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Post by DM BANE on Dec 2, 2016 7:43:29 GMT
[attr="class","likedo"] [attr="class","likedotitle"] [attr="class","likedotitle2"]WINTER FESTIVAL - ACT 1 [attr="class","likedoinfo"] Winter, the most energetic time in Istaval as it is an peaceful outbreak of all the seasons. The gods of winter are happy and worshiped in return they offer a time of serinty. The harsh winters that were foreseen are halted towards the end of the season. This year Istaval is planning it’s winter courts, and many winter events which would allow for a big relief in the war against creatures that stalk at night. It’s a time to have joyish times with your families and friends. This year they have something big planned and it’s a fellow named Count Cristo. Known as an rank 5 mage, and at the top of his game; he has agreed to make an appearance back into the kingdom, but this time it may be on different terms. You may have to just see the the event for yourself and see what he has planed for the people of Istaval.
Go to Istaval's winter festival, enjoy yourself as you wait for Count Cristo to arrive; remember, we have no idea what he has planned.[/b][li style="font-style:italic;vertical-align:super;"][/li][/ul] [/div][/div] [/div] [newclass=.likedo]background-color:#f0f0f0;padding:25px;width:400px;color:#888888;line-height:10px;[/newclass] [newclass=.likedotitle]background-color:#ffffff;border:solid 9px #444444;padding:1px;[/newclass] [newclass=.likedotitle2]background-color:#444444;color:#ffffff;font:bold 10px Calibri;line-height:35px;text-align:center;letter-spacing:2px;[/newclass] [newclass=.likedoinfo]margin-top:-10px;border:solid 1px #e5e5e5;background-color:#f9f9f9;padding:24px;font:10px verdana;text-align:justify;line-height:12px;[/newclass] [newclass=.likedosub]background-color:#444444;font:bold 8px Calibri;text-align:left;padding:10px;color:#ffffff;text-transform:uppercase;letter-spacing:1px;[/newclass] ----- |
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Post by VALKYRIE on Dec 2, 2016 8:00:48 GMT
[attr="class","BlueIvy"]  ❝ You've had enough, but just don't give up. Stick to your guns. You are worth fighting for, you know we all got battle scars. Keep marching on. [attr="class","Blue"] [attr="class","Ivy"]@
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no notes at the moment.
Valkyrie always hated this time of year, the harsh winters and brutal cold airs were never in his favor. However there was always something that made up for that and that just happened to be Istaval's yearly winter festival. It's not often that they had some time on their hand to throw such events but when they did, it always turned out magnificent. Everyone in the Kingdom came together for this event, and it was especially special this year since Count Cristo was suppose to be in the audience. "Blurr" Valkyrie spoke as he sneezed a little, the chilly air sent a shock down his spine. "They could at least do something about this weather." Valkyrie complained as he let out another sneezed.
Wiping his nose, he proceed to enter the festival. Arriving you could see a giant sign leading into the gates of the event "ISTAVAL WINTER FESTIVAL" it was quite beautiful to say the least. Making his way inside the first place Valkyrie went to was the hot drink section, and surrounded himself with a bunch of other warriors who drunk a little too much over-exaggerating their war stories. Valkyrie smirked, but there was one thing he couldn't get off his mind. "Is he going to show?" he mumbled to himself as he looked upward to the night skies.
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Post by Mictlan Osterman on Dec 2, 2016 8:24:09 GMT
 Mictlan rode into the festival in his colorful wagon. At the front were skeletal gaurs. They were great beasts standing over seven feet tall. Their horns were polished to shine and capped in iron. Their bones had been painted by children, but were in perfect condition otherwise. Each had its own style. One had petals of various colors painted onto its vertebrae with each of its ribs painted in green with black thorns. Its skull had yellow petals around the black voids that were its eyes giving the impression of sunflowers. The other just had each rib colored as a rainbow with random splashes of color on the skull and limbs. No part of it was left unpainted except those deep black eye sockets. They were yoked together into a pulling team and connected to the wagon, ready to pull at his command. A simple set of reigns hung over the driver's bench. It was given shade by the cover that enclosed the back, but a wall of fabric with laced up flaps protected the contents from driving rain.
The cover was made of weather proofed fabrics over a frame with a simple set flaps that could be laced together serving as the door. It kept things protected from the weather and offered a basic level of privacy when needed. The outer most covering had been tie-dyed and was a riot of colors and patterns making it easy to spot in a crowd even when markets were packed. The walls were made of slate and had advertisements encouraging people to hop in for warmth and shelter. He was not sure if the people along the way would be walking and figured that he could give a ride. Smoke slowly leaked out of a chimney sticking out the back stove keeping the shelter warm.
Sitting inside was a street urchin who was practicing his patter and slight of hand for a shell game. He deftly moved to shells and his voice was soothing and almost hypnotic. The delicate grinding of the walnut shells over the floor of the wagon merging with the patter seamlessly. It never seemed to stop as he moved from one shell to the next without stopping. It would not seem like he was moving too quick for the eye to follow, but that was the key. The pea was no longer under the shell it had started under. He was getting good and would be able to take a lot of people for all they had if he kept it up. These skills helped him draw them in, but he needed to practice the skill to keep them. Knowing just how much to lose to get them to keep betting was a key aspect of the game. If you lost too much they might actually leave with some of your money. If you did not lose enough they left the table before their wallets were empty.
Beside Mictlan was a humanoid skeleton with a burner full of hot coals filling its torso. It was designed to burn slowly and spread the heat out to avoid damaging the skeleton on Mictlan. Smoke leaked out of its mouth from chimney on that burner. Mictlan was sharing its warmth by way of several blankets wrapped around the both of them. As he pulled to a stop in front of the hot drink stand the shell game was finishing up and the boy collected his money as the various passengers poured out the back of the wagon. Hopefully they would remember him in the future and recognize him as a friend. He still needed to build positive connections with people. Until he got better people were still his best bet to get along in the world.
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