Welcome to Adventu, your final fantasy rp haven. adventu focuses on both canon and original characters from different worlds and timelines that have all been pulled to the world of zephon: a familiar final fantasy-styled land where all adventurers will fight, explore, and make new personal connections.
at adventu, we believe that colorful story and plots far outweigh the need for a battle system. rp should be about the writing, the fun, and the creativity. you will see that the only system on our site is the encouragement to create amazing adventures with other members. welcome to adventu... how will you arrive?
year 5, quarter 3
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Days have passed since the dead first awoke, and now the streets lie empty and wasted. Where there had once been gleaming libraries there now lay piles of dust and stone. Where scholars and mages had once walked, now only the dead remained. Their moans echo behind broken walls and old, ruined fencing. The earth trembles with dangerous aftershocks that threaten to tear the town asunder. Once a hub of ancient knowledge, now the town is nothing more than an open graveyard.
The temple is no less dangerous in the daylight, but the fiend’s dark grip is more visible at least. A strange magic permeates the wall and wraps around the temple’s spires like ivy. The stairway to the temple is shattered into rocky pieces, and at the entrance above it, indistinct figures slump into the shadows, moaning softly. The smell of the dead is thick here -- sour, wet, and rotting. The ground grumbles its disapproval and threatens to give way again.
A lone monk awaits you at the gates. He stands nervously, clutching his staff with white knuckles. On the night the Lich resurfaced, he sent word for four “bright souls” willing to delve into the darkness to purify the temple’s magic. He promised anything he could give -- the temple’s deepest riches, the gods’ support, and an opportunity to uncover secrets long buried below the earth. Now he stands waiting on the promised day of arrival, praying that the souls will come and that they’ll find him before the monsters do.
He jumps at the sound of approaching footsteps, spinning his staff until it’s aimed towards the source. He stands tense and waiting with narrowed eyes. A bead of sweat drips down his ashen forehead. ”Who’s there?”
Curiosity killed the cat. Luckily cats have nine lives, not unlike a Turk. She gave a soft sigh as boots crunched though the woodland. The trek was made even more difficult with the collapse of trees and the scattered wildlife. Large trenches uprooted the flora in ugly mangled messes. Even now, Cissnei could feel the earth beneath her feet giving another threatening shudder. But Cissnei plowed on as if daring it to suck her into its clay bowels if it could.
As she drew closer to the destination point, Metaia Temple, the landscape seemed to vastly change. The plant life wilted and molded over. The strong smell of decayed animal flesh polluted the air. The wind moaned as if it hurt to use the energy to move. The sky seemed too dark for this time of the day and the convulsions of the land seemed more frequent here.
The woman smirks. Now this was a mystery fit for a Turk.
The sorry remnants of the woods dispersed, and the land opened up to show the temple. It seemed to be deteriorating before her eyes, and each step she took on the stairs crumbled the stone unnervingly. At some point she had to crawl her way over the rubble, just to make it to the gate. The entrance breathed out a moisture of death like a grimacing skull. If she felt any fear, it clearly did not show on her face.
Her eyes fell on the young monk who peered into the courtyard at the entrance. Her soft treading appeared to have startled him as he pointed his weapon at her. A stick? Really? She looked mildly unimpressed, as she crossed her arms over her chest. Ochre eyes followed down the staff to study his person. He was already nervous, and they had not even entered the real danger yet. This was off to a bad start. He already looked as pale as a ghost. There was a long pregnant pause while she took her time in answering his question. She made eye contact with him, “Cissnei. I was part of the help that was sent for. Are you my contact for this mission?”
She watched him for a moment before turning her eyes to what he was looking into. The shadows moved with groans. She felt amused as she thought the moaning creatures did not feel any different than the end of the day for a typical salaryman. “What do you know so far? I want a debriefing before entering this place. And this strange visible energy. Where does it lead to?” Cissnei uncrossed her arms to point up at it. She was assuming he knew the layout of this temple.
