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!
Final Fantasy Adventu is a roleplaying forum inspired by the Final Fantasy series. Images on the site are edited by KUPO of FF:A with all source material belonging to their respective artists (i.e. Square Enix, Pixiv Fantasia, etc). The board lyrics are from the Final Fantasy song "Otherworld" composed by Nobuo Uematsu and arranged by The Black Mages II.
The current skin was made by Pharaoh Leap of Pixel Perfect. Outside of that, individual posts and characters belong to their creators, and we claim no ownership to what which is not ours. Thank you for stopping by.
Post by Sir Terence on Apr 23, 2024 13:29:01 GMT -6
Sir Terence Beaufoy
Human | 28 | 5'9" x 160 | M | Soldier
Three weeks had passed since Terence first arrived on Zephon. He had been assisted in almost anything by his lover, from surviving the wounds caused by a monster of a man to recovering from those same wounds, as well as months of depression, underfeeding and a complete lack of training. He was in a much better shape - still not perfectly fine, but at the very least he could roam in the city without worrying for his own health.
Dion was away, at the moment. He had accepted a request from a local orphanage and left the day before. He was probably still travelling, Terence believed. He lost himself in thought while roaming aimlessly in the streets, wondering when his lover would come back. That was until he saw a terribly familiar figure chatting with someone, apparently without a care in the world. He could recognise his inhuman build, the long golden hair, the dark attire, the red cape and most importantly his weapon. He had felt that scythe slash through his flesh.
A sudden shiver jolted down his spine as fear, strong as he had never felt before, overtook him. He was a soldier, but for some reason, he could not keep his emotions in check. He glanced at his own trembling hand, confused and taken aback by his inability to stay in control, by the overwhelming fear that took his breath away. He had never been so scared before, not even back at Twinside. Not in that same, paralyzing way.
He started walking backwards before he could even realize it and then, unable to fight it, he turned around and fled. He fled like a coward, walking faster and faster to the point where he was almost running - until eventually, he bumped into someone hard enough he lost his balance, staggered forward and eventually fell on his knees. Suddenly, shame fell upon his shoulders with the strength of a waterfall. He was a coward. Even now that he was supposedly far away from that monster, he could barely move. He looked at his trembling hand again, before finally realizing what just happened.
He turned to face the person he had crashed into and forced himself to stand. “I’m s-sorry.” he stuttered “S-sorry, I d-didn’t mean t-to..” He stopped talking, upset by his own stuttering. He was a soldier. Where had his self-control gone, for the love of Greagor?! He took a deep breath and slightly bowed his head. “Apologies, I did not notice you. Are you hurt?”
Post by Clive Rosfield on Apr 26, 2024 11:52:26 GMT -6
THE OUTLAW
Perhaps the face staring back at Terrence wasn't one he would be quite expecting. It had been on every wanted poster in Sanbreque for years, after all. That of Cid the Outlaw, or Ifrit as Dion would have called him. The scar that was customary of those who had removed their Brands was clear on his face, and not many wore the garb that he did. His father's armor, meant for the Duke of Rosaria.
Clive blinked a few times as he stared down at the trembling man in armor. Clive was a bit heavy-set, so the collision had not knocked him to his feet. At most, it had pushed him back a bit. While Clive was a bit annoyed at being collided with, the Dominant chose instead to manage a smile and hold out a hand to help the man up. Of course, the man helped himself up and began to apologize profusely. Clive shook his head when the man asked if he was hurt.
Though he could almost swear he recognized that armor...
-------
-A few days prior-
"Clive Rosfield -- the Council of Torensten has come to understand that your actions were born not of malice, but of confusion. While you acted against Torensten and its Crystal, you stopped when the misunderstanding was cleared up, as was witnessed by His Majesty King Hremit. In a moment where you could have destroyed the Crystal had you chosen to. This, our Council has not let go unnoticed."
"However, your actions still put Torensten's people in danger, and several knights were injured by your hand. As you have no gold to pay reparations to them and their families, they will be paid by the Crown. You, and your hound, will pay off your debt to Torensten through service to its people until that debt has been paid."
"And what would you have me do? If you wish to brand me and make me your assassin, we are going to have to disagree. This trial is happening because -I- choose to cooperate, I would take care not to misuse that cooperation. I will -not- be made a slave again."
"At peace, Lord Rosfield. Recently, monsters in the area have become more agitated for reasons we are unsure of. Many of them have enclosed upon the city itself, as if drawn to something. Knights, freelancers and the Dragonblades have all been hired to take care of them, but it would do us a great service if you were to help thin their numbers. Do so, and your debt is paid. No strings attached."
"I see. So long as those are your only terms, I will fight your monsters. It is a fair bargain for the pain I have caused your people."
-------
Thus, Clive Rosfield's journey to redeem his honor and start fresh on Zephon began. There had apparently been some trouble on the border between Torensten and Provo, so Clive had volunteered to investigate. To be quite frank, he wanted any excuse to get as far away from his oversized jail cell as possible. And monsters near the border seemed like the perfect excuse. Of course, he knew that Torensten's knights were likely watching him, even here. After all, he was still a criminal until he had repaid his debt to society. So he knew he couldn't stay away long.
He had stopped in Provo after dispatching a wave of monsters, but finding that their leader had escaped. Some of the local guards stated they would be back with reinforcements, so he had taken the chance to see this city of Provo for himself, and restock his curatives with the pocket money that Mid had given him for the trip.
From Clive's side, Torgal would pad forward and sniff at Terrence, seeming to find something about his smell familiar. Something that Clive picked up on.
"I thought I recognized your garb."
How many dragoons had Clive fought? How many had he -killed?- Even now, he never forgot their faces. But this one's face he did not know. Only the armor. Torgal's curiosity confirmed his suspicions as well.
Post by Sir Terence on Apr 26, 2024 17:15:22 GMT -6
Sir Terence Beaufoy
Human | 28 | 5'9" x 160 | M | Soldier
When he finally raised his head after apologizing, Terence hesitated for a moment, blinking a few times. Why was the man so familiar, he wondered? There was something about the dark hair, the scar on his face, the clothing and just his overall appearance that reminded him of something he could not quite grasp. Looking at the wolf sniffing at his hand, Terence smiled softly. He was about to compliment the pet when the stranger’s voice reached his ears.
The man had recognized his garb, meaning he could have been from the same world as him. Then, as he asked whether he was one of Dion’s men, he brightened up and straightened his back out of sheer habit. “His second in command, yes.” he replied with a sincere smile. He was proud of his prince, and of being a dragoon, and of all the rest. Much less about his radiance and his deeds, but this he would not tell for the time being. “Are you from Valisthea as well?” He asked. While looking at the man’s pet again, something clicked within his mind and repositioned itself in the right place.
”Oh.” he muttered, moving his gaze back to the Bearer, ”Now that I think of it, you match someone’s description almost perfectly. Might you be Lord Rosfield, the Dominant of Ifrit?” he guessed. ”If so, the Prince has told me much and more about you, in the idle time I spent healing from my wounds.” About him, and his brother… but he did not dare mention him, not knowing whether they had been brought there together. He had no intention to put salt into a wound, if he could avoid it.
