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68th of Summer 517
7th Bell
PlayersThis is an unmoderated thread. You can start your own spin-off with a group of friends or just reply here. It's all in good fun so enjoy yourselves.
It was a rather strange thing when one stopped to consider the principle. Rhysol, the god of chaos, created an atmosphere that was more constant than any other place on Mizahar for his loyal subjects. Ravok had perfect weather every hour of every day; no exceptions. A literal sphere of influence kept winds to a calm breeze, prevented too much sun and burst the clouds if they tried to linger. No cold fronts, heat waves or anomalies ever disrupted the daily activities of the Black Sun as it guided the people of the floating city towards a marvelous existence in which The Deceiver was touted as the Savior.
Today was no different but otherwise oblivious eyes turned skyward to watch the spectacle. Even though the lakeshore was miles away, one could see the weather outside of the protective bubble. Above the Southern Outpost was a sight to behold; black clouds that stretched into the Ukalas, white and pink lightning that danced in treacherous lines across the horizon and thunder which boomed so loudly that it was heard within the depths of Ravok's elite homes despite their thick walls. Bells passed and the storm seemed to only pick up speed. It didn't appear to be moving over the water so much as growing like ink permeating throw a fish bowl. All manner of fowl soared over the peaceful city. At first, it was just a few but soon the sky was speckled with beak and wing as flocks and v’s made their way toward safety.
69th of Summer
12th Bell
The day and night were filled with the distant sounds of a slow moving storm. Dawn the next day was more of the same. The morning moved along like any other day when there was a storm on the shore; just another beautiful day in Ravok with a nice breeze. The normal pattern of clouds dispersing over the city on the lake seemed as if it was going to hold true but the whistling wind and the cloud front masquerading as midnight suddenly decided to not relinquish their position. The midday sky darkened and the temperature dropped a good fifteen degrees as Syna’s light was obstructed. Thunder exploded and lightening peeled across the vast veil though the city itself seemed to be sheltered from the actual storm. No rain fell or bolts crashed down to burn the wooden structures. Thunder was heard but not felt. The constant bombardment of the storm was strange but not threatening. The wind’s velocity did increase but it barely roughed up the water and would become more of a nuisance to those with hats or loose articles like flowers, papers and other delicate trinkets.
By the time lunch had passed, there was no end in sight for the faux night. Torches were lit and Black Sun members accompanied by the City Guard walked the alleys and scuttled along in Ravosalas with torches encouraging people to remain calm and preaching the good will of Rhysol who was -at this very moment- protecting the Ravokians from the untold fury of the clouds overhead. Most people ignored the ominous dark while trying to go about their normal routines. Bakers baked bread, vendors peddled their wares and the shipyard rang out with hammers aplenty. Only a handful of people tried to take advantage of the blackened day. Kids fled from their parents if for no other reason except to hear them squawk, lovers vanished into the shadows to satiate their desires and those with an ax to grind would find a willing stone.
Amidst the day’s disruption, Ravok became a glittering gem centered on a black sheet of glass. While the Docks and Merchants’ Ring used torches, the Noble District and City Center had lanterns that swayed gently in the mild wind. The larger waterways and bridges were spanned with sparkling braziers of alchemically altered glass that changed color at certain temperatures. This magnificent display was supported by music and revelry as artists of all kinds erupted into the public gathering places to put on a show. This opportunity was not lost on those who sold drink and drug though all were very mindful of men in black attire who vigilantly stood on the sidelines to make sure no one got carried away.
16th Bell
The merriment was carried well into the afternoon and the storm showed no signs of stopping. In fact, the thunder and lightning had increased in frequency. The wind was a bit chillier but not enough to drive people out of the canals and alleyways. The more bodies in a particular area, the more the festivities seemed to thrive as the brisk breezes invigorated those whose blood had been thinned by too much wine or ale. The Black Sun had agents everywhere. They were cheering the parties and flooding Rhysol’s benevolence into every scene. If a round of shots was ordered, the god of chaos was cheered. If a song was lifted in chorus above the thunder, Rhysol’s name was in the refrain. No one took for granted how blessed he was to live under the protection of such a lord. Fealty was sworn over and over again and oaths were shared to always vocalize the greatness of the Deceiver.