I've been screaming out a LANGUAGE that i never knew EXISTED before
A few days had passed since Ashe's adventure in the forest. The pain, the torment had all been for naught as a bust is what the two of them had found. It had been an obelisk where the darkness had seemed it most profound. Still despite their attempts the way inside proved impregnable. So, sullenly and with as much grace as she could muster from her abject failure, Ashe had made her way back to town to perhaps forget the memory for a time in her slumber.
Still as the princess so far from home laid her head on her pillow, it wasn't her thoughts of personal turmoil and her mind's distractions she was thrown into. Instead it was a dream, static and torn that graced her vision. Blues that faded into whites reminded Ashe of the Occurian's holiest of holy spaces. She stood ready her Treaty Blade held high as she walked into the light of their judgment. Her mind wandered. Had she alas proven tiresome to them as she meandered about; would a new apostle be chosen from them? But the vision faded grey. Ashe could feel herself being pulled between this communion and the waking world and did her best to stay tethered to it.
A vision occurred to her then. A woman bathed in light, her hair blonde and dressed in robes of blinding white spoke that Ashe intently studied as she watched her lips. "Crystal. Shattered. Evil." the woman seemed to reach out to Ashe but she recoiled demanding,"Who are you?" as the figure filtered in and out. It seemed a simple question to Ashe but the more she seemed to try to concentrate the more the words grew distant and faint. "Light. Land. Rot". The vision cleared and Ashe once again demanded "Are you a being sent forth by the Occurian or one above them?" The question went unanswered as a violent tremor brought Ashe back to the land of the waking
She followed that tremor further south where the land began to pucker and break at the fearsome force of such a thing. Both flora and fauna fell at her blade as she followed the most extreme of cracks and after shocks following them to the source. The land lay repugnant and disgusting as Ashe passed by the dead crucified by the road. Whatever customs had brought them to this, Ashe cared not as she followed the rot of the land to a gate.
Ashe slipped through without much force following what seemed a path of light calling to her. The smell and sights of bodies piked did nothing to deter her resolve although her body wanted to revolt as she approached two people by a gate secluding something deeper in this place of decay. Her eyes narrowed as they both seemed to ask the same question of who went there, "Amalia," she responded short and precise as she stabbed her blade into the damp earth. Her persona would be easier to use for now until she understood why she had been led here. "Did you too answer a summons?" she asked as she tried to gauge why the withered monk and suited woman would be here otherwise.
Getting lightheaded felt new to Arc, but the part where a voice spoke to him. He had been through that before. Somewhere in his mind he tried to recall if the feeling had been the same. It definitely felt somewhat... different from the past. He wasn't all too sure. Some parts of the past had become a bit of a blur, but he could still recall all the details well enough. It didn't seem too much of a bother.
Well, outside of being stranded in a new place without friends or allies, not knowing where this place was, but definitely certain that this was a new world entirely. So a new realm, no friends, no allies, just him. Alone. "..." This seemed like the best time to hide somewhere, possibly end up crying.
Yet the voice that had spoken mentioned the crystal of wind being shattered and the unleashing of a fiend. The shattering crystals seemed to haunt him to here. Or perhaps he was sent here due to these events having started? Would Luneth be there? He just had to know.
This was the very reason that Arc had moved, the earth had shaken and a lot of chaos was unleashed upon this realm. He just had to help and this seemed like the ideal way to learn more of others (and maybe find some of his friends). With the earthquakes, there had to be a source and he felt the need to find it.
As Arc came upon the temple and looked at the damage around the place, he still kept the female voice in mind. The land needed to stop rotting and this place seemed at this point more a graveyard than the town it probably was. While he continued to move, he noted some figures up ahead.
Hearing the questions going back and forth there, the young boy slowly and silently moved a bit closer, but kept his distance all the same. Viewing over the monk and the two women, he wasn't all too certain what to make of this. Still he kept some distance and said not a single word, mostly out of fear. Plus he wasn't sure if the question was asked to him. Perhaps they would all just get mad if he spoke, he did position himself so that at least the monk could see him and would be quickly noticed if either of the women hadn't noted his presence yet.
murk™ WORDS: 410 TAG: DM, @blacksuit, @ashe, @kithos NOTE: I hope this is any good!
