this is Salem, a land filled with magic and maladies. It is a place where witches and their elemental familiars gather, a home to legend and
lore that predates time itself. Yet of all the wicked and wonderful stories the past can tell us of, the most magical are the ones yet to happen.
This is Salem - this is the start of your very own journey. Welcome to starfall
Starfall is an animaga witch roleplay set in mostly modern times. Members play as witches in a world plagued by monsters, where the only safe spots are walled cities. Starfall strives to be a character-driven roleplay with expansive lore and a highly interactive plotline. We want to allow members to
create and look back on a magical journey, and mold the site and its plot as their characters grow.
Post by maddox rothscus ✨ on Jan 22, 2018 9:47:28 GMT
all he knows about the mountains is that they are dangerous, and that his brother is named after them. probably. rarely does maddox venture that far out, unless at someone else’s behest. he skirts the fringes of them and frequents the outskirts of the city, but the actual wilderness he avoids, not in the way one avoids the plague, but the way one avoids an angry moose some arm-lengths away. that is to say: silently, with caution and much haste. and, if there is so much as a single movement towards you, run.
then again, evening strolls on your familiar hold a considerably different air to when you are tasked with monster hunting. not that the knowledge makes one magically stronger in any physical sense, but it does help him feel at least marginally more confident about tackling the monsters in the area. of course, the fact that maddox has worked together with this particular mission partner on multiple occasion helps too.
as far as something like this goes, he is confident in the scarlet-haired silvertongue. perhaps, one would say, trusts his capabilities. even moosely is, against his better judgement, put somewhat at ease by the fact that sirius is to join them today.
maddox reaches the foot of the mountain atop his familiar; moosely picks up the pace as soon as he locates sirius, picking his way across a haphazard path with more grace than a beast that large should have. “we’ve got to stop meeting like this,” he remarks, the corners of his lips tugged upwards into a smile. pale eyes scan the vicinity rapidly from his vantage point. the rough terrain may very well work against him and moosely; some parts look better navigated with the help of a broom. a small part of him regrets not learning to ride a broom. a larger part of him tells him to simply wing it. “so, how’ve you been? ready to kick monster ass?”
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Jan 22, 2018 11:56:47 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
mount zephyr looms overhead, shrouded in an ancient grandiosity that serves not only to highlight one's utter significance in size, but also in the flow of time; it stands, immovable as the earth itself yet primal and ferocious as it draws forest and stone upon its shoulders like a cape of wilderness, leaning forth to bar them safe passage with its pine-needle teeth bared in a savage grin. the quiet-coloured eve settles in falling shades of grey, soft and still and completely belying the dangers that lie ahead. kasimir awaits at the mountain's feet, long hair pulled up in a tattered crimson banner fluttering in his wake, a mere speck of scarlet against the colossal presence of the peaks at his back.
his partner is not difficult to spot - it is difficult to miss a lone rider parting the twilight to approach on a giant moose. "maddox," he greets, inclining his head. "moosely." with the other witch seated atop his rather tall familiar, kasimir is at a significant height disadvantage, and kirjava smaller still as she steps forth into amber-eyed materiality by his side. "we have been well. and we are... adequately prepared for this."
as perhaps would be evidenced by the lethal sword strapped to his back, or by the glint of bloodlust in his familiar's gaze.
although his personal history with monsters has been rather... tumultuous, kasimir has since dedicated himself to the betterment of his abilities; he is confident, this time, that this mission will not result in consequences as severe as that of suixitium had been.
