< 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 Violet Macar on Nov 5, 2017 21:11:48 GMT -7
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A Small Sitting Room in the Palace of Divinity Evening on the 15th of The Empty Lantern
There had been very few times in Violet's life where she had felt downright duped.
Once when she was fourteen, she had been tricked by her boyfriend at the time into thinking he was a twin. She had discovered him going with a friend of her's, and had been so desperate to believe him - young, in love in the way only a fourteen year old could be in love - that she had. When she realized she'd bought into a lie for far too long, she had started shape-shifting into other people to slowly gaslight him into thinking the gods were punishing his infidelity. Violet had developed her earliest characters from the situation, so it had worked out for her in the end. She was pretty sure the guy had become a priest or something, too.
When she was twenty two she had started working with The Tablet, and had been tricked by the gossip columnist at that time - a mean old hag who knew Violet was going to be her replacement someday. The crone had convinced Violet that the two were to be partners, an apprentice and her mentor. She had kept up the ruse for quite a time in fact: Long enough that when she pulled the rug out, Violet crashed face first into the puddle of mud below. She got back at the woman by shadow-walking into her home and airing her dirty laundry to every single reader of the damn paper. Her "mentor" was fired for those dark secrets, and the mentee became who she was today. Again, it had worked out just dandy for Violet.
There had been some smaller dupes in her history, but Violet had always tipped the scales back in her favour. She was clever, she was a survivor, and she had quick reflexes. All of this added up to her never being knocked down for long, no matter the reason she was there in the first place... But she had never been duped like she was today.
Tom's betrayal had hit hard and fast, and Scarlett's had hit harder. She should have been expecting it. She should have known that Scarlett would be involved, if what she knew about Project Acacia was true, but dammit - she thought she had a bit of an upperhand. She hadn't thought that Scarlett would round up the guard like this. She was a child. She would have felt nauseous, dizzy, panicked over the idea that she had so dearly enjoyed her time with Tom, someone who she now knew to be just as evil as Elias Harel himself (perhaps even moreso), but there was no time for those feelings. There was only time for adrenaline.
She fought as hard as she could against the guards, catching one of them in the chest with a well-aimed kick with her boot, knocking the Black Cloak in some soft fleshy part with a bony knuckle. As they bound her, though, she knew she was done on the first plan. Plan B was to enlarge herself a bit, not noticeably, to make her escape easier later. Add a bit of fat here, make your bone bigger there, shrink later. She had figured they would use light to keep her from shadow-walking, and so this would ensure her escape, but she hadn't anticipated the abject cruelty that Mots would stoop to.
There was nothing quite like the pain of bright light on her face, in her eyes, and there was nothing worse than what this was. A sack over her head, secured with cold metal, and magicked on the inside to be nothing but light. There was no dull spot for her to look at, to focus on, and even with her eyes closed she could see the searing brightness and feel it scorch her skin. Some of the spots on her face began to peel where the skin was tightest: Her cheek near the bone, her brow line, her chin, her forehead. Her crying only made it worse, salt water falling into flesh too fresh to touch air, but she could not help but cry. She felt pathetic, stupid... But worse, she felt like she was going to die. Was there any other way this could end?
The door opened, the sound echoing in her mind as the only thing other than her cries for sympathy. Someone new? Someone who would listen? Nothing but hope could fill her now, as despair had already wholly gripped her.
"H-Hello?" She managed, the movement of her mouth causing more skin to tear from the burn, making her whimper, "Please. Help me. Please, y-you... You have this all- ah! Ow-- Shit-- Wrong. It's wrong. Please."
Sabela closed the door behind her and brought a hand to her head as though the hold back the shooting pain, the remnants of her brief encounter with the unknown man. It did nothing to help. The guard in the room stood immediately at attention and the Black Cloak regarded her warily. They knew who she was, of course. Even in this ridiculous dress, though it wasn't very often they or anyone would see her without her cloak. The woman in the bag however wasn't going to see her at all, but she hoped to inspire the same amount of fear in her regardless.
The woman spoke then, and Sabela lowered her hand and took in the sight properly for the first time. The woman before her now looked very unlike the woman who had entered the room with the unknown man, but the cause for that was quickly apparent. "An Ajatar..." she mused. "I will give you one opportunity to answer my questions clearly and truthfully, after which I may consider the possibility that we have this 'all wrong'. First, what is your name and why are you here?" An easy one to start. Now to see how this one wanted to play.
