< 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 Ellis Danton on Feb 28, 2017 14:49:13 GMT -7
The 11th of the Scales of Judgement Sunset, Near a Creek in Atton
Ellis had fitful dreams after the action of the last few days. He would awake after each one, his skin coated in a sheen of cold sweat, his breath short, his mind aching.
He would dream about Kav'nok, and the Attonja village. At once Xanthe was run through with a blade - Ellis too slow to stop it. He felt her warm blood spatter onto his face, and as he grasped her wrists he could feel how slack they were. Her eyes looked dead as he tried to get her back, and just as quickly as he realized she wouldn't - the blade was in him. He awoke with his scar burning painfully, and tried his damndest to fall back asleep.
His next dream was of two trees - as he had dreamed so many times. The willow with its impeccable beauty, it's leaves dangling over his shoulders and leaving airy kisses against his cheeks. The jaosi s'na across from him, all jagged edges and flaking charcoal crust. It wasn't beautiful, and it's touch wasn't gentle -- but as he reached out and touched its thick branch he could feel a spark that filled him with purpose. The spark pulled him out, out, away from the willow, which wrapped it's spindly arms around his biceps to hold him back. He was being pulled between them, his skin and muscles stretching painfully as he tried to let go of both, to protect himself - and with a resounding pop of his joints he awoke in screaming pain once more, the fresh scar on his hand from Pelagia burning as he whined quietly into the pillow. He needed to fall back asleep.
Sleep wouldn't come to him, however. He felt divided, and he felt cruel. He felt like a traitor. He rolled from the bed and moved the canvas from the window to peek outside where the day was finally ending. He'd only found his bed in the early hours of the morning - four or five, he'd have guessed - and the fact that just now the sun was setting, he knew he hadn't slept enough. Not after the journey he had taken from the Attonja village to get here, not after what had happened with the Rielcian warlord - not after last night. When had he last slept? Days ago he'd been unconscious, so he supposed that was good enough. He couldn't see his own face, but there were certainly deep, dark bags under his eyes, and his cheeks felt hollower - more gaunt from exhaustion, and stress. Perhaps not enough to be worrisome, but enough that he was feeling every ounce of the fatigue.
He didn't want to see Xanthe today. He had connected with her so well last night, and she'd ensured him that their friendship wasn't over simply because he'd kept his promise - but after speaking with Pelagia, he felt almost as if a piece of him had betrayed his Attonian friend... Which was strange. He was merely doing as he ought to. Serving Pelagia - who was good news for Atton, anyways. And yet... Pledging himself to her so readily made him feel as though he had slighted Xanthe. Though, he didn't wish to see Pelagia today, either. Even if he was supposed to serve her more readily now - more than ever - his heart was trembling at the very idea. No, today he needed to do what he'd been doing for so long.
He needed to be alone.
And so, Ellis got himself dressed - in the Attonian garb he'd received from the village, his uniform was in bloody tatters - requested a day of provisions through Ilithiya - who was more than happy to aid him, but also needled him about what he was going to be doing - and then slunk off into the trees. As far as he could tell, neither Xanthe nor Pelagia had seen him. In fact, he hadn't seen either of them. He wondered briefly if they were together. It gave him a shiver just to think about.
He traveled for an hour before finally stopping, deciding he'd gone plenty far from the temple. Even if one were to simply go for a walk - which Xanthe might do - or a ride - which Pelagia might do - they weren't likely to stumble onto him now. It was by a small creek that he stopped, settling his bag onto the grass with a sigh and following behind it on his knees. He held his face in his hands for a moment, back hunched and elbows resting on his thighs, before releasing himself and looking up at the overcast sky. "I don't know what I'm doing," He told no one, his nerves dissipating in the kind silence of loneliness.
[attr="class","vcred"]Ellis Danton - 725 before she knows what she is
[attr="class","vpostb"]
[attr="class","vpostbg"] It was long ago that Neyela Deastellae learned she did not dream.
It hardly seemed she slept, most nights; though she felt rested after a evening underneath a blanket of stars, moreso here in Atton, where she had no obscuring roof, no quiet walls. The sounds of the earth calmed her, hushed the racing of her mind. Though, it was true, she did not dream, and, though she knew little of her heritage, she did not sleep, either; she did not know so. The chirping of strange insects lulled her, the whistle of distant winds whisked away the wild thoughts of the day.
