Young Writers Society

Setting

The Arcadia is a five-story castle built by the dwarf Jothan, former legendary paladin turned merchant. He invested the loot collected via saving damsels in distress and slaying kingdom-threatening dragons into real estate, purchasing a swathe of land as large as a country. It is rumored he got an amazing deal on it. Mostly because the land was at the time plagued by bloodthirsty giants, which he turned into hamburger patties.

Jothan intended for the Arcadia to be a resort for epic-level adventurers who had run out of quests to gather, share stories around a fireplace, go on trips to the countryside, maybe slay some monsters like in the good old days, and generally relax with similar people. Nonepic adventurers also stop by frequently to rest up between their quests and maybe learn a few things.

It's spring, and the Arcadia has just accepted a fresh batch of adventurers from all across the globe. After a tour of the grounds -- partial, as it would take a few days straight on horseback to traverse the land in its entirety -- the adventurers are gathering in the courtyard for a welcome banquet.


Characters

I would like you to preface your first post with a brief description of your character. It should cover the most essential characteristics of your character, like so.




NPCs

And here is a small roster of relevant NPCs, to be developed as the story goes on. You're free to come up with your own, naturally.



PCs

the characters controlled by people, so far.




The story so far




Some rules

1. proper grammar
2. attempt to avoid one sentence posts, where possible.
2.1 Collaboration! I recommend this where possible, even if it's just messaging back and forth with a person about scenarios with your characters.
3. Each post must bring the story forward. Avoid telling the same event from different points of view or worse, going back in time.

Petrichor

"Welcome, adventurers!"

Jothan's voice resounded across the courtyard, smooth as the gray stone at Petrichor's feet. There were over a dozen or so people assembled, between guests and staff. Wooden tables, small and round, lined the center of the area. To the sides, there were longer tables, covered in cloth, on which plates of silver were stacked with food.

The center of the courtyard was dominated by a gigantic streaked marble fountain, depicting a warrior slaying a dragon.
The jets of water must be the dragon's blood, Petrichor mused. Though the dragon was awfully contorted, the statue as a whole was perfectly harmonious. Marvelous. I must ask someone how the architect figured out the piping.

"We have met on the ride here, but I would like to take this opportunity to welcome you once more to Arcadia!"

The crowd cheered in appreciation. Petrichor cracked a smile. The atmosphere was very pleasant, this was immediately obvious.

"We will have plenty of time to talk more," Jothan continued, "but now, you must be worn out."

He gestured to his sides. "Please, eat!"

Jothan labored down from the podium he was standing on, by the fountain. Someone clapped him on the shoulder, and he nodded.

After a few moments of milling about, the crowd headed towards the tables with the food. Petrichor did not. He sat at the nearest table, and, resting his chin on his hands, gazed at the fountain as the tables around him filled up with chatting people.

Gabriel

And of course the most famous adventurer resort in the world would receive the maximum number of guests. It shouldn't even be a surprise, considering the broschure actually called it a resort. A place to relax. Humph.

It wasn't that Gabriel disliked people, because he generally didn't mind them; he simply disliked large gatherings of people. The more individuals congregated at any location, the less likely they were to remain individuals, as opposed to "one of the crowd". Gabriel never fit in, but he didn't want to. If only a few people were present, he would only have to deflect a few attempts at conversation. If the place was brimming with bodies, maintaining his privacy would become a nightmare.

He didn't want to spoil any of the other adventurers' holiday, so he remained seated at a table near the fountain while they had at the buffet tables. He tried not to appear annoyed, but it was difficult. Where everybody else saw a beautiful fountain and felt a cool breeze, he found both a nuisance; the fountain's spray occasionally blew on him, and each time it did, he would shake his head, draw his right hand across his hair, and flick back his fringe with his index finger.

Finally, the throng diffused across the courtyard, allowing him to approach the food without being bumped. He ladled an adequate portion of beef stew onto his plate and tasted it to ensure the seasoning was neither pungent or lacklustre. Satisfied, he folded his cutlery back inside the provided cloths and claimed a table at the very edge. He faced inwards so as to deter any would-be eating companions with a sharp glance.