"shall we?" he asks, turning his eyes to the irregular trail ahead. it does not look particularly easy to navigate on foot; perhaps, he thinks, he should have brought a broomstick. ( but even though he owns one, there is little a broomstick can offer over his preferred method of aerial transport save the preservation of a negligible amount of mana - but it matters not for he has maddox to consider; only should his partner turn to his air element for aid in navigation might his own wings come into play. )
Post by maddox rothscus ✨ on Jan 24, 2018 2:19:38 GMT
anyone with common sense would come for such a mission adequately prepared -- weapons, perhaps bandages if they foresaw such events. maddox brings some of the latter, a last-minute decision slung in a bag around moosely’s neck. he brings only a hunting dagger, and trusts his element to provide him with what he needs.
the moose lowers his head in some semblance of a greeting, just as maddox grumbles something that sounds like, “i don’t like mountains.” more coherently, he says, “any idea what sort of monsters we’ll find?”
he has come across monsters briefly, once, during their eventful trip into the forest pursuing the red light. the wild dogs, for one, and the chimera that had been bigger than even moosely. he has heard them in the bush as he takes moosely out for runs on the outskirts, but those rarely ever see the light of day, which is both a blessing and a curse -- it leaves the imagination to run wild, spinning gargantuan beasts out of shadows and dead leaves. today, it seems, will see such creatures in the flesh before him. he’s not sure if he likes the idea or not, but the fact that he is already here leaves him little choice but to proceed.
moosely does not give him time to think. with a snort, the familiar bounds forward, hooves finding purchase on the rocky ground.
‘you’re a useless air witch, you know. can’t even fly your own damn way up a mountain.’
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Jan 24, 2018 8:24:37 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
"hopefully not wild dogs, this time," kasimir responds dryly as he turns to follow his mission partner. as much as the canine beasts would be familiar to them ( or, as familiar as monsters can get while one is being mauled to near death by them ), for his peace of mind, he would really prefer not to be reacquainted with them.
the semblance of a trail laid out in jagged rock and loose gravel proves to be rather difficult to navigate, particularly when he is trying to keep pace with a long-legged moose. semi-translucent wings of feathered moonlight flicker in and out of existence as kasimir gives into the necessity an aerial boost - as well as a speed one; perhaps, he thinks wryly, he would be better off taking to the sky entirely. but he is wary of expending too much mana too early, especially with the possibility of extended combat later.
kirjava, meanwhile, vanishes into the undergrowth to the right of the path, the ground streaking away beneath her paws as she scouts for danger and scent trails. 'stay within range,' he warns her, concern underlying the brief mental touch.
she sends back a pulse of warmth mingled with acknowledgment and exasperation. there is no need for a verbal response, apparently, when they have executed this arrangement many, many times.
Post by maddox rothscus ✨ on Jan 27, 2018 14:16:01 GMT
“i hear ya,” he says, and there’s a mild grimace in his tone as he recalls the battle. he hadn’t come into direct conflict with them, having only briefly faced off with the creatures, but he doesn’t envy sirius for the entire incident.
moosely continues his upward journey, slipping occasionally on loose rocks but continuing onwards with dogged determination. maddox is, frankly, not sure if moose as a general species were the climbing sort ( and if moosely knew, the familiar simply did not care ). there is a twinge of something between admiration and jealousy as a flicker of light coalesces into gossamer wings, and moosely gives him a pointed harrumph, a noise coarse and rough against his consciousness.
“that’s pretty cool,” he ends up commenting, and despite himself it comes out surprisingly sincere. he might have said more, might have let his mouth run on before his brain can compute anything more sensible to say, if moosely had not stopped abruptly in his tracks. it is only practice and some less than fortunate experiences that keep the familiar’s antlers from jabbing the witch in the gut.
a rustle of leaves, a snap of a twig underfoot. a growl rolls out, a sound low and distorted amidst the twilight silence. one set of eyes glitter crimson -- then one set stretches into two, bodies yet shrouded in darkness. an axe flickers into existence in maddox’s hand, the curve of its blade glinting wickedly sharp. “i’ll take left and you take right?”
there is no warning. one blink, the monsters are crouched in the bushes. the next; they pounce.
