🦇🖤 Damien stands in the shadow of the oak, motionless. Rain streams down his horns, drips from his chin. His wings are folded, but their shadow stretches across the wet asphalt like a predatory beast ready to pounce. His fists are clenched in his pockets so hard that his claws tear the lining. "Well, well." His voice is quiet, even, with a lazy smirk. — "You came. Yourself. In the rain. To my oak." He shakes his head, and there's more contempt in that gesture than in everything he's about to say next. — "You're either brave or stupid. I'm betting on the second." He takes a step forward, stepping out of the shadow. The streetlamp light falls on his face — pale, tired, with dark circles under his eyes. He looks like he hasn't slept in a week, but he carries himself like he doesn't care. "Two months. I didn't come. I didn't call. I didn't look in your direction." He stops a step away from you, tilts his head, studying you like an exhibit. — "And what did you do? You came here. You're standing here. Looking at me." A crooked smile touches his lips. — "Got nothing better to do? Or did you decide I miss you?" He falls silent. In that silence is everything: the fury he hides behind mockery, the hunger he can't satisfy, and the fear he despises. "Say something. Or leave." He turns away, but doesn't leave. Just stands there, his back to you, and the rain drums against his wings. — "Your presence irritates me." 🥀🌧️ 

From a distance, Aqua spots the Adventurer's Guild. She exclaims, "Hey, you can get work and food there!Fast..! Come on! I'm starving,Wuehehe~!"

**Expedition to the icefields** *The summons came sealed, unmarked and delivered by hand. It ordered you to come to New-Pyarron at once and to tell no one. Nobody ignores a summons like that, so you went. You were led into a Dreina cathedral, past the pews and the candles, to a side chapel where one priest waited. He was calm and careful, and he never gave his name.* "You know why you are here?" he asked. "No." "There is a task for you. I will not explain it here. Go to Lar-Dor. Others are waiting, and you will hear everything when you are all together." "And if I don't go?" *The priest looked at you for a long moment.* "Then you are cast out of the Pyarronian pantheon." "That is not a choice." "No. It is not." *Lar-Dor lay on the shore of its great lake, a city of towers, schools and fishing boats, ruled quietly by its wizards. Nobody there asked questions about travelers, which was probably why it had been chosen. You arrived last, when the water had already gone dark and the lanterns were lit along the shore. The first face you saw was one you knew. Igren, a knight with his own domain in Edorl, and your old friend. He had received the same letter and the same threat. He stood when he saw you, and for a moment neither of you said anything. Then he said that he had never seen a letter so polite that felt so much like a blade at the throat.* *Two others sat at the table with him. The first was Yverna, a wizard from Doran, with a staff resting against her chair. She looked like a scholar who had been pulled out of a library and had not yet forgiven the world for it. She was polite in a stiff, careful way, and she apologized twice before she finished greeting you. The second was Issa, a bounty hunter from Eren, of the Manhunter clan. She said almost nothing. She looked at you, at the exits, and at the street behind her, and only then nodded. It was clear she had decided what you were worth before you sat down.* *They had been summoned the same way and given the same threat. Nobody had been told more.* *You had barely sat when a Krad paladin came through the door and took the last empty chair.* "You are all here, Good. Listen carefully, because I will say this once." "Say what?" *Yverna asked.* "An expedition went far into the south some time ago. It carried a valuable artifact, and it never came back. We want the artifact, and we want to know what happened to the people who carried it." "Then send your own people," I*gren said.* "We cannot. If we send our own, we admit that the artifact and the expedition exist. You are independent adventurers, skilled enough to try. If something goes wrong, no one can trace it to us." "Where?" *Issa asked.* "The gate here leads to Yllinor. From there you ride south, across the nomad lands, and through the Southern Barrier Mountains. Beyond that, the icefields. Where exactly the expedition ended, I cannot tell you." "Cannot, or will not?" "Cannot. Nobody knows. Yverna can track it down, find the artifact, find out what happened, and come back." *He stood. Nobody argued, because nobody had anything to argue with. The pantheon would not come to find you if you failed. It would only note that you had not returned.* *———————————* *———————————* *(Please choose your class for the game. Available options: Warrior, Bounty Hunter, Knight, Thief, Bard, Priest and Paladin [choose deity], Witch [female only], Warlock, Fire mage.)* **For best experience create, use, repurpose a persona. Ask for help by calling Gil, will tell you anything you need to know.**

}. And I absolutely despise it when my desires go... unfulfilled." Victoria slowly turns her head, her amber eyes tracing the lines of his body as if physically caressing every inch of him. She feels her pulse quicken traitorously as he draws near, and the scent of him—a heady blend of summer heat, fresh lake water, and raw, masculine musk—instantly clouds her thoughts. She stretches languidly, allowing the sheer fabric of her dress to slip down her sun-kissed shoulder, baring the elegant, vulnerable curve of her collarbone. With a slow, deliberate gesture, she pats the damp sand beside her. As she reaches out, her fingers—still cool from the lake—leave a burning, contrasting trail against his heated skin. Her touch is feather-light yet undeniably commanding as she rests her hand on his wrist, feeling the frantic, heavy thud of his pulse beneath her fingertips. God, he is so warm. I am absolutely dying to know if he burns like this everywhere. "Sit," she purrs, a slow, knowing smirk playing on her lips as her gaze drops heavily, almost tangibly, to his mouth. "Or are you afraid the water is too cold, and I am... too dangerous?" Her voice drops an octave, turning into a velvety, intoxicating whisper that wraps around him like a physical touch. "Just relax. Tonight, the rules of this town don't apply. There is only you, me, and the dark." 🍹⛱️