Despite his strategic position, he had to interrupt many a "Hey there-", "Are you-?", and "Can I-?". Apparently, the other adventurers were not only chatty, but also ignorant to body language. Hopefully, nobody would be bold enough to seat themselves at his table without asking for permission first.

His hope was barely a second old before it evaporated.

"Hi there. The name's Laelius. What's yours?"

Zogin Arwitch:

Soul, unsurprisingly, was avoiding the fountain like the plague as she continued to greedily pile her plate with food. She hadn't eaten like this in days. Soul, who was still upset about the incident that had happened about a month before, would argue that the coat she was wearing was the reason for her empty wallet.

She quickly ended those arguments by pointing out with a rather smug grin that he was the one who had gotten into the habit of helping out people they met during their adventures for free.

That always shut him up real fast.

"We should find a table."

She nearly jumped at the sound of his voice. As it was, some food took a nasty dive towards the ground. Zogin spun around and aimed a glare at him. "Don't scare me like that, you idiot!"

He was unfazed by her glare. "The tables are filling up," he explained, gesturing at them. "While you've been taking your sweet time, all of the tables I wanted to sit at have been filled."

"Someone's salty," Zogin commented, quickly reaching for and grabbing a piece of unidentified meat. She cast one last reluctant glance at the food displayed on the tables before finally focusing on Soul.

"I will if the water gets into my armor. You would too." He gestured at the only open tables - the ones around the fountain. Zogin didn't show it, but she was concerned herself. Soul and water were a dangerous combination. If so much as a droplet of water got into his body...She tried not to think of the disastrous results.

"First off, the fountain isn't salt water, imbecile." She took a bite out of the meat. She knew that it wasn't polite to talk while eating, but she had never been one for manners. "And I'll sit closer to the fountain. They'll be less of chance of you getting soaked."

Before Soul could interrupt, she balanced the plate in one hand and used the other to drag him towards the fountain. "We're sitting next to that elf," she said. Zogin gestured to aforementioned with a nod of her head.

"Why do you get to decide?" Soul whined.

That was an easy question. "Because I'm stronger than you'll ever be."

"Bossy," Soul muttered.

Oh, this was war.

"Moron."

"Childish brat."

"Pain in the butt!"

"Hot head!"

By the point in time this last insult had left Soul's lips, they had arrived at the table. Zogin slipped into the open seat to the elf's right. Soul silently took the seat to her right, seeing that it was the only way they would be close to each other.

Both understood that their banter had been overheard by several people from the glances being sent their way.

"I'm Zogin Arwitch," she introduced herself once the elf looked in their direction, taking another large bite out of the meat. She jabbed a finger in Soul's direction. "This idiot over here is my partner, Soul Error Arwitch. You?"

Eremia:

Eremia, upon the end of the speech, quickly dashed over to food tables, outrunning many of the adventurers in attendance, many of whom were surprised to be outraced by a 17-year-old girl. However, exhausted from the tour of Arcadia - which she had learned, to her surprise and frustration, was not nearly a complete tour of the massive expansive - she was more than eager to dine on the piles of delicious-looking food organized tables. Grabbing the nearest empty plate and cutlery that was available to her, she happily began taking food and placing it on her plate. She picked nothing that looked like it was some form of a meat or had come from an animal, as she was a vegetarian. This, of course, was the only thing preventing her from stealing the entire table for herself.

The girl found herself immensely relieved and euphoric. After having spent such a long time tromping around her world, fighting miscreants and being thrust into a complicated political game (whose participants either died or used her as a pawn to fight the next opponent), it was nice to finally have the time to relax and enjoy herself for a change. Arcadia had been branded a resort, and, from what she had seen so far, it was definitely deserving of that title, much to her satisfaction. The part of her used to journeying and traveling nagged at her, demanding to explore the countryside and see who, or what, lived beyond the castle grounds, not to mention learn more about the massive castle itself, but she disregarded that voice. She wanted to satisfy her hunger, and nobody would stop her.

But, of course, it would've been unfair to not bring at least one of her companions in her group of misfits, so she had done exactly that.

