Solo Last Chance

Rohka is visited. She discovers a truth and rediscovers a will to live. To fight. To win. But how? Why? Is it worth the trouble?

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A city floating in the center of a lake, Ravok is a place of dark beauty, romance and culture. Behind it all though is the presence of Rhysol, God of Evil and Betrayal. The city is controlled by The Black Sun, a religious organization devoted to Rhysol. [Lore]

Last Chance

Postby Rohka on June 11th, 2019, 3:55 am

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2nd day of Summer, 519 AV

The tendrils of the blue-green feather twirled between her thin fingers. A swirl of smoke danced around the table, from the singular lit candle atop silk-covered wood. Dark yet daring orbs of curiosity stared deeply into the depths of the ocean blue glare being shot across the table. Just two silver dice lay between them, glinting a fiery mockery from the flicker of the flame.

Snake eyes.

“So why are you here, papa.”

Rohka asked her father the question as a matter of fact. They’d already finished with the pleasantries. The ‘Oh its so good to see you again, I missed you’ bit was admittedly forced on her end, but she knew she needed to say it. He had come looking for her, and he agreed to stay and be a customer at her table. To buy food from the Malt House, and to engage with her craft. It wasn’t all that surprising; for more than five years she’d been living alone in the middle of the lake instead of on the edge with her family. For more than five years, Meer’s little girl was living her life away from his immediate grasp. She knew it wasn’t easy for him. He had done his best to keep tabs on her, to have her continue to connect with the family. This type of visit was never just a ‘hello, just wanted to catch up’. It was an ask. A call to duty.

Rohka waited for her father’s reply. She placed the feather back down on the table and folded her hands in front of her, offering a slight smile, hoping the bit of warmth would invite an answer, yet knowing full well that he would circle around the root of the issue for at least half a bell until he got to his point. She had time. It was why she suggested having him choose a service from her craft. The sybil had hoped that she could at least use the time during his rambling thoughts to practice with him.

She would never admit that she wanted him to notice how much she’d improved.

It would be childish to seek parental approval. But it was exactly what she wanted, no matter how much she tried to hide it. No matter how much she thought she didn’t need it, that desire remained. And it sickened her. Because the fact was that she knew he would never approve. To Meer, this was simply a game. Always had been, always will be. To see his daughter sitting at a table in a tavern amongst the common folk of the city was never a sight he enjoyed, not even once, no matter how many times his wife had told him that she was proud of Roh. It seemed so stupid. What was the point of letting their daughter be frivolously socializing with strangers and calling it a job? This wasn’t work. This was play.

“You don’t know why I’m here, Rohka? Your dice can’t tell you that yet?” The glare pierced further into her eyes, digging for an emotion he couldn’t name. Why couldn’t she understand?

“No, papa,” she answered, her eyes now downcast, her chest tightening with impatient frustration. “That’s not how they work. Look, I wrote it down, see,” she pushed the piece of parchment over with two fingers, gently, in his direction. “Rolling two ones equals two, and a two is the highest warning of trouble ahead. I usually offer a card reading with that one because it’s the most ominous, and a customer would want to know—“

“Rohka, stop.” She looked up to see that he’d stopped glaring, that he now held his eyes closed and his eyebrows furrowed into a knot. “Just,” he brought both his elbows onto the table, resting his head in his hands. The architect wasn’t here to play games with a child. The design needed to be completed. He needed to get this over with so he could get back to work at the company, no matter what happened here. Did it matter if Vida wanted her daughter back? Didn’t matter last year. Didn’t matter the year before that. What makes this year any different?

Just because of the weather?

Meer kept his head in his hands and spoke low, enunciating every word, wanting his oldest daughter to hear—to truly hear—what he needed to ask.

“You need to come home. I’m leaving for Zeltiva before the summer turns to fall. Can you,” and he paused, looking up into her questioning gaze. She was shocked. Of course she was. He hadn’t travelled outside the city since before she was born. He brought a hand up to stop her before she could speak.

