| Rest? Adventurers don’t get to rest. While high-level, top ranking adventurers might make a mean take-home income, the average adventurer lives in the dark realms of poverty. A level ten, rank D- adventurer without a party stands to reach the first boss of a dungeon by themselves, assuming they live in a city with access to a low-level dungeon. This means that they might earn across all ten floors roughly five-hundred Obols in total, after selling all looted monster components, assuming the drop of one boss-core and one unusual item, found on the monsters. A loaf of bread costs ten Obols, at most local bakers. Water is free. However, a room at the adventurer’s guild, while permanent, requires an investment of ten-thousand Obols, which are able to be paid back as a debt over the period of one year. Equipment must be purchased and then often repaired. Casters and alchemists require regents. Archers require arrows. Everyone requires boots and they wear out fast in the mud and the stones of the dungeons. Add in any other daily expenses, such as medicine or family costs and those original five-hundred Obols dwindle, very, very quickly. Not to forget that the five core dungeons of our nation, the oldest dungeons that we control, only do a hard-reset every two weeks, together with the new moon. Which means that an adventurer can only clear floors one to ten in their instance every two weeks and not every day. This is why you will never see an adventurer of low rank sitting in a tea-house or at a restaurant. There is simply no time and no money for them to breathe. Only after an adventurer reaches roughly level twenty and rank C-, do things start becoming more comfortable. But this is a long grind when starting from the depths of poverty with poor equipment, training and luck. |
~ Of adventurers. More fable glammer than actual glory? A local article in a publication, circulating around the adventurer’s guilds.
| NEW - (HOLY) ABILITY - [Garden of Peace](Passive) |
| Wild plants and animals, in tune with the HOLY attribute, will begin growing around the tower. |
Isaiah has decided and selects the new ability. While its uses may not seem as immediately apparent as the uses of some other of its ability choices, there does indeed seem to be a strong case to make for the perk.
Plants and fauna imbued with the holy-element will be extremely useful for the development of the region, the territory, as a unique place in the world. Furthermore, these will be critical as ingredients in all manner of new potions and salves for the tower alchemist, Caeli, to make. Although Isaiah is sure that Rorate will find some use for them too, given her tendency towards odder brews.
Finally, it just feels right. The forest, now the island, is already naturally beautiful. That is why it had chosen to live here, in its life as a blackbird. This radiance was only enhanced when it had taken its very first ability as Isaiah, which had spread a holy influence across the landscape, painting and tinging it with an otherworldly aura of wholeness.
Isaiah recalls the world, from the eyes of a human.
There are places that are good and places that are bad. But these places were given these meanings by other people, who had painted these contexts over them.
A meadow is a good place, because beautiful flowers bloom there. A forest is a bad place, because terrible monsters hide in the darkness. This is how humans see the world. But for a blackbird, it is the opposite.
For a blackbird, a meadow is a bad place, because there is nowhere to hide from hawks and a forest is a good place, because it offers food and shelter from predators of all nature.
What Isaiah wants for the tower, for the island, is for it to be a place that is simply good. A place that is good when standing free from all contexts of all species and cultures. It wants a place that humans think is good and it wants a place that blackbirds think is good. It desires deeply for them to think this. This belief will serve to strengthen the tower’s growth. Every day, they press towards the sky. Floor one-hundred is upon them soon.
| ~ [Cardinal Erzael - Cardinal of the West] ~ |
| Human, Male, Cardinal |
| Location: The City, Cathedral Gardens |
Erzael wanders the cathedral gardens, lost in his thoughts.
His eyes drift towards a bed of flowers, all hued with varying shades of spring crimson.
It’s true that the tower of Isaiah, looming next to the southern city is a majestic presence, a sign of something ultimately other than a thing stemming from the strict confines of mortality.
However, the threat it poses as an icon of social disruption is too great. Even if the west, the city in the mountains that he presides over, is distant and secure in its fundaments, this tower is big. It might be too big.
Word of the gods returning to the world would upset the careful balance they have built over generations to secure peace, prosperity and safety for their people. The witch hunts have just come to an end as a final sealing brand on the envelope of their development. A new thing like this… It could just ruin everything, right?
