Let's Make Our World Together

Here's an idea I just came up with!  I'll start the group out with an idea, and whoever replies can run with it in the way they'd like to.  There are no rules, other than what the forum already has.  I'm going to start it on a random world so we can play around with it as we please.  Here's your prompt to work with!
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It was a dark and stormy night in the countryside.  The winds howled with might.  A mother couldn't stop her child from crying as loud as the thunder clapped.  She huddled her little bundle as close to her as she could with each strike of lighting.  A fire started when one bolt of pure white energy hit the tree beside the barn they resided in.  Things were getting quite scary.

"Don't worry, my baby, everything will clear up by the morning," the mother stammered through her words, brushing a shaky finger along her child's wet cheek.  She could only hope that her words would be true.

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And that's all I'll write for now!  It's your turn!  Whoever wants to continue this story, please go ahead!  I've put it in the RP area so that way others can respond to the continuation as if it were a regular RP.  Remember to have fun with this - it doesn't have to be on Earth, with humans, as I did not describe much about the beings in the story.  Just a brief description and the location was all that was needed.  I hope this helps!  Carry on!

[Just gonna necro this, methinks]

Perhaps the worst part of the storm were the waves of hail, which scarred and streaked across the skies like meteors, before tucking themselves asleep in the earth below. By no means small in size, the frozen pellets tore through anything that dared to step in their path, and left little standing. A thunderstorm itself wasn't strange, nor was hail. But for a place that hadn't seen storms in years, the people of the countryside had been ill-prepared for the sudden maelstrom that now battered their homes. One could only wonder if this was a ominous herald of things to come.

Or so Vanessa would have presumed.

She hadn't been back to this place since she'd been a little girl -- a little troublemaker who'd spent more time causing mischief than tending to crops. Her interests was not in caring for farm animals or honing craftsman trades like her family had expected her to. No, she'd always felt the alluring siren song of being an adventurer, and how could an inquisitive young girl resist? Perhaps the only time she'd ever been able to sit still was with stories, regaling her with tales of knights and heroes venturing out on their own and daring to dream the impossible dream. Wandering storytellers and bards that visited with stories had been like candy for her, and her sweet tooth was insatiable.

When she'd turned 14, she'd finally taken a chance and set out on her own, never looking back on her time here. At least, for the most part. Real life was rarely as whimsical as a children's story, and a bard's tale was often more fluff than fact. These had been things that Vanessa quickly came to learn on her travels, though... it hadn't dimmed her spirit. In fact, learning that the world had more hues than black and white had helped her wanderlust blossom and bloom, and invigorated her. But today wasn't one of those days.

Somewhere along the line, she'd ended up as a Sentinel -- an order of magic knights that maintained peace and order throughout the country. She knew that she wasn't highly-ranked, but the position did allow her to venture out and explore new places for the good of the kingdom. And while she wasn't necessarily one to care for rules, the social respect and agency that came with being a Sentinel had been enough for her wilder side to tame over the years. But that hadn't been reason enough for her to return here, to her hometown. During her time of training with the Circle (the Silver Circle of Sentinels, to be exact), she'd come across and befriended a young man from this very town. They'd connected well as fast friends, and also as a formidable warrior-duo on the battlefield. Vanessa had eventually come to learn that the young man had had a family that he'd been meaning to return to for some time, and she herself had calmed herself down enough over the years to feel it right that she amend for her past at home. She still could feel a knot in her stomach, thinking about his promise to have her meet his wife and child.

But there had been an uprising to the south. And not every Sentinel gets to make it back home.

So here she was, now a dozen years after she'd last been home. Vanessa Clepsydra, Knight-Officer of the Silver Circle of Sentinels, now a messenger girl for her dead best friend's family. She'd assumed the trip would be quick and simple -- she admittedly hadn't been looking forward to making it to this journey's destination. At least, with the sudden arrival of the storm, she could put off the meeting until the morning, hopefully. The journey back would be more arduous, as the horse she'd been saddled upon had fled some time ago -- perhaps it had felt the coming storm? Vanessa had heard rumors of animals having such an awareness of events such as these, though she'd never put much stock into them.

Bracing herself against the hail that pelted her cloaked body, she made her way into the town's inn, hoping to wait out the storm for the rest of the evening.

The innards of the inn were well lit, but the atmosphere was rather somber. People spoke in hushed tones, not daring to raise higher than those around them. Several looked up as the door banged open, looking on as the girl entered the safety from the hail. The fires is the fireplace warmed the place up rather well, and in the left corner, closest to the door, was a stage.

His voice was soft and mellow, as he sang about heartache, love, loss... one after another. His fingers gently strummed away at the strings of the mandolin, his tune carrying to all parts of the building.


"No matter how many times that you told me you wanted to leave
No matter how many breaths that you took you still couldn't breathe
No matter how many nights that you'd lie wide awake to the sound of the poison rain
Where did you go, where did you go, where did you go" 

His medium length, messy, charcoal colored hair swayed about as he performed, revealing the pointed ears they hid. When he looked up at the sound of the door opening, His Amber eyes fell upon Vanessa... and he smiled. However, it was fleeting as he turned his attention back to the quiet bar.