Kefka had been watching the interchange between the monk and so called “heroes” that arrived to cleanse the Metaia temple. He had been drawn here, not just through word of mouth, but by the powerful presence of raw magic that has boiled his blood since he had arrived at Zephon. The existence of chaos had always whispered to him like a quiet heartbeat, and he was immediately drawn to these fetid ruins knowing that he would finally brush up against what he was seeking in order to regain his true power. The accidents at Torenstien and Provo had helped him realize that his magical potential was yet to be fully understood, but completely out of his control for the time being.
As he had transcended the devastated landscape, memories of death and destruction from his previous rule over the World of Ruin rushed back into his mind. The smell of rotting vegetation, smoke, and death was a comforting reprieve from what was otherwise an arduous journey to where this onslaught began. This would be his chance to regain the power he had single mindedly worked so hard to retain. What occurred here was mere child's play compared to what he knew he was capable of. Alas, only armed with a few supplies and a dagger to defend himself, cunning and wits would be his only weapons for the time being.
Kefka had staked out the temple, and was not impressed with the people who had arrived to provide cleansing. Another individual in black clad who seems to think she knows everything? A warrior that only brandishes her sword every which way when needed? And a child? He would need to be careful if he intended to survive this endeavor, but the draw towards magic in this ruin was nothing but intoxicating.
He was disappointed with the work the Lich had done that passed through here. “I could have done better.... Such a waste of a canvas.” Destruction was not on his mind for the time being though. At least something was doing his work in his stead. The only question in his mind was how much these well intentioned arrivals would interfere with his own agenda. “Not at all!” he thought to himself confidently.
He abruptly jumped down from the wall of the courtyard that he had been quietly observing from and addressed the newcomers. “It sounds like you need someone with extensive knowledge of magic to cleanse this temple, right?” he says motioning to the entrance to the temple, shoving the monk out of the way. “Just follow me, but let’s let sword lady lead the way.”
Turning back around, he asks “So what brings you here to grace me with your presence?”
The man’s eyes flick over the black-clad woman before him, visibly relaxing once it becomes apparent that she’s fully alive. ”Cissnei,” he repeats before nodding emphatically. ”I put out a call. I wasn’t sure anyone would come, but-” He cuts himself off and takes a gulp of air to steady himself. ”There’s something that must be done -- something no one here can. If you could fight your way this far…”
He jumps as another woman follows the first, glancing between the two of them nervously. Amalia’s hard gaze does nothing for his nerves, and he grips the staff tighter. ”Two of you,” he says. ”Yes, yes. This is good. I didn’t expect so many…”
He trails off as a splotch of color reveals itself behind her. His mouth falls open as he stares, eyes incredulous, at the garish thing that’s approached them. ”Who are you?” His voices comes weak with disbelief. For a moment, the monk can look at nothing else.
Once that moment passes, he steadies himself and glances between each of them -- the black-clad professional, the woman with the hard eyes, a wad of clashing colors in the shape of a man, and…
Someone else stands far behind them. A child. The boy watches them nervously, and the monk returned the look before turning his attention back to the adults.
”Right. Well, you’re here. Good, good. This is good. I called you here because of a power that’s long been sealed under this temple. Long before this temple was what it’s become today, it was the birthplace of a great warrior -- a monk devoted to the values of discipline and balance. She was gifted with divine power and set forth to seal away the world’s evil. Her tomb lies at the temple’s heart, and with it, her power…”
The monk hesitates, glancing cautiously towards Amalia and the garish man before shaking his head. ”Oh, I don’t have time for discretion! For centuries, the legend’s been just that. A legend. But those in the inner sanctum know that her spirit still guards something valuable. The crystal of earth gifted by the god Titan himself.” He looks between them and then back towards the temple. The ground shifts below them, grumbling as though in disapproval, and the monk grimaces, shoving his staff into the ground for balance.