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Jan 27, 2018 14:44:47 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
he blinks in surprise at the compliment, a brief moment of confusion giving way to realisation as he is once again forced to call upon the flutter of luminescent feathers to allow him to proceed. "thank you," he says softly, dipping his head and averting his eyes as a hint of coquelicot-red trails across his cheeks.
but any further thought is immediately cut off when the twilit forest reverberates with a rumbling growl - heralding the end of whatever tranquility the eve might boast.
kasimir is peripherally aware of his partner's position, the glint of a blade's edge alerting him to maddox's weapon; green eyes narrow on crimson, his own sword drawn with a sing of lethally-sharp steel. "agreed," he has time to say; and he has time for words no longer.
they leap.
nebulous shadow gives way to a predatory form with rippling muscles, ink-dark fur covering what seems to be a grotesque amalgamation of panther and wild boar; he ducks to the side, eyes blazing as he trades angelic wings for ones made of fire, tongues of blue and green flame licking at his sword as he launches a fireball directly into the monster's trajectory. the subsequent enraged screaming is both disturbing and gratifying - sacred fire truly seems to be much more effective than his normal techniques.
a brief mental touch, heavy with alarm; 'stay back!' he tells kirjava. he is not particularly worried about this fight, not with its power and his fire and maddox's presence. darting out of the way of another charge and letting his wings flare out to burn it, kasimir spares a moment to glance at his mission partner, just in case.
mission prompt here ayyyy #shitpostcentral scrolls used: wings of an angel techniques used: sacred fire (skill), pyromancy (skill), wings of fire, creation
Post by maddox rothscus ✨ on Feb 1, 2018 13:51:32 GMT
for a moment the beasts hang motionless midair, outlined in the fading light, and he gets a good long look at the monsters before gravity takes hold once more and they descend. beside him, the world begins to burn afire, until his vision dances cornflower blue. whatever skill the fire elementalist is using, it is truly a sight to behold.
the monster comes down with its claws outstretched and moosely side-steps just in time; maddox feels the rush of wind as it lands and spins around for another swipe, and this is when moosely pivots and charges. three steps in and there is enough momentum for him to swing, the axe curving a perfect arc before it crashes into the chimera with brute, bloody force. crimson droplets trail behind the blade.
it echoes the screech of its companion, a howl in pain abruptly aborted as maddox swings around to hurl a fierce gale at it, the winds screaming a challenge as they knock the beast off its feet. he fights loud and unapologetic, and in the flickering shadows cast by the flames a grin glints bone-bright.
had they any element of surprise when initially entering the mountain range, surely, they have lost it now.
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Feb 2, 2018 6:48:30 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
there is blood on maddox's blade, crimson outlining what would otherwise be all but invisible; there is blood in the air, too, and there is fire in maddox's eyes regardless of what his element may be. all the force of a raging storm lies behind the ferocity of his movements; one look, and kasimir can tell his partner is faring just fine.
his attention turns back to his own opponent; like a spirit of fire, he clothes himself in blues and greens and turquoise, steel flashing silver in the ghoulishly dancing flames as he darts - back, forth, back; dancing to the rhythm of heartspun war like an inferno roaring itself into existence - his blade tastes blood, and fire, and victory. they are like fallen stars streaking through a chasmic sky, embers and fury trailing incandescence behind them even as they flare out in smtarbright triumph;
his heart beats with the cadence of steelborn resolve, eyes backlit by the glow of his own mana; there is revenge to his actions, perhaps, a promise not to fall to the teeth and claws of the monsters in the wild mountain heart, but behind it all is a drive to survive and to fly and to burn. the chimera roars, screams with needle-sharp rage and pain and savagery, leaps with venom in its glare and pure hatred sharpening the edge of its fangs; but it falls, falls, s c a t t e r s in ashes and a
final scream
fading
into the
uncaring forest.
an almost unnatural silence falls. his side burns, just a little. considers. minor wound, scrape from claws - ignorable. shift slightly so that it is out of maddox's sight. kasimir looks left. eyes still burning green with traces of flame even as the fire bright in his hair trails away; cautiously scanning, up, down. "are you injured?" quiet concern.
