Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » We Unlucky Few | CLOSED

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[Loose fantasy and world; develop as you go, do whatever you want with your characters.. Have fun!!]

Strange things happen in this world of ours. But nothing quite as strange as this.
It seems like everyone is gone. The towns are left deserted where they stand. Nothing is broken. It's as if everyone just vanished. Except for you... You unlucky few.
In a small town, a house has been set ablaze, acting as a beacon, for you and who knows what else. Perhaps it's worth investigating.


Ver stood in front of the fire he'd started. The town was silent except for the crackling and snapping as the house began to crumble. He felt bad for this mass arson, but it seemed like nobody was using it anyways. Carrying a travelling bag on his shoulder and a sword on his hip, he surveyed the area. Surely there was SOMEONE to see the fire and come running.

(May I?)

Aybilla strode through the small village, puzzled by her strange predicament. Everyone was gone. Vanished. Suddenly. It was a little unsettling, really. The streets were so erie. Where once they were bustling they now were emptier than her stomach had been last night. ‘What has happened to everyone’ she wondered to herself. Hopefully she hadn’t missed a memo about a disease or whatever other reason there could be for a mass evacuation.
Looking around for clues, she saw a thick plume of smoke rising into the sky on the other side of the village. Too excited about having a clue, she hardly thought to consider what the fire could be from, and whether or not it could be dangerous. ‘Please let it be another person’ she thought as she took off at a sprint.

She arrived at the scene of the burning building slightly out of breath, her quarterstaff held ready for anything. There she saw the most beautiful thing she had seen all day; another person. A burly man with a bag and a sword standing before the flames. Alone. She could assess the situation possibly, but it would be simpler for them all if she just asked. “Did you start this fire?” She called to him.

Sol grunted as he woke up to a sound he hadn't heard in quite some time. Silence. Quickly he scrambled to his feet and drew his sword from his belt, the mirror-like blade reflecting his disheveled brown hair and amber eyes. Looking around, he noticed he was in a seemingly empty village; an unnerving sight to behold to him, as he was used to seeing crowds of people in the streets. As he started down the barren village, he couldn't help wondering what had happened. The last thing he remembered was falling asleep under a tree in a place he knew well, but to his surprise, this village was completely unfamiliar to him. After what seemed to be mere seconds of travel, he spotted a great column of smoke rising up from a house elsewhere in the village. His head was filled with the thought of seeing other people once again, freeing him from the eerie emptiness of this small town. Sol returned his sword to his sheath and set out at a quick pace.

Upon his arrival to the seen, Sol saw a massive pyre of a once great house lit ablaze, billowing smoke into the distant sky. Standing in front of this massive fire he saw a muscular looking man carrying a bag and what appeared to be a sword at his waist. Walking up from the side, he noticed that there was another person walking up to the blaze, who appeared to be a girl, wielding what appeared to be a quarterstaff. He once again drew his sword in case he needed to fight, and heard the girl say something, but was unable to make out what it was. His golden armor gleamed in the fire light, and his sword reflected the image of the two others.
"Hello? What's going on?!" Sol called to them, his voice hard, yet gentle and inviting at the same time.

(You may! Thanks, both!)

Ver turned at the first sound he heard of the lady. Immediately, a smile bloomed on his face, white teeth against dark skin. He tipped his head in greeting, but before he could say anything, another voice called out. Ver didn't appear to be bothered by the presence of either of their weapons, and his sword stayed comfortable on his hip. "Wow," was the first thing he said. His smile returned for both of them and he lifted a hand. "Well, I hope you're both as relieved as I am!" The house continued to burn behind him, reflecting off the scales on his shoulders and casting him almost as a silhouette. He hoped this place didn't belong to either of them.

Sol walked up to the man in front of the burning building, and sheathed his sword as he did so. He stopped a safe disrance from the mysterious stranger who held the bag.
"I believe that I personally am more confused than anything. Is this your house? And- do you know where we are?" He replied to the man's inquiry, standing nonchalantly about 20 feet away in case anything were to happen.

