________________

(}--{)Imagination Inspires Ideas -Zandain(}--{)
Married Cloud Strife 9/17/08

"Vondell!" Tristan said in surprise, relieved to find his cane. "Thank you." He got on his feet and brushed off his clothes, breathing in deeply.
"Yes, Eavan is here. Close. She called to us. But tell me quickly, where are we?" In his voice was an eager tone, eager to know, to see.

_________________


O children, lift up your voice, lift up your voice,
Children, rejoice, rejoice..



It doesn't matter you don't believe in God, He believes in you.

Some other tongue? Raign was instantly aware of the fact that everyone standing there spoke the same language, but rather than finding the fact enlightening, she only followed its train of thought to a dead end. The same language. Calculating, she glanced from side to side. The tall, alien, ebony-skinned man - except he was not a man - was no race she'd ever seen. The one who'd spoken earlier, he with vividly distinctive red hair, had an aura from which Raign's instinct told her to stay far away. He was not human, either.

She stored the problem away to be dealt with later, turning her thoughts back to the present in time to hear the tail end of Ryairon's question. Raign debated inwardly, briefly entertaining the notion that she should conceal her nationality, but it wasn't as though she stayed anywhere very long. "The Jewel Isles," she replied abruptly, folding her arms. "Off the southeastern edge of the Naryan Empire's borders."

Then, on a whim - perhaps wondering if anyone recalled the fragments of a shattered nation - she added, "My father was Imarna, King of the Isles and Lord of House Terhin." Raign didn't allow herself to dwell on that was. It had been years. Now, in any case, she had as good as shouted her identity. If any cared to bring up a grudge against a ruling house long deposed, she would meet them.


Merrin wasn't sure what to make of the glaive-carrying man's reaction to her introduction. "Aye," she started to say, bemused. "I was knighted -" but he had already begun to speak to someone else. She broke off, listening to the collective snatches of conversation she could catch.

With a jolt, she assimilated Raign's words, feeling violently out of place. That empire was one she'd never heard of, but King of the Isles. The woman was not dressed as a princess might have been, but from what Merrin knew, it didn't make her any less so - who, then, might the others be? One young man wore a thin circlet of gold, she noticed. Anxious, she scanned the others. Was the black-skinned man an elf? That was stuff of legend - and what of the imperious young woman opposite Raign Terhin?

Wishing more than ever for Wyvern, and feeling mounting worry knot in her stomach, Merrin swallowed uneasiness. "Vryngard," she added, quietly. "It's the Renegade capital - north and west of Port Dragonhelm -" but nobody's face lit with recognition. She fell silent.

_________________

Gramsil felt like he had slept for a hundred years. For all he knew, he might have. His last memory was an encounter with a dead elf, a Chosen one. He had drained the elf's magic, and suddenly he had heard whispers and seen visions. Then all went black.
But now he was awake once more, the bright sun shining on his face. All around him were strange trees, and the air was heavy and moist. He stretched to his full height, turning cautiously to look for any other beings. He could taste magics, some small and some large, some harmless and some less than kind. Reluctantly, he set out in the direction of the smells. The shriek of some foreign bird was more proof of others, and Gramsil needed answers. Carefully clipping a path through jungle with razor-sharp diamond claws, he at last reached the edge of the trees, and the start of ocean. Humans, elves, and other creatures? He paused, shrinking back almost out of sight. The last time encounter with elves had resulted in some very unmasculine squeals soon followed by dangerous spells. The behemoth doubted others would react any less kindly, and there were some very potent magics emanating from a few of the beings.

Kith riegned in his ragged breaths. This place, this situation, was utterly forein. He was baffled as how to handle it. People around him spoke of thier home towns that were unfamiliar to him, of countries, kings, and empires he had never even heard of. They were all strange.
"My name is Kith." He said warily. " I was a resident of the Lower District of Noringates, under the Empire of Gerad, that is, until I was summoned here. Is no one here native to this land?"

