<link broken> At the clock strike of almost 10 PM on the mild summer night of the beginning of June 303, Regalia was preparing to go to sleep. Suddenly out of nowhere, and from a North-Eastern direction, an intense flash of white-blueish light fills the sky brighter than anything seen before. It could not even have been mistaken for a lightning flash, as it lasted for a full two seconds certainly. Those looking at the skies would see ripple waves of distortion flying overhead emanating from the North-Eastern direction. Immediately following were the Northern Lights that started dancing int he skies, Viridian Green and Dark Blue. Citizens walked into the streets to stare up at the sky, but the chaos would soon ensue across the city. Anyone who knew even an ounce of magic would immediately feel sick to the stomach, like some incredible sense of dread was about to befall them, some even got so sick they spilled their stomach's contents onto the floor. In the Azure Order tower the chaos became at its worst. The collective mages trapped in the tower started to riot breaking free of their confines, overwhelming even the anti mages who themselves felt sick to the stomach. Some mages literally went mad at the event, just how the Evergrowth Mages were terrified as all the plantlike and the trees around them started screaming in a massive unintelligible garbage of terror and dread. The light was seen even as far as Daenshore, the brightest being closer to the Northern edge of Ellador. The skies everywhere were filled with the dancing Northern Lights, traditionally called Mershell's Dancing Lights as it had been named after the Human Old Gods, believing the lights to be the product of their god of entertainment dancing across the sky during the winter months. Yet these lights only occurred in Ellador naturally, and were seen as far as Daendroc and Farahdeen this night. Bells started ringing in Regalia as some of the collared mages panicked and caused outbursts of their art in directions where it was not helpful. In a couple of streets fire mages accidentally lit houses on fire when they spewed out fire in fear. Further down the harbor some water mages caused fisher ships to cap-seize when their magic started affecting the water. Further yet in the Scholarly circles of the Imperial district, all varieties of magical devices and laboratory constructions started behaving oddly, activating at random and giving off a whole variety of readings. Guards raced trough the streets of Regalia attempting to subdue the mess that was quickly forming. Fire brigades ran trough the streets and lights went on inside houses as people awoke from the bells ringing in the city to alert the city officials. Ch'ien-ji raced to their hidden temples and places of worship to see their priests, asking if this had been a sign of their dragon. Isldar ran around in the Elven districts frantically yelling at each other, fearing the Ice Dragon's wrath for their betrayal to the host. Old Gods worshipers flooded to the Old Gods district in Regalia holding a candle vigil in fear of some cataclysmic event to take place. In truth, many of the religious and cultural groups of Regalia raced to draw conclusions, but nobody had a clue what was going on. The lights would continue to dance in the skies for the next three hours, until they died down around the first hour of the next day. The coming weeks would hold many puzzled about what had happened.
Teresa Anahera {Regalia} The mage riot in the prison could be hear oh-so distantly. Teresa sat alone in her office in the Bayeri Estate, the curtains drawn tightly over the windows. She sat there, clumped in her large chair at her desk, half-finished letters, notes, and ledgers sloppily scattering the surface. The State Council meeting had been interrupted because of those queer lights, and she also achieved her goals -- but for what? The old Anahera found herself in a rather philosophical state. Why was she doing all of this? Why is she enduring this terror when she could be at home in Daenshore, with people that actually liked her. She never saw magical lights waltz in the sky in Daenshore. She never negotiated the end of a divorce trial in Daenshore. She never had to worry for herself in Daenshore. In Daenshore, she was happy -- and with family and friends. Eventually, her eyes began to flutter to a close, and she could swear she saw the lights dancing in her office, her thoughts with them. For once, she dreamt pleasantly. Alejandro Anahera {Daenshore} It was a rather lovely night. The room was lit most warmly in dull candlelight. Three empty wine bottles were rolled in a pile in the corner while the air was scented flamboyantly with opium -- burnt flowers with just a lick of tar. The two ladies who had kept the Viceroy company that night were already up and in a frenzied panic, hopping about the room with the little bits of clothes they managed to put back on. The Viceroy's bedroom featured an entire wall that was opened up into a most pleasant balcony. The translucent wisps of blue silk twirled in the cool summer wind, veiling the waving scratches of light etched into the sky. It was a marvelous sight, or so Alejandro figured. He rose from the bed and found himself some pants. A quick saunter and the petty slaps of the cold wind found him sobriety while he glanced up at the sky on the balcony. He leaned over the railing, eyeing the distant lights with amazement. This was the stuff that made tales -- omens and promises of more. He glanced over his shoulder and gave a whistle, a squire seeing the two fidgeting women out and back on the street. The entire city was alight -- but then again, it usually was. Peddlers dropped their wares and late-night child scum quit their playing -- something was dancing in the sky and, by the Spirit, it was beautiful.
