< atton revisited > The information page for Atton has been fully revised and updated with the new map!
< updated calendar > The Fortuna calendar has been updated in the "Other" lore section! This includes a document which displays the calendar for you to see, making it much easier to understand.
< moving map > The first functional map has been released in the News section! This map is also interactive, allowing you to drag and drop between points in order to determine distances. This is the first iteration, and there's more and better to come!
< first annual awards > The results for the First Annual Fortuna Year-End Awards have been posted! Go and take a look at who the finalists were, and who took home the big prizes!
< new default skin > Our new skin has passed the beta test, and is now the new Default for the forums! If you have any issues with this skin, send a PM or Discord to Mellie.
< human lore update > Humans have been updated with TWENTY-FIVE subraces/subcultures which add numerous options, and a little extra lore and flavour.
< magic lore update > Magical Lore has been enhanced with the addition of a post on Magical Education. From Beginner to Expert, this is how you learn the spells.
< a change to member groups > Member groups are now based on storyline! You can change your displayed storyline by editing the settings in your profile.
Welcome to the world of Fortuna, a land of fantastic proportions. This is an original fantasy roleplay that takes place in a world developed over nearly a decade of work and collaboration. We aim to encourage all participants to have a hand in the stories of the characters here, and the world around them. Your choices are key - so make them with pride. You decide who wins the wars, you decide who becomes King, the world is ours, and together we will bring it to life!
Post by Edgar Vanros on Feb 21, 2017 15:25:08 GMT -7
Early Evening, The 13th of The Winter Storm
Zota Vanros' home, Dimant, Sector A
His father would absolutely love the painting. Paintings were worth a fortune, of course, but it was not the kind worth selling. Instead, Edgar framed it on the wall above the fireplace. His father's home would be a much better place for it than the dirty old dungeon that Edgar had been dragged into. Granted, he was curious about where that other passage had led, but that wasn't important. The dungeon, and everything beyond it, was his family's property, and this painting would serve as the first piece of evidence that they could still claim that.
As soon as he heard the door open, Edgar raced to the entrance. There would be no masquerade tonight - he didn't need to host one every night - and Edgar had arranged for a meeting, and for once, his father was home from the mines earlier than usual. As in, he was actually on time. The timing couldn't be any better. "Welcome home, dad! Okay, look, before you get too comfortable, I've got something I need to show you." Edgar didn't wait for his father to respond, and immediately returned to the living room. Edgar smiled, and pointed to the painting. "I found this the other day, and I thought you might like it. This portrait is about one of our ancestors!"
Post by Zota Vanros on Feb 21, 2017 15:43:39 GMT -7
Neither of the senators would budge. They would have even less reason to do after Nicole's… antics. It would be a new year in just a few days, and Zota had waited enough years. He needed a good team for his expedition, and it wasn't like Kornelius Kross cared if Zota fired some useless workers on occasion. Today was a fairly routine culling, or so his assistants had said. Several of his former employees even seemed happy to be reassigned to Sector B, but it would be their last chance to prove themselves worthy of working on the expedition. The Kross Mining Company would need to be completely backing the expedition. They were lucky that he hadn't sent them to Sector D.
As soon as Zota opened the door to his home, he could hear footsteps. Edgar had to have been inside. At least it meant he was not setting up another one of his dances, but he needed to remember that he worked for Kross as well. His job at the Rail Company was not a side job that was only good for funding dances. "Welcome home, dad! Okay, look, before you get too comfortable, I've got something I need to show you." Edgar was almost never this ecstatic. He probably put on those smiles in the ballroom, but if Edgar was celebrating every day, "special events" wouldn't really be "special" anymore. Zota followed, if only to entertain whatever Edgar was so cheerful about.
Zota stepped back as soon as he saw the painting. It depicted a painting of a nobleman with a cape of peacock feathers. But it wasn't just any nobleman. Edgar claimed that it was one of their ancestors. "Edgar… where did you find this?"
