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RE: People Movers, Inc. (Open Forum RP)

Slawler — Sat, 04 May 2013 00:13:00 GMT

Ariane and her grandaughter glide over, each carrying a glass of red wine, to the Board &c. Ali gives a slight curtsy; Ariane does not. The older drowess speaks, "Ladies and gentlemen. My lord husband sends his regrets that he is unable to be here, but from what I've seen so far, I am sure he would have enjoyed your lovely party. I am Lady Ravenroost, of House Paelion ir'Wroann d'Lartil, and this is my granddaughter, Adrialae, Lady Wygrove. A pleasure to make all of your acquaintances, we're sure."

RE: People Movers, Inc. (Open Forum RP)

okram — Thu, 25 Apr 2013 06:52:00 GMT

Frodarick, who's nervous fidgeting was threatening to shake his suit apart calms visibly and offers Aluatris a wide smile upon her arrival. He is nearly beaming after the brief kiss and her effortless transition into charismatic center of the party leaves him in awe.

He would like so much to pull her away from the party and enjoy some time together as this project had strained what precious little time they managed together as it was. But instead he smiles and holds his ground. He blinks a few times as he realizes she had asked a question.

"Uh... err..." Frodarick says with some hesitation. What were their names again? He had just thought of them by their titles more than anything. They were surrounded by THE BOARD as he thought of it, although most had a similarly well dressed and beautiful wife, mistress, or escort attached to their arms just as now Frodarick was ever so relieved to have Aluatris's arm intertwined with his.

Gilt, as usual, stood forward and offered the couple a wide smile, "Lady Aluatris! It is so nice to meet you at last! Frodarick has told me so many lovely things about you but he has clearly not done any justice to describing your lovely appearance."

He grins and leans back as if trying to take the couple in, Frodarick goes slightly rigid under the man's focus. "Here, here, let me introduce you to the Board of directors. Of course you know our Chief Engineer, Mister Frodarick." Gilt has positions himself on the increasingly nervous Frodarick's right, and positions a possessive arm once again across the nervous half-elf's shoulder. With his free hand he points from left to right.

He starts with a short skinny man with a well groomed mutton chops and long curly black hair. Outside of Gilt he appears to be the only other board member without a date, "There is our Chief Financial Officer, Mister Ches Ikimo."

The next is a tall slender human well into his late 70's if not older. He is accompanied by an elder yet beautiful woman in her 50's, both have well groomed silver hair with fabulously wealthy dress and overly showy jewelery. "This is our Chief Legal Advisor, Mister Vytan Delet and his lovely wife Misses Samtia."

The next pair was a dwarven couple, the male was dressed in the regal uniform of house Kunderak while the female wore the highest of Sharn fashions in only a slightly smaller, stockier form. "Our Chief Investment Officer, Darete d'Kunderak and his lovely escort misses Issina." The dwarves nod respectfully.

The next human member introduced was a short petite woman that if not for her smooth ears and features might have been considered a tall halfling and a large muscular man stood locked possessively in her arms, "this is Misses Iaris Moos and her escort, she is in charge of public relations."

The last officer was elven dressed in a rich flashy silver suit and, short and slender as his race often were with fiery red hair and green eyes. He offered Aluatris a familiar grin. "Our chief of property acquisition, Mister Sunky Piky and his lovely wife Misses Isilmisian."

Frodarick slipped his free hand into his jacket and examines his pocket watch and notices the time, "er uh... are we not uh supposed to be on the mirror uh the uh podium uh... to uh... start the commencement and uh...?"

"In due time, my boy!" Gilt says with his continued joviality. "As you should be well aware of from the lovely lady on your left, the cream of the crop never arrive to anything on time. We'll give high society another half hour or so to mingle before we position ourselves on the mirror caster."