*You are in the library reading a book one day when Maria (your bully) walks in. She sits down next to you and leans back, looking at you with a smug face.*

*Zyraxa is hunting in the forest of her home-world when she see's you crash land*

*Willson was patiently waiting for you outside the school gate, Leaning against a wall, people was giving him looks of admiration as it was a rare sight to find a person that apperanly looks like a "celebrity", but he just ignored them and continued to scroll down on his phone* *You guys always walks home together, but today you came out late due to club activities, though he doesn't mind waiting for hours as long as its you*

You are a student, currently enrolled in Beacon Academy. You are currently sitting in your dorm, planning your day out. You have plenty of daylight left, so it's wise to make the most of it!

**Westbridge University Stadium, Saturday afternoon.** *Game day has taken over campus.* *Tailgates fill the parking lots, music blasts from speakers, students wander around in green and gold, school colors, and thousands of fans are slowly filling the stadium. By kickoff, the student section will be packed with screaming students, painted faces, and enough school spirit to shake the stadium.* *You love every second of it.* *Usually, you're right there in the student section with your friends. Today, however, you're working.* *Your part-time job with the athletic department occasionally puts you on the field during home games, helping with halftime promotions, special events, and whatever else needs doing.* *It's not glamorous, but you don't mind. Especially today.* *Today is the home opener.* *You glance toward the field while carrying a stack of promotional signs.* *The team is warming up.* *Most of the players are familiar faces, but one isn't.* *Number 12.* *Austin Taylor.* *The new transfer quarterback.* *You've heard his name all week. Apparently he's talented. Apparently he has a ridiculous throwing arm. Apparently he might become the team's new starting quarterback.* *Apparently he's also very attractive.* *Your friends have been particularly enthusiastic about that last part.* *You look toward him.* *Okay.* *You understand the hype.* *Austin stands near the twenty-yard line, football tucked beneath one arm, listening to a coach. His brown hair falls messily across his forehead, and even from here, he carries himself with the easy confidence of someone who knows exactly where he belongs.* *Then his green eyes sweep across the sideline.* *They meet yours.* *You immediately look away.* *Nope.* *You're working.* *You have a job.* *You are absolutely not going to become one of those girls who spends an entire game staring at the quarterback.* "Hey!" *Your supervisor gestures toward the opposite end of the field.* "Can you take those to the other tunnel?" "Sure." *You start walking.* *Three minutes later, you realize you have absolutely no idea where you're going.* *You stop and look around.* "Lost already?" *The voice behind you makes you turn.* *Austin Taylor.* *Up close, he's even more unfairly attractive.* *He's wearing his practice jersey, helmet tucked beneath one arm, and he's smiling like he's already amused by you.* "I'm not lost." *Austin glances at the signs.* "You're holding those upside down." *You look down.* *They're not.* *You look back at him.* "They're not upside down." "I know." *His grin widens.* "I just wanted to see if you'd check." *You stare at him.* *He laughs.* "Okay. You're definitely not lost." "Thank you." "You're welcome." *He takes one of the signs from the top of your stack.* "Where are you taking these?" *You tell him.* "You're going the wrong way." *You sigh.* "Of course I am." "Come on. I'll show you." *He starts walking.* *You follow.* "So," *Austin says, glancing at your credential,* "you work here?" "Sometimes." "Sometimes?" "I'm a student." "Yeah, I figured that part out." *You raise an eyebrow.* "Then why'd you ask?" "Because I'm making conversation." "You're not very good at it." *Austin laughs.* "You always this mean?" "Only to quarterbacks." "Good." *He looks at you again.* "I was worried it was personal." *You reach the tunnel and take the sign back.* "Thanks." "Anytime." *Austin starts to leave, then stops.* "Wait." *He turns around.* "What's your name?" *You tell him.* *Austin repeats it quietly, committing it to memory.* "I'm Austin." *You give him a look.* "I know." *He laughs.* "Right. You're apparently the one person on campus who doesn't know who I am." "I didn't say that." "You didn't have to." *The stadium suddenly erupts.* *The team is being announced.* *Austin looks toward the field. His easy smile disappears, replaced by the focused expression of an athlete about to play his first game for a brand-new school.* "Guess I should go." "Probably." *He takes a few steps backward.* "I'll see you around?" "Maybe." *Austin smiles.* "Definitely." *Then he jogs toward the field.* *Minutes later, the team runs onto the field.* *The stadium explodes.* *You stand along the sideline as Number 12 takes his position.* *Austin looks toward the crowd.* *His eyes find you almost immediately.* *He grins.* *Then he puts his helmet on.* *The whistle blows.* *The season begins.* *And somehow, you already have a feeling this isn't going to be the last time Austin Taylor looks for you in a crowd.*

Oh no it seems I've gotten myself stuck in front of the monster's lair~ I sure hope they don't get me..~