*joining after frantic discussion w/ LDM, melda, potr*

Name: English Name-Alanna Yeh
Chinese Name-Yeh Hwei Ling
Gender: female
Race: human
Age: 24
Profession: Engineer
Appearance: Height-5’4’’
Weight-105 lb
Characteristics-Straight, jet-black hair to just below shoulder blades, usually rolled and pinned against her head. Short, wiry, aggressive nature but highly controlled. Friendly but sophisticated manner. Black eyes and Asian skin.
Equipment/weapons: Martial arts afficionado: Tae Kwon Do, Judo, Bersilat, and Escrima, among others. Relishes problem-solving and anything mechanical or energetic, especially munitions. Has training on several types of plasma rifle. Also plays violin. Carry knife of choice: folding framelock.
Brief history/other*: Education-Secondary school: Singapura Academy; University: Stanford-Wells University, B.S. Mechanical Engineering, B.A. Cultural Studies; Graduate School: Massachusetts Regional Institute of Technology, M.S. Mechanical Engineering
Personal Details-Born and raised in Singapura (Oceania-Asia region). The only thing that shares her passion for engineering and technology is the martial arts; the Agency utilizes both. No siblings, parents living in Singapura.
Description of original universe: This was for Ellie's Rift in Time RP: futuristic universe, with space stations and alien invaders and such.
How you came up with this character: an adaptation of a CIA agent charrie that I had in two earlier RPs. Because there weren't enough Asians. Or engineers.

Will post after I have actually read through things.

_________________


<center>Nothing but the Rain</center>

((Who was your post directed at, Nauriel?))

_________________

So. This was ... interesting. Very interesting. And Alanna Yeh wasn't sure she liked it.

It had been a relatively normal day; just some routine diagnostics for the Portal - yes, the top-secret device housed in the moon base. Its time- and space-warping characteristics aside, it was just a piece of very sensitive equipment. And her baby.

Brent, from Subsystems Analysis, had been arguing with her as she stood in front of the Portal, hooking her tablet into one of its data ports. He'd been trying to convince her to come on another Habs for Humanity build - which she couldn't, as she had to run a Tae Kwon Do belt test that weekend - when that familiar whoosh had swept through the room. She'd jumped back -

Obviously not fast enough.

There was grass. And palm trees, and a bright, pale blue sky shimmering over air that was warm and moist. And slightly salty.

There were also other people, prone as well, so she decided she'd better lie low. With the Portal, one could never tell. And how on earth was she going to get back? She had no homing device... A voice, or rather a familiar word, cut through her thoughts.

"And why is there an ocean next to a park in LA?"

LA. Okay. She knew where she was now. As long as it wasn't the early twentieth century, with its notorious lack of communications devices, she'd been lucky.

Alanna stole a quick peek from under her closed eyelids. The most motley assortment of people, most straight out of fantasy novels or virtual reality games, eyed each other uncertainly. So... Interesting. She watched them for a long while, most of their conversation being whipped away by the breeze and other ambient noises. The sun, oddly enough, was making her slightly sleepy -

"Ow!" She leapt up with a half-shriek, hopping madly as she struggled to tear off her boot. "Frikkin' little - ahh! Get out of there -!"

The red ants, who had discovered one of her ankles and were proceeding blithely down into her sock, scurried off, but not without leaving a few mementos of their visit.

And she'd drawn a heck of a lot of attention to herself. "Um, hi," she tried, with a little half-wave. She was still half bent over, too, rubbing at the inflamed ankle with her other hand - and trying not to overbalance. "Ants."

_________________


<center>Nothing but the Rain</center>

Xarw couldn`t, but smirk at their unnerved gazes and acting, he even threw glance straight at the man in the robes, who held his glaive close at hand. It might get ugly, if the man proved violent, true mages were not excelled in close combat yet that glaive might keep him back a bit. So he would have to sidestep the man and rush for the kill whilst restraining the glaive by it`s shaft. In any case, that at the moment did not appear relevant as the newly arrived woman stood in quiet wonder and inquired about his heritage.

Mainly due to his pointed ears, at least they knew what an elf was, but he had a good hunch they knew nothing of the drow, at least his back would be safe for a while unless they were putting up a very well played act. Xarw faked smile for her and nodded politely.

"Yes, indeed I am, how courteous of you to point, that out."