Her companion, Taber, tapped her on the shoulder before she grabbed yet another bundle of grapes. "I don't think you want to eat yourself to death on your first day," he chided her in a playful voice.

Eremia, who had already stuffed several in her mouth, rolled her eyes, groaned, and desisted. She took her plate and walked away from the table, but couldn't make it more than a few steps before she began sampling the food she'd taken.

The boy, shooting nasty glares at anybody who tried to go near him (to great effect), grabbed a few parcels of food and placed them on his own plate. He ignored the stare he got from Eremia when he found a piece of what looked like a porkchop. When he finished, he asked Eremia, who was already devouring the food on her plate, "Where shall we sit?"

She stopped momentarily, swallowing the food in her mouth, to answer. "Nah, now that I'm not so hungry, I'd like to explore. We're by a huge countryside and a massive castle, and we can explore all of it. I'm not about to waste any time sitting, even if the fountain is beautiful and everyone else has gathered there."

Eremia grabbed Taber's hand, forcing him to balance his own food with the other, a task almost too much for him to perform in such a small amount of time. Ignoring the food that fell on the ground, she beamed at him and said, "I've heard this castle has some kind of a garden. Would you like to check with me?"

Blushing, he nodded, and she led him away from the other adventurers...

Petrichor

Petrichor tore his head away from the fountain as someone addressed him. It was two humans: a girl, short, and an armor-clad figure, towering above him, as he was seated. He ran his eyes over them. The girl was well-built. Muscles bulged underneath her tunic. The armored figure also carried themselves well. Petrichor was not too sad they had distracted him after all.

"My name is Petrichor Goldenfleece," he said. "Pleasure to meet you both."

"Fascinating fountain, isn't it?" Zogin said.

"Oh, it's amazing." Petrichor nodded enthusiastically. "I must ask someone about the piping, the statue looks so perfect from the outside, yet the machinery must be so intricate..."

he stopped, seeing her eyes glaze over, and smiled apologetically. "I am an engineer, you see. Though I mostly make weapons of war, I have a fondness for... beauty." His eyes gleamed

Their conversation was interrupted by some rather distressed noises coming from their left. They turned to see what was happening. Petrichor saw a dark-skinned figure cuddling up to an alarmed looking man in gray. He recognized him as one of the new arrivals. The man's eyes darted around, as if looking for an escape route.

"I'm with them!" he exclaimed suddenly, pointing towards two figures who were moving away from the courtyard. Two youths, a blond girl and a male.

The gray-clad figure stood abruptly and moved to their direction. He was red-faced.

"We're going to the gardens," the blond girl said. "Would you like to come with us?"

"Yes! Please!" His eyes darted to where the dark-skinned figure was sitting, looking rejected.

There was a deep laugh.

Jothan stood from his table and approached the trio. "Please, sit. There is no rush." He ushered the three firmly back to the table with the dark-skinned figure. The one in gray sat as far away as possible from them.

"We will all visit the gardens together, once we have finished eating. There is no rush, the sun is still high in the sky!"

"Ooh, the garden of wonders," the dark-skinned figure crooned.

There was a groan. Petrichor shrugged and turned back to his new acquaintances.

Soul:

The fountain was really unnerving him.

Soul and water were like gunpowder and a flame - you only put them if you were incredibly desperate or just plain stupid.

He was feeling more on the desperate side, but Zogin seemed convinced that he was simply being stupid. Then again, she usually seemed to have that opinion of him.

Zogin seemed to have conflicting opinions on Petrichor. The way she furrowed her brow gave it away. Soul usually found himself suppressing a laugh when she did so. She looked comically angry normally, but if she pursed her lips as well, she look constipated. Soul would be lying if he said he didn't find those moments very amusing.

Soul guessed that she wasn't thinking of the elf too highly after the beauty comment. Zogin had always harbored a hatred for pick up lines in any way, shape, or form.

Yet, Soul knew, she was in awe of the fact he was an engineer. Mechanics went together with the name Zogin Arwitch as much as peanut butter and jelly.

