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Legends of the Grimoires: A Semi-Open Community RP

brusque·11/14/2014, 2:53:33 AM·3 votes·1,388 views

http://imgur.com/T70lRKk (img is mine pls)

The undertow of Noxus never took lightly to strangers, which was good news for him. Jeir’ak had spent years watching how Noxians dressed, how they ate their soup, washed their clothes, tended to their sick. Though he’d been all around Runeterra and back again, it was Noxians that fascinated him the most, but he could never quite put his finger on why.

It might have been the way that he blended into the undercurrent that made him feel most comfortable. He moved down a dark alley filled shoulder-to-shoulder with revelers. Some were drunk; some were trying to get away from the drunk; some were trying to get drunk. But their state didn’t matter: what mattered is that they didn’t notice when he bumped into them, and so he moved through the celebration unseen, a ghost behind a mask that was not his, following the constantly thinning trail of a woman’s perfume.

She was way ahead of him.

He moved as quickly as he could, shuffling past skirmishes, pushing drunk people aside so that he could keep up. But she was fast—faster than any woman he had ever seen before. She darted in between couples, past burly men, through throngs of people yelling at one another, their breath and bodies warmed by what he could only assume was the rum of pirates. Sickening, he thought, as he struggled to catch up.

The woman rounded a corner, a flicker of crimson hair the only indication that she had slipped away for good. Jeir’ak stopped running, it was no use.

“You have a peculiar face,” a small woman said to him. She spoke from behind the counter of a wooden hut just off the main road. “Do I?” “That’s what I said, isn’t it?” She motioned him over to her hut in the shadows, away from the stream of people. “Come closer.” “Are you sure?” “Come closer,” she repeated. Jeir’ak stepped towards her. He grinned behind the mask, reveling in his own game. When he was close enough to look into her eyes, he stopped and stared at her with the curiosity of a newborn. “You know,” she said darkly, “Noxus does not fear your kind.” “My kind?” Jeir’ak asked. “The kind born from its shadows. The kind that comes from the gutters,” she whispered. “I can tell you’ve lived a long time.” She exposed two small, diamond vials from beneath the counter, poured out the contents into a small bowl, and pestled them. The substance inside crunched and bubbled. “I can help you catch her,” she said, smiling in the dark. “How is that?” Jeir’ak asked. “Come closer,” she said.

((The rules are pretty simple: play whoever you want, just keep the setting to Noxus. Your character can be anywhere inside the city, so where you choose to start and what you choose to have your character doing at the start of this story is entirely up to you. The goal is to collaboratively write our characters “towards” each other – meaning that we have to create a situation that would get them all together, then have them interact. You don’t have to play a character that’s from Noxus. You can even make up your own character. I have begun the story.

The image included is an image of my character, Jeir’ak. If you want to know more information about the Noxus that will serve as the setting for this story, you can read more here. Play whatever you want. I already know there are people who intend to play champions.

You can respond to the main story thread, or, you can respond to someone else’s response within the main story thread if you find their precise location to be more interesting to your personal subject matter.

If you’ve got a question that is not in character, use (( brackets )) around that text to denote OOC. You can also message me on the client if you want to join in! Let’s have some fun.

This was originally posted on the roleplaying board, but since they do not allow for people to play characters on those boards that are already claimed by others there, it's been moved here.))

3 Comments

Momorae11/14/2014, 3:00:39 AM2 votes

((In case people get all sensitive over this, it'd be easier to consider this more akin to collaborative fanfiction. I don't want to be Vlad, at least not in any other stories except this one. I just want to tell a story that I have in mind about him. As people say, "What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas!" ))