Post by Edgar Vanros on Feb 21, 2017 16:05:33 GMT -7
That was not quite the enthusiasm that Edgar was looking for. No, his father just didn't understand. Not yet. This did need some explanation, after all. "Well, first off, this man's name is Arcas van Rosse. Sound familiar, right? I know this is going to sound really fishy, but this guy came up to me, and he led me to some really old part of the city. I found this painting, and…" He had almost died in those tunnels. The man had never given his name - his real name - and lied to Edgar. The skeletons in the dungeon had given him a warning. The dungeon had to have been cursed, but Edgar didn't care. Something good could come of this, and there was no real reward without a little pain along the way.
"Look. I'm not sure how, but he really seemed to know a lot of things. I invited him here tonight, and he should be showing up any second now. He also said he wants to help on the expedition, so we can talk about that, too. The senators aren't going to let us do the expedition, not unless we convince them." Gods, how had the man done it? Even if he was lying through his teeth, he could say just the right thing to make just the right amount of sense. His father wouldn't believe any of this, he'd think Edgar was crazy. "Look, after what happened with Thomas… I know it sounds like I've gotten us into an awkward situation again, but I promise you, this guy really does want to help."
The doorbell rang. Good, the sooner this man could speak for himself, the sooner Edgar could stop looking like he was talking out of his ass. "Just… hear him out, okay?" Edgar left his father standing in the room, and opened the front door.
Post by Ichabod Afof on Feb 23, 2017 16:43:50 GMT -7
Edgar was their target, and while Ichabod thought it would be easier to pit Edgar against his father - Mother assured him otherwise. No, he was to charm them both. Entice them into his plans. Besides... She was more than a tad interested in what the Van Rosse patriarch was planning in Gemarton. She was far less interested in how Ichabod had situated Solana into their plans.
It was Ichabod who had insisted she act as the mastermind behind the plan, and Mother who had balked at the idea and chastised him for being so easily fooled. It was Ichabod who reminded her that Edgar van Rosse was the kind who would insist on meeting this 'master' (and even moresom he assumed Zota van Rosse would), and Mother who insisted he use his considerable charm and wealth instead. It was Ichabod who reminded Mother than Solana was special, she held a thrall that could even move him, and Mother who finally relented. She would permit Solana this one victory... And she would not be so generous later.
And so Ichabod and Solana had a date for tea this evening. He was dressed as simply as ever, though he had opted for one thing to show his impressive station. A gold and emerald ring was prominently displayed on his finger, obviously worth an impressive amount of money. He had appeared jewelry for Solana, as well. Also emeralds - his pet was still his pet, even if she was to act as Master tonight. She would wear emeralds.
"Are you prepared, dear Mistress?" He asked as he took her hand to guide her up the steps to the less-than-impressive home of the Vanros clan, "Edgar believes himself quite clever, and I'm certain he shall needle and wheedle you until you crack... And that would be such a shame on such a pretty face."
Solana Heiralei (I assume we'll have one or two back and forth before the door opening part, but up to you! : )
Last Edit: Feb 23, 2017 16:44:47 GMT -7 by Ichabod Afof
[attr="class","solpost"] Ichabod had been curiously tight-lipped about this evening; he suggested she come along, gave her brief instructions as to her overall impression and Vanros’ background, and then refused to say another word about it, almost as if he were having some kind of internal debate with himself.
Solana had noticed this was becoming something of a trend, one she was keen to find the bottom of.
For the time being, however – business was business.
The vampiress was still intent on making herself irreplaceable to Ichabod, and so agreed to this brief favor before her trip to Aissic. She had received a rather intriguingly vague letter inviting her to some tavern in Tasark, a collection of bounty hunters that promised to be wildly lucrative. Normally, she would dismiss the petty thing in favor of Ichabod’s company; but the little monsters they had made were growing older and restless, Ichabod’s company occasionally solemn and dreary; it was not the life of excitement she had imagined. There was no meal every night, no slinking in tempting shadows with her dark demon; she hadn’t gotten laid since she got to Dirys. She felt married with children, and they were all Ichabod’s idea. She hated kids. Let him watch the damn things for a change.
So mom was taking a vacation.
Aissic might have been cold and dismal, but it would grant her desperate need for reprieve; and she knew herself well enough to know that in Ichabod’s absence their splendors would plague her mind. The marking of deliciously horrified humans, the hungry street the night she had kissed him, the way her heart felt cold and distant when he brushed her with a cool hand, none of a mortal’s heartache touching her dark features...
