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
Welcome one and all to our beautiful new skin! This marks the visual era of Adventu 4.0, our 4th and by far best design we've had. 3.0 suited our needs for a very long time, but as things are evolving around the site (and all for the better thanks to all of you), it was time for a new, sleek change. The Resource Site celebrity Pharaoh Leep was the amazing mastermind behind this with minor collaborations from your resident moogle. It's one-of-a-kind and suited specifically for Adventu. Click the image for a super easy new skin guide for a visual tour!
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Caius hadn't expected to find this grotto, but here it was. He'd heard rumors of the discovery of some kind of ancient forest and had gone to investigate himself, his explorative nature taking over... But there was something about it that he wasn't expecting. This grotto. He didn't know how to explain it. But something about it made it clear to him that it was a safe place. While his shoulders remained uptight as he and the blue Fire Drake moved through the forest, Some sort of creature with a bob on its head flew past the trees, but Caius hadn't had a chance to get a good look at it.
At some point the relaxing aura of the forest convinced him to take a break. With Vordun curling up beside him, Caius sat down, cross-legged as he leaned his back against Vordun and closed his eyes. In these fleeting moments, he could feel the brisk air crashing against his face as the wind carried it to and fro. He could smell the forest, the trees, and remnants of the wildlife that had either been here or was currently here. Perhaps it would be a strange sight were someone to walk into all this. A 6'4 man with long blonde hair flowing down past his shoulders, sitting in a meditating position with his eyes closed, and behind him? A blue drake that was just bigger than the largest of horses, curled up behind him and seeming to be content to be used as a resting post for the man. It was a strange sight, indeed.
Though the sound of loud footsteps disturbed his peace. And then a new smell entered his worldview. The smell of an outfit that really needed to be washed, and a person that probably needed a bath.
A bead of sweat rolls down his painted brow. What time is it? Gilgamesh wondered to himself as blank white eyes search the forest for any clues that may reveal the whereabouts of his lost weapon. How long have I been looking? Crescent blade, scarlet shaft. One would think that a naginata fitting this description would have stuck out like a sore thumb here. Is it just me, or do all the trees look the same here?
Then again, given recent events, it was hard telling just how commonly such occurrences happened for the bizarre-looking warrior, who grew increasingly desperate to reclaim the misplaced implement as though his very life depended on it. Which, to be completely fair in this scenario, it did, but such a chain of logic ran on the assumption that dangerous beasts were out prowling around.
Judging by how obscenely placid and tranquil these woods were, a normal person would have safely realized that there was nothing worth feeling nervous about and simply went about their merry business.
But Gilgamesh—ever the melodramatic fellow—felt exposed, naked, without a means to properly defend himself, and this particular naginata had sentimental value. He could not simply replace it with another one, much less abandon the weapon to the mercy of the elements. His pride as a warrior refused to allow his beloved treasure an end so ignoble and cruel!
"Oh, come on! Where is it!?" Gilgamesh complains loudly, but then snaps his undivided attention over toward the nearest tangle of shrubs. He inched closer to the thicket, unaware of the colorful blooms that seemed to take aim at the swordsman, and dove almost headfirst into the bushes upon capturing what he believed was a glint of polished steel. "Found you!"
He did not, in fact, find his missing weapon. Instead, the screwball of a swordsman was lovingly welcomed by the soul-crushing agony of a thousand tiny needles burrowing deep into his skin. Gilgamesh had made the rather unfortunate mistake of attempting to swim through a bramble patch, which was bad enough on its own, but made all the worse when its flowery fixtures started dispensing a hideous chemical odor into the air, perfuming the swordsman's clothes to great effect.
"Hrk!? Aagh! Guuaaah!!" Very little needed said here; it was painfully obvious that Gilgamesh did not have a plan of action in mind when he thought it appropriate to try what he had just tried, and it would take an uncomfortable number of minutes for him to wrestle free of his thorny, malodorous prison. At the very least, his clothes remained resilient to wear and tear, but the real damage had already been done.