Aybilla gave a soft grin back to the dark man and began to come in closer to talk, when she saw the other man arrive at the scene, probably drawn by the same thing as she. Two other people now; that's a good sign. Right? She steadily ventured forward and could hear the newcomer ask about what was going on. 'Wouldn't we all like to know. Does he mean the house, or the town...?' Aybilla thought, taking in his golden armor and sword and deciding he did not seem a danger. So, she finished her course to the two strangers. She stood the length of her quarterstaff away from the first man, who's scales on his shoulders captivated her.
She listened to the man-in-gold's questions before throwing her own comments, nodding her head.
"I agree about being confused. Maybe curious and unsettled. It is good to see a few other faces, but this place was full of people last night when I came into town. Everything seemed normal then." She raised her gaze to the structure engulfed in flames. "Will it spread to the other buildings?" she wondered out-loud.

(Hoping it's okay to join since the listing is Open! If not, just lemme know and I'll be sure to wipe the post. ^^)

It's hard to know exactly where she came from, or even what she had been doing prior to everyone vanishing so suddenly. Stubbornly clinging to the illusion that all this is temporary. It just has to be! With so many troublesome portals in existence, a more severe kind just has to be held responsible. Despite everything, the young lady's attire remains rather formal indeed. A layered gown of green with black fur lining such long sleeves. Slippered feet hidden from view given the clothing's great length. A charming bow is hung over large wings, while a wide satchel swings gently against one hip with each step.

Finally, a handsome black lion walks along at her side. She honestly freezes at the sight of smoke, lids widening around crimson eyes. Hands gloved in white soon grasp at the skirts of her gown, allowing her to sprint quickly through the empty streets of this seemingly empty town. Thankfully, she at least slows down once people are in line of sight, hoping she doesn't startle anyone with this giant lion at her side. Carabia pauses only to try and catch her breath before calling over. "Hello, everyone!"

Sol was getting preparing to say something to the girl before he heard someone call out from beside them. He spun around to see a majestic looking girl that reminded him of a demonic princess. Upon seeing the blac lion at her side, he jumped and instinctively drew his sword, Mirror's Edge.
"Hello? Are you friendly?"

"Not my house," Ver confirmed somberly. That sorrow didn't exactly clear when he added, "but, I can handle it; it won't be spreading any time soon. And the town's name is Fallmage - I take it you're not a local?"
He turned at yet another voice and felt himself practically melt in relief. This destroyed house wouldn't be for nothing - he certainly wasn't alone anymore. He didn't seem put off by her lion - something about this out-of-breath lady wasn't all that intimidating. He smiled in greeting, lifting a hand. "Morning." Such a mundane phrase was uttered with some sort of humour.

Sol took a quick glance back at the man, confused as to how he was so calm in this situation.

The Hanged Man was walking west. He always walked west--in rain and sun, misery and joy, peace and strife. He walked west now in a calm that bordered on loneliness, for though he was used to going great lengths of time without seeing another person, this was different. No one on the street, no one in the market; so when the Hanged Man saw the plume of smoke rising out of the village, he adjusted his westward course and headed there instead. It might not have been manmade, he knew, but somethimg about it drew him.

The wandering swordsman felt shivers reach up his spine at the sight of the town. It felt as if it was inhabited only by ghosts. Doors were left open and clothes still dried on the line. The Hanged Man warily watched every shifting shadow and narrow alley as he approached the blaze.

Even though he had been expecting it, the sight of people still startled him. He was a disheveled man wearing a long whitish cloak over blackened half-plate, his dark blond hair mostly free from the topknot it was once tied into. He had sunken features, and a falchion rode in a leather baldric that hung from a shoulder, mostly obscured by his cloak. Most prominent, perhaps, was the large shield strapped over his back. "Hail," he said, voice raspy from lack of use. His green eyes set upon each of them in turn, lingering lengthily upon Sol. His heart rose into his throat at the sight of such a man--at his eyes, his regal bearing. Instinct took over and he bowed deeply, not rising nor speaking again until Sol permitted him to.

Sol watched as the man cloaked figure approach, watched his off-white cloak dance in the fire light. There was something about this newcomer that seemed familiar. Maybe it was the shield, or maybe the dark armor under his cloak, but this man looked like a warrior, a soldier, one that wouldn't have been out of place in the Euratrian Army from his kingdom. He heard the rugged man call out to them, and watched as he bowed down when they met eyes. King or not, he didn't like it when people bowed down to him. He responded;
"To Glory be of thee. At ease soldier; you may rise." He said almost instinctively.

