Tawraslan

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#1  Edited By _Avatar_

Enter Tawraslan...

 
Tawraslan is an empty Dwarven city, located on a small island off the coast of Canada, within the walls of a mountain. Sometimes fishermen see it, but it's almost impossible to reach, so they leave it be. Hundreds of years ago (That is a relatively short time in Dwarven terms), the Dwarves settled here, and in other areas, to set up mines in Midgard. However, only a decade ago, a plague was released into all Dwarven cities. It is unknown how this plague was created or how it originated, but most think trickery was involved. The plague wiped out all dwarves on Earth, besides Clans-Rans by chance. He had adventured off into human civilization, something no dwarves ever do, and it ended up saving him from the fate. When he finally returned, he found the Dwarven automatons cleaning the corpses of his fellow dwarves from the streets. Decades later, he lives alone within the city, with no one but the automatons to keep him company. All he does is continue the mine that his people started, doing the dead's work.   

 
 Dwarven Guardians
 Dwarven Guardians

 Dwarven Arrachies
 Dwarven Arrachies
  There are three types of automatons in the city. Guardians, Arrachies, and the Seer. Guardians are, as their name suggests, guards of the city. If they spot danger, they will act. Arrachies are small, spider like machines. They keep the city clean, the machines working, and will help if asked. They are also a bit like dogs, minus the fur. The Seer is one of sixteen "God automatons" that the Dwarves created, and the only one in Midgard. It's a huge, almost bird like machine. Using magic combined with Dwarven science, the machine was given true life. It feels, and it learns. The Seer spends most of it's time under the waters surrounding the island. If it senses anything coming, it informs Clans-Rans and all automatons, hence it's title "Seer". If any true danger comes to the city it will emerge from the depths to face it.
 
 
 
 

 The Seer
 The Seer
  The city also has it's famous mine, where Clans-Rans practically lives. It's a Dwarven mine, so obviously it's a very successful one. There are still empty mine carts filled with mined materials, left their by the Dwarves who died of the plague. Clans-Rans continues the mining, sometimes with help of friends he meets. The mines are rather perilous. Not only due to normal dangers, but also due to the cave trolls that some may find. It is best to avoid the mine at all unless accompanied by Clans-Rans.
 
 
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#2  Edited By _Titan

Nice, very original

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#3  Edited By Rumble Man

Gotta protect them automatons from non-human discrimination

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#4  Edited By _Avatar_
@Rumble Man: What human is gonna oppress them?
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#5  Edited By Rumble Man

@_Pick: So called heroes and adventures trying to get treasure while gaining exp along the way

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#6  Edited By _Avatar_
@Rumble Man: ......
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#7  Edited By Rumble Man

@_Pick: Villains normally would invest in finding crevices to build secret hideouts while neutrals have their own agendas

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#8  Edited By _Avatar_
@Rumble Man: No one seems that interested in coming here, so yea :p
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#9  Edited By _Zombie_

Just gotta say, you get automatic respect for using the Dwemer mechs.

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#10  Edited By CainPanell

Epic dude.

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#11  Edited By Rumble Man

@_Pick: Trust me, whenever there are miners there will be evil

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#12  Edited By _Avatar_
@Rumble Man: The proof is in the Dwarven pudding.
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#13  Edited By Rumble Man

@_Pick: Is there any job opportunities for a sentient automaton in that mine?

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#14  Edited By _Avatar_
@Rumble Man: Do you really think a sad, drunken, angry Dwarf is hiring? O_o
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#15  Edited By Rumble Man

@_Pick: sad can imply that he needs company, drunk can imply he needs booze and I provide both. Anger can also be solved by meat

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#16  Edited By _Avatar_
@Rumble Man: O_o
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#17  Edited By Rumble Man

@_Pick: Roast ham that is

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#18  Edited By _Avatar_
@Rumble Man: I have enough mammoth meat sandwiches thank you very much :P
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#19  Edited By Rumble Man

@_Pick: what about panini?