Post by Violet Macar on Nov 5, 2017 22:39:26 GMT -7
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Ah, so that's who it was. The interrogator. A part of Violet was prepared to give anything up, all of her secrets. Who were her celebrity crushes? Where did she stash her weed? Which identity was her favorite? ...But then another part of her stiffened up, found some dignity, and realized that words... Words were something she could do. Yes, it hurt, Kutsal damn it all it hurt, but she wasn't going to go down without a fight. A word fight. A duel of diction. A lexicon lobby. She was going to sass charm the pants off of them.
"V-Violet," She answered, finding it easier to speak as the skin had already torn and broken - or maybe that was just her endorphins numbing her somewhat, "'Vile' as in-- eugh... What you're doing to me, and 'Let' as in, let me out of this d-damned tanning disaster." Her skin was bleeding now, wasn't it? It felt wet, and the burlap of the bag was sticking to her forehead. She shook her head to try and loose the connection, but failed.
"As for the why, well, I uff-- ah-- do believe it was... It was your people who chained me up and shoved a bag on my head, so they should be able to answer you better, dear."
There were many people in the world who enjoyed snark. Sabela wasn't one of them. Technically speaking she wasn't even supposed to be here right now, but she had questions and this woman, whoever she was, had answers. She was sure the Black Cloak in the room was disappointed he couldn't be running the show right now. He may even consider crying about it to Elias later, but the complaint would fall on deaf ears she was sure. She didn't justify Violet's answers with any of her own, and instead she pulled out a small blade from a garter. Even in her gala outfit she would not allow herself to be completely unarmed.
She took a step forward and raised the blade to Violet's exposed forearm, setting the cold metal against it gently and giving just a little push, enough to draw blood and definitely enough to sting. She wasn't intending to hurt her yet though. Much. "Let's try that once more, shall we? Why are you here? Did you come with the intention of harming Elias Harel or any of his guests?" She had a loyalty to attend to before she could ask her own questions.
Post by Violet Macar on Nov 5, 2017 23:30:26 GMT -7
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She sucked a tight gasp of air through her teeth as the blade met her arm, and tried to pull away - but there weren't many places she could go to. Her arms were chained above her head, her feet were close to being off the floor, and endorphines wouldn't last forever. She bit her lip at Sabela's questions to quell the knee-jerk reaction she had to joke right back at the much more serious woman. Mots were no fun. They were barbaric, cannibalistic wet blankets.
In better news: The knife at her arm didn't really hurt when her face was burning off. Silver linings, always had to look for the silver linings.
What was that she thought? Violet was here to hurt Harel? Well, if you counted writing a scathing expose, yes. She had a suspicion this interrogator was more interested in her own style of 'hurting' though. Right? Well, that's what Violet would run with. "I... Dear, your paranoia is-- ugh, showing. No, no, and once more no. If you're looking for the threat, you just let it walk out the door."
Sabela would not argue for or against her possible paranoia. It wasn't paranoia to be cautious, necessarily, but even if it was it was better to be paranoid than caught unprepared, was it not? Caught unprepared like she had been today already. She shut her eyes for a moment to take a breath, but all she could see was the look on the man's face. "Who is he?" The question was short, but held a weight she couldn't describe. Violet said he was a threat, possibly to Elias or his guests, which was important. But more than that, she needed to know why he made her feel like this. Why he had recognized her. Why he'd looked so... pleased with himself.
Post by Violet Macar on Nov 6, 2017 9:32:06 GMT -7
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Aha! Ha-ha-ha. That was a point for Violet. Her interrogator was curious, which meant Violet had a betting chip, which meant there was a chance she could stop this suffering. Even if it meant exchanging it for some other suffering, she would take it. Cut me, She wanted to say, Just stop it with the diddly-darned nightlight!
"Happy to tell you," She managed, but then stopped. It wasn't purposeful how she stopped, merely a reaction to the feeling of her eyelids beginning to give in to the light. They crackled, and hurt, and begged her to open them so that they could stop stretching so painfully - but they had a job to do, because she had eyes that needed to stay eye-like. She cried out then, her legs curling up and making her arms stretch as she swung on the chain, the distraction wasn't enough, but it would have to be. "Happy... Happy to tell you," She repeated, out of breath now, "Over... Tea and scones? Or wine... Or nothing, really, just you and me and no sack on my head! I promise you won't regret it, I promise I'll tell you who he is, and I promise you'll see what I mean. Just take this thing off me!"