mission prompt here ayyyy #shitpostcentral scrolls used: wings of an angel techniques used: sacred fire (skill), pyromancy (skill), wings of fire, creation
Post by maddox rothscus ✨ on Feb 2, 2018 7:24:20 GMT
visibility is a fickle thing -- the shadows dance wildly, stretch long and misshapen -- violet violence and a turquoise wildfire. he sees nothing but the crimson eyes of the chimera he hunts, feels nothing but the weight of the weapon in his hand, hears nothing but the crackle of fire beside him.
the monster hauls itself back up onto its feet and charges, a roar ripping out of its throat. he grips the axe a little tighter and gathers himself; leaps like he’s throwing himself off a cliff, like he’s saying- yeah, i’ve got monsters too, let’s pull them out and play-
the axe connects, the blade embedded in the muscle behind its neck but it doesn’t die just yet. it shrieks more, enraged, twisting around in impossible angles to claw at him. he digs in with his heels, hauls his weight against the axe, braces for impact because, honestly, he’s closer than any intelligent fighter would safely place themselves.
it ends as abruptly as it started. in a clatter of sharp hooves against stone, moosely rears up, dark eyes glittering. he delivers two stunningly accurate kicks -- the first effectively pushes the chimera off the axe, and it snarls in indignation; the second sends it skidding off the edge of the mountain. maddox hears a crack, and then, silence. the axe dissipates back into mere air.
‘are you injured?’
“me? right, uh,” a pause as he takes brief inventory. all limbs are intact. good enough. “i’m fine.” the tranquility of the evening feels odd, somehow, after the brief fight. he clears his throat, wipes off some blood on the hem of his shirt. mirrors his partner’s quick scan and asks, “what about you?”
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Feb 2, 2018 7:48:13 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
in the wake of the screams, the roaring, his heartbeat drowning out all sounds of night in his ears, the sudden silence is jarring. almost ominous. the rapid cadence in his chest refuses to believe that the threat is over. kasimir forcibly straightens, breathes; narrows his eyes at his partner's words and glances sharply at the darkened spots on his shirt. wounds?
or - and he relaxes minutely as maddox appears to move with no hint of pain, as the crimson marks do not darken or grow larger - merely the surface collateral of using an axe in an attempt at beheading. "i am fine, also," he says, and moves to sheath his sword before grimacing slightly at the blood coating it and continues holding it instead. ( very deliberately, he does not think about his side; minor, acceptable damage that will not impact his combat abilities, he knows all too well - and besides, it barely even hurts. )
pause, glance around; kasimir looks up at his partner with a faintly wry expression. "perhaps we should find an adequate location for fighting and ambushes," he says, dry as the desert heat. "kirjava his informed me that several more monsters have been drawn towards us." they were... not exactly inconspicuous in their fight, after all.
'scout ahead to the mines,' he tells his familiar in the meantime. 'and avoid any confrontations.' she should be within range of dematerialisation, should anything happen; as much as eliminating monsters away from sites where collateral damage may occur is advantageous, they cannot forget that it is the mines and the villages that they are ultimately contracted to defend.
mission prompt here ayyyy #shitpostcentral scrolls used: wings of an angel techniques used: sacred fire (skill), pyromancy (skill), wings of fire, creation
Post by maddox rothscus ✨ on Feb 2, 2018 8:08:04 GMT
somehow, he thinks, he doesn’t trust sirius’ definition of ‘fine’, but his partner does not seem to be in too much pain, nor can he see any visible wounds. it will have to do.
( he does not know how much room he has to speak: pain is somewhat of a familiar occupational hazard, and being raised in such an environment does wonders for one’s pain threshold; as does a rush of adrenaline, the feeling of which he is well acquainted with. )
“sounds like a good idea,” he concedes, and directs his gaze to the path that lay ahead, once more dark in the absence of fire. the sky is even darker now, and despite the fact that there is no true blindness in the light of clear sky above, the moon and stars don’t quite provide enough light for him to see by, especially not when his opponents are creatures well-adapted to the dusky mountain range.
he motions moosely closer with a vague wave of the hand, and the moose begrudgingly moves a few inches closer. hauling himself up requires a little more effort this time, grip slippery with blood and sweat alike, but he does it anyway. “the path here is a little too narrow,” he says, and casts a quick glance to where the chimera’s body had fallen. “if it flattens out anywhere, we could take a better stand there if need be.”