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#20  Edited By _Avatar_
@Rumble Man: Bah, if you wanna come in here and help you can, but I'm not gonna pay you xP
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#21  Edited By Rumble Man

@_Pick: I just want to make tunnels

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#22  Edited By _Avatar_
@Rumble Man: Then your free to do so, if you can find the place first.
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#23  Edited By Rumble Man

@_Pick: But first I would like communicate with the dwarven automatons, especially this seer so I can discuss with them a tunnel for the spiders

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#24  Edited By Brynhyld

Confined spaces

The air is stale on the verge of stench if not for the large open spaces, still it is easy to tell one is inside of a mountain. Well inside to the point of under as point of fact, and the feeling connected to that fact leave the Troll-Breaker feeling much like a beast locked inside a cage. She shifts on uneasy nerves as she sits in a thrown of dark walnut grain lumber, fashioned by masterful Dwarven hands. Her auburn hair is tide tightly into fine braids, and clasped with bits of gold and bone, held in place by slim threads of boiled leather. Her skin which is usually glowing with a fresh tan of being kissed to a heavenly bake, is now pale and dull from weeks of living in Twaraslan.

She makes a verbal note of her need to be free, with a grunt. "Fishing." she mutters with her grunt. "Oh the fishing I could be doing right now, back in Asgard... Or on the surface of Midgard... Why oh why am I living in a hole in the meat of the earth... With not but men of different standings, and a crazy old codger for a dwarve?" She puts further voice to her great annoyance. Her thrown is seated at a large wooden feasting table of cherry oak, which is lit by one single torch which is only half wet with oil so now is looking much more like a single candle. In her hand she holds a silver fork with a bit of baked potato resting on its teeth.

She eats her food and drinks her mead, dreaming of freedom from this stone den. The city of Twaraslan is a pinnacle of the Dwarven race, and a beacon of happiness for its people, for an Asgardain warrior woman however, it is rather starting to feel like a prison and fast at that. The hot food and cold drink are lovely, which is gleaming with the pride she has in her lover Fenrir whom is quickly learning his way around a fire pit. He has been cooking her hot meals every night, as he sneaks out during the day for hunting, and Brynhyld helps Clans-Rans with his work, she promised him she would work the mines with him, under the condition that he would bathe himself at least once a week. The digging of dirt and cutting of stone has lead to Brynhyld finding crud in places she would rather not, and has caused herself to even bathe more often than she would normally.

Then it happens as she finds small tears in her deerskin boots. She is able to keep it locked down inside of her but she wants to burst with anger. She takes up her mighty bow and starts to practice her aim and some random targets Fenrir had put up for her around the city, when he woke and left her sleeping this morning. He knew that the stress was starting to unravel her nerves, and even left her a dearly touching note on his pillow.

"My love Bryn...

Going hunting...

Will return later tonight...

Left food for later by the fire...

Set up ten different archery targets all around the city...

Don't kill the dwarf!

Love Fenrir."

Its so sweet how he calls me Bryn for short she thinks to herself as she takes her aim at the first hidden target she was able to spot. If any other were to call her that she would not find it cute, she would have words to say about it, to anyone else she is known as Brynhyld or Troll-Breaker. Her temper is the stuff of legends, and so is her aim with the bow. She fires six shots in the blink of an eye, and they group tightly in the very center of the bullseye of the target which is set up about thee hundred paces out and sixteen feet elevated from her currant location. He was even kind enough to keep it somewhat hidden from the nearest light source so to add to her fun.

"One down... Nine to go."

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@_Pick: would you be opposed to a lord of the rings-ish RP? :)

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#26  Edited By _Avatar_
@mister number 10 man: It depends. Me and some other Asgardians are planning something.
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@_Pick: lol nice! how would that plot go?

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Skjovald walks the old halls of the mountain-hold, caressing the polished gold veins of the architecture around him with a fond nostalgia as he passes the handmade brilliance by. His eyes crawl up from hard stone floor to heavenly vaulted ceiling, scanning every inch of the marvelous domain. For the first time in a century, he cracks a slow smile.

"Home...it's just like home..."