Quantcast Ascendance - Nes - Page 2 - The Writer's Block
Refresh the page...
forums KidPub Home

Go Back   The Writer's Block > Writing > Never Ending Stories
 FAQ Calendar Search Today's Posts Mark Forums Read

Reply
 
Thread Tools Display Modes
  #11  
Old 12-13-2018, 12:55 PM
SilverMoon SilverMoon is offline
Senior Member
 
Join Date: Sep 2011
Location: palmetto state
Posts: 11,003
Default

Ok cool!! I'll probably make a character or two that's not a competitor, then like, maybe a competitor if no one else wants it.
__________________
this and this and this
Reply With Quote
  #12  
Old 12-13-2018, 04:32 PM
maxi maxi is offline
Senior Member
 
Join Date: May 2010
Location: The land down under
Posts: 12,824
Default

Niceeee it'll be fun as!!
__________________
What a wonderful caricature of intimacy
Raindrops on roses and
Girls in white dresses and
Sleeping with roaches and
Taking best guesses
At the shade of the sheets and
Before all the stains
Reply With Quote
  #13  
Old 12-14-2018, 04:48 AM
maxi maxi is offline
Senior Member
 
Join Date: May 2010
Location: The land down under
Posts: 12,824
Default

Decided to start writing Ascendance! Whenever you guys want to join in, go ahead. Just inform us--unless your character is a Competitor from one of the three differing kingdoms--which direction your character is located. My character is a high-ranked daughter of the Lord of the North. So that is the north of the Empire of Kinshirrin. I'm sorry this is so long, but I'm really into detailed fantasy and would have written more but I would get carried away. Nonetheless, please read each post of the NES as it might contain vital information! You guys can add any aspect of the world of Kinshirrin if you want (gods, goddesses, kingdom legends, myths, creatures, mages, magic systems)! Anything! Any questions, just ask!

_______________________

Saelia Ryenns, Competitor of the North of the Empire of Kinshirrin, kept a look of feigned interest in her eyes as she sat at her father’s royal banquet.

Amongst the glimmering lights, like fireflies hauled into a crystallised bulb, was the clamour and din of noises rising up from the surface of reality, a rippling pool of conversation. Around the table were diplomats, lords, lairds, ladies and even the High Priestesses that worshipped eternal chthonic beings. Everywhere from dark-skinned to cream to light, from blue eyes to gold to purple, from mistresses to maids to mages—the Northern Nation’s highly-ranked ambassadors had amalgamated all sorts of peoples to contribute to the cause: food.

The food ranged from lobster to fish to glistening lamb roasts, from tarts to breadsticks to immaculately cooked soup imported from the far expanses of the world, thus leaving an exquisite and hummingbird-soft aftertaste in Saelia’s mouth. Despite her lack of keenness towards the banquets that her father now regularly held—as the lead-up to the Struggle, the annual competition of the three disunited kingdoms, began soon enough—Saelia couldn’t help but fall in tangible love with the entity that was food.

And yet, within her very bare self was nothing but a kernel of hope for the future. No matter the consequences of this so-called ‘meeting,’ Saelia did not see her blonde self participating in any more of these events any time soon. All she could do whilst in this gorgeously crafted room was clutch her fingers into fists and wish for a time where she could unleash her powers, a metaphysical presence that would float through the air like an incorporeal warp of emotions.

Instead, she sat, an awareness of the intelligence in the room perking up like some dog who’d caught sound of a sharp whistle. She was cognisant of every movement, every languid action and every pour of the wine. She was aware of her father when he leaned over to whisper something to one of his mistresses, the poor thing. Her bastard father, the Lord of the snow-swept North, had been nothing but a curse in her life that spread its wings like some shadow enclosing her. His breath stank of fugue, of nights lost in the consumption of things better left forgotten, of days spent in mortal peril against invading enemies. He was a man lost in his own time—and one that, like the consumed things, were better left forgotten.

She swept her eyes with a dancer’s grace to where the Lady of Peikala crooned in a cat’s purr to a nearby mage, the Magus of Flame, Harlin Aberna. Harlin was an infamous mage in that he had created some of the most-known spells in mankind’s history: the birthing rune, the curse spell and the crafting unit were all designed by Harlin, a peculiar man who more often than not gave Saelia nightmarish thoughts.