It was this second side that eventually won out from the look of admiration and kinship that appeared in her eyes. "I'm an engineer myself. My speciality is combining machine with magic. I've been studying the craft since I was a kid," Zogin cockily bragged.

Soul stared down at the table. He knew how this would go. The two would chat about mechanics for hours on end, and then he would be the awkward third wheel.

He didn't want to be that.

He quietly spoke up. "I know about mechanics too," he said. "I mean, Zogin is the real master at the metal part, but I'm better at magic!"

"Who said that?" Zogin scoffed. She was flustered. Both knew that he had just said the truth, but the world would before Zogin openly accepted that.

Eremia:

All in all, she found herself distinctly uncomfortable. No, she wasn't surprised that her attempted excursion had failed; she had expected that there would be some kind of a tour of the gardens and the castle itself. The girl was a little disappointed that her thinly-veiled romantic ploy (or, rather, attempted romance - she was still trying to deal with the puzzle that was having romantic feelings for someone else) had failed, but she was more so embarrassed. Being the daughter of a duke, and having been raised to behave in a particular fashion, she was embarrassed to act in a way she decidedly called undignified, especially around a group of strangers who were forming their initial opinions about her. Once more, her tendency to act reckless and animated when she was excited had not paid off.

No, she was uncomfortable because of whom she was sitting next to at the table by the fountain. The man in the gray outfit had moved as far away from everyone else as possible, and definitely did not look like he was in the mood for a conversation. Especially after seeing the not-so-friendly glances he was shooting at anyone who attempted to sit next to him. Meanwhile, the dark-skinned man, who was sitting to the right of her, was a little too close for comfort, and his smiles unnerved her slightly. She was a tad embarrassed (given Taber was sitting to the left of her) to admit that he was incredibly handsome and seemed friendly, and she hoped Taber didn't notice her blush slightly when the gentleman smiled at her.

Finally, after a minute complete with awkward stares and sidelong glances, the gentleman spoke first. Addressing Eremia, he said, "Hello! I'm Laelius. What's your name?"

Eremia hesitated for a second before responding. He seemed genuine, but she thought his food was a tad too friendly. Regardless, she wondered what could possibly happen, and replied, "My name is Eremia. I am the daughter of the lord of..." Her voice, while respectful, was stiff, and the Laelius stopped her halfway through.

"Yes, and you were acting very royal a minute ago," he said in a sarcastic tone.

The girl's face turned red, and she looked up at Laelius with an expression that was a mix of indignation and shame. His playful smile seemed to grow even wider by this response, but tinged with a slight amount of what might have been nervousness, as if he didn't expect her to react so strongly. Regardless, he continued smiling, and Taber, who realized what was happening, stood up.

"We can switch places," he said softly in Eremia's ear. These words had an instant effect on the girl, who - still blushing profusely - shuffled away from Laelius while Taber sat down between them. This effectively silenced any conversation going on at the table.

Well, well, thought Eremia angrily, moving the food on her plate around with a fork, what an interesting day so far.

Gabriel

About as uncomfortable as his reluctant companions, Gabriel glanced around him. His attempt at escape had failed miserably, and what's more, Jothan had said the group would see the gardens as a whole. Judging from the people returning to the tables for third and fourth helpings, that would still be a while.

Oh, and there was also the noise. That dreadful, maddening noise... how could one-and-a-half dozen adventurers plus staff be the cause of such a cacophony? It compounded the uncomfortable situation in which he was to unbearable levels.

He turned back towards the table to find the person opposite him the blond noble called Eremia, as opposed to her guard. It seemed they had swapped places to alleviate the awkwardness of their circumstances. Despite the incubus' shameless romantic advances - Gabriel shuddered at the thought of him stroking his sleeve - the girl was glaring at him.

He frowned. "Would you stop that?"

The girl was taken aback. "Excuse me?"

"I'll excuse you if you stop glaring at me. If you hadn't wanted me to accompany you to the gardens, you shouldn't have offered."

She gasped indignantly. "If you hadn't tried to run away, Jothan probably wouldn't have noticed!"

"Actually, he doesn't miss a beat," Laelius corrected.

Gabriel ignored him. "Then don't blame me for this - blame him." He waved his left hand at the incubus.