It was sleep, to her, though every of Thenatos’ rustles always drew her attention, and she always knew when one of the tribesman had risen for a drink or a revelation.
Tonight, however, no such meditation rejuvenated her. She had watched the stars, feeling no tug of laziness at her eyes, the way she had seen others’ after a restless night. She felt no drag of the melancholy of used limbs, no dull of her senses.
In fact, eyes tracing the diety Temos in the stars, she felt as if she had sat with a long-missed friend, reanimated by the interaction with the silent blanket of night.
A strange feeling, but not one she questioned.
The dawn, as it always did, seemed to steal away a touch of her happiness. The rise of pink and purple, so like the pastel of her eyes, did not seem a lost friend, but, rather, the end to something. A bittersweet reunion with the harsh of day.
But on her journey went.
Neyela had left the small village nearly a week ago, and knew she had a while still before leaving her beloved Atton. She had enough rations to last her nearly a week and a half more, and was comfortable with the tribal clothing they had provided for her journey, soft deerskin moccasins protecting her feet from the harsh of unplowed ground. Still, despite her full bota bag, the bubbling sound of a stream was welcome, and the starry-eyed girl gathered waved alabaster strands in delicate fingers, braiding and unbraiding, over and over, a comforting gesture. It wasn’t long, ears not much keener than sight, for the woman to find the welcome infant river, dipping to her knees to cup a palmful of clear, shimmering liquid up to rose lips. It was delicious, the purity of swift-flowing water always a treat, and she went about filling another bota, in case water became scarce.
Her thoughts, solitary, were interrupted by an unusual sight.
So attuned, now, to the look of the Attonians, often tanned, tattooed, and dark of hair, the sight of a freckled man with a shock of red hair was an understandable reason for the attention of lavender eyes. After flickering her gaze away (it was rude to stare, after all), if became clear that he was consumed enough in his own thoughts not to notice her attention.
He was somewhat handsome, clearly a soldier or – she supposed, based on his Attonian garb – even a warrior. His large fingers splayed over his eyes, elbows propped on his knees, and he sat, uncommonly still, for a long moment.
So serene was the moment, red-haired man with his head in his hands, Neyela crouching by the bubbling spring, wind caressing the tufts of plants in the riverbed with a sly whisper, that the blonde nearly lept out of her shoes when he finally swung his face skyward, the clouds greying above the two in the allusion of an answer.
”I don’t know what I’m doing,” he mourned, quietly.
He did look quite a mess, undersockets of his eyes harsh, cheeks and nose chalky below the smattering of sienna freckles.
Neyela stood, hoping it to be a gentle indication of her presence, tossing her half-plaited hair over her shoulder and out of the way, latching the top of her skin and buckling it at her waist.
”Nor do any of us.” She said softly, in what was intended to be a comforting tone. ”I’m Neyela.”
The woman thought perhaps to offer advice, invite him to unburden his troubles; but, in the end, sometimes all one needed was a smile from a stranger, and so that was what she provided, blush lips tugging kindly upwards at the corners.
Post by Ellis Danton on Mar 23, 2017 11:57:39 GMT -7
Had he been rested, he would have been alert. Had he been alert, he would have noticed Neyela when he arrived, he would have heard her -- he wouldn't have stopped here. Ellis wasn't well-rested. He was exhausted and sore, and when Neyela interrupted his self-pitying thoughts, he hardly had the energy to snap his head up to see from whom the voice had risen from.
The figure he saw was a strange vision to him. She wore Attonja garb in the same way he did, in a way that did not naturally suit him. She was pale of skin just like him, and her hair was just as strange for an Attonja. Stark white. Like Pelagia. In fact, the woman before him had much in common with Pelagia Xista. The white hair, the pale skin -- her eyes were similar in colour, and their gaze stole any word he could hope to form. Had she a set of six angelic wings upon her back, Ellis would have found himself certain that she was a hallucination... Instead, he was completely unsure.