“Can you help take care of the family for me?”

WC = 797
Last edited by Rohka on June 15th, 2019, 4:07 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Last Chance

Postby Rohka on June 15th, 2019, 12:23 am

Image
She looked at her father with disbelief. He asked her so simply, as if he expected nothing less than obedience. But his eyes spoke differently. His iced eyes held hopelessness. Why? It confused her terribly. Here he was, dropping news of his eventual departure and saying nothing about it, while the tone of his voice was on the verge of demanding her to come back to the family. What was going on? What brought him to this point? The disbelief within the sybil slowly changed as she watched her father shift in his seat, impatiently waiting for a reply. He was itching to leave and it pained her to notice it. What was this? Why couldn't he just tell her what's going on? 

It had always been like this. Meer was never a reserved man, but he liked to keep things involving family matters to himself, especially if he thought no one else could take responsibility for it. He barely shared matters of real business with her; and  she knew at least that any 'real business' actually meant something deeper about the Calico structure. The man prided himself on doing his job well, on being the technical expert, on having extensive experience and being an asset to the lumber company. At the end of the day, as long as his own family was living comfortably, Meer felt his work was sufficient. Rohka knew this of course. If he was asking her to help, it must mean something at home was beyond the point of comfort. 

But those eyes. Those sad, defeated eyes. It couldn't just be because he thought she would say no. She'd refused to come home plenty of times before. There must be more, and she resolved to find out.

“Papa,” she spoke gently, the wheels of doubt and fear still turning in her mind. Was there not an easy way to get him to speak? No. She pushed the question out of her mind as soon as it appeared. She would just have to speak with him. Rohka took a deep breath, thought of Rhysol’s blessing and pushed forward with putting thoughts into words as she gazed straight into her father’s eyes. “Is something wrong?” She reached a hand out across the table slowly, seeking his. “You look so tense about this papa, and you know me. Right? You know I like it better here, you know why I avoid going back, and mama said—“

“I know what she said, Rohka.” Her hand paused. She left it stretched out, palm down, feeling simultaneously awkward in this position of seeking to comfort where it didn’t seem to be needed. The sybil left her hand there and continued. “Yes papa, but—“

“Rohka you’re not listening. I have to leave and your mother…” he stopped short and glanced to the side. “Your mother knows best.” He looked back at her, his light eyes almost pleading. “Come talk to her and you’ll understand. There’s really nothing else to say, do you hear me? You’re needed at home so can you just tell me if you can come back before I leave?” His voice seemed to rise an octave. His brows were raised too, like he was striving to escape from any discussion of the matter.

The sybil closed her eyes and let her head fall onto her outstretched arm resting on the table.

“Rohka!” Meer had brought his hand up to her wrist and shook it with a gentle force. “Why are you—“ she opened her eyes and glared at him now. He caught her glare and doubled it back at her, his tone shifting, a deeper pressure. “Look cub, I’m not coming back here to ask you again, so just give me an answer and I’ll tell your mother whatever I need to tell her.” She smirked at him, hearing the childhood nickname and finally understanding that this truly was for her mother’s sake.

The sybil lifted her head slowly as she spoke. “How long until you leave?” Meer waited a couple ticks in frustration before he answered. “Rohka, its easier if you tell me now so I can write a letter to—" “Papa, how long,” she asked again, her voice low. The architect took a deep sigh and turned his sight to the door as he considered the question. She’d asked him if he knew her and he did. He knew she wanted to know how much time she had until she could make a final decision. Meer had hoped he could get an answer quickly so he wouldn’t have to worry about it. He wondered why she couldn’t just make his life easier by doing what he needed her to do. Instead, she made him feel like he was negotiating with an employee about the particulars of seasonal work. It shouldn’t be like this. They were family. She was his oldest daughter. She should just know.

Meer kept looking through the open door. “I’ll be in the city doing business for a while. I’ll come back to find you and take you and your things with us on the ravosala back to the company. The sooner I can find the things I need here, the earlier I can leave for Zeltiva with the rest of them.”