"What?" said incubus protested. "I plead not-guilty."

"You've made advances on all three of us," Gabriel retorted. "I'd say that's guilty on three counts of impropriety."

"Pfft. I'm such a flirt. Didn't you know?"

"No," three voices answered in unison.

"Oh, come on, now. This-" Laelius picked up his barbed tail and shook the end in the air in front of them, "-should have been a dead giveaway."

"I'm leaving," Gabriel said, standing up.

However, it was as if Jothan had waited for that exact moment to pass by their table. "Not yet, my friend," he said and affably yet firmly pushed Gabriel back into his seat. "Like I said, there's no rush."

After Jothan was out of earshot, Gabriel leaned over the table to speak to Laelius in a hushed tone. The imp responded by leaning closer as well, a mischievous smile on his face. Peeved, Gabriel demanded that he leave.

"Where would the fun in that be?"

Gabriel locked his jaw. "As a staff member, I'm sure you have a superior other than Jothan. I don't think that superior would be too happy to hear three complaints of harrassment."

Laelius lifted his hands in surrender. "Sheesh, tough crowd. I'll leave you alone for now, but I'll have been on an individual date with each of you before you leave Arcadia. Be seeing you."

Gabriel dropped his forehead between his right thumb and the rest of his outstretched hand. "Heaven forbid it, or else we shan't have a moment's peace."

"At least you got him to leave," Eremia said, looking over shoulder.

"True. Well, I suppose a proper introduction is in order, seeing as we've endured the same torture." He stretched a hand out to her after she had turned back. "My name is Gabriel. Yours is Eremia, I believe?"

Petrichor

Petrichor's eyes lit up. "A fellow artificer! I too have been practicing the craft for many many years. Perhaps more years than you've been alive, but I wouldn't be so sure. I learned my craft from a dragon mage, in a very distant land. Who taught you?"

They were about to settle into conversation Petrichor was certain would have been very pleasant, when somebody sidled into the seat beside him. He turned around to see the dark-skinned person from before, uncomfortably close to his face.

He was dark-skinned, with tall cheekbones and deep dark eyes, that bore right into him. Petrichor frowned.

"What's with that face? Jeez. I feel so unloved."

Petrichor's frown deepened.

"Perhaps you should be less friendly with random strangers," Soul said.

"It doesn't seem to be working today, no," he said. A tail -- his tail, slightly hairy, with a triangular tip -- poked up, and he twirled it between his fingers.

An incubus, then, Petrichor thought. He hadn't seen those in a while, but direct contact with its eyes, as far as he remembered, was enough to put regular sentient creatures under charm. Not him, though.

"Then tell me about yourselves!" He said. "My name is Laelius. You seem like... fascinating people." He was still looking at Petrichor.

He must have realized the charm did nothing. Interesting.

Zogin Arwitch:

She knew that her pride might get her killed someday - Soul often said that it would be the death of both of them. However, she found herself bragging to Laelius. "I'm Zogin Arwitch. I taught myself about mechanics when I was a kid via reading and experiments. I'm one of the best adventurers my region has to offer. I can easily shoot down a human with a gun I made myself."

"My name is Soul Error Arwitch," Soul quietly said.

Knowing him, he was probably scared to death. The fact that he had managed to respond to Laelius's feeling unloved comment was a feat in itself. She had to wonder if she was finally starting to rub off on him...

He continued. "I'm Zogin's partner, and the one who made the bullets for her gun. She's better at controlling her magic, but I have more knowledge on the subject..." She could tell that his face was getting red underneath his helmet. "...I'm hoping to someday become a mage..."

She was hopeful that he would reach his goal. But at the same time, doubt clenched her heart. If he was a mage, Soul wouldn't need her to free him everytime he got captured. Would they drift apart? Would she lose her one friend, the one person who carried about her?

Petrichor

"A gun!" Petrichor beamed. "I myself conducted studies on the matter. Fascinating stuff, black powder. I never understood how to make the reaction precise. You'll have to show me."

He was speaking quickly, excited, and paid no heed to the expression of bewilderment on the faces of his new friends.