"I'm Neyela," She told him, and she smiled, and he realized he had been staring. He pried his eyes from her's and cast them down, feeling more comfortable with the simple change. He was on his knees, eyes on the ground - submissive as ever. It made it far easier for him to speak to this stranger. This strange apparition that seemed so tied to Aurcaele, and to Atton - and yet... Was she either? "Ellis," He managed, his mouth forming the letters many times before the sounds finally emerged.
He dared raise his eyes again, and then quickly returned them to her feet, his memory offering the thought that Rielcians were clever. Rielcians were magical. Rielcians were looking for him. If Neyela had any ties to Rielcia, he could not let her know who he was. And yet, he just had. Perhaps he should test her? "Yi uf teni, yi joj xes ta fa sana."
Yi uf teni, yi joj xes ta fa sana. -> I am sorry, I did not see you there.
[attr="class","vcred"]Ellis Danton - 287 I removed all ‘h’s from translated words with ‘gh’ in them. Hover for translation.
[attr="class","vpostb"]
[attr="class","vpostbg"]
The man seemed shocked by the sight of her – pulled, perhaps, from some bleak sense of doom. His words hinted at as much. His only greeting, for one long, awkward moment, was a glazed stare.
She blinked.
He did not.
Maybe he was blind? Should she say something else?
Neyela’s once-friendly smile froze, tinged with vague confusion, on her mouth. She opened tight lips – to repeat herself, or offer some of her water, silly as that might sound, standing next to a creek – but as soon as she did, his eyes darted back to the ground, as if pulled from some lost reverie.
She closed her lips again, though confusion reigned in forced-cheery eyes.
”Ellis.”
Ah – he’d found his voice, but he seemed no keener to speak to her now than he had been moments before, and she took her cue, leaning down, silent, long enough to wash her hands in the icy flow – she wanted them clean before heading off. Maybe he’d chosen this spot for solitude, and wished no visitors. Who was she to impose?
But before Neyela could turn away, the familiar lilt of Attonian words caught her ear, and she turned mauve eyes back to the man with the red hair – Ellis – brows in a high arch.
He was wearing Attonian clothing, true, but she hadn’t expected him to speak Attonian, and, encouraged, allowed the smile again to brighten her features, despite his still-hesitant expression.
[attr=class, howlong]”Sus ta ud’nops. Yifu teni se ruba jotsyn’thet fa. Fa tafet jav ox sebps. Fa tvaum Attonja?”
[attr=class, listening]”That’s alright. I’m sorry to have disturbed you. You seemed deep in thought. You speak Attonian?”
Perhaps he was more interesting even than he seemed.
Post by Ellis Danton on Sept 9, 2017 8:23:57 GMT -7
[attr="class","epostb"]
[attr="class","epostbg"]As the words flitted around his ears and he pieced them into his native tongue his shoulders shrugged. Relief that she was not Rielcian, that he was safe. Disappointment that she was not Rielcian, that she could still be a hallucination. How exhausted was he, exactly? How long could his mind go without rest before it simply stopped functioning?
Ellis stood then, his muscles crying out angrily at the motion. His head remained bowed as he stood, a poor attempt to not tower over the woman before him. Still, despite his stature, one who looked upon them could easily see where the power lay between them. Neyela, crouched by the creek, had an air of self-assuredness and a magnetic air that captured attention and thought. Ellis on the other hand, could have been exchanged for an ailing tree. He was pitiful and dull.
[attr=class, atton]"Iat. Vendi,"
[attr=class, common]"Yes. Poorly,"
He managed a small smile in an attempt at camaraderie, in an attempt to suppress the whining of his limbs. It was awkward coming from him, out of tune with his usual self. He wasn't one for small talk. If he spoke at all, it was important. And so, he would speak more importantly:
[attr=class, ellishover]
[attr=class, atton]"Henpoba yi puga... Fa dem xez doma fa Q'roah M-miss, er, N-Neyela."
[attr=class, common]"Forgive my gaze... You look not like your Chief M-miss, er, N-Neyela."