He’d been holding her by the wrist the entire time he spoke and she’d watched his face sink into solemnity. Her father had never been this mysterious before and it angered her. The sybil couldn’t bear being patient any longer—she ripped her hand out from his grasp.

“The rest of who, papa?” She asked, her voice rising. “Why are you leaving, just tell me! How can you just expect me to come home without telling me anything about what’s going on? What kind of help can I be after all these years? You haven’t even told me how long you’ll be gone for! Can’t you tell me anything, pa?”

The sybil felt like she ran out of breath. She couldn’t make out the expression on her father’s face now, she was too upset. The pit of her stomach ached for losing her temper so quickly, for raising her voice at her father, which she hated doing. It led to pain and a whole host of feelings she tended to bottle: yearning, contempt, hopelessness, confusion. Looking at him now, it only seemed like he’d avoid her questions yet again. She was always left in the dark about the way he handles business. What makes tonight any different?

Meer glanced around the room at this point, watching to see if his daughter’s outburst had attracted attention. A couple patrons definitely stared, but the architect quickly dismissed their level of trouble. The Malt House was loud enough on its own, with it being late evening now, one of the busier times for Ravokian folks to be out enjoying themselves at such establishments. His concern dropped back down and he began to consider Rohka’s sudden flittering of worry. He really hoped he wouldn’t have to talk about it right at this moment. He had prayed to Rhysol before coming in to see her tonight, desperately wishing she wouldn’t make him talk too much about it. But of course, knowing what he knew, and being born where he was born… Rhysol never truly seemed to care.

He kept his unholy thoughts to himself and stayed silent, reaching into his rucksack after holding a finger up to signal to his daughter that he needed a tick to collect an answer for her.

WC = 1238
Last edited by Rohka on August 23rd, 2019, 4:45 am, edited 3 times in total.
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Last Chance

Postby Rohka on June 15th, 2019, 3:01 am

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"I need you to read this first." Meer unfolded a piece of parchment and placed it before her. She was about to speak when he interrupted her quickly, "You should have noticed these before. You might have read them before. But I need you to read this carefully right now. It's important that you understand at least a part of what this means before I answer everything you asked, okay? Please Rohka, I know that you're at least being trained to pay attention to your cards. If you can just give these words that exact level of focus, if not more, you'll begin to see."

The sybil's eyes scanned the letter, giving the creases and the handwriting a once over, noticing how worn and slightly torn it was along the edges, realizing that it must have been written a while ago and kept for a long time. As if he'd heard her thoughts, Meer spoke. "This specific one was posted near our home three years ago. You might have noticed similar ones with the exact same words. The message hadn't changed, I read and checked with the others that I noticed around the lakeshore. Just," he paused a tick to catch her gaze. "Read it in full."

Source

Greetings Mizaharians!

It has come to our attention that the Goddess Morwen has refused to do her duty this Season and walk forth from Avanthal where she resides to spread winter across the land. This is an insult to us, the rest of the Seasons, and irresponsible to the core. There is no reason, great or small, for a Season to shirk their duty. And this is definitely what has happened.

There will be repercussions.

We have hired an elite group of people to make sure these repercussions happen. We have the support of the other Gods in this endeavor. We will hunt down every follower of Morwen - every single marked member of her 'family' - and call for their death. Yes. We are calling for the outright slaughter of Morwen's children until such a time as Morwen resumes her duty or steps aside.

We prefer that She steps aside and gives her powers over to another.

To this end will will send PRIESTS and PRIESTESSES of our faith to every city in the land. To assure the success of this venture, these followers will be paying a bounty on the bodies of any follower turned into them. A coin payoff of 1,000 Mizas will be the reward.

Without Winter happening, the land becomes seriously damaged. Snow packs don't accumulate so drought is guaranteed in the Spring and Summer of the land. Wildfires will abound. Insects will flood the land unchecked. They will damage crops and forests without mercy. Spring plants will bloom early and often miss the windows of their pollinators. Seeds that depend on winter freeze will not germinate. Animal migrations will be off schedule and some will starve and die. The predator season of plenty will not occur so that predators will be forced to move into population centers to find easier foodstuff and raze these areas.