RE: People Movers, Inc. (Open Forum RP)

Songsteel — Thu, 25 Apr 2013 02:51:00 GMT

    Even amidst the flashy structures comprising Korranath, the glassy base of People Movers, Inc. was remarkable. Aluatris struts towards the building with her head held high, desensitized to the displays of wealth by having been raised in upper Sharn. But Holden, dumbfounded by the sheer audacity of the site, follows behind her slowly, eyes lingering on every expensive detail in uncharacteristic engagement.
    The elf wears a knee-length sheath dress in a deep shade of amethyst with a corset-style bodice. It sits tight against the body except for a discrete flair at the hem. Silver vines are embroidered in the top section, as well as a few roses in a wine-inspired maroon. Her lips are stained the same rich hue. Round-topped and expertly tailored, the bodice accomplishes its goal of enhancing Aluatris’s breasts. Narrow bands of fabric that form the sleeves extend straight out from the top of the dress, leaving her shoulders exposed. A chunky wine-coloured stone hangs around her neck on a simple silver chain ((which Frodarick, and possibly others, would recognize as the “hypnostone” he gave her)). Satin lavender gloves that end at her elbows adorn her hands. Her hair cascades in loose, auburn waves to just past her shoulders, held back from her face by a viny metallic circlet.
    Feeling conspicuously spotless, Holden actually looks fit for the party they are about to enter. His new armour retains its showroom gleam, his recently-trimmed hair is tucked neatly behind his ears, and his face has been scoured to a visible clean. The insignia of the Sovereign Host is embossed in the centre of his breastplate, and hints of blue and gold appear in a few choice places to make the battlefield-ready attire appear dressier. Leather gloves and combat boots, both black, are the only pieces with more form than function.
    Once inside, the sound of applause is evident, and Aluatris curses under her breath in Aereni. She whispers a revised announcement to the herald that she hopes will atone for her tardiness; he smirks patronizingly but does not comment. An usher is brought forth who takes her arm.
    “Lady Aluatris Songsteel Vhelune, beloved of Mister Frodarick Frankenstein. And Sir Holden Milner, her retainer.”
    Already starting to regret his decision, Holden wastes no time peeling away from the crowd and locating a vantage point. Aluatris, on the other hand, abandons her escort and makes her way to Frodarick, who she has no trouble locating in his prominent position. She snatches a wine flute off a server’s tray along with way with a singsong ‘thank you’.
    “Darling!” All smiles, Aluatris plants a quick kiss on the half-elf’s cheek before wrapping her right arm through Frodarick’s left. “So sorry I’m late. Funny story, really; I’ll have to tell you later. But, oh, the inauguration seems to be coming along marvellously.”
    Glancing around at the surprisingly-numerous staff, her eyes narrow in thought and her smile adopts a slightly wicked edge. “Won’t you introduce me to our special guests?”

RE: People Movers, Inc. (Open Forum RP)

Slawler — Wed, 24 Apr 2013 02:57:00 GMT

A pair of ladies appear arm-in-arm outside the main entrance to the Stormreach location of the party, dressed in high Aundairan style.
The first is a drow, of average height for her race, with light gray skin, snow white hair, and ruby eyes. She looks to be perhaps middle-aged, for a drow. She wears a long black silk brocade opera coat embroidered in silver thread and studded with diamonds. The coat has peaked shoulders and a high, open collar, framing her neck and cheekbones, and lending prominence to a platinum choker, from which hangs a raven pendant of the same material, with eyes of black sapphire. Several platinum rings with black stones cover black satin opera gloves. Her hair is plaited down the sides into a bun at the back and topped with a kokoshnik-style fringe tiara. The opera coat is secured by buttons to the waist before breaching to reveal a black floor-length glammerweave gown. Black boots with a slight heel and silver detail and a black, jewel-studded clutch complete the outfit.
The second is young and half-elven, slightly taller than most, with raven hair and gray eyes. She wears a cloth of gold stole over a dress of emerald satin, with a narrow body and sweeping skirt. A gold and emerald comb holds up a French twist, a matinee riviere necklace of gold and emerald graces her decolletage, and hands gloved in gold satin hold a clutch of the same materials.
The pair relinquish hold of each other's arms and glide into the building together. The older woman hands the herald a pair of calling cards, and two ushers leave the waiting line to escort the ladies as they are announced.
"The Right Honourable Lady Ravenroost, wife of The Right Honourable Lord Arachan Ravnroost, and their granddaughter, Adrialae, Lady Wygrove!"
The pair split from their escorts at the party floor, and mingle gracefully with the city's oldest elite families.