Suddenly, a huge bolt of lightning struck down above the Temple of the Black Sun. As if to emphasize his presence, Rhysol’s essence (or perhaps the god himself) shattered the blinding rod of white energy in a dozen different directions horizontally over Ravok like a wagon wheel. Each refraction was a different color and brighter than any light hanging from wall or window. The air sizzled with electricity that warmed the bones from the unseasonable chill brought on by the storm. There was a moment in time where everything seemed to stop. The resonance left behind from the blast seemed to beckon every eye skyward. Rain was pouring down in sheets from the clouds but no one inside the city had any clue since the dispersed moisture was little more than flickers in the far-reaching flickers of fire from the torches below. When the massive bolt struck down and was bounced outward, the rain was visible. Where was it going? Was it simply evaporated? Was it washed along some kind of dome that protected the streets and canals? Short of a Druvin, there was no one to provide those answers.
The rain was going somewhere…
Slowly, tiny specks of light began to appear. Scattered all over the city as if hanging from some sort of canopy beneath the black clouds, iridescent flowers bloomed. The colors were all vivid and ranged from blues to purples and reds but the petals and shapes formed into many different varieties. A few chimes more of rain continued to expand the blooms until the sky was filled with this rainbow of soft light. Music stopped, jaws dropped and the wine even ceased to pour. With a gust of sweet smelling air, the blossoms began to drift down into the crowded city beneath the black cloud.
Once the last flower floated lazily down into the waiting hands of a Ravokian, the thunder and lightning stopped- almost abruptly. The clouds would continue and the storm would still batter and abuse the areas around Ravok for several more days but the city itself would slowly reclaim its status of perfect weather in time to watch Syna set on the far shore.
Boxcode credit: Karin Ironyach.
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7th Bell
PlayersThis is an unmoderated thread. You can start your own spin-off with a group of friends or just reply here. It's all in good fun so enjoy yourselves.
It was a rather strange thing when one stopped to consider the principle. Rhysol, the god of chaos, created an atmosphere that was more constant than any other place on Mizahar for his loyal subjects. Ravok had perfect weather every hour of every day; no exceptions. A literal sphere of influence kept winds to a calm breeze, prevented too much sun and burst the clouds if they tried to linger. No cold fronts, heat waves or anomalies ever disrupted the daily activities of the Black Sun as it guided the people of the floating city towards a marvelous existence in which The Deceiver was touted as the Savior.
Today was no different but otherwise oblivious eyes turned skyward to watch the spectacle. Even though the lakeshore was miles away, one could see the weather outside of the protective bubble. Above the Southern Outpost was a sight to behold; black clouds that stretched into the Ukalas, white and pink lightning that danced in treacherous lines across the horizon and thunder which boomed so loudly that it was heard within the depths of Ravok's elite homes despite their thick walls. Bells passed and the storm seemed to only pick up speed. It didn't appear to be moving over the water so much as growing like ink permeating throw a fish bowl. All manner of fowl soared over the peaceful city. At first, it was just a few but soon the sky was speckled with beak and wing as flocks and v’s made their way toward safety.
69th of Summer
12th Bell
The day and night were filled with the distant sounds of a slow moving storm. Dawn the next day was more of the same. The morning moved along like any other day when there was a storm on the shore; just another beautiful day in Ravok with a nice breeze. The normal pattern of clouds dispersing over the city on the lake seemed as if it was going to hold true but the whistling wind and the cloud front masquerading as midnight suddenly decided to not relinquish their position. The midday sky darkened and the temperature dropped a good fifteen degrees as Syna’s light was obstructed. Thunder exploded and lightening peeled across the vast veil though the city itself seemed to be sheltered from the actual storm. No rain fell or bolts crashed down to burn the wooden structures. Thunder was heard but not felt. The constant bombardment of the storm was strange but not threatening. The wind’s velocity did increase but it barely roughed up the water and would become more of a nuisance to those with hats or loose articles like flowers, papers and other delicate trinkets.