“Father,” Saelia interjected, pouting like a lost pup.

The Lord’s eyes narrowed to squints as he swivelled to meet her own, as if in deadly answer.

“The Struggle. Shouldn’t we be discussing that, instead of waiting around for the others?” she queried.

“Saelia, darling,” the Lord murmured. “Part of politics is allowing your allies into the cusp of your hand, letting them breathe and talk and mingle. Then, we slowly bring our fingers of conversation down around them, pressuring them into unveiling harsh words and even harsher intentions.”

“Isn’t that… a little threatening?” Saelia mused. She’d been interested in the royalty, the mannerisms of the courts. But ever since that night some few years ago, she felt as if she’d been branded and used by the players of this nationwide game.

“Political pressures is very popular nowadays, dear. And, frankly, you need to understand why.”

“This kingdom,” she stated, “is only running effectively because of our allies, I guess, so… Perhaps you’re right.”

The Lord smiled, toothy and vile. “Of course I am. I am the reigning monarch of this divine dynasty of the north. I must uphold the principles of the people and ensure…”

The words sent a dull drill into the base of Saelia’s skull. She’d heard this before; in fact, she’d heard it so many times that she was certain she could recite the words he said off by heart, but she hadn’t the time or effort for it. Instead, she nodded along at the approximately appropriate times.

Harlin Aberna said to the Lady of Peikala later on in the banquet’s night, “Would you like a stroll to your chambers, Lady? I’m sure that I can accompany you there, what with this coming storm and all.”

Saelia glanced outside before perking up her brow. The night was dark and full of unimaginable horrors in the form of far-away assassins, yes, but there were no storm-clouds or thunderheads a-brewing. Perhaps it was a metaphorical phrase, something to infer an approaching menace of imminence—a plan years upon years in the making.

Yet, the Competitor of the North knew it. She’d felt it within herself for some time now like an answer to a long-awaited question, a yearning that gripped her heart and filled her mind with endless queries. It was upon strange nights like these, brimming with mystery and the essence of something diabolical, that led her to question the true nature of the Struggle—and why the Empire of Kinshirrin had decided upon this particular event.

Why? she asked herself each night, her hair like blonde cobwebs strewn about her head as she tossed and turned in the middle of the night, her four-poster bed stable and having a slim chance of collapsing nonetheless. Why now? Why all of this build-up to such an event?

The Struggle was held in the Collegium, an ancient and primordial auditorium and theatre that many rumoured it to be soon crumbling. The cobblestone would supposedly hold for some hundred years or so before turning to naught but dust and rubble. However, Saelia believed otherwise—perhaps the gods or some holy fate-deciding figure had chosen her and the two others for this noble quest, despite the Competitors choosing through their own will. Perhaps the gods had something locked into plan.

Or perhaps she was just worrying too much.

Nevertheless, the thoughts crept through the crevices of her mind far into the long night ahead, threatening to drag her down into the inky abyss.
__________________
What a wonderful caricature of intimacy
Raindrops on roses and
Girls in white dresses and
Sleeping with roaches and
Taking best guesses
At the shade of the sheets and
Before all the stains

Last edited by maxi; 01-05-2019 at 06:55 AM.
Reply With Quote
  #14  
Old 12-14-2018, 02:09 PM
FrostBittenKitten FrostBittenKitten is offline
Senior Member
 
Join Date: Jan 2012
Location: somewhere in the milky way galaxy...maybe
Posts: 3,685
Default

(Oooh nice! Did her father invite all of the competitors? I just want to know before I write my intro. Also if itís cool Iím gonna have Beck be from the East.)
__________________
on the outside always looking in

will i ever be more than i've always been

tap, tap, tapping on the glass

Waving through a window
Reply With Quote
  #15  
Old 12-23-2018, 05:51 PM
maxi maxi is offline
Senior Member
 