Outraged, riddled with numerous minor injuries and smelling worse than a skunk on date night, Gilgamesh sizes up the plant as if it were sapient enough to understand the trouble it had now landed into. Tempting as it was to show this floral fiend what for, he was regrettably ill-equipped for the task, giving the harebrained swordsman all the more reason to simply turn the other cheek and resume his initial search. Gilgamesh boasted, "Consider yourself lucky, foul flower fiend, because I could have had you reduced to mulch in zero seconds flat!"
Still vexed by his weapon's utter refusal to make its presence known, Gilgamesh grumbled below his breath, pacing aimlessly through the forest in the hopes that something about its presence would jog his recent memory. "Could it be that I may have lost it in the Rift?" Such a theory proved worrisome for him to give any serious thought, as it would have meant Gilgamesh was careless enough to have dropped his naginata—or worse, allowed it to be destroyed—following his audacious charge against the demon Necrophobe.
Unwilling to humor the possibility any further, Gilgamesh took to casting wayward glances all around in a half-serious effort to keep himself distracted, when a peculiar image fell into his field of view.
Sitting a couple dozen meters away appeared to be a great blue... thing? From this distance, it looked to be pretty large. At first, the word 'dragon' crossed the swordsman's immediate thoughts, but the creature didn't seem to have any wings fixed against it. On the other hand, Gilgamesh wasn't an expert in animal biology and didn't seem too concerned by the differences in taxonomy.
Now, the person sitting in front of the mighty beast was a different subject altogether. Their form was compact and still, motionless like a statue, firmly attuned to the immediate surroundings. Meditation? Only a true expert of the blade kept their mind sharp as the steel they carried at their side!
Gilgamesh forms a lively smirk with his painted lips, then takes to the forest canopies with a single leap, cleverly using the foliage as concealment despite the fact that he smelled worse than a Malboro during the peak of its reproductive phases. Deft steps carried the swordsman from branch to branch until he was close enough to observe the stranger (who turned out to be a man with really long hair!) and his pet lizard.
Being without a weapon, it stood to reason that Gilgamesh was currently harmless in this situation and was merely taking the initiative to gather more information about where he was at and what he was dealing with. Perhaps if fortune favored him today, not only would his lost naginata turn up, but he could very well receive an opportunity to demonstrate his legendary skills against a warrior from another realm! It was like killing two birds with one stone.
This was also assuming Gilgamesh wouldn't be mistaken as a random stalker.
The smell got worse. Worse and worse by the moment. Caius could hear a large metal presence beginning to approach him. Vordun was able to hear it too, though the dragon's sense of smell had alerted him to the presence of the stinker long before it had for Caius. The low growl that emitted from the drake tipped Caius off to the fact that most likely, their stalker was near. Caius' eyes flew open as his head darted toward the sound of rustling leaves. Vordun's wings unfurled themselves as the dragon would get up, and Caius quickly sprung to his feet as well. He didn't know this forest well, and while the place felt safe, and nothing had jumped out at him so far... He had no reason to doubt that something could now.
He could see something red in the trees. Something very red, clashingly red when compared to the trees and branches around them. It was difficult to see entirely from behind the trees, but his potential assailant looked akin to a big bridge of a man. Or was it even a man? A woman, maybe? Or creature, perhaps? Man, woman, creature, bandit... It could be anything. Or perhaps he hadn't escaped that illusion-filled forest after all... And he was merely being fooled once more by it.
In a flash of bright blue light, the gunblade materialized in Caius' hand as he pointed it toward the rustling trees and the big red blob of a thing behind them. He couldn't see them well enough to what what they were, only that they were living. And that they stank. Badly. A breed of smaller Malboro, planning to feast, perhaps? Caius wasn't planning to wait long to find out, as his finger quickly moved to the trigger just in case they jumped out at him.