HOLY MOTHER OF POPTARTS, is this like the Cataclysim or whatever it was when people suddenly exceeded in magic super fast but the opposite??
Eoin Ó Cionaoith T'em fairies're feckin' pissed... Eoin had been in the tavern drinking with Moira Kearney (@LeoTheBootyful ) as the night turned into the early evening, he'd complained about being tired and so had made a stumbled attempt to return to his house in the Old Gods' district, he'd only just arrived the small river-bend house when the sky erupted into a blaze of blue-white light that staggered him in his step. The distorting wave that passed far overhead in the night's sky followed by the air itself catching alight with the dancing colours of light immediately had an effect on Eoin, it had been as if he'd been punched hard in the stomach, he reeled over himself grasping at the handle of his door. Fear began to set in, he practically tumbled into the house, kicking the door shut behind him from the floor where he'd huddled into a foetal position. Clinging his stomach, already with alcohol in his system, Eoin was sick onto the floor with a groan of fear and discomfort rippling through him. It hadn't been long before he began to spasm on the floor, Eoin could feel his magic flaring up without him even attempting to do so, the unnatural fear that was haunting him cast a white face upon the horrified man. He scrambled toward the stairs, dragging himself up by his hands, he gagged as the sickening feeling overcame him with it's tendrils seemingly piercing his stomach. Whatever the fairies had done, Eoin was sure that he'd seen them, his magic was acting without his accord. Eoin couldn't control his changing, ripping away at his clothing he changed into his feline form frantically clawing into the wooden attic. Whatever had occurred in the sky had thrown Eoin out of control completely, his feline nature was taking hold and he'd descend further away from himself. The dancing lights in the sky burnt into him, he'd flip back and forth between human and feline form at random. Eventually the changing became too much as the first hour of the next day approached and Eoin was left exhausted, human and utterly unconscious. He clung tightly to the small carved fairy symbol that'd been lying by his side. What the feck had happened?
Atilio Amaya was on Violet duty at the time the event struck, his gaze struck to the flashing lights far off to the North East. He gazed in wonder, perhaps it was a sign of the death of the Crown Prince, the Imperial Spirit's soul joining the Emperor's of old. His gut filled with dread, but as he turned back into the street to signal another guard, a man feel to the ground only a few meters away from him, clutching his stomach and groaning in pain. He marched over to the man's side, kneeling down to examine the sudden sickness when further down the street, bursts of fire shot into the air, lighting the sky up just like the strange lights did. He furrowed his brow as he unsheathed his cutlass, and cut the man in front of him down before he could do anything. "Violet, hurry back t'Greygate and raise th'focking alarm!" He seemed to be in some sort of panic as he ran up the main street, gazing in awe as a man jumped from a burning building, his hands burning the ground before he went limp. As someone fell to his knees, screaming out in pain at the trees and flowers in front of him. The sewage and fountain water wetting the pavement as a mage began to control it around the street. What in Aloria was happening, his only thought remained.
I picked a great day for Leah Kade to get violently I'll for an unrelated reason... let the mage rumors begin
When Kemion first saw the lights, he was on his ship, wanting to clean some things up before it went on its trading business. He worshiped the Union of Air, so the first thing coming to mind at the lights was that Mershell had shown one of his examples of beauty. However, as he heard the screams when coming down to Regalia, he knew something was wrong. Seeing the fires and the panic, he knew that this was no work of Mershell. He ran to the Old Gods Temple, hoping to find something there on what was going on. Whatever was happening, it was an omen, and Kemion knew it for sure.