“best bet is probably to try and get to the mines without further interruptions, though. think we could make it if we run?” he pauses, considers, and turns around to pat moosely’s back. “moosely could carry two easily, if you want.”
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Feb 2, 2018 8:43:23 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
kirjava's grudging agreement should not incite this warm fondness welling up in his chest - but it does; 'stay safe' is the sentiment exchanged in shared mental headspace before they separate to focus on the task at hand. kasimir is far, far too aware of his familiar's fragility and lack of defences for his peace of mind, but knows far better than to hold her back. kirjava is a being of flame and freedom and fury - to cage her would make him far worse a villain than even xuan jin.
then he shakes free his thoughts from the gloom of the cobwebs gathered and lets his gaze pan out across the craggily peaks. he inclines his head in agreement, but as he narrows his eyes at the faint path ahead, he does not quite like the fact that they are walking headfirst deeper into the heart of the unfathomable unknown. "the mines are still a fair distance away," he murmurs, tilting his head. a quick featherlight brush against his familiar-bond; question and a sense of negation. "kirjava is nearing the entrance, but even she has not arrived yet."
he slants a rather wry look at maddox, then at the giant moose his companion is riding atop. somehow, kasimir thinks, faintly amused, he gets the feeling that his presence would not be the most welcome. "thank you for the offer, however i believe it would be more beneficial for me to scout ahead," he declines with a small dip of head, but his eyes are soft.
once again, light gathers at the base of his shoulder blades before they flare out into giant, luminous wings, this time far more solid and starbright than the gossamer, translucent feathers of earlier. he flaps them once, twice, before he bends his knees and launches himself into the sky, trailing red hair and light in his wake.
mission prompt here ayyyy #shitpostcentral scrolls used: wings of an angel techniques used: sacred fire (skill), pyromancy (skill), wings of fire, creation
Post by maddox rothscus ✨ on Feb 2, 2018 9:38:08 GMT
he nods in acknowledgement, just as moosely lets out a derisive snort and stamps a foot, sending small pebbles skittering. “that’s probably smart,” he agrees. his familiar turns around to regard him with a single baleful eye, as if to say, how dare you just presume-
( moosely doesn’t really have to say anything. past experience has provided maddox with a generous enough compendium of the moose’s colourful vocabulary that his imagination and memory alike will suffice. )
instead, he watches sirius fly off, admiration soft in his gaze. then belatedly, a murmured observation: “he’s very polite, isn’t he. it’s kind of endearing. unlike some.”
‘oh, please. if you’re complaining about me, then you know you don’t deserve any of my effort playing nice.’
a pause. “those wings are pretty cool, huh.” moosely shifts a little, takes a few steps forward, and stops once more. a mild flash of alarm comes from the familiar -- he attributes it to the fact that, for once, moosely is letting him sidestep a conversation topic.
‘you insufferable idiot, we have bigger problems-’
“what, the fact that i don’t have wings? because that is a problem-”
‘no, you fuckwit, look.’
he peels his gaze away from the skies and he looks. he sees. then a set of claws sink into his leg and drags him right off the moose, unceremonious and to his dismay. it is somewhat fortunate that he is a resourceful brawler -- he reaches wildly, avoiding moosely’s flailing hooves, and his fingers close around a rock. lifts it, snarls in defiance, and brings it crashing down onto the beast’s head.
it lets out a strangled whine, relinquishing its grip immediately and skittering backwards. the pain hits immediately, lancing up his leg as he stands. from what he can tell -- and that in itself is a difficult feat, since these creatures seem half the size of the previous ones ( he wonders if that in itself could be considered small ). they move terrifyingly fast; flashes of darkness given form, with needle-sharp teeth and razor claws. he counts as they dart back and forth: two, three, four, five even if his eyes do not deceive him.