"The reason why is that as the mages I was traveling with delved further and further into the planes of magic, I realized such technology would be obsoleted, and I also sought to learn more about the art."

He looked at Soul, smiling. "I am not the most powerful of mages, but I will gladly start you on the path, if you wish to move to higher levels of artifice. Oh! How silly of me. My name is Petrichor, by the way."

"Guests!" Jothan's voice resounded across the courtyard. "I hope you enjoyed your brunch. We will be moving to the gardens now! Form an orderly line please, our staff will show you the way."

"Oh, that's me," Laelius said. He jumped to attention and turned to them, still seated. "Follow me, lovelies." He winked.

Soul:

Underneath his helmet, he smiled. "Thank you for the offer, Petrichor," Soul said. As he got to his feet, he snuck a glance in Zogin's direction. It would be impossible for most to notice her smile was forced. But he wasn't most, and he knew Zogin better than anyone.

They fell back behind Petrichor and Laelius as they made their way to the gardens. "Zogin, you're upset about something. It's about me wanting to be a mage. I'm right, aren't I?" When she didn't respond, he took it as a yes. "I get it. You don't want me to be a mage."

She hesitated. "I do..." She stared down at her shoes. "You're growing up..." A sigh left her lips. "If you become a mage, you won't need me anymore." When she looked up at him, he could see tears forming in her eyes.

Petrichor cast a glance in their direction. Soul gave a thumbs up before turning back to Zogin. "I still will," he promised. Just not in the sense she expected. By becoming a mage, he could find and cast a spell that would make him human. And then he would need her to show him the ropes, and he would feel it was alright to love her.

But that, unfortunately, was far off in the future. Grabbing Zogin's hand, he raced to catch up to Petrichor and Laelius.

"Can I talk to you?" he asked Petrichor. "It's about magic." He glanced at his partner. She was busy fiddling with some pieces of metal as she walked, humming a song they had heard in the last town they had gone through. Good. That meant she wouldn't hear the conversation. Zogin was like that. If she was focused on tinkering with things, she would tune out the rest of the world. Soul had that problem when it came to books. "Do you know of any spells that could turn some made of machinery human? Something with gears, but is fueled my someone else's magic?"

Petrichor

The gardens were not dissimilar to those Petrichor had seen surrounding some of the mage towers in Mepherun. Everything was perfectly maintained. The cobblestones under his feet maintained their consistency at all points; paths branched off at regular intervals; waist-high hedges lined them. Of course, he noted, his waist was the head of some of the guests.

At regular intervals, the hedges formed nooks, which housed marble statues. They were of rare grace and beauty. Human figures blended with nature as if to form layers, like in a painting, marble fronds on hedge branches.



Petrichor could feel a powerful magical aura radiate from them. They were not simple marble statues. He was about to go investigate, when the clinking of armor signaled Soul's approach.

"Do you know of any spells that could turn some made of machinery human? Something with gears, but is fueled my someone else's magic?"

Petrichor halted. There were grumblings of complaint as people bumped against him, though they carefully avoided the giant suit of armor.

"A fascinating question. Why do you ask?"

"Well..." Soul hesitated. "Curiosity. It's a subject I'm interested in."

Petrichor gestured widely. "I can bring objects to life, craft boats that go on land and chariots that fly... however, their essence remains the same. An object. They lack humanity. I do not know of any magic that can grant such a thing. But you'll have to be more precise with me to have a precise answer."

Soul:

He opened his mouth to speak. But, almost as quickly as he had opened it, he closed it once more. He wasn't supposed to tell anyone their secret. If Zogin found out, she would be pissed. Incredibly pissed. Not speaking to him for a week pissed.

Yet, he had to know. Had to know if the spell existed. Had to know what he had to do in order to achieve his one wish.

He lowered his voice so the other adventurers couldn't overhear their conversation. "I'm an automaton Zogin created. Neither of us know why I'm different. Why I have feelings, and why I can control what I do. We both know she's supposed to control my actions, but she can't." He took a deep breath, even though there was no need for him to breath. "That's why I want to know. I want to become human for her."