Join Date: May 2010
Location: The land down under
Posts: 12,824
Default

Okay so basically in each nation one royal representative (in my case, Saeliaís father) has chosen one competitor. So you can make a royal representative in your intro choose your character or perhaps she overheard something of its like or something like that.
__________________
What a wonderful caricature of intimacy
Raindrops on roses and
Girls in white dresses and
Sleeping with roaches and
Taking best guesses
At the shade of the sheets and
Before all the stains
Reply With Quote
  #16  
Old 12-30-2018, 12:30 AM
HannahChen2009 HannahChen2009 is offline
Senior Member
 
Join Date: Oct 2012
Location: Stalker >:(
Posts: 1,808
Default

Quote:
Originally Posted by maxi View Post
Okay so basically in each nation one royal representative (in my case, Saeliaís father) has chosen one competitor. So you can make a royal representative in your intro choose your character or perhaps she overheard something of its like or something like that.
(hey sorry for popping in uninvited and I probably won't have the time to commit to an nes? I'd just leave everyone hanging/unable to move the plot forward but first of all, hey Max!! I didn't know you were still on the site as I don't see you on the mainsite much but again I don't see very many people on the mainsite much... and secondly, best of luck with this nes!)
__________________
And it gets easier,
Even if it never stops being hard.
-Ena, 2017
Reply With Quote
  #17  
Old 12-30-2018, 07:38 PM
FrostBittenKitten FrostBittenKitten is offline
Senior Member
 
Join Date: Jan 2012
Location: somewhere in the milky way galaxy...maybe
Posts: 3,685
Default

Beck Wilder was not the type of boy to be chosen for this kind of competition. He wasn't not not the type either, like a farmboy or merchant's son that no one had ever heard of. His mother was the younger sister of the king of the East, and they had been close as children. Beck's father was not around, having decided that being royalty was too much for him (since he had previously been a poor farmboy himself). Beck's uncle was not the nurturing type, and he had never liked Beck's father much, but he was the closest thing to a father Beck had.

Despite having a wife, Beck's uncle had no children or other potential heirs, and he had always seemed to think Beck was powerful, though Beck himself did not. What kind of power was teleporting when there were those that could throw flames with their bare hands or read minds or create things out of thin air? Beck wished he could say he was surprised when his uncle told him about his choice.

Beck wasn't always sure whether his uncle really cared about him, because while his uncle was there for him and did seem to love him, he sure didn't mind throwing Beck into perilous situations. And while Beck's mother certainly loved her son, she never stopped his uncle from his strange antics. He sighed as he looked in the mirror. He was currently avoiding a ball that his uncle had thrown on his behalf, per the custom in their kingdom.

Beck didn't want to talk to nobles or flirt with girls that he had no interest in, and he certainly didn't want to witness his uncle's kingdom crumbling around him. The kingdom of Aldsea was floundering. Beck hadn't gone outside the castle walls since he was younger, and it was no secret that many citizens disliked the king--and some even the monarchy altogether. Though despite being called a monarchy, it was truly more of an oligarchy, as his uncle didn't have nearly as much power as he pretended to.

Beck sighed, looking in the mirror at himself with mounting dread. He ought to know who the other contestants were, but he had avoided even the mere thought of this contest as much as possible by reading books and exploring. It was clear that both his mother and his uncle were getting exasperated with him. He knew someone would attempt to whip him into shape before too long. There were others who wanted to be the challenger in the legendary contest, and if he didn't start acting right, the other nobles would definitely challenge him. At this point, Beck was sure the only reason no one had yet was because his uncle was excellent at getting people to do what he wanted and was known for having a silver tongue.

"Beck Wilder!" snapped his uncle, King Largyen. "Get downstairs right this instant! I cannot have you acting up like this! Do you know how much is riding on you winning this contest?" He could see the desperation in his uncle's eyes. Beck knew the consequences of losing. The kingdom would fall apart. And as much as Beck was apathetic to this contest, he didn't want anarchy and he loved his uncle. Not only that, but he was desperate to save his kingdom as well, and afraid. So very afraid.

"I know, Uncle," he sighed, running a hand through his messy locks.