We will show no Mercy to Morwen or Her followers for this gross derelict of duty. If She refuses to step down, we will be forced to replace her anyhow and we will do it with the strongest display of power we see during this manhunt. No one will be safe. And if someone is caught offering shelter to the Vantha marked by Morwen, such as a city or group, we will turn our wrath on them as well and include them in the bounty. Look for our Priests and Priestesses. Show them respect. Enjoy collecting the bounties they offer.

Lessons must be learned.

Bala, Tavasi & Sivah

OOC Storyteller and Player Notes :
A few things to note:

  • These notices have been posted in every city and crossroads in Mizahar. They included a detailed explanation of what a Vantha looks like (Vantha traits etc) along with a sketch of what a Morwen Gnosis Mark looks like. Any PC reading the notice IC will be awarded lore of Vantha: Physical Traits, Vantha: Follows Morwen, and Morwen: What a Morwen Mark Looks Like (Graders take note).
  • Storytellers... please create Priests and Priestess NPCs (3 Marks) of each Season in your city and feel free to pay players who bring Vantha bodies to them. Kills must be well rp'd out. NPC kills count, but make sure the threads aren't bogus. Also note that PCs or Cities sheltering Vantha will be treated no different than Morwen Followers themselves and paid a bounty for. If an entire city gets involved (say Lhavit decides to shelter Vantha) then the Seasons will raise hell in that city and do their damnedest to wipe it off the face of the world.


The words began to register in her mind again. Her father’s gaze, so cerulean, so deeply vivid, now looked back at her with what she recognized as loneliness. Her stomach panged with a feeling she couldn’t recognize but her mind still swirled in confusion.

“I know," Meer began. "You thought it didn’t matter to me. I’ve been gone for so long, why would it concern me? I told you everything was taken care of, and it’s true alright? Believe me.” He took a moment to let that settle in. He needed her to believe him.

“There’s more to it, cub. A lot more. And if you can believe it, the whole thing is affecting the company far worse than I or your mother have let on. The dangers…” his voice trailed off, and the sybil could see that he was doing that thing again. The thing where he covers his true feelings with preoccupations about work. It was like she was looking in a mirror for the first time, not believing what she was seeing. Not wanting to notice the true depth behind the orbs of ocean blue. Not willing to drown in the core of all that they shared.

Rohka chimed in, feeling a sense that she needed to pull away from the weight he was beginning to feel. “You’re not a Vantha anymore, Papa. You never really were, isn’t that what you told us?” Rohka spoke softly, asking the question that she thought she’d heard the answer to, countless times before.

“No,” he paused. That was all that should matter. Their family was safe. “No, I’m—“ and his tone shifted, as if something pained him, his eyes squinting. “My father, your grandpa, he’s Vantha. You know this. I haven’t heard from him for a couple seasons now. He used to send letters, he visited when you were a little girl. He was being protected by your mother’s connections in Zeltiva.”

Rohka’s grandfather had been a part of the Iceglaze hold in a city called Avanthal. It was a complex family that was mainly responsible for building and crafting houses, weapons, furniture and the like. The Iceglaze had skills in architecture and design, carpentry and business, and Meer's father was certainly not an exception. Meer was born in Zeltiva and learned the trade. The familial joke had been that ‘fate’ brought Vida Calico and Meer Iceglaze together. The stories slowly filtered into her mind. The realization started to build. The questions multiplied.

But the sybil held back.

“Yes, papa,” she gauged her father carefully. It was a bit difficult for her to process what exactly was going on. “So you’re going to Zeltiva to find grandpa?” She kept the question simple, to reflect the bit of information she was told.

