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.
The sounds of footsteps crunching on the sand could barely be heard over the sounds of the surf, the ocean ebbing and flowing along the sandy beach. The sound of wood, claw and bone ornaments, decorations of some sort clacked alerting any nearby to the travelers presence. A frustrated yell to the open air would be heard, an agressive yet feminine sound. "WHERE IN NHAAMA'S NAME IS THIS!? Where's my tribe!? I swear in Nhaama's name if this is some trick on Little Sun's part I will DESTROY him!" The angry woman would yell out into the open air, "LITTLE SUN! YOU HAD BETTER WATCH YOUR BACK I'M COMING FOR YOU!" The woman continued shouting. Dark blue skin...out of place in the pale coast, scales, horns and tail all midnight blue, platinum locks reflected the sunlight, the only way to describe the woman's attire was T R I B A L, VERY tribal, made from weaved wool and cured leathers, decorated with bones, claws, feather and little bits of metal....a staff clutched in one of her hands, a walking staff perhaps? or was the woman a magic user?
Keen eyes scanned her surroundings even as she muttered curses and obscenities about who ever this...'little sun' was, nothing but beach, sea, sand and greenery as far as the eye could see. "Even if I don't have my tribe...I will burn bright before I join Nhaama to be reborn once more, where even is this? No places like this on the Seppes, nor did the Khatun ever take us to fight in an area like this...only to Doma and then to the home of the tin men, what did they call that place...? The people were so weak I cannot rightly recall." The woman continued muttering and talking to herself, only one thing to do, further and further down the coast she went looking for something, ANYTHING of note...a town...a person...a fisherman...ANYTHIN! "I better not be alone here, a place like this...people have to be found here, Azim's children perhaps...much as I would enjoy picking fights....hells who am I kidding I'm gonna end up fighting someone or something. A good way to display the might of the Dotharl!"
On the Pale Coast, it was commonly understood that the further away you got from the city of Provo, the more significant the decrease in population density and, as far as the common understanding of the concept went, honesty as well. Mikkel found it more academically useful to use income brackets instead. At the resorts on the city's outskirts, you found the rich crooks. A few fences and other security measures later, you had the poor crooks – pirates, for the most part. Almost co-existing with the pirates was him, for whom there was no pension plan on any world that could have possibly covered for his, to put it rather more politely than necessary, continuation of existence well past his not-so-metaphorical natural expiration date.
And once you pushed yourself beyond even them, you only found wilderness. A crab scuttled about his boots, and hurried for the forest behind his back, heading towards the spot where it would find others of its kind and, with any luck, a mate or several. Overhead, sea ibises circled the beach, plunging down on any eligible creature within a safe distance from Mikkel. A week or so from that moment, and they would be feasting on the sahagin and turtle hatchlings that would emerge from under the sand.
Only wilderness, and travellers. Some of them, fresh out of whatever corner of the Rift came with places with any of the names the woman a few yards away from him had been yelling at the world at large for the past few minutes or so. His axe in hand, Mikkel stepped out of the shade of a palm tree and approached her in silence. He could not hear the sound of the shifting sand under his own soles over all that hollering. On second thought, she might as well just been part of the fauna herself.
“You are as far away from your tribe as you can possibly get.” He announced, driving the head of his axe into the sand, and then leaning on its handle. “Your Little Sun is well beyond your reach. Anything you know about your lands, meaningless. You are in Hell. Welcome.”
He mulled over that last statement, and considered the abundant evidence of the contrary in their immediate surroundings. He opted not to give her the time to do the same.
“You said you want to burn bright to rejoin Nhaama and be born anew. Shall we give that a try?”
It was not a lie that was going to hold water for long, but even then, sometimes, you had to stay committed to the bit.
Sadu's irritation flared...not at any one thing...it was the lack of ANYTHING, her surroundings were completely alien, she was separated from her tribe, her people. Only the crying of strange annoying birds, the sounds of the surf and the scuttling of crabs to be heard for miles aside form the woman's own voice, which betrayed the irritation she felt even without needing to see her face. The sound of another creature nearby.....shifting the sands, Sadu's eyes came to rest onto the strange...THING that had stepped out to meet her....she couldn't help the laugh that tore from her lips, the sneer....smirk that crossed her lips.
“You are as far away from your tribe as you can possibly get.” It announced to her, “Your Little Sun is well beyond your reach. Anything you know about your lands, meaningless. You are in Hell. Welcome.”
That brought out an even louder laugh from the blue skinned woman, her hair shook with every movement before her eyes settled upon the creature when it threatened to send her to her goddess. "You believe you are a threat to me <Ükheegüi>? You are nothing compared to the beasts of mine home....they would trample you to dust, stand aside." Sadu would sneer at the creature which believe itself to be a threat, "My people are undying <Ükheegüi>, we shall always be reborn, by decree of the Dusk Mother." Sadu reached back to unhook her staff, setting it to rest in the sands loosely gripped in her hand, the bone and feather decorations on her clothes, in her hair rattled and clanked in the wind.
Sadu waited several moments to see how the Skeleton, reacted but she got impatient, she began channeling what little magic, what little aether she could into her staff preparing to cast a spell at the undead creature. "You say I am the one in hell? If that were true, then Little sun would be here! Trying to convince me that I am to be his Nhaama! You speak lies and I will hear no more of them, make peace with your god abomination!" Sadu would proclaim with a sadistic fire in her eyes, what ever it was she was channeling....preparing....it was likely NOT very good for the Skeleton man!
She started sneering before he could finish talking, and a part of him could not help but feel that his entrance failed to elicit the expected reaction. You just could not keep up with what the youth and all of their new trends, and the end result was that what you thought was appropriately intimidating came across, in fact, as rather corny.
Corny, yes, but there would be vengeance, and Mikkel would see it come to its final fruition. Give it enough generations, and corny would soon turn into campy, and people would continue his legacy...
…and at first, they would do so ironically, yes, but at the same time, what this woman might think to be in style now would grow itself stale and tired, and the new generation would call those who insist on clinging onto it some incomprehensible coinage of a contumely, like cheugy. And only then would Mikkel point his finger at those who had derided him and close the circle with laughter of his own.
“You know, at this point I feel obligated to point out the irony of saying this while being even shorter than me?” And to the afterlife for naughty people with solemnity, he added mentally. “Well, that sounds just like being undead with extra steps, now isn’t it. Good for you to avoid the rotting – either that or you have an amazing skincare routine for your necrosis – but do I smell a hint of thralldom here?”
Mikkel took in the staff as the young woman unslung it from her back. It was hard not to notice the crown styled in the shape of a goat’s skull. Everything about Miss Namedropper over there screamed necromancer. Well, except maybe for her mouth, which in fact had been screaming just about everything else instead.
“Okay, now you’re just screwing with me: are you from hell, then? And is Nhaama something you rejoin or something you are?” He saw the sparks of magical energy now gathering around her staff. Weak sparks of magical energy, he noted with interest. Unbothered, he concluded: “Which I will concede is filthy rich coming from me, but if you intend to keep on spouting random names, I’m going to need you to do me a solid and keep your lore consistent.”
He glanced one final time at the staff and saw the magical energy building up still. Let it.