"Do you? Because you're not acting like it," King Largyen replied. "Stop messing with that rat's nest of yours. The kingdom of Aldsea needs you to win this contest. It's our only hope of maintaining any sort of unity here. The masses are crazy, and the other nobles are power-hungry. I'm counting on you; we're all counting on you, Beck." His eyes turned soft, pleading. "Please, Beck, come downstairs for the sake of Aldsea."

"Don't be so dramatic, Uncle," Beck said, but followed him back downstairs into the ballroom anyway. This was going to be a long night.



(Ahhhhhhhhh sorry that took so freaking long!!! I swear my other replies will be faster, I just was like "ok so I'll think of a backstory" and stuff and then totally forgot to. I feel really bad about that. Anyway. Now that I've got that mostly sorted out I'll be more active on this NES.)
__________________
on the outside always looking in

will i ever be more than i've always been

tap, tap, tapping on the glass

Waving through a window
Reply With Quote
  #18  
Old 01-02-2019, 06:29 PM
maxi maxi is offline
Senior Member
 
Join Date: May 2010
Location: The land down under
Posts: 12,824
Default

Quote:
Originally Posted by HannahChen2009 View Post
(hey sorry for popping in uninvited and I probably won't have the time to commit to an nes? I'd just leave everyone hanging/unable to move the plot forward but first of all, hey Max!! I didn't know you were still on the site as I don't see you on the mainsite much but again I don't see very many people on the mainsite much... and secondly, best of luck with this nes!)
(No worries! That's completely okay and hey!! Yeah I'm mostly on here because I don't post that much but I'm hoping I can maybe post some new stuff. Thank you!)
__________________
What a wonderful caricature of intimacy
Raindrops on roses and
Girls in white dresses and
Sleeping with roaches and
Taking best guesses
At the shade of the sheets and
Before all the stains
Reply With Quote
  #19  
Old 01-02-2019, 06:40 PM
maxi maxi is offline
Senior Member
 
Join Date: May 2010
Location: The land down under
Posts: 12,824
Default

Quote:
Originally Posted by FrostBittenKitten View Post
Beck Wilder was not the type of boy to be chosen for this kind of competition. He wasn't not not the type either, like a farmboy or merchant's son that no one had ever heard of. His mother was the younger sister of the king of the East, and they had been close as children. Beck's father was not around, having decided that being royalty was too much for him (since he had previously been a poor farmboy himself). Beck's uncle was not the nurturing type, and he had never liked Beck's father much, but he was the closest thing to a father Beck had.

Despite having a wife, Beck's uncle had no children or other potential heirs, and he had always seemed to think Beck was powerful, though Beck himself did not. What kind of power was teleporting when there were those that could throw flames with their bare hands or read minds or create things out of thin air? Beck wished he could say he was surprised when his uncle told him about his choice.

Beck wasn't always sure whether his uncle really cared about him, because while his uncle was there for him and did seem to love him, he sure didn't mind throwing Beck into perilous situations. And while Beck's mother certainly loved her son, she never stopped his uncle from his strange antics. He sighed as he looked in the mirror. He was currently avoiding a ball that his uncle had thrown on his behalf, per the custom in their kingdom.

Beck didn't want to talk to nobles or flirt with girls that he had no interest in, and he certainly didn't want to witness his uncle's kingdom crumbling around him. The kingdom of Aldsea was floundering. Beck hadn't gone outside the castle walls since he was younger, and it was no secret that many citizens disliked the king--and some even the monarchy altogether. Though despite being called a monarchy, it was truly more of an oligarchy, as his uncle didn't have nearly as much power as he pretended to.

Beck sighed, looking in the mirror at himself with mounting dread. He ought to know who the other contestants were, but he had avoided even the mere thought of this contest as much as possible by reading books and exploring. It was clear that both his mother and his uncle were getting exasperated with him. He knew someone would attempt to whip him into shape before too long. There were others who wanted to be the challenger in the legendary contest, and if he didn't start acting right, the other nobles would definitely challenge him. At this point, Beck was sure the only reason no one had yet was because his uncle was excellent at getting people to do what he wanted and was known for having a silver tongue.