Rhunor Drazhras ~Dwarven Mage, Storyteller, Businessman~ Racing outside from the guild home he had grown quite fond of, Rhunor burst through the doors to see what was causing the commotion outside, only to feel his legs his cause to quake as they fell out from beneath him, causing him to land hard against the pavement. Every attempt to rise from the ground only caused his bile to rise quicker and faster. Gods, he hoped that the people within the guild hall could not see him now. Covered in his own bile, Rhunor slowly managed to make his way to his feet, clutching onto a nearby wall as if his life depended on it as wave after wave of weakness overtook him. All around, people were in an uproar. Screaming for aid from their gods as mages were given to sick as they lost control of their magic. Rhunor was no exception. He could feel the ground beneath his feet responding to commands he had never given and try as he may, he could not avoid the ground bursting upwards from beneath his feet, sending him sprawling to the floor once more. Rhunor wanted nothing more than to take a role in the next great chapter of Regalia, well, wish granted. The only question was, how was he going to start this story... "Let me tell you how it all really happened. It all began with the first sign ... that the world was coming to an end"
Alone in the park, Fei-Tzu Xunzhao would suddenly gasp in surprise at magnificent swirls of light in the sky. A peace would come upon him and he would rush to the Chi'en-Ji temple, taking it to be a sign from the Great Loong Dragon. However, suddenly he would double over, dropping his walking cane and feeling an intense nausea overtake him. Within moments he was on the floor, emptying out his stomach. After recovering to some degree, he would feel the energy associated with casting swell up inside of him. Unable to prepare, a vivid rush of intense light magic would rush from his fingertips, blinding the night in front of him. Another was on the way after only a minute of recovering, and he soon felt himself clamped down by a Regalian Guard who had heard the flashes. "Thank you," Fei Zhao would breathe, exhausted from so much casting. After having recovered to some degree, he departed (under the supervision of the guard, who feared he might have another outbreak) to the Chi'en-Ji temple, where a crowd of Chi'en-Ji voices awaited him. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Reactions aside, what impact does this have on mages?
Cecil Empolan Cecil had been chasing an Ashman along the rooftops excitedly, rolling and jumping more than necessary. Glancing up on a whim, he had to stop himself from going tumbling off the rooftops. There were the dancing lights in the sky, silently looming over the city. He gazed at it, fixed on the spot for several minutes before coming to his senses at the sound of the chaos in the streets below. Blinking in surprise, he rushed to find a route down in order to see what was going on. To his utter shock, mages everywhere were apparently throwing temper tantrums. He rushed to one of the mages, trying to help him gain control, only to jump out of the way of a fireball, narrowly avoiding getting singed. In shock, he realized that some of his friends are mages, and he rushed onward to find them, calling out into the illuminated night, trying in vain to aid any mages he came across. His guild depended on the mental health of a particular wind mage.
Whew. Good thing Iravel as a fire mage lives within the only house in Regalia which interior and exterior is entirely made of stone.
Psst people. The mages feeling sick only lasted for 3 hours. I suppose you can still roleplay a headache, but please don't use this as an excuse to drive your mage insane : D
{⁂} Llewellyn Aeglossiil {⁂} 'From shaken hands did fly shards of fear.' ------------------------------ With cluttered surroundings and little light aside from the odd flickering candle, Llewellyn was rested upon the edge of a stream in the Regalian wilderness. Her knees tucked against her stomach and hands in front of were idly pulling a needle through cloth that clearly had seen better days. Inhaling a calm breath, she'd continue her patch-working of torn clothing from past and purposeful scuffles. She found it calming here. However, her 'peaceful' evening was interrupted by an intense flash of light, the prolonged and intense luminous shine lit up what seemed like the whole sky, glinting and dancing on the water. With that, and hardly a seconds notice, the mage felt something akin to man reaching in and tearing out her innards. She'd lurch forward, the needle that prod into her flesh was to be the least of her concern as what little she had eaten was retched to the grassy floor. A series of violent and lurching heaves followed as the Isldars eyes grew wide and alert with a pit feeling of dread and fear. A fear that she had never felt before. Not long after the retching had ceased, did her fear start to really flood her mind, all she could think was the intense panic. Her shaking hands, which had been planted to the ground, started casting. The grass beneath her hands started to crisp up and harden, easily frozen by the older Nelfins palms. With a hissing inhale, she brought her hands to run through her hair, some strands freezing and crumbling away, gripping briefly the bony stubs at the back of her head. Pointed, almost vampire-like, canines bore down before her breath hitched, it was because of that wasn't it. She dragged herself towards the water to splash herself, only for the surface to harden around the tips of her fingers. Water quickly cooling to ice, only directly under and around her fingers. The Isldar yelped, though, as she yanked her hands to her front, only for tiny and jagged ice-shards to fling forth. These few in all directions around her, not only was she dealing with Solid Form, but also Shard. Needless to say, the two paired were a nasty combination. Her century of over experience left her fearful and horrified. Though distant screams, smashing and anarchy were present. Llewellyn confused as ever, was this the Dragon? She couldn't think straight for long. Nor even care to look upon the dancing lights above herself. She continued this way for a decent while before her fragile body just couldn't take the strain. Llewellyns body crumbled, the top layer of skin on her palms and fingers had frozen, the area around her iced, impaled and the terror-filled slumber engulfed her. It wasn't likely she'd move for several hours; weak, dazed and confused. As soon as she could move from exhaustion, the Isldar wanted to find Ish. She might then feel completely fine, but whatever happened was far from that. ------------------------------ *waits for bad Elsa jokes* @ForsakenSlayer
Adrian Steindahl Adrian was staying near the docks once it happened. The skies were filled with flames, as the man collapsed to the ground in pain. The cobblestone road under him froze, although Adrian hadn't even thought of casting. He got up, taking a closer look at the sky. Not once in his life had he seen northern lights outside Jorrhildr. "Uh, I'm not collared. Better get to the boat before anything worse happens.." Adrian thought as he rushed to his father's ship. He left a trail of cold and slippery footsteps behind him.