Post by Ellis Danton on Nov 10, 2017 15:10:26 GMT -7
"Xanthe is not my Chief," Neyela spoke as she stood, and the words sounded like Attonian, and Common, and Aurcaeli all at once. She reached out and grasped Ellis' hand, tracing the mark of the Gold Leafs, and causing him to pull back in pain. She simply grabbed his hand again, and moved her fingers gingerly over the lines as if she were memorizing it: "And neither is she your's, I see."
Ellis' gaze fell with shame, but quickly rose again as Neyela made a questioning sound for it. It was as if she were asking why he was so ashamed, and hearing her say it, made him wonder the same thing. Why should he feel shame for being Chosen by Pelagia? He was an Aurcaeli man, a soldier. It was the next highest honour after being chosen by Queen Fabelle herself, and if Ellis was being honest, he would not feel so honoured if it were Queen Fabelle who had given him this mark, and not Pelagia Xista. She was his leader, she was powerful, and a paragon of Ayniea's virtue, and--
"Why are you ashamed?" Neyela asked, and Ellis felt embarrassed for speaking his thoughts aloud. He was likely bothering this stranger, and that wasn't fair of him-- "Why are you ashamed?"
He felt like a traitor, that's why. Xanthe was responsible for all of his success, not himself. If he had not met her, he would have been shipped back to Aurcaele by now -- or worse, he thought, remembering the window in Pelagia's tower. If she had not saved him from the bear, he would have been killed. If she had not gone with him to the Peacekeepers, he would have been a prisoner of war. If she had not healed him when Kav'nok attacked, he would have died. Every success he had came from her. So should he not be pledging his servitude to Xanthe?
"I... Yi..." He began, but Neyela held a finger to his lips and shook her head. Even standing here, the woman much smaller than him, she seemed massive. He wondered for a moment... Was this a Goddess? Is this what standing before a Goddess feels like? She shook her head again, but for some reason he did not think it was because of his thoughts.
"Your soul is being pulled in many directions, Ellis. Not solely by indecision, but by hands more powerful than your own." Ellis nodded in amazement as she spoke, his lips forming and reforming in an attempt to invent words that he couldn't think. She continued, "Perhaps it is time you recognize that your choices are greater than two." Neyela pulled herself away from Ellis, dropping back down to the stream and running her hands through the water as if she were doing a fingerpainting.
"B-But... How c-can that-- That c-can't b-b-be," Ellis protested, gazing down briefly at his hand once more. He was a tool of something greater than himself, and that was an impressive thing to aspire to. Whether he was a tool of Xanthe or Pelagia was his quandary, not whether he should be a tool at all.
"Your father," Neyela stated it coolly, her eyes locked into her own reflection in the pond. This one word gained Ellis' attention so quickly that he dropped to his knees with a painful thud next to her, and urged her to look at him with a hand on her shoulder. She ignored it, and continued to stare at herself as she elaborated, "He was a tool as well."
Ellis finally gave up on trying to turn the woman towards him, and looked down into the eyes of her reflection, feeling a chill run down his spine as he did, "H-how do you know-- how-- how d-do you know about m-my father?"
She didn't answer the question. Instead, she told him, "He was a soldier, and then a tool, and then he died. His purpose... Was unfulfilled. The only thing he accomplished was you."
Suddenly, Ellis was not seeing his and Neyela's faces in the water. He was seeing another face, one that looked somewhat similar to his own, but not in the way that his mother's brother looked similar to him. The man looked like every piece of Ellis that he did not have an explanation for. Wide shoulders, thin upper lip, strong chin. The man had red hair like Ellis, like Ellis' mother, but was obviously not related to his mother. No... He was--
"D-dad?"
The vision of the man tilted his head as he heard Ellis, but the soldier knew that was impossible. He swallowed in an attempt to wet a throat that had gone dry, and watched as the man walked down a street Ellis didn't recognize -- patrolling. The man walked, and someone walked behind him. No, not walked... Leapt? Whoever he was seeing was dodging in and out of shadows, one right after the other, not appearing in the light... Not until-- "D-dad!" Ellis warned, but it was too late. The man, Ellis' father, did not react in time. The figure knocked him out, and dragged him into the shadows... But not before Ellis could see something glint on the figure's arm. An insignia he recognized. "Artavia..."