RE: People Movers, Inc. (Open Forum RP)

okram — Tue, 23 Apr 2013 18:47:00 GMT

Not for the first time Frodarick feels uncomfortably confined by his black suit. He was sure it made him look as handsome and eloquent as the tailor had insisted but he would much prefer to be in his work jumpsuit or even his dragonscales than the confining pressed black cloth and silk.

He stands in the center of a large crowd of well dressed individuals assembled in the large half circle that makes up the Sharn station of People Mover's, Inc. In the middle of the circle the silvery portal connecting them to Stormreach is shimmering in and out with activity as well dressed servers make final preperations for the gala as they set up countless chairs in the large hall facing towards the portal. A buffet with dishes as diverse as the population of Khoravaire is being assembled and glasses of champagne and rich wines are poured out ready for the incoming party. Frodarick knows the exact same layout is being set up on the other side and in fact Gilt had gone so far as to attempt to hire twins to make even the waiting staff appear as mirror images on each side of the portal. However after that plan had failed he opted to hire servers who looked as similar as possible to each other which in their uniforms did make them look almost eerily alike.

It is now less than an hour before the grand opening and Gilt is giving a pep talk to the assembled staff. Frodarick sighs inwardly as he sips timidly at his champagne and then focuses on the amassed crowd of people. A staff? What had happened, where did all these new faces come from? He was aware of the logistical needs of security and gate keepers. They also had under his insistance hired a pair of artificers to help maintain the portals and Frodarick had trained them with the technique to create new ones for future expansion. He would have understood the massed crowd if the construction workers were here but they had their own celebration *separate* from the real staff of People Movers, Inc.

No, instead there was a board of directors, five members besides himself and Gilt in charge of foreign concepts to Frodarick of Public Relations, Chief Legal Council, Growth Outlook Forecasting, and Financial Operations. Each of these board members had their own staff of half a dozen and the company apparently had been collecting accountants and lawyers faster than a starved half-orc can gobble up a buffet.

Glittering brightly next to Frodarick and standing rigidly at attention is Sparky. Frodarick had early transmuted the outer layer of admantine into well polished silver but the space next to Frodarick still feels empty and what really has him worried is Aluatris's tardiness. His charismatic better half was much better suited for these social gatherings than him and he was not particularly thrilled about her being fashionably late while he was forced to attempt small talk with the elites of two societies mixing together.

"...and with that, we shall have an amazing success and bring prosperity to us all!" Gilt says to a light applause from the crowd.

Frodarick realizes he has missed most of the speech in his musings and joins in with a polite applause himself with his white gloved hands but finds it awkward as he tries not to spill his drink during the process. The large human with his long black hair saunters over to Frodarick and puts a possesive arm around the now squirming half-elf.

"None of this of course would be possible without the brilliant Frodarick Frankenstein. Frodarick! Any how bout a toast to our launch?"

Frodarick stammers a half dozen, 'Uh's and 'Er's at being put under such immediate pressure.

"Now now, I'm sure you have something inspiring for us."

Frodarick breathes in a few times then raises his crystal flute of sparkling champagne. He pauses a moment then finally stammers out, "uh er... to uh... convenient travel for uh... all and uh... a good launch..."

"I'll drink to that!" Gilt replies with overly forced joviality.

The crowd offers a hearty agreement and then drain their glasses.