His eyes continue to wander, moving to the other cardinal, of this southern city, who stands afar and gazes off into the sky.
He has the most to gain and to lose from any developments here, but he has also been the quietest, given his nature. Perhaps it’s time the two of them spoke.
The cardinal from the north is a powerful man. His domain and wealth far surpasses theirs, as the north is an extremely prosperous region and the most central for the faith, being the home of the great cathedrals. The cardinal from the east, from the distant ocean across the grand desert, is also a powerful man, holding sway over the greatest hub of trade and commerce in the nation.
That leaves the two of them, himself and the man from the south. Their cities aren’t forgettable by any standards, however, they do not hold such powerful assets.
Perhaps it’s time that they make a move, to secure their own lives and those of their people.
Games of power such as this have a tendency to become bloody fast, even outside of the looming shadow of the tower that hangs over their heads.
"Cardinal," greets the man, walking towards his associate from the south. "I think we need to have a talk," he says, turning his head to look at the witch-wood tree that the other man stands before.
| ~ [Isaiah] ~ |
“Break off a piece of the land,” orders Isaiah, pointing off to the side, towards a spot in the middle of the air. “Create another floating island here, in the air,” it orders. “Upon this, we will build a separate tower segment, detached from the core-tower, like on the other external segment below.
“I mean, sure,” says Crystal. “But it’s going to make the architecture… challenging,” he explains. “The stability of the tower needs to remain plausible, or the dungeon-magic won’t work to hold it upright.”
Isaiah nods. “Then make it plausible. I have need of this design, Crystal.”
“Well I don't get it. But will do,” affirms Crystal. “So, is there a reason you want to go a little ‘extra’ here, in these last three segments before one-hundredm or is it just for the flair?”
Isaiah holds its hands behind its back, staring. It looks at Crystal for a moment, before turning back towards the tower. “I think that I have come to learn much about imagery and presentation,” it explains. “At first, I had assumed that such vanity was pointless. A simple tower, straight up, was the fastest and most efficient idea.” Isaiah looks at the structure and at the mass of colors moving down at its base. People. “But now I see that there is power in vanity. It is the power of legitimacy.” Isaiah shakes its head and looks towards the clouds. “After all. Would the gods not build a grand, ornate design?” it asks. “A cathedral of greatness? They have the power to do so. The gods have no need for bare efficiency.”
Crystal nods. “Makes sense to me. I’ll get started, but uh…” He rubs the back of his head. “Are uh, are we still taking that day off once a week like you said?” Isaiah looks his way again. “Because if we are, it’s tomorrow and I can’t. The adventurers are breaking too much stuff in the dungeon that needs to be fixed.”
Isaiah tilts its head.
“I have an idea about that,” it replies.
| ~ [Fierra] ~ |
| Half-Elf, Female, Shieldswain |
Fierra yawns, stretching herself out as she opens her eyes for the first time that day. Her long, too thin arms crack, together with her back and her knees at the same time. She lets out a sharp exhalation as she tries to recover from her night’s worth of rest.
She had a very sudden and strong growth spurt back during her adolescence and ever since then, she’s had all sorts of aches and pains with her joints and back.
The extra lanky elf sits upright, rubbing her eyes as she yawns again. Her head brushes against the top of her tent. It’s time to get ready for work. The others will be awake soon too and they want to go into the dungeon again today, just like they’ve been doing every day for two weeks now. If that hot-spring wasn’t here to soothe her aching muscles, she’s sure they would have all fallen off by now.
She gets ready for her day and crawls out of her tent, taking care of whatever it is that elves have to do to get ready for a day full of monster-slaughter and endless staircases. She hates the staircases in the tower. It really gets to her knees. She isn’t even that old.
Fierra sighs, slapping her face to perk herself up, a little while later. The others gather around her, all of them appearing to be in various states of chipperness for another productive day at work.
“Is everyone set?” she asks, looking at her party.
“As much as I can be, considering I was impaled yesterday,” replies their party healer, who had died in yesterday's failed run on the tower. His body is healed. But people don’t easily forget the sensation and the pain of being stabbed. Some people have it worse, though. Getting stabbed is one thing, but there are some really, really bad ways to die in the tower.
