A Festival to Remember - RP Repository

~~Twig Treeroot~~ (played anonymously)

The city was a juxtaposition of tension an jubilation. It was the day of the Grand Gala, a festival in celebration of the peace between the three factions. The three groups had slung magic at one another for decades, each one an equal with their own school of magic. The war mages, with their combative magics and armies of spectral warriors. The elemental mages, with their power over nature and battalions of elemental spirits. And the Clerics, with the power to heal and magical rituals, scores of summoned demons at their will. It took the rise of a third faction, the necromancers, to stop their quarreling. The hunger of the undead was unquenching. They did not tire, they needed no contract, all they needed was will and their masters filled them with the will to kill. Only being burned or ground into dust could kill them, for even when defeated their masters would only raise them again. They swept over the land and ravaged it. Humans, Fae Orcs, all fell to the hunger of the undead. No species, age, or gender was safe. All fell and were risen. Eventually the necromancers were defeated, but the end of one war acted as kindling for another. All sides had taken their losses, but none more then the non-magical humans. They were beginning to tire of their status. They had looked in envy of the mages that ruled their lands for so long. The gift of magic had over time became cultivated selfishly. Though it was possible for a child born of non-magical parents to be a mage it was rare. Magical families were rich and powerful. Even lesser mages were considered noble. And as the number of the non-magical in positions of power shrank, the tension grew. Putting the Capital city in its current place today.

Twig banged and rattled against the small cage he was trapped in, shouting in the melodic twinkling of fairy speech. No matter how hard he willed the iron of the cage nullified his magic and left him helpless. Finally he gave in and settled to the bottom of the cage, wings drooping and arms crossed.

He changed tactics. Switching to human speech he addressed his horseback captor. "Where are you taking me now you insufferable mage?! This is the third town yet but you haven't done anything with me except keep me in this miserable cage."

The nondescript merchant-mage weaved through the city streets. "Well bug, since I'll be rid of you soon I might as well tell you. This is the capitol city, Grand Gala, a festival. Word on the grapevine is that many noble mages pay handsomely for magical creatures. Some collect them and others dissect them. My thinking is how much gold can I get from selling one of the trickiest to capture creatures in the woods to a noble? I'd be rich, and better yet, rid of you." The merchant dismounted in a stable in, tossing the stable boy a few coppers to brush and feed the mount. He unhooked Twig's cage and made his way down the street, towards were sound of music came from. When the mage turned down the next street the cause was obvious.

The festival was in full swing, bands scattered the open area filling each corner with music. The place, normally a market, had been cleared for the various performers. The stalls had been moved to the edges, selling wares far fancier and expensive then what you would usually find. Entertainers dotted the area, dressing up in costumes and shouting merrily. Down the streets were more merriment. One was lined with taverns and bars, keeping the celebration well quenched with mead. Another street was lined with psychics and theaters. And all around masses of people from all species and walks of life roamed. Some ogled at wares, others wobbled drunkenly, and others danced or simply enjoyed the atmosphere. Occasionally, odd figures could be seen in the crowd, each wearing the same robes.

The mage that held Twig captive made his way down a row of stalls, stopping at one that was manned by a stone elemental. With a gesture and a few words the brute was banished, freeing the space for the merchant mage to sit. He placed the cage strategically on the counter top and began to restock it with magical items from an enchanted chest underneath the tablecloth. "Now be quiet fae or I'll tear off those pretty wings of yours"

Twig eyes the many festival goers, Unfortunately for him fairies were considered magical creatures rather then a race. While in some cities it was still illegal to sell or trade anything intelligent enough to talk, that was not the case in the capitol. "My name is Twig, you bothersome man, and I will not become some diagram on some mage's desk!"