The vision flowed away then. The street, the shadows, the figure, the man, all carrying down the river as if it were nothing but a trick of the light on the gently rushing surface. Ellis was speechless as he wondered if it could be true, what he had seen. And if it were true... Was that really his father. "P-please, N-Neyela you n-need--" He turned to look at her, but she was gone. His heart sank as he was left without answers (again, just more and more questions), and he buried his face in his hands.
"A-are you... Are you t-telling me I n-need to go to Artavia?" He asked the nothingness that was once Neyela, and found himself spooked when a hand touched his shoulder. He let out a yelp of surprise and tumbled around, hand missing the bank and submerging his elbow into the cold water. Before him stood Ilithiya, looking concerned and frightened. "Ellis? Ellis, I'm sorry, I tried to call to you but..." Ellis just nodded and his face went bright pink. He took the hand she offered to get him up and out of the water, and tried to laugh it off, but Ilithiya was serious.
"Ellis, who were you talking to?" She was concerned. At first, Ellis couldn't figure out why that might be, but he realized that he had just been fantasizing about Artavia, which likely wasn't something she wanted to hear when the peace deal was so freshly inked.
He shook his head and rubbed the tired from his face as he tried to come up with an explanation. He did not want her to think of him as crazy if he told the truth, but also hated to think she would lose trust in him if he lied. Finally, he told her, "I... Ilithiya, I... I d-don't know. P-perhaps a God, per... perhaps--"
"A God?"
"N-n-no! ...Maybe. I d-don't know. She... Shh-she showed me a vision. N-not of here, not of anything even re-ru-related to here, b-but of... Of Artavia. Well, m-m-maybe not Artavia. An Artavian p-person. A soldier? But not a soldier from now... I think it was in the past and--"
"Ellis," Ilithiya lifted a hand to his forehead, checking his temperature. Her hands felt cold and warm against his face at the same time, and his skin continued to flush. She clicked her tongue as she made her assessment, but only lowered the hand to his cheek, not removing it entirely. She thought he was crazy, didn't she? "Ellis... The Gods work in mysterious ways."
Oh. He looked down at the small wood elf, feeling an immense relief flood through him as he realized she didn't think he was crazy. Not even her eyes showed the pity he thought he'd see, instead he just saw Ilithiya.
Ellis told Ilithiya how the woman, Neyela, had spoken Attonian and Common fluently. He told her how she had spoken inside of his mind, and how she had shown him a vision of a man who he was certain was his father. She did not question how he could know that (she knew about his past, the two had spoken of it briefly), but simply believed him. Or acted like she believed him. It was... Nice.
It was also nice that after they have gone over everything, Ilithiya hadn't told him to come back to the fort, to get more sleep, to talk to Xanthe, to talk to Pelagia, she didn't even mention that anyone was wondering where he was (which was untrue, the reason she had come was because people were looking for him). Instead, the two of them sat under a tree by the river and just... Talked. Ilithiya talked about her family (which was immense, she had twelve brothers, nine sisters, and one who she described as 'other'); and in return Ellis explained how trees in Aurcaele were grown and maintained despite being above the clouds. Ilithiya regaled him with how she first came to Atton (much longer ago than he had even known it existed), and why she cared so deeply for the safety of the Attonian people; and Ellis told her everything he had seen in the Attonja village, the people he had met -- and about the gigantic tree beast that had saved he and Xanthe from Gilles of Rielcia. They talked about their time in school, and they talked about the games they played as children; they talked about favorite colours, and they talked about the shape of the clouds.
They talked until the skies grew dark, and the air began to feel electrified, and then they began to head back to the Fort. As they did, Ilithiya stopped and gave Ellis one final thought: "You know, I think you should go."
"G-go?" He laughed, thinking she meant 'go back to the fort', which they were clearly doing. When she didn't laugh he asked a little more seriously: "...G-Go... go where?"
"To... To wherever you need to go, to learn about your father," She smiled up at him, and then continued walking, not giving him a moment to respond. He stood there dumbfounded for a moment, brought to life only by the drops of rain that began to fall, warning of a bitter storm. Then, he followed.
Last Edit: Nov 10, 2017 15:11:24 GMT -7 by Ellis Danton
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.