She felt as if she could be powerful, even more than she was.
She felt as if she could be invincible.
The intoxication of his blood on her lips was a whole other matter.
And so she was here, arm slipped through Ichabod’s nonchalantly, emeralds dripping from her ears on diamond strings, collar shackled round her neck in Ichabod’s name; it’s green and silver gems an effective, glistening arrow to the deep V neck of her dress, which itself dazzled in the light, reflected off of millions of flecks of obsidian.
Solana Heiralei could never be called a plain woman, but today she rightly shone; very appearance an unruffled motion of power. A stretch, as always, of unblemished skin was notably visible, an intentional temptation, the dress fitted to her supple curves; but she wore heels, too, which brought her to a staggering 6 feet tall (though still shorter than her ‘date’, who stood two inches above her.
She would not be an easy woman to look away from tonight.
As was the point.
"Are you prepared, dear Mistress? Edgar believes himself quite clever, and I'm certain he shall needle and wheedle you until you crack... And that would be such a shame on such a pretty face."
The woman rolled silver eyes to the sky.
“That silver tongue doesn’t work on me, darling.” It was a truth in more ways than one; the elf had heard far too many times that she was beautiful to feel any empty flattery from the words, and she also knew all too well that Ichabod cared little for a pretty face; except perhaps to dine on.
She spun amused eyes on him, one brow arched to communicate as much.
The home they approached was surprisingly dull in comparison to Ichabod’s description of Edgar van Rosse’s grand dreams of nobility; it was not even the look of the place so much as the feel. One always felt the seep of the infectious pride that lingered in the homes of the nobles, an unquestionable deserving. This home had none of that; in fact, there was a stink of disappointment here, of unfulfilled longing.
“Van Rosse can wheedle all he likes,” she noted dryly, “though I doubt he’ll last very long.”
Her lips twisted upward at the corners, a silent laugh at her own private joke.
“He’ll find that I want to support his efforts to further my own, as all mortals do. That I seek revenge against his enemies, and that I can be... quite convincing when I want to.”
On her last words, Solana shook the hair away from her neck, exposing the tender stretch of flesh half-hidden under her necklace that she knew his eyes often wandered to – she’d discovered the meaning, finally, behind the tempted looks he gave her.
But this was no temptation; but a tease, and one corner of full lips pulled conspiringly into a smirk.
Post by Ichabod Afof on Feb 24, 2017 10:45:12 GMT -7
Solana explained how easily she would manipulate Edgar, and the flash of the skin on her neck gave Ichabod pause. He had eaten the night before, and he wasn’t hungry, but he would devour her with less control. The flesh was smooth and soft - something he’d learned from the small bits of contact he’d offer her when she fed on him - the muscle would be tender, his teeth would cut through it with ease… But that was not her purpose. She was not food. She was a tool, a pet perhaps - in some ways a partner, though the voice always seethed when he thought such things. Mother did not like Solana, no matter how Solana aided them. Mother seemed distrustful.
Perhaps it was the thrall Solana controlled. The same thing that made her the perfect ally.
He was certain Solana was correct - and not solely due to her ‘powers’. Her talents were immense, of course - if her thrall could affect him, it would be an easy matter to tempt the minds of humans like the Van Rosse clan - but it was also her staggering beauty. It meant nothing to him personally - but it would mean something to Edgar and his father. A beautiful, evidently rich, seemingly powerful woman with an interest in their rise to power? From what he had learned, it was precisely the thing an ambitious man could want in a place like Dirys. The possibility of marriage for wealth - monetary and social. Solana was the perfect item for such a temptation… And from what he had assumed from his interactions with Edgar, the boy was weak.
Ichabod would handle Zota. His silvered tongue, his charm, his historical knowledge (improved by Mother in his ear, offering him knowledge he could only dream of) and the simple promise of what they could offer. A crown. The only difficult thing would be convincing Zota to give it to Edgar. Though Ichabod supposed he could always play one against the other… Out of necessity or boredom, it mattered little which.
”Oh, he certainly will,” Ichabod offered, his hands pulling away from her, not wanting to fall victim to her teasing ways. Later he could indulge her, punish her, reward her - for now she would act for him. He straightened himself and, licking his teeth out of habit, pulled on the cord near the door. The cord sounded a series of bells, and it didn’t take long for the door to open to reveal Edgar.