he inhales sharply, turns his gaze heavensward for the briefest of moments to see an empty sky, then gets to work. snaps his fingers and the wind once more howls into action, a gale tearing through the space before him. moosely brings up a wall of wind, bracing against the impact as the creatures slam into the invisible shield.
techniques used: blade of wind, fierce gale items used: large rock
Post by kasimir burovski ✨ on Feb 2, 2018 11:11:30 GMT
blue moon
you saw me standing alone
the rocks and ravines and trees and ground fold away beneath his feet, the bordering night sweeping in with soft veils of deep indigo and dusk as the stars sprinkled across the sky glitter with pinpoint light; despite the seriousness of his task at hand, kasimir cannot help but appreciate the absolute beauty of these mountain ranges and the quiet-coloured eve.
his feathers whisper softly at his back while he tracks the faint path trailing far below with a keen eye, carefully noting the suitability of their surroundings for a site to match their needs. in the far distance, a dark smudge between tangled growth and jagged stone, lies the entrance of the mines; and beyond that still, a curl of smoke rises and dissipates into the still air as a marking of a village.
closer to him, the trail splits into two - one path the obvious main one that winds between forest and rock and wooden fences slowly rotting away; the other is a trail barely visible to the eye even from above, a perilously curved track that leads to a narrow stretch of natural stone bridge suspended over a steep ravine, with the other side possessing both high ground and excellent vantage point, and no place to ambush them from behind due to the sheer inhospitality of the spiked rock formations at their back. kasimir's gaze sharpens; he swoops down closer for a more detailed inspection - this location is perhaps difficult to get to, but it is very defensible.
satisfied, he takes to the skies once more, this time abandoning careful inspection for speed as he slices through the air on wings of starlight and silver, the wind streaming his hair out behind him in a flag of war and victory. he is not expecting trouble when he returns - he has not been gone for too long, by his count, and he trusts his partner to adequately defend himself;
he does not expect to return to a scene of maddox and moosely defending themselves against a horde of more monsters.
for a moment, the world stills- kasimir can see blood, and the nightmare creatures of darkness and needle-teeth are terrifyingly swift; then, his eyes burn blue and white and green as he raises his hand and hurtles a FIRESTORM of raging flames in vicious shades of azure. and when that is not enough, he calls upon the sun deity ( SOL’S BLESSING ) with single-minded fervour and lights the world on fire again ( FIRESTORM ).
Post by maddox rothscus ✨ on Feb 2, 2018 12:07:36 GMT
he anticipates the summoner’s return, certainly, but even with that in mind he hardly expects the moment where the world lights up, bright as day. in that moment, he can see everything, from the whites of the monsters’ eyes to the oil-slick glisten of their fur; then the moment passes and fire rains down from above. despite the situation, despite himself, he laughs.
moosely drops the wall of wind almost immediately, bellows something ferocious and challenging, puts his head down and charges -- it is an unorthodox method but the familiar gathers the storm at his feet and pushes himself forward with alarming speed, slamming into one of the creatures with enough force to make it shriek. pain flares along their mental link, white-hot and blinding, as the monster digs its claws into moosely’s shoulder. but it lasts only a moment: moosely slams it into a nearby tree, crushing the monster in the process. his shoulder goes numb from the impact.
numb, perhaps, but not useless; maddox trusts sirius enough to hope he doesn’t get caught too badly in the crossfire, summons the axe back up and leaps into the fray once more. it is a dance he could get used to, a whirlwind amid a raging turquoise inferno. he neatly sidesteps a currently burning monster and swings, feeling the axe connect and abruptly go heavy with as the creature goes limp. rinse and repeat-
he pivots on his heel to see another rushing up at him. raises the axe above his head, waits until he can feel its breath on his skin, and strikes.
techniques used: blade of wind, fierce gale, double jump items used: large rock