By the time lunch had passed, there was no end in sight for the faux night. Torches were lit and Black Sun members accompanied by the City Guard walked the alleys and scuttled along in Ravosalas with torches encouraging people to remain calm and preaching the good will of Rhysol who was -at this very moment- protecting the Ravokians from the untold fury of the clouds overhead. Most people ignored the ominous dark while trying to go about their normal routines. Bakers baked bread, vendors peddled their wares and the shipyard rang out with hammers aplenty. Only a handful of people tried to take advantage of the blackened day. Kids fled from their parents if for no other reason except to hear them squawk, lovers vanished into the shadows to satiate their desires and those with an ax to grind would find a willing stone.
Amidst the day’s disruption, Ravok became a glittering gem centered on a black sheet of glass. While the Docks and Merchants’ Ring used torches, the Noble District and City Center had lanterns that swayed gently in the mild wind. The larger waterways and bridges were spanned with sparkling braziers of alchemically altered glass that changed color at certain temperatures. This magnificent display was supported by music and revelry as artists of all kinds erupted into the public gathering places to put on a show. This opportunity was not lost on those who sold drink and drug though all were very mindful of men in black attire who vigilantly stood on the sidelines to make sure no one got carried away.
16th Bell
The merriment was carried well into the afternoon and the storm showed no signs of stopping. In fact, the thunder and lightning had increased in frequency. The wind was a bit chillier but not enough to drive people out of the canals and alleyways. The more bodies in a particular area, the more the festivities seemed to thrive as the brisk breezes invigorated those whose blood had been thinned by too much wine or ale. The Black Sun had agents everywhere. They were cheering the parties and flooding Rhysol’s benevolence into every scene. If a round of shots was ordered, the god of chaos was cheered. If a song was lifted in chorus above the thunder, Rhysol’s name was in the refrain. No one took for granted how blessed he was to live under the protection of such a lord. Fealty was sworn over and over again and oaths were shared to always vocalize the greatness of the Deceiver.
Suddenly, a huge bolt of lightning struck down above the Temple of the Black Sun. As if to emphasize his presence, Rhysol’s essence (or perhaps the god himself) shattered the blinding rod of white energy in a dozen different directions horizontally over Ravok like a wagon wheel. Each refraction was a different color and brighter than any light hanging from wall or window. The air sizzled with electricity that warmed the bones from the unseasonable chill brought on by the storm. There was a moment in time where everything seemed to stop. The resonance left behind from the blast seemed to beckon every eye skyward. Rain was pouring down in sheets from the clouds but no one inside the city had any clue since the dispersed moisture was little more than flickers in the far-reaching flickers of fire from the torches below. When the massive bolt struck down and was bounced outward, the rain was visible. Where was it going? Was it simply evaporated? Was it washed along some kind of dome that protected the streets and canals? Short of a Druvin, there was no one to provide those answers.
The rain was going somewhere…
Slowly, tiny specks of light began to appear. Scattered all over the city as if hanging from some sort of canopy beneath the black clouds, iridescent flowers bloomed. The colors were all vivid and ranged from blues to purples and reds but the petals and shapes formed into many different varieties. A few chimes more of rain continued to expand the blooms until the sky was filled with this rainbow of soft light. Music stopped, jaws dropped and the wine even ceased to pour. With a gust of sweet smelling air, the blossoms began to drift down into the crowded city beneath the black cloud.
Once the last flower floated lazily down into the waiting hands of a Ravokian, the thunder and lightning stopped- almost abruptly. The clouds would continue and the storm would still batter and abuse the areas around Ravok for several more days but the city itself would slowly reclaim its status of perfect weather in time to watch Syna set on the far shore.
Want a Flower? :
Boxcode credit: Karin Ironyach.
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