His Mother chuckled cruelly in his mind, her distaste clear as she whispered: Not at least a servant for this door! Disgusting... How the van Rosse name has gone to rubble since the era I walked my Kingdom. Anonymity is too good for such failures.
"Sir van Rosse,” Ichabod smiled, ensuring to properly and elegantly dictate the new pronunciation. He bowed to the man, Mother seething angrily at her kin showing such reverence to a failure of her bestowments, and her anger radiated more plainly through him when he moved to his next action. He raised himself from the bow, and then turned to glamorously present his Mistress, offering her a greater esteem than he had even permitted Edgar. Mother hated it.
"And may I announce my most honourable mistress, Solana Heiralei,” His bow was more pronounced this time, and he remained in that position to permit Solana and Edgar to speak. For now he would act as though he was a high-ranking lackey. A clever henchman. A trusted adviser, at most. He was no one compared to Solana. Not tonight.
Last Edit: Feb 24, 2017 10:45:47 GMT -7 by Ichabod Afof
[attr="class","solpost"] As was common amongst the royals of her own country of origin, Solana extended a hand to Edgar van Rosse once Ichabod introduced her, hovering her knuckles in the air in anticipation of the brush of his lips, an indulgent, close-lipped smile peaking at the corners of her mouth.
Once he had kissed her hand, if fell again to her side.
“Sir van Rosse. A pleasure.” Without seeming to need further invitation, the elf strode inside with the minuscule click of stilettos, eyes flicking about the entry; fitting enough for a family of high stature, but no palace of royals.
The woman was clear to offer Edgar no doting smiles, no flattering flutter of thick lashes. Her introduction had been polite, but only as polite as dictated by propriety; she was as powerful as he, as high ranking; if not more so, and it was visible in the hard set of her shoulders, her chin hovering high in the air, sterling eyes cool and appraising.
She was an equal, no product of his unsavory trade.
Oh, Ichabod had informed her of that, of course; he knew little of the how or the why, but knew that Edgar had approached him thinking he was a slaver of some kind, and had followed willingly, foolishly, when lead into the tunnels underneath Dirys.
The potential for that particular knowledge intrigued her, as well; what was a man searching for a crown doing trafficking slaves? Clearly they were not used here – Edgar answered his own door – so was it for the money? Surely there was a suitable reason, because being exposed in the slave trade when vying for nobility was a sure way to demolish any man’s good reputation.
Solana tucked that away, another question to be answered.
“I am anxious to see this portrait Ichabod has told me so much about,” she turned shining silver eyes on Edgar, “would you show me, my Lord?”
My Lord.
It was subtle enough, but the way her lips formed the words, the soft ‘o’ formed on the word ‘Lord’ by her rounded mouth, seduced the word; it was alluring, the way she said it, as it was meant to be. A taste of what was to come. He was no King, not yet, but he could be.
Post by Edgar Vanros on Feb 26, 2017 16:46:45 GMT -7
"Sir van Rosse." The name was so strange to him, but it felt so right. His father would enjoy the name, too. He was not expecting the "mistress" to be an elf, but an elf would certainly be interested in matters of royalty. As she extended her hand, Edgar kissed the hand. It was a light kiss; soft enough to not seem too desperate for her attention, but polite enough to give the sense of reverence. Solana was a rather beautiful woman, and Edgar couldn't blame his new "friend" for wanting to serve beneath her. Edgar would have been happy to be "beneath" her as well.
"Ah, your name's Ichabod!" Edgar remarked. He brushed his hand along Solana's arm. "He's shy, isn't he? He wouldn't tell me his name before! That makes this much easier." He called him her Lord. It may have been idle flattery, but his meeting was about making sure his family would earn that loyalty once again. Edgar, his father, even Zechariah and Nicole; they could all be the van Rosse family. "But yes, the painting. Right this way!" Edgar led Ichabod and Solana through the hall, and towards the living room. "Of course, you both might want to talk to my father. Please, allow me to introduce you to Zota van Rosse!"