Ver met Sol's eyes for the briefest moment before he caught sight of the newest wanderer. The exchange, though, seemed to put him more ill at ease than anything else so far. As Sol bid the Hanged Man to stand, Ver made a movement like he was about to kneel, but stopped himself. He spent a quick moment checking the fire, keeping it in check, then turned to fully face Sol. "I'm sorry - I don't believe I recognize you. Are you...?"

Sol turned back to the man at the fire, hearing his question.
"Oh dear, I'm deeply sorry. I'm no good at introductions." He said as he slammed his gleaming sword back into its sheath.
"My name is Sol, king of the Euratrian Kingdom, though I am fairly certain that that is not where we are." He stuck out his hand in an effort to shake hands with the man, smiling.

The cleric's attention was pulled away from the conversation by the coming of another girl followed by a great black lion. Her eyes opened in awe. A black lion, wings, a lovely green dress! Surely out of place for that little village, but a beautiful sight none the less. Crimson eyes, though. Aybilla was not very trusting of red eyes, and she shifted to hold her staff between them, trying to do it casually so as not to offend. The girl was out of breath, and seemed cheerful anyhow. No reason to start off on a bad foot. She gave her a nod in response to her hello.
Returning to the conversation being had, Aybilla gave the man with scales a look with a quiet "uh huh" about handling the fire. 'Handle the fire? Maybe he was some sort of castor or elemental. That would explain it.' She wanted to pry farther, but was distracted once more by another arrival! Even if the fire did spread, it was a good idea. People were flocking like moths to the light! As Aybilla looked at the disheveled, bowing man, she told the sclaed-man such.
"Mister.... uh... whatever your name is, good idea with this fire. Nothing brings people together like the hearth does."

The introduction seemed to genuinely fluster Ver; he seemed just about ready to kneel when Sol held his hand out. He kept grinning, though it went a bit crooked. He shook the king's hand; his own were warm and callused. "By the Gods, and I thought this day couldn't get any weirder. Ver Calder, sir- uh- your highness? Blacksmith. Uh- adventurer? Dragonslayer." He cleared his throat.
His attention was pulled by her statement and his eyes quickly flickered back to the fire. He turned towards it and exhaled, trying not to make a show of splaying his hands. The fire died down a bit. He turned back to Aybilla, grinned and nodded. "Yup. Nothing gets people's attention like a town house going up in a massive fire."

Sol watched the man as he introduced himself. Dragonslayer? Dragonslayers are cool. That would also explain the scales. He overheard Ver respond to the girl with the quarterstaff and chuckled.
"Isn't that the truth. Please, just call me Sol. I'm not very fond of people bowing down to me; that's not how I like to rule."

Now, being the careful observer she is, the young lady immediately glances towards the drawn sword, as well as the casual shifting of the lady's staff. Oh dear. Still, a little racism is nothing new at all, moreso given the disappearance of everyone around them. Because of their hesitant nature, she doesn't yet approach the growing group. Stood several feet away instead. "I apologise if we startled you." She begins gently, that long Scorpion tail curled upwards for comfort. "Yes, we are both friendly. I am Princess Carabia, of Tanbarune. This is Mister Dembala." A gloved hand lands upon the huge lion's black mane, to both gesture to him as well as pet the companion affectionately. Her smile both warm and reassuring, offering all a rather formal, though no less friendly bow of her head in further greeting. "It's just so wonderful to see that not all have vanished."

The Hanged Man rose from his bow with a low sigh of exhaustion. A king whose name meant sun in a dead tongue ... and those eyes. Those perfect amber eyes. The lowborn soldier tore his own away--it was not his place to stare into the eyes of a king.

He took another moment to inspect the others once again: a dragonslaying blacksmith, a woman with a staff, and an outlandish princess. And her lion. When the lattermost announced her royalty, the once-knight was quick to bow again, this one not quite so long or deep. His tired legs could only take so much, and his ruthlessly long life had tempered some of his subservience. Just a bit. "I-I have not seen another soul for ... for days." The faint stutter in his voice didn't befit his war-worn appearance. "Prithee--do any of you aught of what has trans-transpired in this hamlet here? T'is quiet as a lichyard ..."

Sol bowed to the princess, and stood rightly to befit for the aquantance of royalty. He turned his attention baxk to the man who had bowed to he earlier.
"Tis of thee, for I've not knowledge of the coarse of events prior to my awakening here. Perhaps Ver does...?" He said as he looked over to the dragonslaying blacksmith.