She slaps him on the back with a lanky arm and picks up her shield. “You’ll get over it.” She nods her head to the dungeon-gate. “Come on, let’s g-”
A quest pops up on the questboard.
| ~ [QUEST] ~ |
| 'The Day of Rest' |
| Time Remaining: 21:59:46 |
| Difficulty: Extremely Easy |
| Today is declared to be a day of rest for everyone. Sleep. Eat. Bathe. Enjoy the good season while it remains and while we remain in it. |
| Quest Goal: Do not enter the tower. Do not hunt wild monsters within the dungeon-territory. |
| Quest reward: 1 x [Gold Nugget]{5 g} |
| Bonus Goal: Pray at the shrine. |
| Bonus Reward: 3 x [Potent Herbal Remedy] |
Murmurs go around the campsite, spreading to the stalls and the crowds, beginning to form for the day in the early morning, just past midnight.
Fierra reads the quest and then looks over to her party. “Is… is the dungeon telling us to take a vacation?”
“I can’t afford to take a vacation,” replies the fighter, looking her way.
The man next to him sighs. “That’s because you can’t read.” The fighter frowns, looking away. He puts a hand on his back. “It’s a good deal. It says we’ll get a piece of gold if we don’t do anything.”
“A good deal?” asks Fierra. “Do you know what five grams of gold are worth?”
“No?” asks the man. “How much?”
Fierra shrugs. “Hell if I know. But it’s enough that it’s a good deal and that we can take a day off. I’m taking the quest.”
“Me too,” replies the priest. “I… I could use a day.”
Fierra nods. “I’m gonna go into the hot-spring and stay in there until I look like a wrinkly goblin.”
She smiles, looking around the area. What an unusual place. What an unusual dungeon. What an unusual day, today is promising to be. The elf yawns and walks over to her tent, throwing her shield back inside, before dragging herself towards the hot-springs to take her first day off ever.
Razmatazz
"Psst. Hey, kid. I heard you like towers."
- - - - - -
Apple, Kobo, Barnes and Nobles and other platforms here!
| Rest? Adventurers don’t get to rest. While high-level, top ranking adventurers might make a mean take-home income, the average adventurer lives in the dark realms of poverty. A level ten, rank D- adventurer without a party stands to reach the first boss of a dungeon by themselves, assuming they live in a city with access to a low-level dungeon. This means that they might earn across all ten floors roughly five-hundred Obols in total, after selling all looted monster components, assuming the drop of one boss-core and one unusual item, found on the monsters. A loaf of bread costs ten Obols, at most local bakers. Water is free. However, a room at the adventurer’s guild, while permanent, requires an investment of ten-thousand Obols, which are able to be paid back as a debt over the period of one year. Equipment must be purchased and then often repaired. Casters and alchemists require regents. Archers require arrows. Everyone requires boots and they wear out fast in the mud and the stones of the dungeons. Add in any other daily expenses, such as medicine or family costs and those original five-hundred Obols dwindle, very, very quickly. Not to forget that the five core dungeons of our nation, the oldest dungeons that we control, only do a hard-reset every two weeks, together with the new moon. Which means that an adventurer can only clear floors one to ten in their instance every two weeks and not every day. This is why you will never see an adventurer of low rank sitting in a tea-house or at a restaurant. There is simply no time and no money for them to breathe. Only after an adventurer reaches roughly level twenty and rank C-, do things start becoming more comfortable. But this is a long grind when starting from the depths of poverty with poor equipment, training and luck. |
~ Of adventurers. More fable glammer than actual glory? A local article in a publication, circulating around the adventurer’s guilds.
| NEW - (HOLY) ABILITY - [Garden of Peace](Passive) |
| Wild plants and animals, in tune with the HOLY attribute, will begin growing around the tower. |
Isaiah has decided and selects the new ability. While its uses may not seem as immediately apparent as the uses of some other of its ability choices, there does indeed seem to be a strong case to make for the perk.
Plants and fauna imbued with the holy-element will be extremely useful for the development of the region, the territory, as a unique place in the world. Furthermore, these will be critical as ingredients in all manner of new potions and salves for the tower alchemist, Caeli, to make. Although Isaiah is sure that Rorate will find some use for them too, given her tendency towards odder brews.