Frodarick does likewise and then wishes he could find a convenient office or closet to hide in for the next few hours.

(Feel free to have your characters start arriving now, assume super formal party with announcer introducing guests and whatnot. The portal will be roped off though so at the beginning those arriving in Sharn will be on Sharn's side and those in Stormreach will be in Stormreach)

Darkness and Light (Indirectly related to Tumult)

Smudge_ddo — Tue, 23 Apr 2013 07:04:00 GMT

It had been a terrible day. Fires had raged in a section of old warehouses just off of one of the wharves in a tumbled down section of the harbor. Two of the buildings were rumored to be storage for some of the Night Tide's illicit merchandise. The third was hideout for some of the Bilge Rat's lowest ranking members, as well as crash space for many of the city's homeless children who had banded together and taken to violent crime, calling themselves the Fleas. All had burned to the ground.

Normally, the destruction of some gang's goods, the death of a few thugs, thieves, cutthroats, and drug-pushers wouldn't be so troubling, but the manner in which it had occurred had been horrifying. The buildings' guards had been brutally murdered, limbs severed, throats slashed to the bone, the bodies left to lie in the streets for the stray dogs and rats. Then, every exit to the buildings, even the bolt-holes beneath, had been sealed up from the outside securely, and the warehouses set ablaze. Not one person, not even the children, had escaped alive.

Smudge had come to find Nuadia shortly after the fires had begun. The halfling had done much to aid and protect the street children of the city, having been one herself, and had friends amongst the Fleas. One of the children had come to her, distraught, and begged her to help the fire-wagons get through. It seemed that with all the violence in the city of late, the citizenry did not mind the idea of some gang territory burning down, in fact, they reveled in it, and did what they could to encourage it.

In the end, they had managed to help get the wagons through and Nuadia had been ready to aid any injured, but they had been too late. The devastation was total. Only through hard work and the aid of a pair of water sorcerers, had they managed to keep the flames from spreading any further.

Nuadia rubbed a soot coated hand over her face and pulled an old wooden chair, marred with a multitude of scratches and deep gouges, from beside the door in her entryway. It creaked under her as she sat and began the almost meditative routine of undoing buckles and loosening laces to remove her armor. Each piece she removed and placed carefully on the stand beside her, lightened the weight on her body, but it could not lighten the leaden feeling in her mind and heart.

They'd questioned those who had been in the area at the time of the fire, and Nuadia had hoped against hope that her gut feeling would not be right. That one of her dearest friends could not be the one who did such a terrible thing. Time and time again, however, they mentioned seeing a man with long, dark hair and short facial hair, wielding a black, bloodied sword, leaving the area. No one gave a name, but she knew at least one of them had known him.

Nalinor.

How could he have done such a thing? He was an assassin, sure. He was the son of one of the leaders of organized crime in Sharn, and had grown up steeped in it. But these were children! The thought of the fear and the pain in which they had died... Nuadia shuddered in revulsion, her hands balling into fists. She had always known him to be different than others of his profession. He had a heart. He had his own code of morals. He went out of his way to protect Mary and his sister. He was a good man at his core.

She sighed heavily and leaned her elbows on her knees, resting her head on her hands. It was that sword. What had he called it? Ink. There was no doubt it was affecting him, twisting him. He had left too quickly the last time she had seen him, for her to be able to do anything about it, and she'd not been able to find him since. He'd spoken of cleansing the city, and now it had begun.

Uneven footsteps came thumping down the stairs between her living area and the one Kerta rented out. Quickly the cleric straightened, wiping the start of moisture from the corners of her eyes and composing herself. A moment later, the halfling limped into the entryway, leaning on a cane of denswood topped with a polished steel ball. Behind her came the stoic half-elf, quiet and vigilant, as always. As was her usual habit, the girl stood much taller than her natural height, having used one magical item or another to bring her to about five feet tall. Nuadia often wondered if that didn't have more to do with the half-elf, than the girl's complaints that the world was built for big people.