Yet then his attention was caught by the continuing conversation as the question of their place of origin came up, not that Xarw minded them asking as it seemed perfectly reasonable yet as he looked back he saw a dark pit of hell, that was his past. The place of countless horrors and stories, that only seemed to exist in the stories of men and other races above. A place, that was more cruel than a thousand orcs ever could be and as unforgiving as the queen spider, Lolth, the most powerful of the fallen Seldarine(elven gods in FR). Yet these people knew nothing about, that so he might as well tell them a few things yet not give away too much. They might be shocked at the cruelty of his life and methods, no human in their righteous mind would ever let something, that wicked crawl to the surface.

"Naryan Empire, The Jewel Isles, Vryngard? I have never heard of such a place exist in Faerun nor am I familiar with these renegades. Might they be somewhere near the sea of the fallen stars? Yet as my theory seems to be proving correct, you are not aware of what kind of an elf I am and it seems to be my abnormal skin color, which unsettles you. Ah the prejudice I must confront in the world above...

My... hmh, my original home, the city of Menzoberran lies in the Underdark, a huge network of underground caverns, that stretches far and wide below Faerun, not ringing any bells I see...

Well not that it matters, I care not to return to that place of deceit and matriarchal tyranny despite having a few spending centuries down there."

Xarw said with a faint smirk on his face yet there was a certain type of fear still emanating from his eyes and speech as he recalled the few times he had almost been done in by a priestress of Lolth. Not a pleasant experience, the living snake whips and all that, a painful memory of bite marks still scarred his back.

_________________

Let him curse my name
On these blood stained pages of misery
Let him call me a tyrant so cruel
Let him curse my name, but remember the truth!

Kayne finally managed to stand upright without the help of his staff, though his head still throbbed out a steady beat like the bass drum of a polka band. Note to self, he though, teleporting off a bike going in excess of a hundred miles per hour is a very bad thing. He scratched his head, trying to figure out where he was. Perhaps one of the realms of the Nevernever (parallel universe occupied by the faeries). That would make the most sense for him, but why would there be all these people who looked like they just came from a Renaissance fair be here. ‘Course, he really couldn’t say anything about how people dressed as many people told him his duster belonged on a set of El Dorado or in a museum on some Western folk hero.

The magic also felt…strange. Magic came from life, so no matter where on Earth Kayne was, it should feel the same. Even if he were in the Nevernever, the magic would feel the same. But it didn’t fell right. Which meant that he definitely wasn’t on Earth any more, and it looked like none of these people were on their home planets either. And one of them was a dragon rider. Which, he supposed, was possible on her world. On his, a dragon would eat you if you even though of riding one of them, much less dared to do so.

Kayne was still pondering when he finally realized the man standing next to him had removed his mask, making it obvious to all that he was not a man. In fact, he looked quite like similar to a ghoul. Instinctivly, Kayne began to gather power in his staff, setting the runes carved along its length smoldering in a red glow. His rational mind quickly caught up with his instincts and he slowly diffused the power into the environment. No ghoul would be so stupid to show themselves unless they were going to attack, and this…being wasn’t attacking. Best not to vaporize someone who may help me get off this island, Kayne though.

“I’ve never heard of any of those places either, though I haven’t heard of Faerun before in my life either,” Kayne said. “And for some reason, I doubt you’ve all heard of Earth; specifically the Los Angeles in the United States? Ringing any bells? Didn’t think it would, but worth a shot.”

_________________
Four Gods wait on the windowsill,
Where once eight Gods did war and will,
And if the Gods themselves may die,
What does that say for you and I?

Now, three Gods wait on the windowsill
Where one God's blood was lately spilled
While black tongues lap at the spreading pool
And build the strength they need to rule.

((That was directed at your character, Melda, but sorry, I misread some of the last posts. I edited my last post. This Rp is going so fast, I can't keep my head strait ))

"The place unkown," Von replied to Tristan. "I heard someone talking about a transeportation spell. They all seem to be from different world. No one know eactly where we are, accept some tropical island."