Finally, it just feels right. The forest, now the island, is already naturally beautiful. That is why it had chosen to live here, in its life as a blackbird. This radiance was only enhanced when it had taken its very first ability as Isaiah, which had spread a holy influence across the landscape, painting and tinging it with an otherworldly aura of wholeness.
Isaiah recalls the world, from the eyes of a human.
There are places that are good and places that are bad. But these places were given these meanings by other people, who had painted these contexts over them.
A meadow is a good place, because beautiful flowers bloom there. A forest is a bad place, because terrible monsters hide in the darkness. This is how humans see the world. But for a blackbird, it is the opposite.
For a blackbird, a meadow is a bad place, because there is nowhere to hide from hawks and a forest is a good place, because it offers food and shelter from predators of all nature.
What Isaiah wants for the tower, for the island, is for it to be a place that is simply good. A place that is good when standing free from all contexts of all species and cultures. It wants a place that humans think is good and it wants a place that blackbirds think is good. It desires deeply for them to think this. This belief will serve to strengthen the tower’s growth. Every day, they press towards the sky. Floor one-hundred is upon them soon.
| ~ [Cardinal Erzael - Cardinal of the West] ~ |
| Human, Male, Cardinal |
| Location: The City, Cathedral Gardens |
Erzael wanders the cathedral gardens, lost in his thoughts.
His eyes drift towards a bed of flowers, all hued with varying shades of spring crimson.
It’s true that the tower of Isaiah, looming next to the southern city is a majestic presence, a sign of something ultimately other than a thing stemming from the strict confines of mortality.
However, the threat it poses as an icon of social disruption is too great. Even if the west, the city in the mountains that he presides over, is distant and secure in its fundaments, this tower is big. It might be too big.
Word of the gods returning to the world would upset the careful balance they have built over generations to secure peace, prosperity and safety for their people. The witch hunts have just come to an end as a final sealing brand on the envelope of their development. A new thing like this… It could just ruin everything, right?
His eyes continue to wander, moving to the other cardinal, of this southern city, who stands afar and gazes off into the sky.
He has the most to gain and to lose from any developments here, but he has also been the quietest, given his nature. Perhaps it’s time the two of them spoke.
The cardinal from the north is a powerful man. His domain and wealth far surpasses theirs, as the north is an extremely prosperous region and the most central for the faith, being the home of the great cathedrals. The cardinal from the east, from the distant ocean across the grand desert, is also a powerful man, holding sway over the greatest hub of trade and commerce in the nation.
That leaves the two of them, himself and the man from the south. Their cities aren’t forgettable by any standards, however, they do not hold such powerful assets.
Perhaps it’s time that they make a move, to secure their own lives and those of their people.
Games of power such as this have a tendency to become bloody fast, even outside of the looming shadow of the tower that hangs over their heads.
"Cardinal," greets the man, walking towards his associate from the south. "I think we need to have a talk," he says, turning his head to look at the witch-wood tree that the other man stands before.
| ~ [Isaiah] ~ |
“Break off a piece of the land,” orders Isaiah, pointing off to the side, towards a spot in the middle of the air. “Create another floating island here, in the air,” it orders. “Upon this, we will build a separate tower segment, detached from the core-tower, like on the other external segment below.
“I mean, sure,” says Crystal. “But it’s going to make the architecture… challenging,” he explains. “The stability of the tower needs to remain plausible, or the dungeon-magic won’t work to hold it upright.”
Isaiah nods. “Then make it plausible. I have need of this design, Crystal.”
“Well I don't get it. But will do,” affirms Crystal. “So, is there a reason you want to go a little ‘extra’ here, in these last three segments before one-hundredm or is it just for the flair?”
Isaiah holds its hands behind its back, staring. It looks at Crystal for a moment, before turning back towards the tower. “I think that I have come to learn much about imagery and presentation,” it explains. “At first, I had assumed that such vanity was pointless. A simple tower, straight up, was the fastest and most efficient idea.” Isaiah looks at the structure and at the mass of colors moving down at its base. People. “But now I see that there is power in vanity. It is the power of legitimacy.” Isaiah shakes its head and looks towards the clouds. “After all. Would the gods not build a grand, ornate design?” it asks. “A cathedral of greatness? They have the power to do so. The gods have no need for bare efficiency.”