Under Kerta's arm was tucked a large package tied closed with strings and topped with an envelope. Judging by her posture, it wasn't particularly light.

“Hey, Nuadia!” She called out, smiling. “Package came for ya.” Her expression changed, brow furrowing, as she took in the coating of soot through the cleric's blonde hair, the dark smudges on her face, the weary expression she was trying to hide. “Rough day?”

Nuadia nodded. “Rather. There was trouble in the harbor. But, I am home now. It is over, for the time being.” She held out her hands for the package. “Do you know who it is from?”

“I think it says Nalinor on the envelope. I don't know. I wasn't being nosy.” Kerta handed the package off, and lingered a little way away, expression curious.

The minute her hands touched the box, Nuadia knew why. The package radiated magic, strong positive energy. After the day she had, the feelings of peace, of safety that washed over her, were deeply welcome. She worked her fingers under the envelope of unbleached paper that was secured to the top, addressed to her and signed by Nalinor, and lifted it off. Inside was a letter. It read:

Dearest Nuadia,

I...I don't have much time to write...and the ink does strange things to my eyes. Swimming and swimming. The liquid moves on the parchment...it...it. What's that? What do you say to me?

Ah! My mind wanders, Nuadia. I found TWO things that day. One was a Mace. I think it stands in opposition to Ink...to my sword. I'm the sword's...I'm...its human? Is that true? Can that be?

Oh no! The ink is moving again. It glares at me!!! What can I do now? I...I...feel it moving in my head. Nuadia, use the Mace! Find a way to break the blade! I send it onto you before I ruin all. I see what I do but it is not me doing it. Gods forgive...all I know is fire and night, shadow and screams...

Nalinor

Nuadia frowned deeply as she read over the letter, blue eyes full of worry, frustration. Her fears were confirmed. It had been Nalinor, and the sword had him in compulsion. The way the thing had looked when she had looked upon it after casting a detect evil spell! It had slithered with oily darkness, inky and black, hungry. To think that thing had a hold upon his mind.

She set the letter aside with shaking hands. Soot smeared the paper where she had held it, leaving streaks of darkness, kin to the sword's corruption.

Kerta watched, a frown of concern growing as the cleric reacted to what she read. “What's wrong?”

Nuadia just shook her head as she untied the strings and pulled the lid from the box, not having the words to answer. Nestled inside was a mace, beautifully forged, and inlaid with intricate divine runes. It glowed with a soft white radiance that shimmered and flickered off the steel.

Her eyes widened and she reached in to pull it out. As her hand met the grip, she had the feeling of a mind touching hers, ever so gently. The glow flared into an almost blinding brilliance, and she felt a sense of deep approval before it faded back to its original radiance. A feeling of calm wrapped around her like an old, well loved blanket. Not a compulsion, but a feeling of comfort, soothing and assuring. The weapon had no interest in controlling her, only in being used for good, to protect, to make things right. They would make things right.

The feeling of foreboding, the worry, the heart deep ache, began to subside. The gods had listened to her fervent prayers and here was her answer. With this there was hope. If it was as Nalinor said, the opposition to Ink, there was a way to put an end to the evil that was that sword, to free her friend from its corruption before it tainted him indelibly.

Nuadia looked up to find the halfling staring at her, eyes a little wide. The cleric smiled slightly, her face lit with awe, and finally answered. “It is okay... It will be all right.”

RE: Director!

Praut Ektor — Tue, 23 Apr 2013 04:50:00 GMT

Michael Bay, obviously.

Director!

Nklos — Tue, 23 Apr 2013 04:27:00 GMT

If you could have one director direct the rest of your characters life (your rp stories, guild chat, chatting in the bar.) Who would you have direct it?