"Ho? It appears as if he is rather perceptive!" Gilgamesh stupidly yells the obvious facts aloud from the safety of the treetops, giving away his position to the stranger and his big blue beast despite the crimson-cloaked oaf's certitude that he was completely imperceptible to the naked eye. Truly astonishing, if it weren't so pathetic. "Make no mistake, warrior, for your—!"
Crack. The swordsman grunts hesitantly, freezing in place. An awkward couple of seconds pass before Gilgamesh tries again to bewilder the fellow with his self-perceived arts of confusion, even though common sense rendered this impossible long before this encounter ever started. "—For your eyes do not deceive thee! You behold a legend in the flesh, a living myth given shape and form! I have—"
Kh-ch-crack. Okay, something was seriously off here... "—I have crossed the boundaries of space and—" Ckh-k-kh-khrack. "—Space! And time! Banished to the Rift was I for my peerless strength in battle!" The snapping became transparently audible now, shifting its way into a groan that would immediately prove concerning for the foolish warrior's unfortunate observer, who was likely to have realized how much of a blithering idiot Gilgamesh was by now. "Quiver in terror, for you now face the immortal—"
Crunch. All sense of balance vanished into thin air as Gilgamesh felt himself drop to the forest floor like a brainless sack of bricks, having snapped his perch in much the same way an overweight trick sparrow on cheat day might. He shrieks in distress, but is cut short when the swordsman's head virtually buries itself into the hard dirt with impressive force, leaving the rest of his armored body slumped over itself.
"Hlngnhmnnh..." Even in such a compromised state, Gilgamesh tried to finish his sentence. If nothing else, he was determined to make a good first impression, redundant as it was now. He flaps his hands uselessly for a couple of seconds, then pushes against the ground for leverage before pulling back, gasping for precious air. "I meant to do that!" he insists.
Wasting no time, Gilgamesh flounders his way into a standing position and assumes a dramatic stance. "Face me at thy peril!" For some reason, the rancid stench of his clothes seemed a little more potent, even from this length away. Amazingly, the blundering swordsman didn't seem to notice it.
So much for a grand entrance...
Caius Dragelion ● IT'S ALL DOWNHILL FROM HERE, LOL ● 393 words
Itamen was gripped a bit harder in Caius' right hand, while the gunblade was soon accompanied by a second sword in his left, a short sword with, strangely enough, a small handle on each side. Spinning the smaller blade between his fingers, Caius prepared himself for attack as the big bridge man would begin to give his battling speech...
... A speech that went on...
... And on...
... And on.
Caius lowered his blades as he heard the cracking, that could be heard even from where he was standing. With all that armor, and thus that much weight, it was inevitable he supposed. He raised a hand to try to warn him.
"Hey, uh, you might want to watch the-"
But he kept going. And the buffoon kept going and going and going. Caius turned to look to Vordun a moment, who let out a snort, expelling steam from his nostrils before Caius looked back to the Big Red Doofenstein as he continued his speech.
"No really, you probably should-"
CRUNCH.
Caius winced as the Big Red Monster tumbled and hit the ground hard. At the man's flapping and flailing, then insistence it was on purpose, Caius' palm soon met his face. "Oh geez" He groaned, shaking his head. "Astrals spare me. Or just kill me now. Either one's a mercy at this point."
But Doofenshmirtz wasn't finished, as he floundered his way up and seemed intent on a fight anyway. Caius couldn't take the smell much longer, but he was so befuddled by the performance in front of him that he almost didn't notice.
"But you don't have a sword. You can't exactly fight without one" Caius pointed out as he walked over, before picking one of the tree branches that had fallen with Stinkward's graceful entrance and tossing it to his feet. "There you go. You were saying something about facing you at my own peril?"
The fact he kept a straight face through this was a minor miracle.
"You have principle, I give you that much!" Gilgamesh compliments the other swordsman, completely unaware that he was doing everything within his physical capacity to keep a straight face before the pure lunacy that unfolded before him. He was courteous enough to provide an unarmed adversary with a weapon; verily, this fellow channels the spirit of a true knight!