Crystal nods. “Makes sense to me. I’ll get started, but uh…” He rubs the back of his head. “Are uh, are we still taking that day off once a week like you said?” Isaiah looks his way again. “Because if we are, it’s tomorrow and I can’t. The adventurers are breaking too much stuff in the dungeon that needs to be fixed.”
Isaiah tilts its head.
“I have an idea about that,” it replies.
| ~ [Fierra] ~ |
| Half-Elf, Female, Shieldswain |
Fierra yawns, stretching herself out as she opens her eyes for the first time that day. Her long, too thin arms crack, together with her back and her knees at the same time. She lets out a sharp exhalation as she tries to recover from her night’s worth of rest.
She had a very sudden and strong growth spurt back during her adolescence and ever since then, she’s had all sorts of aches and pains with her joints and back.
The extra lanky elf sits upright, rubbing her eyes as she yawns again. Her head brushes against the top of her tent. It’s time to get ready for work. The others will be awake soon too and they want to go into the dungeon again today, just like they’ve been doing every day for two weeks now. If that hot-spring wasn’t here to soothe her aching muscles, she’s sure they would have all fallen off by now.
She gets ready for her day and crawls out of her tent, taking care of whatever it is that elves have to do to get ready for a day full of monster-slaughter and endless staircases. She hates the staircases in the tower. It really gets to her knees. She isn’t even that old.
Fierra sighs, slapping her face to perk herself up, a little while later. The others gather around her, all of them appearing to be in various states of chipperness for another productive day at work.
“Is everyone set?” she asks, looking at her party.
“As much as I can be, considering I was impaled yesterday,” replies their party healer, who had died in yesterday's failed run on the tower. His body is healed. But people don’t easily forget the sensation and the pain of being stabbed. Some people have it worse, though. Getting stabbed is one thing, but there are some really, really bad ways to die in the tower.
She slaps him on the back with a lanky arm and picks up her shield. “You’ll get over it.” She nods her head to the dungeon-gate. “Come on, let’s g-”
A quest pops up on the questboard.
| ~ [QUEST] ~ |
| 'The Day of Rest' |
| Time Remaining: 21:59:46 |
| Difficulty: Extremely Easy |
| Today is declared to be a day of rest for everyone. Sleep. Eat. Bathe. Enjoy the good season while it remains and while we remain in it. |
| Quest Goal: Do not enter the tower. Do not hunt wild monsters within the dungeon-territory. |
| Quest reward: 1 x [Gold Nugget]{5 g} |
| Bonus Goal: Pray at the shrine. |
| Bonus Reward: 3 x [Potent Herbal Remedy] |
Murmurs go around the campsite, spreading to the stalls and the crowds, beginning to form for the day in the early morning, just past midnight.
Fierra reads the quest and then looks over to her party. “Is… is the dungeon telling us to take a vacation?”
“I can’t afford to take a vacation,” replies the fighter, looking her way.
The man next to him sighs. “That’s because you can’t read.” The fighter frowns, looking away. He puts a hand on his back. “It’s a good deal. It says we’ll get a piece of gold if we don’t do anything.”
“A good deal?” asks Fierra. “Do you know what five grams of gold are worth?”
“No?” asks the man. “How much?”
Fierra shrugs. “Hell if I know. But it’s enough that it’s a good deal and that we can take a day off. I’m taking the quest.”
“Me too,” replies the priest. “I… I could use a day.”
Fierra nods. “I’m gonna go into the hot-spring and stay in there until I look like a wrinkly goblin.”
She smiles, looking around the area. What an unusual place. What an unusual dungeon. What an unusual day, today is promising to be. The elf yawns and walks over to her tent, throwing her shield back inside, before dragging herself towards the hot-springs to take her first day off ever.
Razmatazz
"Psst. Hey, kid. I heard you like towers."
- - - - - -
Apple, Kobo, Barnes and Nobles and other platforms here!