All men had passions. Most took it to women, those soft creatures whom they wrapped in pretty fabric and shiny trinkets to keep happy. Others, to knowledge, like those Zaunite scientists decrepit and deranged in all aspects except for their destructive arts. And the very few, to the seductive mysteries of the macabre—death, to be more concise. But Vladimir was interested in a very specific part of it. Blood. Death was merely collateral damage for bringing on that beauty of the red bloom. But when he saw that his power of blood could do much more than kill and desiccate, to bring about a piece of soul to the raging corpse, it had sparked a new curiosity. Such interests were rare these days. He’d thought there wasn’t much more to his arts for him to learn. It was a refreshing feeling. The dusty books of the castle library were opened again, some for the first time in a hundred years. It was well into the night when the large double doors of the library creaked open. Vladimir darted his eyes to the source of the sound, his intent gaze ripped away from the books. “I didn’t think you would actually be in the castle tonight.” The voice spoke. A woman’s voice. LeBlanc, the Matron of the Black Rose. “It* is* my castle.” He returned his attention to the pages. “Your fathers, to be exact. Though he’s dead now so I suppose it goes to you by default. But the stairs were still thick with dust. Well, except for the marks of footsteps. Two pairs now, yours and mine. You were suddenly homesick, after decades of neglect?” He flipped a page. It shuffled in the silence. He then replied nonchalantly, “Small talk never suited you.” “You’re right. And it doesn’t suit me now. There’s an issue at hand I’d like to notify you about. The members of the Black Rose have brought to my attention a … new face within our walls.” Vladimir closed the books. They’d have to wait for now. Emilia LeBlanc wouldn’t come by herself to an old dilapidated castle like this to talk trifles. She wasn’t like other females, Noxian or otherwise. There was a sense of gravity, of … hidden power. Any new happenings worthy of her interest was to surely interest him, as well.

7XNOVA11/14/2014, 7:32:41 PM1 votes

A bleak dawn stretched out into the horizon, clouding the ground and casting dark shadows. At the outskirts of the capital, a small shimmer of light flashed, brightening the surroundings and with it, an outline of a card. The gambler had arrived. With a smirk on his face, he sauntered through, ducking past hustling merchants and soldiers alike. He walked with purpose, looking for a familiar structure. Finding the building, he scrutinized his surroundings, scanning the empty room for signs of tampering. Assured that the situation was the same as it had been, the man once more straightened his posture and grabbed a shining gem from behind a worn tapestry. "Lady luck is smiling," he thought to himself as he exited the area. Just as he arrived, he disappeared, his cards trailing behind him.

Midday: a time of merchandise and open trade. Intelligent eyes peered from every corner and behind each figure selling their wares. Nothing in Noxus was completely hidden, for all would eventually come out in bursts and cracks, from the darkest deed of night to the unknown travels of many. The only deeds that would never be found were the ones that were forgotten, long lost in the travels of time and records of old. Yet none of these concerned the one who was walking through the corridors of a far underground hall. Having come from a far distant world and from a much more powerful lineage, the concerns of the many were the furthest from his mind. To a time traveler and dimensional conqueror, all seemed to blend into one at times. An issue, a trouble, a threat; all of these similar calamities would face every sentient society as it grew and met other cultures. Having come to a grand gateway, the traveler paused. Two contrasting pictures were painted over the walls, one of a colossus in pitched combat and the other of a wizened sage delivering healing to a peaceful crowd. The long worn bricks on the ground were inlaid with text, spelling out a simple phrase: SIDUS CONTRA MUNDI. An elegant seal stood over a silver doorway, covering the path with shimmers of silver and gold. The destination reached, he reached out and cracked open the door. The future, an untold treasure, awaited.

Yet just as the morning began, the night came quickly, trailing the last beams of sunlight that peaked over the horizon. Soon, the velvet shadows of clouds trailed amidst the soft glimmer of moonlight. The land was hushed, quiet except for the creaking of the trees in the wind, and the chirping of the crickets. A chilly evening breeze spread across the plains, leaving a trail of sighing grasses and leaves. People gathered about, moving from building to building talking about the latest gossip and rumors to spread across the land. A cloaked figure silently walked past the murmuring crowds. He was there for a reason, and quickly strode past people, his jet-black cape fluttering in the breeze behind him. Weaving back and forth through the dimly lit alleys, he frowned, sensing with unease a change in the air about him. He deftly moved his right hand into his pocket, feeling the reassuring cold presence of his blade.

Picking up his pace, he moved in a time tried motion, crouching and then pulling out a shimmering dagger. The dagger lit up, slight shimmering with engraved lettering spelling “Blade.” He waited for only a second before slashing in one swift motion, getting the calming response of a blow. Upon confirmation of the hit, he reached inside his cloak to grab a mystical blood-red orb. He flung it upon the now immobile figure behind him and briskly jogged off, giving himself only a quick glance at the original location before reaching a safe distance. Black fire burst from the orb, consuming the figure and all material in its proximity. The cloaked man smiled with relief, and hid his blade once more. After all, his destination was only a minute’s walk off. He strode off, just one of the many shadows fading back into the night.

((Splinterer person: you basically took the role of Vlad if you're writing a story about him.))