StingyParrot

Hell yeah - adding a scent to aura would impart an even greater sense of personality to spellcasting. Perhaps it could also be affected by the type of magic used. E.G Blood magic smelling like, well, blood along with whatever the mage's own aura scent is, and maybe Voidal Magic causing the scent to be almost too strong, a hint that it isn't natural.

Much-needed changes for Air and Water - I'm also really stoked (pardon the pun) with Fire Wall's buff, makes it an actual danger in combat. Also, yeah, happy that there's no more instant kidnapping.

Yeah! I got the idea from a book series called The Alchemyst.

I think that auras should have scents - It'd be real cool!

An Oyashiman makes a few notes in one of his many journals, green-gold ink marking the pages in neat, precise movements.

Arakawa came across the shrine on one of his treks through the golden dunes - he'd stop, halfway between bemusement and awe at the sight. "Huh." He'd muse. "Now that's somethin' nice to paint." Without further ado, the Oyashiman would set up his easel and canvas, preparing his artist's tools.

A studious Oyashiman looked up from his current readinng subject - a copy of the Bestia Conlectia. "Hmm - Hopefully it doesn't cause the Chamber of Earth too much trouble - Two powerful magi goin' head t' head. . . They'd better try an' get their fight done in the Arena. . ." Pursing his lips, Arakawa would then dip his quill in ink, continuing his study.

Arakawa somehow manages to find missives tucked up in his pet chicken's nest, his store of herbs and spices, his closet, even in his attic. Mumbling to himself in utter confusion, he decides to re-use the paper, writing notes and drawing sketches on them.

The End to a journey But the beginning of another Myrios Veiel, once owner of Veiel Alchemy and Weaponry, would sign off on a final letter, having sent many in recent days. Wandering, as if in a daze, back to his shop, he’d gaze around the little building he’d been in ownership of for the past couple years. Displays were left empty, signs taken down. He’d swing a cloak over his shoulder, and place a simple rucksack by his side. He’d carry no weapons, save for his heirloom bow and Bowie knife. Then, he’d stride away, his boots making little noise on the pathway. Before leaving society proper, Myrios did visit one place. He’d watch as the flickering lights of Minitz slowly dimmed, the residents turning in for the night, as a sudden rush of memory came to him. Arriving in Minitz for the first time - to a Moot in full swing. Faces flashed through his thoughts. Mayrin, Orion, Anton, Maxwell, Yvian, Greg. Meeting Brandt Barclay, joining the Warband, becoming Brandt’s Hirdman - Opening his first shop. A whirl of conflict follows, the Glebite menace having appeared in force, then - A set of bright moments in an otherwise grim time. Seeing Axel, just a boy in the rain, taking him under his wing. Being taught Alchemy by Siegfried Barclay, building the fortress of Riverrock - and meeting Eloisee. The Glebite Wars ended, but it was Eloisee who captured Myrios’ attention in this time. He’d eventually propose to her, atop the roofs of an abandoned town - then their wedding, with him arriving late. Axel - Or Tibalt, as he was now known, getting into all sorts of trouble, then eventually leaving one day - The birth of Adelaide, his knighting, then his memory grows dark and troubled as he remembers the first strikes of the Mori against Almaris. A blur of fire and conflict - seeing Minitz in flames, retreating to a refugee camp - Seeing Eloisee again, and being introduced to two adoptive members of his growing family, Rose and Calla. Years pass, and the people of Almaris find their new home in the lands of Aevos. Myrios remembers - The attack by the Franks, Eloisee’s worsening health, then, like a hammerblow, her capture by the Franks. His memory grows melancholy and despondent as he begins to receive Eloisee’s letters, then a final blow to his soul as her letters stop coming. Looking back now, Myrios realises that, in the years following Eloisee’s death, he’d been running from it almost, moving his shop twice, burying himself in work. But then, finally, he’d came to terms with it, after almost fifty years. Myrios would enter Minitz under the blanket of night, leaving a hefty chest of items, upon which was laid a sheet of parchment. TO THE PEOPLE OF MINITZ - I am leaving now, leaving society as we know it - I shall spend the rest of my days in the Wilderness. I leave the contents of this chest to the Warband, they may find it useful in the conflict against the Franks. I have given my sword, Finisterklinge, to Sir Stanton Stroheim, along with much of my alchemical knowledge. I trust him to keep it well. Wer Rastet, Der Rostet. A journal was sent also to Sir Artel von Theonus, containing much similar knowledge to that he gave to Stanton. His ring he would keep, a reminder of his old life. He’d never taken it off since he’d first gotten it. As Myrios left the city for the last time, he’d look back, feeling a welter of emotions swell up. His promise would compel him to never return, but he’d always keep Minitz in his mind. With that thought fresh in his head, Myrios would set off, for his new life far away from the machinations of society.

Hell yeah super water blast

MC Name: StingyParrot Discord: stingyparrot Image: Description of Image: A supposed image of Arakawa's parents. Dimensions: 1 wide, 1 high

Arakawa pinned up one such announcement poster, grinning widely. "The Firefly." he muttered to himself. "Yeah - I could work with that."

It had now been over half a century since Myrios had received the letters from Eloisee, GOTT rest her soul. Having busied himself with shopkeeping, he often refused to admit to himself that he was trying to avoid dealing with the guilt of her loss. Had he been just quicker, more hasty, he may have reached Eloisee before the Franks did. Now, he brought the letters out from his bedside table, reading through them for the first time in decades. The missives, now weakened by the passage of time, rested on his desk, illuminated by gentle candlelight. He was right - he'd never truly dealt with his grief, just avoided it, plastering on a cheerful expression, or, when he faced El's killers, a reckless rage. Neither was capable of satisfying him, however. Fresh tears fell, marking the letters with splotches of moisture. He neglected wiping them away. After all this time, the Franks were still a threat to Minitz, and a savage reminder to Myrios of his failure. He watched as a dragonfly settled on his quill, the resplendent insect staring at him with almost gem-like eyes. It fluttered up to him, hovering just before his face, then zipped away. Unbidden, a phrase came to the Adunian. "Weep; for not all tears are an evil." Had he read it somewhere? Or was it a gift? Bowing his head, Myrios allowed the tears to fall, feeling as though he was expelling a poison he had been willingly holding onto all these years.

IGN: StingyParrotRP NAME: Sit Myrios VeielPERSONA ID: 79555

IGN: StingyParrot Persona: Myrios Veiel Description: A merchant-knight with a good hammer arm. He uses a longsword, by the way, not a hammer.

Arakawa jabbed at the missive, waving it eagerly in the face of his pet chicken, which immediately resulted in the fowl punching a hole in the parchment with it's beak. "I am in the news! I'm famous!"

Garrow looked up from his metalwork, the carefully crafted blade clattering to the ground. "No way. . ." he hurried off.

Myrios smiles at the poster. "We do deserve some fun, especially with all the madness going on."

Myrios perused the notice, smiling as he read the contents.

"Ah," Myrios mused as he read the poster. "Perhaps I'll compete then. . . ." He looks at the item he was perusing before, a double-recurve bow, an heirloom of his family. "I hope they do archery. . . ." He puts the bow away and then becomes utterly engrossed in cooking food for his soon-approaching marriage party.

Myrios Sarran, in his forge at the time, sifts through his various curiosities and treasures to uncover a vial of vampire blood. He uncaps the vial and pours a small amount of salt in. The red liquid boiled furiously as it makes contact with the white grain, and Myrios grins slightly, then closes the bottle and turns back to his metalwork.