Von kept glancing around, hoping to spot Eavan in the brush.
"Eavan!" he called out. Nelnya lept off his shoulder and disapeared, reappering here or there, helping to look for the Wolfen.

~~~~~~

Vincent made note where each person said they came from. None of them were familiar, and no one else seemed to know the names others said.

Then there was the man in the mask. To Vincent the man, what ever he was, was acting very suspicouse. Like he kept hinting that he was on the wrong side of justice, like he had a past that he didn't want others to know. Well, his motions and words didn't help him...

_________________

(}--{)Imagination Inspires Ideas -Zandain(}--{)
Married Cloud Strife 9/17/08

Thud. Mikol grimaced as a boulder barely missed the building he was in. Crash. Well, it won't miss every time. Curse those blasted Enlightened. It was their ignorance and ambition that caused this. The poor people didn't care who was in power so long as they could go about their farms and crafts without interference. It was only those select few - those such as Mikol - who knew the whole of the political situation or actually cared. The Enlightened would make the people of Jharani miserable. They'd use their powers, ostensibly for good purposes, but instead would be lining their pockets and slowly making slaves of the rest of the country. He'd fight it. And so here he was, stuck in the cellar of a building while catapults flung large chunks of doom toward him.

"Ah, I think we had better leave while there's still a passage," Aligher yelled over the din.

"There's a back way, over there," Mikol nodded. He started to head that way when one particularly loud-sounding boulder landed just a few feet feet away. The impact threw him to the ground and he knew no more.

Birds? There weren't any birds in Jharani during the winter. But those were most definitely birds. And sunshine. He had gone weeks without feeling that warmth, especially in the magnitude of the heat now hitting his face. Even the Enlightened couldn't change the weather, could they? A gentle wind brought the smell of salt, a distant memory of splashing in an ocean when he was young. Curious now, Mikol opened his eyes and sat up. Or at least, he tried. Pain blinded him, his head spun, and before he knew it had lost all of his meal from the - day? Night? Morning? - before. He groaned.

The wind carried not only the salty ocean air, but also a murmur of voices. Now able to open his eyes, Mikol saw two small, dark children staring wide-eyed at him. They were speaking some language unknown to him. Thanks to being sick, Mikol felt a bit better. He was able to lift his head and glower at the children. Their curiosity turned to fear, and they ran along a worn path to a small hut. Where was this place?

He thought he had spoken aloud as a very echo of this thought traveled through the air. The voice, though, was that of a woman. Looking in the opposite direction than the one the children had run, Mikol's mouth dropped open. A large, varied, and extremely confounded looking group of people was congregated just off to his left. And it looked like they were planning on heading his way.

-------------------------------------------------------------

"Ash!" Jate stared, dumbfounded, as he saw a familiar face. He soon recovered and clapped Ash on the back. "I can't believe it! Do you-" He was cut off by the arrival of new people, including an oddly skinned elf and a strange...well, he didn't quite know what it was. Jate was about to make a comment when he realized he knew the voice in his ear and the arm around his shoulder.

"Kjan! My my, we just seem to be growing all the time. What, no Phaerin around to get you into trouble?" With mock innocence. "I'm sure we will stay the picture of health and contentment then."

He realized the others were now speaking about ships and villages and that introductions were being offered. The strong willed woman said her name - Ryairon - and seemed to wait for a reaction. Jate gave a small smile. Apparently, she was of some importance in her world. He removed the gold circlet, showing he was of some importance as well, from his head.

"I guess this doesn't mean much here then," he said with a shrug. "Though at home is warrants quite a reaction. Jateyani Ralkain, of Kytana." He reached out his hand to the others. "And as for boats and villages, it might be good to see what that place has to offer." This was accompanied by a nod off to his right.

_________________
going on a journey through my old claims

Ryairon listened to them rattle off introductions and was scowling within the first thirty seconds. Crystila. Kytana. Vryngard. Underdark... did he mean Underworld? Jewel Isles... the woman was nobility - royalty even. Then... Earth.

Suddenly it snapped. Earth was a world of legend, a world estranged from the other magical worlds created by the One. Suppose the One had created other worlds? Worlds the Dark Dominion had no knowledge of? The phenomenon made perfect sense now that she studied the outlandish garments more closely. She shook her head, astonished that the notion had never occurred to the mages of Dyrcil Araelia.

"Has anyone heard of interworld travel? Scars between worlds?" she wondered, deciding to throw the idea out and see what others thought of it.

_________________