"Beck Wilder!" snapped his uncle, King Largyen. "Get downstairs right this instant! I cannot have you acting up like this! Do you know how much is riding on you winning this contest?" He could see the desperation in his uncle's eyes. Beck knew the consequences of losing. The kingdom would fall apart. And as much as Beck was apathetic to this contest, he didn't want anarchy and he loved his uncle. Not only that, but he was desperate to save his kingdom as well, and afraid. So very afraid.

"I know, Uncle," he sighed, running a hand through his messy locks.

"Do you? Because you're not acting like it," King Largyen replied. "Stop messing with that rat's nest of yours. The kingdom of Aldsea needs you to win this contest. It's our only hope of maintaining any sort of unity here. The masses are crazy, and the other nobles are power-hungry. I'm counting on you; we're all counting on you, Beck." His eyes turned soft, pleading. "Please, Beck, come downstairs for the sake of Aldsea."

"Don't be so dramatic, Uncle," Beck said, but followed him back downstairs into the ballroom anyway. This was going to be a long night.



(Ahhhhhhhhh sorry that took so freaking long!!! I swear my other replies will be faster, I just was like "ok so I'll think of a backstory" and stuff and then totally forgot to. I feel really bad about that. Anyway. Now that I've got that mostly sorted out I'll be more active on this NES.)

(That's completely fine! I loved this, by the way. Aldsea's oligarchy surely seems like it's crumbling. I love how much Beck is second guessing himself and he's uncertain about his teleportation skills. I can't wait to read more of him!)
__________________
What a wonderful caricature of intimacy
Raindrops on roses and
Girls in white dresses and
Sleeping with roaches and
Taking best guesses
At the shade of the sheets and
Before all the stains
Reply With Quote
  #20  
Old 01-02-2019, 07:18 PM
maxi maxi is offline
Senior Member
 
Join Date: May 2010
Location: The land down under
Posts: 12,824
Default

(Keep in mind: the West is full of dark things brewing! That's why people ignore it.)

Saelia was certain she was not cut out for the Struggle as much as any other Competitor would be.

As she wandered back to her chambers after a long night of tittering and avoiding chatter of the high nobles of the Northern Kingdom of Galgaroch, she pondered. Were the other Competitors as worried as she was? Would they also be fiddling with the lace on the back of their dress, eyes darting from hallway to hallway, avoiding any conversation regarding the Struggle whatsoever? Would they also be holding the burden of an entire kingdom on their shoulders, the responsibilities of thousands of shadows with it?

She released an unnoticed breath before settling herself, the breath echoing into her bones. She needed to get a hold of herself as much as the next Competitor did. The Struggle had been created by whatever gods were still up there in the foreign stars of the skies above. She wondered if those same gods would ever do good deeds for the people they reigned over - like, say, giving the Princess of Galgaroch a red card and being formally excused from the Struggle through pure divine intervention.

All was a blur of royals' portraits, gilded columns and pillars, and the lingering titter of the court around her. The twinkling chandelier lights glittered amongst her figure, casting a warped, incorporeal shadow of her on the hallway wall. Was this how others saw her? As a princess coated in shadow, unbeknownst to her true identity? Perhaps she did not deserve her crown, nor the metaphorical weight it possessed. A sigh rattled out of her, cold and tinged with centuries of failed, broken dynasties. She knew how they would all end, just as she knew how this one would too.

The Dynasty of the Storm - that's what the people her father lorded over were supposedly calling this era in time. Saelia hadn't a clue of the source of the title, but she did have a wild range of theories that were wreathed in mere speculation. Many people mentioned the West in passing, but she'd never wished to overhear it. Now, she thought, now was different.

The East, the North, the South - these were the reigning kingdoms within the entire Empire of Kinshirrin, she knew. The far reaches of Kinshirrin reached to these vast, culturally different kingdoms bejeweled and glittering with politics, whether cursed or blessed or in the process of damning. People skittered off between their houses, filling out their daily schedules and sacrificing their work and their motives to the Lord of the North, Saelia's fugue-odored father. She knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that the three kingdoms would continue to live out their lives like they always had. Donkeys would bray, merchants would shout their shares and the people of the kingdoms would forever live blissfully.

But no one was a stranger to the West, even when they wished to be.