Abigail Tucker had been in her poor district home when the night sky above exploded. The woman had been preparing for bed, and had just blown out the last candle that lit her house when the world outside lit up, filling her previously dark home with a eerie green light. Abigail, who was a naturally curious woman, stepped outside to see what was happening exactly. The shorter female looked up when she got out her door, still clad in only her nightdress. "Oh, would you look at zat..." Abigail muttered under her breath, enthralled by the swirling lights dancing in the skies above. It took her tired and groggy brain a few minutes to fully process and recognize what she was seeing "'Oh-lee shit" Abigail hissed once she realized she was seeing Mershell's dance. After seeing a few Old Gods worshipers hurry past her, Abigail bolted into her house and changed into some more 'public' clothes. She grabbed a candle from her dock home, and set off to join her fellow worshipers in the old gods district, giving any sickened mages she found along the way a wide berth. Meanwhile, In the burnt districts of Regalia, Oakley Pratt sat in an old, decrepit and dying home. The gypsy had been going over her haul for the day, a whopping total of 15 regals. Suddenly, an explosive pain hit the red-haired woman, like she'd just been punched in the gut. She fell over, writhing in pain as she clenched her stomach and her vision swam, not long after that her dinner would find it's way back to the open air, paired with violent gagging. Oakley only threw up once, after that first wave she just laid on her back, looking up through the demolished roof to the colorful lights in the sky, and listening to the sounds of other panicked mages. Unlike the others, Oakley didn't learn enough of her kind of magic to cast, nothing around her was turned toxic, thankfully. "Th'shit kinda thang Is 'appenin' 'round 'ere? Huh? Why're y'makin' m'sick?" the woman asked aloud to the dancing sky lights. If they held her answer, she was not told.
Ramone Diaz The fun-loving gypsy gave one last bark of laughter as he made his way home. The tavern was a great place to drink and have some good olde night fun. Ramone looked for his keys in his pocket as he approached the door. This is when the sky decided to throw up neon green and blue vomit. At this point, the man looked to the sky in awe at the event. Then the literal earth brought him back down to... Earth. His own magic, however minuscule it was, had started manipulating the street under him, causing spikes of earthen street tile to start to jut in random directions. Ramone ran through the door, glad that everything below his feet was solid and not stone. The man started climbing the stairs, grumbling at the newfound side effect of the neon sky vomit, a horrid headache. Then poor Ramone looked over to his cherished stone collection, only to find it was now a twisted and jutting mess. "Void damn it."
Mózcatma Engwass - Regalia At first, he had little care for this event. Jut a peculiar flash of lightning he thought, or cannon fire, or fireworks, or... he wasn't too bothered. It was only when a mage cast a stream of fire in his general direction that Móz began to worry. There were lights in the sky, and suddenly Móz had reason to fear the situation. Fire. Why did it have to be fire? He dived to the floor, a deep terror setting in as the building beside him begins to steadily crackle away before, with a whoosh, it was engulfed in flames. Getting bigger. The next building caught on fire, the dancing tongues of the angry orange fire seducing the timber in their delicate, angry grip. Getting closer. The tongues of fire reached out to Móz, trying to reach out to him with their long, gentle fingers. Getting hotter. The young Tigran was paralysed; he feared the mage, the buildings, the fire. The fires was everyhwere, it was getting worse, it was trying to reach Móz. A desperate garbled cry rang from Móz's mouth, but as a finger of fire stroked his foot he was shocked out of his paralysis. At first he just pushed himself back with his legs, getting faster and faster. When he reached the opposite side of the street, he managed to push himself to his feet with his ever-weak left arm. Left rather delirious by the smoke, he began to stumble away before falling flat upon his face, where he would wake once more in a few hours time. For once, the burns were small, though he would be ill for a while with the smoke that had poured into his lungs.