The woman was in pain. As she should be, given her situation. Sabela didn't particularly care about her comfort. She would do what was needed in order to get the information she desired, and she had much more experience getting what she needed through pain than pleasure. Surely whatever she was going to do to Violet wouldn't be nearly as horrific as what the Black Cloak likely longed to do. Sabela was a killer, but the Black Cloaks... they were something else.
When the woman finished writhing about she insisted on having the black bag removed; she said she would be happy to tell Sabela all about the man afterward. "Your happiness means nothing to me, Violet," Sabela replied simply, reaching out her magic to the fresh wound on the woman's arm. The skin around the cut began to fester and die. "This is your opportunity to answer my question clearly and honestly. I suggest you take it. When we're finished here I will have the answers I seek regardless, and there are many, many worse things to experience than the sack on your head should you insist on making this difficult. Now, who is that man?"
Post by Violet Macar on Nov 8, 2017 11:54:52 GMT -7
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Violet could do nothing but scream out in pain as the interrogator necrotised her skin. Violet couldn't suss out that that was precisely what was happening, but she could sense that there was magic at work, and she could feel a pain like nothing she had ever felt before. It wasn't as bad as the light on her face, nothing could be as bad as the light on her face, the light on her face was like a splash of acid that kept rehydrating itself to burn and burn and burn again. The pain on her arm was... It felt like muscle fatigue at first, but multipled by a thousand, and then it felt like tearing off a hangnail connected to her bones. In other words: It was fucking terrible.
She was left panting, whining, crying, silently pleading for help as the pain pressed on. It was exhausting, and she didn't think she was going to last much longer. She couldn't believe what kind of people the Mots were. She had once thought it unlikely that Elias Harel was truly as evil as they said, but it was clear now... The man was a devil incarnate.
For most civilised people, the kind of deal Violet offered would have worked. Here, let me stop torturing you since you're totally prepared to give me the information I want, so my torturing totes-mcgoats was effective and is no longer needed. Well, to be more fair, civilised people wouldn't torture at all, but slightly less civilised torturing people would stop with the torture when they could get their answers. For Violet, this was more proof that Mots were very much not civilised. They were demons, the whole lot of them, and her torturer was one of the worst.
Violet attempted to swing towards the unseen woman; to slam into her; to get her back in some small way, but she either didn't quite make it, or went the complete wrong direction. As she did, she grunted a rough: "Fuck you!" Before swinging hopelessly back into position, her arms seizing at the strain.
The woman didn't talk. She seemed like the kind of person who did a lot of talking normally, when she wasn't strung up with a torture sack on her head, but rather than say what she knew quickly as Sabela had asked, she instead stalled, whined, screamed, and only served to allow the man to get further and further from Sabela's grasp. At this point she was at least mostly confident that the man wasn't intending to assassinate Elias or cause any immediate trouble, but she couldn't just let this go.
The woman swung forward then, clearly with the intention of hitting her but without the leverage to reach where Sabela stood, and this time she did speak. Those two words though were not going to help anything. Sabela turned her attention to the Black Cloak in the room for the first time since walking in, and nodded towards the bag on the woman's head. "Will it kill her?" She didn't want to give the woman what she wanted, but she also knew that her magic was much better at killing people than at bringing someone back. She couldn't let the woman die before she gave the information.
The Black Cloak shrugged and said, "Yes, it could," and Sabela grimaced and turned to the regular guard. "Remove it then." She knew some about what Ajatar could do, and didn't want the woman to take the opportunity to escape once the bag was removed, so as the guard stepped up and began removing the sack from her head she spoke to Violet. Ajatar could do things, but so could Lamini and Sabela had plenty of talent in her race's ability to compel people. "Violet, when the sack is removed you will not try to escape. Give me the information I have asked for." She could have threatened violence or promised the woman's freedom but her focus was not on the words so much as the power behind them. Unless Violet had some sort of magic that could counteract a lamini's will, she would give the information regardless of threats or promises. And if the information she gave was useful enough, Sabela would personally see to her release.
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