But did he have to give the tremendous Gilgamesh a mere stick? What about one of those weird-looking swords of his? Surely, those were far more superior and worth pitting against one another in a battle to rock the foundations of destiny itself!?
...Although, now that he looked at it much closer, it was a pretty nice branch. The weapons collector hated to admit such a fact, but this guy really did have good taste in sticks. Lovely shape. Not too gnarled or twisted, just the right length and density for making a spear—
Wait! This was not the place nor time to be captivated by nature's splendor! Whether he realized it or not, Gilgamesh's considerably more stoic opposite had inadvertently jogged his memory on the spear hunt that had occupied his attention for whoever knows how long.
"Actually, now that I think about it, I could use your help with something!" The lumbering dimwit of a barbarian shifts the tone of the conversation on its head once again, taking a few leery glances at the surrounding forest as if he were being chased by a slight gust of wind. "My favorite pole arm has gone missing, and I'm at a loss for where it may have been misplaced." Gilgamesh winces upon remembering his earlier swan dive into a bramble of thorns.
Just as quickly, the strange warrior segues into an earnest admission of general uncertainty, mindlessly spewing expository banter as if his life own depended on it.. Either that, or Gilgamesh was in need of some serious counseling. "Y'know, come to think of it... I'm not even sure where to start altogether! One minute I'm trying to fight off some freaky bat demon, and next thing I know, I'm here! But I don't even know what 'here' actually is!"
One of his own arms drives a surprisingly potent slap across its owner's face, pulling the frantic idiot back to reality just long enough for him to prioritize the current matter.
Whether they wanted to be or not, the blond traveler and his dragon cohort were faced with the choice to simply ignore this brainless halfwit and do something constructive, or help him recover his naginata at the expense of their ability to smell anything for the next several hours.
Caius Dragelion ● IT'S ALL DOWNHILL FROM HERE, LOL ● 439 words
Somehow Caius wasn't surprised that the buffoon had managed to lose his weapon. Though the note that he didn't know where "here" was and that he had suddenly appeared here while fighting a monster was of interest.
"You're another off-worlder" Caius remarked. It was a quick conclusion to come to, but it was pretty clear to him. But Caius was taken off-guard when the Big Red would suddenly start slapping himself around. "Hey, hey, you don't need to do that. I'll explain everything" He promised, holding his hands up defensively, as if it would do any good. He tried very, very hard to hide the exasperation from his face. "Essentially, you've arrived in a continent called Serentestra. In another world entirely. So most likely, you're not finding anyone or anything you know anytime soon. And if your weapon was left back there, well... You might be out of luck. Unless the last time you had it was here, and you just misplaced it when you arrived" He explained quickly, trying to keep it as short as possible. "Don't bother trying to get back, by the way. There's no way back to your own world. Sometimes people just disappear at random and I assume that's a rift having taken them back. They've even disappeared while in my company sometimes, and my memory of them slowly starts to fade, indicating they've left this world" He finished.
He did try to keep it as short, plain and simple as possible seeing as he had his doubts Gilgamesh would understand something lengthy. But he had no idea how much of it would fly over his head.
Why did he seem to play this role so often with off-worlders? How long ago was he a lost off-worlder himself?
"With that said, where did you last see your weapon? Serentestra isn't exactly the safest place. You had best get yourself a proper weapon as soon as possible if you intend to even survive the trek to town."
It seemed that Caius had chosen to help the Big Red. He couldn't exactly leave a newcomer in the middle of nowhere and defenceless, after all. It just wasn't in his nature.
"Also, if we find a lake, preferably one without clean drinking water, so as not to endanger wildlife... I don't know what you ran into on the way here, but you need a dip" He remarked bluntly toward the Big Stinker. "I've suffered through worse, but... My companion isn't used to it" He spoke, motioning toward the Drake who could be heard sniffing and by the sounds of it, growing rather annoyed by the smell that wasn't going away. "I think a man with your... Experience, knows that a cranky drake isn't exactly something you want to deal with if you can help it."