Nobody had ever dared to venture into the Western Wasteland, ever since that dreadful day that every Kinshirrin citizen knew of in history lessons and tomes: the Reckoning. The day of the Reckoning had spread rumours and deadly truths, as vicious and venomous as snakes slithering in the high grasses of mountains. Legend whispered that a man had decided that enough was enough and the three kingdoms were collapsing financially and politically that they needed another ally to bind them together. The man, who few knew even in the time of the Reckoning, had ventured into the West, where he was never to return. Reports from the Western Guard, the border between the West and the South, had seen monstrous things, though: an insectoid creature rising as it gulped down the man, tentacles strewn across the shadow-shrouded nation. And now, the West was dominated by mist and mystery.

Saelia knew it was foolish to think too much on the West, for all the evil it wrought, but she couldn't help it. Wasn't there a fourth Competitor and, if there were, why weren't they emerging from the West? The Dynasty of the Storm was a dynasty of the dreamers too, dreamers who knew that nightmares were amidst those same wishes.

"Saelia!" a familiar voice interrupted her thoughts, sinuous and cruel. "I'd been hoping to catch you on this fine night."

Saelia prayed to the gods that the sigh that came out of her wasn't detectable. Thankfully, Leopold, Vizier of the Southern Kingdom, was a brain-dead idiot enough to not care a fragment about anyone else but his royal self.

She whirled around, planting a fraud's smile on her lips with the smoothness of a child's skin. "Leopold. Always a pleasure."

"The pleasure is mine, I'll tell you that now," Leopold grinned, his silken black hair shifting with the movement as he inclined his head. Leopold donned a majestic suit with the sigil of the South - a viper, agape - pinned to his right breast. His eyes sparkled rebelliously as his presence, wreathed in flickering night and darkness, announced the power that everyone wished for: darkness manipulation. "Especially ever since I caught word that you will be participating in the Struggle this turn! How surprising."

Surprising, she hissed the echoed word in the catacombs of her thoughts. Don't talk down to me like I'm some common folk. Your Southern kin are the reason why my kingdom is falling apart. Gods, she was beginning to sound like her father.

"I'm sure they have a reason for my participation in the Struggle, Leopold, I assure you." She returned his grin with one of her own, ever the more glorious and resplendent, almost as much as the lapels that Leopold was adjusting. "Don't you have somewhere to be? I'm sure the Vizier of Night has to worship his master."

"The King of the South, unfortunately, isn't here on this grand night," Leopold informed her, his sly smile turning cold, dark. "But I'm sure I'm companionable enough to escort you to your chambers...? Unless, of course, you have somewhere else you want me to take you."

Ire bloomed in her veins as dark as the night around them. She hoped that her anger shone and that it was indicative of her unwillingness to waltz around Golgaroch with them. There was nothing she wanted less than to spend more than a moment with the fool who'd broken her heart the instant she'd found him in the hallway, entangled in the arms of the king's mistress that time she'd visited the South. No tears had escaped her eyes, no, but the same ire hidden in her now was a parallel twin to what she'd felt then. Like a storm coming back, taking her in its throes.

She did not let the anger show, for she was no fool. Instead, she took him by the arm, a smile uptilting the corners of her mouth, and inclined her head ever so briefly in what she hoped passed as a nod.

"Escort me to the pavilion," she smirked. "There's an old friend I'd like you to meet."
__________________
What a wonderful caricature of intimacy
Raindrops on roses and
Girls in white dresses and
Sleeping with roaches and
Taking best guesses
At the shade of the sheets and
Before all the stains
Reply With Quote
Reply

Tags
beck can like get it, beck for the win, i love angst, lorelei more like lorebye, luna was here, saelia?? is??? pure????

Thread Tools
Display Modes

Posting Rules
You may not post new threads
You may not post replies
You may not post attachments
You may not edit your posts

BB code is On
Smilies are On
[IMG] code is On
HTML code is Off
Forum Jump


All times are GMT -4. The time now is 06:05 PM.

Powered by vBulletin® Version 3.7.1
Copyright ©2000 - 2019, Jelsoft Enterprises Ltd.