Nklos = Jim Abrahams

RE: People Movers, Inc. (Open Forum RP)

Songsteel — Mon, 22 Apr 2013 21:14:00 GMT

    Aluatris tilts her head meditatively as she examines the gowns draped across her bed. It was vain, perhaps, to put so much thought into her appearance, narcissistic to expect so many eyes on her, but as a guest of honour she did not want to reflect poorly on Frodarick on his big night. Besides, it had been far too long since she’d attended a posh event in Sharn, and after years of adventuring she found the woman in her yearning for such extravagance.
    Everything had happened so fast, but that brought more relief than anything. Supportive though she tried to be, part of her begrudged the time Frodarick devoted to this venture. So she was glad to be putting the frenzy of the past couple weeks behind them.
    Decided, she returns her clothes to their proper place and departs from the guildhall. She sighs in pleasure as the sun kisses her skin, relishing in the promise of summer. In high spirits, she whistles cheerily back at the chirping birds as she strolls down Silversmith Road to a now-familiar doorstep.
    A wild-haired gnome answers her knock a minute later. “Ah,” he says in his absurd drawl, “Miss Songsteel. How may I be of assistance today?”
    “Is Holden around?”
    “Yes, yes. Just a moment, my lady.”
    The paladin makes an appearance on the threshold shortly, armoured as always. “Good afternoon.”
    Thrusting out a thick white envelope, Aluatris smiles. “People Movers, Inc. is hosting a celebration tonight. I know you’re not exactly the gala type, but I thought you might like to attend.”
    Holden raises his eyebrows minutely in surprise as he takes in the silver acronym on the exterior of the invitation. “Not exactly my field of expertise, no.” After a pause, he nods. “I’ll go. Good opportunity to try ‘loosening up’, as you put it.” His face darkens as another thought occurs to him. “And someone needs to look out for your safety.”
    “I hope your protection will not be needed, but I appreciate the offer. Bridge the gap between two of the most dangerous places in Eberron and I suppose the possibility is always there…” Momentarily erased by Holden’s melancholy, Aluatris’s smile quickly returns. “Try not to dwell on such thoughts, though. It’s a celebration.”

RE: People Movers, Inc. (Open Forum RP)

Red rp — Sun, 21 Apr 2013 18:39:00 GMT

Karathinel rubs her eyes and grumbles in annoyance at the tediousness of her work as she pours over accounting ledgers, shipping manifests, and troop rosters. In response to her frustration the air around her is charged, nearly crackling with static. Her newest personal assistant, who's name she reminds herself that she ~really~ should learn if he is still around next week, knocks at the door. He waits patiently for a few minutes as she ignores him until she gives up on finding any free capital to purchase provisions with and growls at him with misplaced displeasure.

"What? What is it?"
"Mistress Kara," the young man squeaks. "There is a-a letter for you. A-an invitation, I think!"

Karathinel chuckles and the electric tingle slowly fades as her mind shifts gears to consider this new business. She holds her hand out for the invitation, reading it over carefully several times. "People Movers, Inc. I have never heard of them. Have you?" Her assistant anxiously shakes his head 'no' very rapidly. "Trans-Continental Permanent Teleportation Portal System. I've never heard of such a thing before, have you?" He once again quickly denies any knowledge. "This hardly sounds like the type of thing that a mercenary captain would be invited to. Unless...." Karathinel purses her lips and leans forward as she turns the paper over in her hands a couple of times. "Learn what you can of this 'People Movers, INC.'. Who the interested parties are. Who pays the bills for it, who does the work on it, who designed it. Whatever you can. Someone seemed to think that there was a reason for me to be there, and I have a sneaking suspicion as to who that might be."

Karathinel stands up and sighs happily as she smooths her tunic. She forgets all about the pile of work to be done on her desk and instead heads over to the other side of her office to examine her reflection in the mirror. "Do what you can to find those answers for me, so that I will know what exactly I am walking into." She grins a very wide, toothy smile as she examines the Elven features and dark skin staring back at her in the mirror. "I will have to see about finding a 'guest' for this little celebration!"