Meer let out a slow, relieved sigh. He knew she was keeping herself from digging further and it brought a slight smile to what was once a severely troubled face. “Yes, cub. Papa is going to go find the old man. And I need you to keep watch at home. Can you do that for me?” He asked again, feeling far more confident about the answer.

WC = 734
Last edited by Rohka on August 23rd, 2019, 4:46 am, edited 2 times in total.
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Last Chance

Postby Rohka on June 15th, 2019, 3:56 am

Image
“I can’t.”

They’d spoken so softly up until now, for obvious reasons. With a kill order out, it was almost idiotic to be speaking about her father’s history in such a public place.

But it was downright stupid to refuse in a tone so defiantly loud.

Eyes looked towards them now, and it was only Meer who noticed as he snapped his head left and right to take count of the strangers around them. There was a quizzical glance from a man two tables away on Meer’s right and a concerned ‘ou’ from a woman behind his daughter. Meer huffed, his gaze downcast now, a sense of betrayal beginning to build within him.

Didn’t she understand now? After everything she knew about the family, she decides not to help? It was impossible. He knew he raised her better than that. The gears behind his eyes spun quicker. Maybe she was overwhelmed. It could be that she genuinely feels incapable and all she needs is encouragement. Yes, that’s it.

“Rohka,” he said her name with strength, as it was meant to be spoken. “You can. I know you can.”

“No,” she replied in equal strength, her eyes locked on his. “I wo—“

“Don’t,” the interruption was quick, with a hand held up as he pushed his chair back. “That’s enough,” he said softly, looking down at the dice. The snake eyes.

Meer let himself smirk when he’d realized what had occurred here. His daughter was right. She gave him the highest warning of trouble. She gave it and she fulfilled it. What a petchin’ game.

He was done thinking about this any longer. He would have to come back anyways. He would be thinking about it when he goes to sleep—if he goes to sleep. The circling thoughts, the care, the worry, the pain, the needs, the wants… the work. Oh gods, the work. Rhysol, he prayed in his mind, why do you put my daughter in such a state? It’s your fault. It has to be your fault. You say it’s all you, don’t you? You say its all meant to be for you, don’t you? Well then enlighten me, lord. Help me see your way.

The architect watched as his daughter began to tidy the table, seemingly unconcerned. It was exactly like the time she asked to leave the Calico home—that cold, uncaring, inapproachable demeanour. He hated it.

“Tell Grayson I said goodbye,” he stated it in a tone that attempted to match her frozen performance. “I need to pick something up from him so I’ll be back when I can.” Meer pushed the chair in, picked up his rucksack and walked away.

The sybil watched him leave through the open wooden door, listening to the sounds around her, of laughter and boisterous, jovial, life. He never looked back.

A tear ran down her cheek as she blew out the candle.

WC = 482
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Rohka
So?
 
Posts: 345
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Joined roleplay: May 24th, 2013, 5:28 pm
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Mizahar Grader (1)

Last Chance

Postby Rohka on September 3rd, 2019, 4:22 am

GRADES
rohka

Experience
    Fortune Telling +1
    Interrogation +1
    Observation +1

Lores:
    Fortune Telling: Snake Eyes are ominous
    Meer: Thinks fortune-telling is a game
    Meer: An architect
    Meer: A half-Vantha without Morwen’s mark
    Meer: His father is missing in Zeltiva
    Meer: His father was part of the Iceglace hold
    Location: Avanthal
    Avanthal: Iceglaze Hold builds homes, weapons, furniture
    Rohka: Secretly seeks parental approval
    Rohka: Nicknamed ‘cub’ by Meer
    Vantha: Physical Traits
    Vantha: Follows Morwen
    Morwen: What a Morwen Mark Looks Like

Additional Notes:

Will she leave?! :o



If you have any concerns over this grade, don't hesitate to send me a message on either Discord or Miz.
-Rohka ❤
Most active on weekends.
User avatar
Rohka
So?
 
Posts: 345
Words: 366352
Joined roleplay: May 24th, 2013, 5:28 pm
Location: Zeltiva
Race: Human
Character sheet
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