”The earth’s dying,” he says. ”The crystal's been corrupted. Whatever evil’s found its way into this temple must have seeped into her tomb. I need you to delve inside and cleanse it. It’s our only hope.”
The earth shudders again so hard that the monk nearly loses his balance. Above them, stone jars loose from the upper floors and hurtles down, crashing between them. The noise echoes into the temple’s hall followed by an uneasy silence. Then shuffling feet and renewed moans, coming closer. Through the doorway, figures lurch in the shadows. The monk’s eyes widen as he stumbles back into the group he’s assembled.
”They’re coming!” he gasps. ”We need to reach the courtyard! I can show you the way, but we'll have to go through them first!”
Cissnei eyes turned to the newcomer who introduced herself as ‘Amalia’. Unlike the monk, Amalia’s harsh glance bothered her none. Cissnei gave her a nod of acknowledgement and reached out for a handshake in greeting. “It is a pleasure to work with you Amalia. I just followed the monk’s request for help.” Cissnei was straight forward with her words. She hoped that Amalia’s sword was not only for show. In the past she relied on the strengths of her comrades for melee support. She had no choice but to rely in Amalia’s strengths as well.
As she greeted Amalia, she noticed movement just passed her. She raised a brow at the young boy and try to give him a warm smile to lure him out. But she said nothing more to him. He seemed the shy, bookish type. If he was here to aid, then she hoped he found his courage quickly.
Then, a clown dropped from the wall and spoke like he was indispensable. Maybe he was. His confidence was certainly refreshing compared the child and monk. She just hoped his claimed magical knowledge was as great as his flamboyancy. For a moment, Cissnei’s eyes held the blue screen of death trying to understand how to follow someone if they were not the one to lead. It caused her to miss his last retort. Or perhaps she deliberately decided not to retort. Could not let all her sass out of the bag yet.
She shook her head to clear it as the monk spoke, her eyes settling back on him. So, the information he had was basically fairy tales? Cissnei’s eyes turned back to the courtyard and brought a knuckle to her lip in thought. Yet something was grounded in truth here. It was obvious paranormal activity was happening and the place certainly was corrupted… Cissnei tried to sift through the information and commit the important parts to memory. She gave a slight frown at the lack of information and the fact not all her questions were answered by the monk. However, it was a fact that stress caused one to remember less.
The earth rumbled angrily. She spread her feet and raised her hands over her head to keep her balance and protect her head from the rubble. Seemed there was no time to dawdle on chit chat then. If more clues were inside, then there was no choice but to go forward.
She clasped her hand on the monk’s shoulder as she walked passed him. She whispered gently at him, “Gather your nerves, even if its for the sake of the kid. You’re not alone. We’re here to support each other now…” Maybe it was true. Maybe it was not. Only time would tell. But having his nerves grated like this could prove deadly to him.
Without batting an eye, she walked passed Kefka into the courtyard. She saw the lurching, deathly figures coming toward them. Taking in her surroundings, she found a tactical spot to lure the creatures to. She moved for it as they began to lunge for her. Cissnei threw out a hand and the materia in her glove lit up. The whispers of Ancient magic swirled around her fingertips and congealed into a dark purple ball at the base of what was left of a stone arch. The already fragile stones snapped and collapsed, falling on a few of the lurching zombies. There was a gratifying crushing of bones, that Cissnei could not help but give a slight smirk. This is what she’d been missing out on.
But she kept her forward movement to jump along the toppled stones. In a flash, her outstretched hand had her signature shuriken in it. In a swift motion, the shuriken hit its mark ripping through the soft, rotting skin of the creatures. However, the severed parts seemed to still move and squirm. Cissnei walked up to them and kicked them aside. A vial pulled from her belt and the cork pulled by her teeth, she splashed the holy water over the remaining parts. There was a hiss of burning flesh and they seemed to melt back into the already poisoned Earth.