In a few cases, Gilgamesh has often been compared to the infamous combustible fiends known as Bombs, and these observations have usually proven to be true in one way or another: they're unintelligent, can only follow simple commands, recognized for their immediate unpredictability, and are fated to self-destruct when pressured to do so.
Perhaps the Goddess of Fortune herself chose to intervene on this sad affair, as the dual-wielding fellow certainly must have been touched by her lucky influence to express such unwavering stoicism in the face of all these, for lack of a better noun, shenanigans.
Destiny must have conspired with the stranger, as well, since he found a window of opportunity to verbally assault Gilgamesh with a remarkably no-nonsense demeanor and a series of points that were harder to swallow than the abominable stink that clung to the warrior's clothes and armor.
Saran...test tube? Serendipity? Salad dressing? Words are hard, but the idea that Gilgamesh was unlikely to ever reunite with his army of eternally loyal fans and followers—much less find the weapon that has won him countless battles, or a way back to his own world—was just downright cockamamie!
The insults didn't stop there, either (even though poor Caius here was demonstrating some truly legendary patience for Gilgamesh) because now he was making personal digs at the self-obsessed collector's overwhelmingly thin sense of pride. How dare he imply that his naginata was not a proper weapon?! And what was the big idea of telling him he needed to take a swim in a lake?!
Whether the unfortunate man realized it or not, his most recent suggestion triggered a primitive memory within the scarlet swordsman's otherwise exceedingly spacious brain; glimpses of the duel against the former Dawn Warrior and Surgate Castle's king Xezat began replaying themselves to Gilgamesh with perfect clarity, reminding him of his failure against his fleet of warships on account of those four Light Warrior brats, not to mention—
Galuf.
That miserable codger! That senile old coot! That...really really old guy! Not only did he help Bartz and his wacky bunch of friends beat his faithful companion Enkidu to a bloody green pile of feathers, this geezer had the audacity to humiliate him further by somehow escaping his ultra-secret-forbidden-genuinely-illegal headlock—passed on to Gilgamesh personally by an ancient warrior who lived in the mountains for ten-thousand years before achieving immortality that's totally a real thing—and sent him plummeting into the ocean.
"How dare you!?!" Depending on the perception of both human and dragon observers, it appeared as if Gilgamesh completely misinterpreted this simple suggestion for a blatant attack against him. But to the scatterbrained warrior, it was about as close to being directly challenged to an actual sword fight, as this unfortunate blond fellow was now about to realize. "Nobody tells Gilgamesh to take a swim and gets away with it!"
If it weren't already an inconvenience of its own to contend with the stupid swordsman's imbecilic behavior, then it was guaranteed to become an immediate priority for the other fellow and his blue beast to realize that a massive black silhouette hovered menacingly behind the ignorant fool, roughly circular in shape but distinctive enough to recognize a slithering mass of oily tentacles below, a cluster of ochre eyes all centered on the rambling Gilgamesh, and a gaping maw full of deadly needles for teeth and visibly dripping with a putrescence so utterly vile and foul that all attempts to describe it in words can do it no justice.
Worse yet, it was blue. This was no ordinary Malboro.
Gilgamesh was clearly out of his mind, but right now, there were bigger vegetables to fry.
Caius’ brow furrowed in turn as the brute would suddenly get offended and accuse him, seeming to be ready for a fight. Well, his tone had shifted quite quickly, hadn’t it? Caius didn’t waver though, his gaze turned to stone as he stared Big Red in the eyes.
“I have ordered nothing of you. Only stated you are offending the drake’s senses” Caius corrected calmly, yet firmly. “If you wish to continue to provoke him until he just decides to eat you, that’s not my problem.”