Post by Zota Vanros on Mar 16, 2017 7:56:44 GMT -7
Edgar led his two companions into the living room. The boy was meant to be so much more. An engineer who would help bring Dirys into the future. Even the dances had some merit, since Edgar could call in any favors from the nobles he had managed to stay in good graces with. Not that he ever took advantage of those favors. He was supposed to be a prince, and he couldn't even get the most basic talents of royalty right.
First Thomas Dunn had known so much about Zechariah, and now… whoever Edgar had brought in. Edgar hadn't found the painting on his own; he needed someone else to bring him to the right place. A mysterious benefactor who wanted to help on the expedition was too good to be true. Zota wasn't exactly opposed to the notion that people knew him, but Edgar's "guests" knew more about Zota and his own family than Zota himself did. Zota winced when Edgar introduced him as "Zota van Rosse." True, his own father had told Zota that it was their old family name, but it was not something that ordinary commoners were meant to hear. Not until their family was true royalty again. Even the name itself was to be a goal, a title that had to be earned, just as their station would need to be.
Arcas van Rosse, however, was not a name he knew. The van Rosse name traced back so far that Zota didn't know which ancestor had founded the name. The best he could surmise was that Arcas was deemed by the rest of his family "unimportant". If he had done more to secure his place on the throne, then perhaps Zota would have been born already a prince. Perhaps his father would have been something more than a preacher. Whoever Edgar had brought would need to make an excellent case that he could be something more.
"Good evening," Zota said to his guests. He nodded to Edgar, and pointed outside the room. "Edgar, why don't you make some tea for our guests?" That would keep him occupied long enough for Zota to listen to what these two had to say. Once Edgar left the room, Zota invited his guests to take seats, all facing towards the fireplace. "Before we begin, I would like to apologize if Edgar was any trouble in setting up this meeting. He can be quite… excitable, and doesn't quite act his age. Now, he tells me that you two intend to help with my expedition. I'll listen to what you have to offer, but first…" Zota gestured towards the portrait of Arcas van Rosse. "I'm rather interested in how you came across this."
Post by Ichabod Afof on Mar 22, 2017 15:11:00 GMT -7
Solana fit the bill with aplomb - as Ichabod knew she would. Despite his Mother's insistence that the woman was worthless, that she had come from nothing, Ichabod saw it in her. That glitter that Edgar van Rosse lacked, to Ichabod's judging eyes: True potential, internal elegance, blithe snobbery. She showed her power quickly, gifting Ichabod's own name to Edgar - and Ichabod feigned frustration at the act, and then pursed his lips in subservient acceptance. It was the act - tonight, she was more than merely his Mistress, she was his Queen... He would treat her as he would treat Mother, though perhaps with a little less barb.
Edgar lead the two of them into the living room, the portrait of Arcas van Rosse hanging above the fireplace like it had once done in the ancient halls Ichabod had lead them through. The portrait was cleaner now than it was before, the dust had been swept away, the frame polished to better fit the mild (mild) opulence of it's new life. Ichabod wondered if Edgar had done it himself - and smiled as he recognized the likely answer was yes, as he'd yet to see a single servant. How far the van Rosse name had fallen. PATHETIC, scorned his Mother in his ear, but as Zota came into view, her tone altered. Something about the man gave her pause - and then, granted her amusement. Ichabod could almost hear her smile.
As Solana and Zota sat, Ichabod remained standing, positioning himself next to Solana's chair. A most dutiful servant. As Zota asked the question, he allowed for Solana to grant him permission before speaking. "I must admit to a certain... Historical curiosity with Dirys, and my gracious mistress permits my dalliances should they serve her interests. Exploring the old tunnels was a bit of a pet project for me, but upon finding this portrait... Well, it seems to serve your family quite well. A confirmation of things known, but not proved. An opportunity for change back to the way things were always intended to be. Dimant, Diassius, even Teche-- these are Kingdoms, not sectors. And every Kingdom requires a King--" He moved his eyes from Zota to Solana, not trawling her flesh with the hunger he usually felt, but instead he inflicted his gaze with as much reverence as he could muster, "Or, Queen."
The skin OTHERWORLD was made by JAWN of WICKED WONDERLAND.
FORTUNA-RPG was created by MELLIE. Images belong to their respective artists. All codes and scripts belong to their respective coders. Please DO NOT take anything without the owners' permission.