However, Cissnei could not stop them all. There were a few stragglers, who seemed to be rushing around towards the group. “Heads up.” She stated, almost comically with her own dark Turk humor.
I've been screaming out a language that I never knew EXISTED before
Ashe looked at the woman's face, then to her outstretched arm, and back and forth a few times before deciding to accept the gesture. If they were to work together then they should not begin on inhospitable terms. Still, she didn't fully trust the woman's intentions. Had she alone had the dream and come for such reasons, or was the woman keeping a straight face much like herself on the issue. "Likewise," she said with a hard nod before turning her attention back to the monk. So, he had also sent out for help was this by his own design or the higher being as well
She thought to directly ask him what events were unfolding as a child approached their small group. Ashe waited for him to speak giving him the same cold stare that she viewed the others with. The fact he did not speak or approach caused a her to close her eyes and forcefully exhale through her nostrils. "Has fate called for your arrival here, or are you simply a lost child? We've no time for the latter." True a lost child in these circumstances wouldn't be ideal, but there were far more important things to tend to now. Perhaps the monk could help him out after pointing the way for her and Cissnei.
The flash of colors falling from the sky had Ashe ready her sword, wrenching it from the dry earth and ready to strike with it. Instead of a monstrosity, they had been accosted by a jester of some sort. She took a disliking to his loud boisterous attitude and his dismissal of the monk as the thing pushed him aside. "Your gaiety and narcissism breed little ground for trust," she stated her nose wrinkled in disgust and her eyes cold as stone as she shot daggers from them. "I will not follow the unbacked words of some fool."
Still the time for proof of the jester's abilities would have to wait as the monk explained the situation at hand. Ashe had to stiffen her legs as the ground beneath her seemed to respond to the monk's unearthing of the truth of the temple's legends and guardiand. Divine power. Those words invigorated her as to her purpose then. If this warrior had been blessed then it made sense that a divine source would call out to those worthy of the blessing as well. She nodded curtly as they were told where they were to head as the sounds of the undead screamed out to them
Ashe followed closely behind Cissnei as the latter bee lined for the sound. It was reassuring to know at least one of the others had a fearless heart. As the other woman begin to corral some of the undead to her location, Ashe began to pick off the stragglers. One by one flesh was torn asunder by the Treaty Blade cutting through sinew like a hot knife through butter. The blade glowed it's unearthly blue as the tainted blood covered it's steel.
A few caught her by surprise as she was tackling two in front of her. She tried for a fire spell hoping her use of the black magics would push them away, but instead of recoil they continued to lumber through the destruction of their rejuvenated flesh. Steeling herself, she took a few steps back before running forward and skewering the few the stood in a row. The force of the action caused her to falter to her knees as she and the zombies fell to the ground. She quickly scurried away unsheathing her sword from their flesh as she stood and beheaded them before they could rise once more.
With that batch down, she turned to see Cissnei topple an arch across most of the other zombies. Ashe's eyes darted for more zombies before landing back on the monk, "We must make haste; where is the entrance?" she demanded circling the room as she helped to exterminate the few stragglers from the crowd.
The female warrior seemed to keep her eyes on him when she noted his appearance before taking a while to speak to him, "I-I was called here, I am Arc," he replied as he tried to get his nerves under control. This was right before some more odd things started to happen. Watching the scene unfold Arc didn't have much for words at the sight of his 'companions'. If they even were going to be companions to start with. Considering the jester started to shove the monk as he wanted them to follow him (before suggesting the warrior lady to go first). What is going on? he wondered distraught.
The monk started to explain the temple and the past. Arc listened curiously, being interested in the tales behind it all, albeit he kept his gaze moving between his companions. It felt like they might start doing things again that was less… helpful. Though, the monk soon ended his tale abrupt to explain what was going on.
The earth was dying, that was something he had taken note of and was here to resolve. Or help in any way he could. Arc was one of the Warriors of Light after all. Even if those words possibly held less meaning here perhaps. It seemed it was about time to start delving down into the place with their full party. He wondered what kind of role the suited woman held.