Vordun begun to growl, and Caius looked back to Vordun, as if wondering if this smelly stupid idiot had managed to annoy him enough to merit the drake actually eating him. But when the growl began to grow fierce and turn to a snarl, Caius knew that wasn’t the case. The smell may be god awful, and he was sure Vordun had a more sensitive nose than he… But not even a smell this bad would set off Vordun to this degree. Annoy him, maybe. Maybe cause him to snap at the buffoon and scare him off. But snarl? Bare his teeth? No… He sensed something. He knew that something was coming that Caius did not. That was the first thing to tip Caius off that something was wrong, the second being Vordun beginning to step forward toward Big Red. Growling, snarling, crawling with a crouch like a predator. Vordun wouldn’t do that if there wasn't danger nearby. Something actually dangerous.
Gilgamesh’s wretched scent had thrown Caius off the scent of the Great Malboro that had begun to rise, but it didn’t take long for Caius to see it when Vordun gave his warning in his own way. The final toll came though, when Vordun acted first -- the heated glands in his mouth beginning to glow as he unleashed a torrent of flames in continued succession against the Malboro, firing right over Gilgamesh’s head.
It was there that Caius was able to see the blue thing in the trees. And his eyes widened. Cursing under his breath, Caius quickly drew his blade.
“Vordun” Caius commanded calmly to the drake as he rushed forward, dashing past Gilgamesh as he quickly casted Blizzard the moment Vordun finished his flamethrower, dowsing the fires he had begun to set in the forest while also hitting the monster at the tail end of the attack.
He had fought Malboro before. But nothing like this. He knew, somehow, that this was more powerful than the one he had fought in the tunnels.
Aha! His magnificent aura has stirred the fighting spirit of the mercenary's dragon companion! Not even the most powerful creatures of this strange new realm could resist the desire to prove their worth against the legendary Gilgamesh! "You will rue this day, swordsman, you and your little gecko friend! My strength alone has crumbled armies to dust!" Surely that would get them to reconsider trying to puff those chests out against him!
Wait. That thing was looking pretty angry there...is it snarling?! Oh no, it's snarling. Definitely a lot of that happening right now... Deadly nails penetrate the dry soil, as if showing Gilgamesh a sneak preview of events to come, eyes full of menace. Then came the distinctive flicker of embers rolling from the corners of its maw, a telltale sign that it was ready to throw fire in his general direction.
Amazingly ignorant to the depths of the proverbial grave he just dug for himself, Gilgamesh chortles boisterously as he throws his hands into a dramatic battle pose. "Steel thyself, for I'm about to make boots out of you!" he taunts, only just realizing that Vordun had begun emitting a rolling stream of flame that made Gilgamesh instantly regret these terrible decisions and tuck his armored body into a compact ball, just barely avoiding the unfortunate outcome of being roasted to ash by the dragon's fire breath, incidentally being missed by a Blizzard volley that whizzed by.
The Great Malboro's shrieks of horror upon having its meal interrupted penetrated the tranquility of the Wanderwood as flame and frost confound the monstrous vegetable in perfect harmony, slimy tendrils writhing in their loathsomely iconic mien. Its titanic body begins to thrash about with savage power, virtually throwing Gilgamesh several meters out of the way—to the warrior's complete and total surprise as he lets out a feminine scream—in order to better focus its primitive anger on the other two interlopers.
Its needles for teeth chattering maliciously as a viscous goo-like substance splattered the woods with liberal abandon, the cerulean creature begins to gurgle audibly while its hideous form shuddered and convulsed in place, following this with the abrupt expulsion of a rancid congealed mass of mucus from the depths of its throat, a shot that was guaranteed to strike the advancing dragon square in the face if it continued moving in a straight line.
Fortunately for the two, the Great Malboro's tantrum had effectively removed the obnoxious Gilgamesh from the scene by tossing him so hard into a cluster of trees that repeated impacts to the skull ended up knocking him out cold, thereby allowing Caius and Vordun limitless freedom to dispatch the fiend as they saw fit.