"The promises we made were not enough
The prayers that we had prayed were like a drug
The secrets that we sold were never known
The love we had the love we had
We had to let it go..."

Nothing good was to come if the woman and her child continued to stay here.  The chilled winds turned the rain into icy stones, and fire that sparked from the lightning was coming closer, the heat of the flames keeping the lady awake.

As hard as it was, she had to ignore the sounds of her screaming baby and keep her mind focused on her next move.  The embers splashing the barn had now caught, the adrenaline heightening the woman's instinctual senses.

It was now or never.

...

Inside the inn, so serene, yet so tense, most of the patrons watched Vanessa enter.  The innkeeper, a man of about 40, heavyset with bright orange facial hair and a snaggletooth when he grinned, locked eyes with the newcomer.

"We be out of blankets, lass," he winced, looking her up and down, noticing her armor.  From behind his tall desk he remained, not wanting to pick a fight with someone bearing that insignia on her being.  "Due to the storm, 'owerver, feel free to stay as long as need be.  No charge fer jus' being among us common folk."

Out one of the windows, in the distance and over the hill, a mighty flame was burning what looked to be a tree and a barn.  Observers murmured the outcome of the situation from within the comfort of the inn.

"Grateful I'm not out there," huffed one.

"If ya were, though?" asked another.

"He'd probably be dead, seeing as he can't even get up off his lazy arse and get his own drink!" angrily whispered another.

"Ayyy, what's that in the mud?" the curious second one piped up.

"Be someone's horse or something," the first snorted.  "Judgin' by its size, maybe even a wolf."

Upon entering the inn, Vanessa took the briefest of moments to survey her surroundings and the patrons she'd be in proximity to for the next several hours -- her training as a Sentinel had taught her to scout out any and all potential threats when entering unfamiliar territory. But... this was her hometown, after all. How unfamiliar could it truly be? Most of the patrons were of little interest to her -- a few drunks, some gamblers, and the couple in the corner was likely engaging in an illegal drug deal. Any other day, and she wouldn't have thought twice about breaking up the exchange of illicit substances, but today? She was just paralytic over the task she had to perform. Aside from that, the drunks would likely only be a problem if they began to drink too heavily and start a brawl. But judging from the mellow atmosphere that the musician in the corner had manifested, that didn't seem likely. And gamblers typically didn't publicly fight, at least not here. In most other towns, she might have expected the loser to pull something underhanded out of vengeance, but the people of this too town were too... well-intentioned for such dirty tactics.

She only half-listened to the innkeep as she approached his desk, finally lowering her hand from the pommel of her blade. Though she couldn't vouch for the rest of the building, the ground floor, at least, didn't seem to have any troublemaker types. Before responding to the innkeep's offer, she paused as the faces around her began to feel more and more familiar with each chord of the musician's mandolin. Names of townsfolk began to rush back to her as she recalled her childhood here, though she doubted they would remember her. In her youth, she'd been a long-haired girl who'd spent so much time covered in dirt and grass, she might have been mistaken for one of the beasts that lingered around the town's perimeter. A dozen years of combat training had taught her to keep her auburn hair short and out of the way, so as to prevent foes from pulling it when engaged in close quarters.

"I've no need for a quilt." Vanessa turned around for a moment, very much aware that there were still some eyes focused on her. In this instance, there was little her Heliochemy magic could do to take attention off of herself, so she'd have to try something else to maintain her self-imposed isolation. As she returned her attention to the innkeep, she let her shoulders slouch slightly and let her arm rest on the desk. By adopting a more relaxed posture, she could already feel a bit of the tension ween away, though she was doubtful she could make it disappear entirely. She spoke again. "I'm looking for someone. A woman by this name and face."

From her girdle, she slowly unclipped and unfurled a painter's rendition of the woman she'd been sent to speak to, with the name written in a messy scrawl near the bottom. Unfortunately, Vanessa herself couldn't interpret what had been written down -- damn the penmanship in this country -- but she'd hoped that the woman's visage would be enough. As she awaited the innkeep's response, she kept a bit of her attention on the conversations of the patrons. It never hurt to be informed of local matters, considering she might be there for a while. Vanessa bemoaned the possibility, but couldn't ignore its likelihood. She knew very little about the widow, who might not even be in town at the moment.

Vanessa tilted her head slightly, finding herself more and more entranced in the bard's melodies as he continued to play, though she knew she couldn't let herself lose focus entirely. No, there was work to be done on this day. But she suspected that raging fires and hordes of wolves may be the more pressing concern for these townsfolk than the very real conflict bubbling up in the rest of the region.

The bard's performance finally ended, as the musician placed the mandolin on a stand in the corner of the stage. After a quick bow, he made his way to the bar, ordering a tall glass of mead as he took his seat. He gave off a rather lonely aura, as he silently sipped his drink, drawing circles in the slightly dusty counter top. The male muttered to himself what sounded like directions, perhaps to his next destination. With the storm outside, however, it doesn't seem like anyone is really going anywhere for a while....