As the earth shuddered and Arc tried to hold his balance in place as he looked around to keep check of his surroundings. The monk started to speak much more troubled as he explained they needed to move through the undead that were moving towards them. Seeing Cissnei move forward quickly and cast a spell while using a shuriken, her outfit just didn't seem to fit whatever class she needed to represent to the youngster.
The others seemed to start getting into motion as well as Arc quickly followed. Looking at whatever stragglers were left behind, the youngster started to cast a spell of his own as he chanted words of magic before curative magics were cast in a light that surrounded several of the zombies near them. Arc was used to the undead being harmed by healing magic, so he was casting a Cura spell on multiple targets in an attempt to get rid of them before he continued to move after the rest.
murk™ WORDS: 402 TAG: DM , @blacksuit , @ashe , @kithos NOTE: -casts some heals- Just waiting to see if these zombies actually get harmed or healed by Cure spells.
Kefka continued his bluff. No one seemed to know what to expect inside the temple besides the monk, and the amount of awkwardly confused introductions and curious looks among the diverse group indicated to him that not only do these people not know each other, but they come from entirely different walks of life, which would inevitably lead to conflict eventually.
Amalia broke his train of thought as she snapped at him in distrust. “Suit yourself" he quipped. "Couldn’t hurt to try and make friends while the world is dying around us." As she turned her attention towards the monk's history lesson, Kefka stuck his palms up to his hears, stuck his tongue at her, and wiggled his fingers vigorously before promptly crossing his arms with a stern glare.
The monk began to tell the tale of a great warrior with divine power who had been entombed here. Someone who had been devoted to discipline and balance who could seal off evil from this world. “Looks like she did a pretty bang up job!” motioning his hand across the landscape “Too bad she’s dead, or maybe we wouldn’t have to be the ones cleaning up this mess.” His ears perked up a bit as the monk continued … crystal of earth gifted by the god Titan himself. Sounds like a gift worthy of yours truly, really.
The earth shook, making Kekfa jingle like a wind chime before falling flat. The monk motioned for them to move forward as the droves of undead approached. Amalia and Cissnei ran ahead as Kefka yelled “Go, kill them, kill all of them!”, still picking himself up. He cautiously approached to see Amalia and Cissnei had split the crowd. Distracted by his companions, Kefka had not noticed some undead were approaching him now. Better take care of this from a distance.
He started to grab some large rocks and hurled them at the oncoming shamblers, seeming to only aggravate them rather than do any real damage. One closed in on him fast as he unsheathed his dagger. As he backpedaled in self defense, he hacked at any limb that he could as the creature swung at him over and over, eventually overcoming the danger. As two more approached he lunged at the head of the first one, getting his dagger stuck in its skull, inciting another instance of desperate struggling in close quarters. He managed to kick the abomination over, but the second undead was almost upon him as he realized he was defenseless again, dagger still lodged in the skull of the first.
He decided to escape back towards the monk and the child for a moment, and has he retreated he felt a massive explosion behind him. Over his shoulder he could see the suited woman had used a magical device to destroy an archway, crushing a portion of the shamblers. The warrior was also beginning to light up as flames danced around her. We’ll deal with them later.
As Kefka reached the monk and Arc, he could hear from behind him that only had a precious moment to make his next move. “Give me that your imbecile!” Kefka snatched the monk's staff and swung in a desperate 180 arc, splitting the torso of an approaching foe. He swung wildly with what appeared to be no target, occasionally bludgeoning one or two in the process. “Does this even have any magical powers?!” he yelled back at the monk in disgust. In his moment of blind rage an undead connected with his legs, sending him to the ground. He crossed his chest with the staff in self defense as it pounced on him. “YOU IDIOTS AREN’T KILLING THEM FAST ENOUGH!”. As the wear and tear of the struggle was beginning to get the best of him, he saw that he was being enveloped by a green light.