Ishryniel Nhaddarrrin. Ishryniel had been sat, counting over what loot she could've sacked from the sewers for the day, being a measly handful of regals, sighing as she exited the sewers and headed for the home she had been sharing with Llewellyn, freezing in terror as the sky tore asunder with a bright flash. A gut wrenching feeling came over the Isldar, who continued to blink at the sky before rushing through the back streets to the spot in the wilderness Llewellyn liked most, the stream. A fearful expression crossing her features for the first time in five decades as she saw Llew casting uncontrollably. Not moments later did Ishryn's own casting become uncontrollable in her panic-ed state she flailed around, small shards of ice coming out intermittently as she braced her hands around a tree. Before falling unconscious from the exhaustion she shot a glare to the also-faltering Llew with a raised brow "What was this?" she thought before falling into the void of sleep. --------------------------------- @Naerishi *bad elsa jokes incoming from every direction*
Colline Deodat Co sat in the corner of her brother's antique shop, briefly practicing her strings magic with a straw doll she'd had since she was very young. While their home didn't necessarily face the sky at all, the initial flash of Mershell's Dance flooded the street and through the front window. "No, no no no.." she mumbled, dropping her practice. Having not been fond of lightining she scrambled under the counter in hopes to avoid whatever was happening. A poor attempt, as it was only a few moments after she'd safely cramped herself under the table that a churning pain in her stomach quickly reinforced her fetal position. The pain being too much for her small being to handle for more than minutes, Co reluctantly passed out beneath the counter. ( @starkiller_117 ) Dimitri Vernay Dimitri stared at his ceiling, still rather disgruntled after his disagreement with his sister. Though having been exhausted prior to their conversation, and only more so once it ended, had only moments of being consciously awake before drifting into a log like sleep. Completely oblivious to the light show bleeding through his curtains. ( @starkiller_117 @Goldzillaa )
Philip BlackPhilip walked down the streets of Regalia, heading home after a long day out and about in Regalia. He was bone tired as he grew closer to his house in the Scholar's District and as he noticed a woman he recognized (Mrs. Bailey was it?) simply standing out in the street. He was about to ask her why when he suddenly turned around and saw them. Mershell's Dancing Lights. In Regalia. He stood frozen for a moment like Mrs. Bailey. He then promptly sprinted home and rushed to his telescope, immediately moving it to look at the Lights as they continue to wash over the rooftops. He then went and grabbed his compass, checking it to see what direction the Lights originated. North-East. Where...he began to consider this development to his plans. He suddenly heard a rather large sound from nearby and the distant shouts of people from a larger road nearby. He ignored it and continued to look at the Lights from the entire night, into the next day and watched as they slowly faded away. He would need to speak with Chris, to tell him his plan...but first, sleep. He tumbled into bed and was asleep within a minute, still in his clothes.
Torikku Sagi Torikku was being his usual self in the poor district, looking for anyone unlucky enough to go off alone. After spotting a girl that looked of twenty he quickly proceeded to follow. It turned out she had a small make-shift bed in an alley, it was too easy for him. He was about to start his hexing from above when all of a sudden the lights flashed in the sky. A wicked headache filled him and he fell from the low roof of the hut. The startled woman screamed as she saw him, the uniform of the Kindred was easily recognizable. Torikku glared at her until he realized that he started to hex the woman. The commotion caused some other homeless and poor to come out, eventually getting caught in the twisted mind control. They were all filled with nightmares and horrors first then it switched to sever pains and gut wrenching sorrow. They eventually fainted from the overwhelming force on the mind and terrible sights. Clutching his head Torikku grabbed the woman by her leg and dragged her off muttering "That was easy...". He eventually made it to the sewers where he made his usual "art" of the woman to calm his mind, avoiding anyone else so his magic didn't spiral out of control as hex magic requires a victim.
Rchkchk TrichkRchkchk woke with a start within piles of paper. Fire glazed the city streets in the distance while men and women ran about. The tavern, while fairly empty, had several gawkers at the windows. Taking no time at all, Rchkchk gathered the paper, and leaned out side the door, pushing several ailor men out of his way. With great care, he slowly shuffled onto the steps before a voice reached him, "I wouldn't go out into the streets, lil' bugger. It ain't safe. Mages everywhere." Rchkchk turned his head slowly to glare at the man, taking a rather large step down the stairs while giving him a look that said, "This isn't my first rodeo." After this, he quickly made his way down the tavern stairs and into the night with one thought... "They show the hunter a soft spot"...
