KMC Forums - The Way of the Cloud

Here I'll post some other brief introductory pieces of info though bear in mind that I'll be copying and pasting it from another source so the order or context might feel slightly strange, but it's just to give you a general sense of the game.

Apollo Cloudus

Created by God in the image of -The Father-, Apollo Cloudus and God have what can only be described as a relationship of paradox, where the creator becomes the son and the created the father, both equally responsible for and dependant on the other, both older and younger, both higher and of lower standing. But where the House of the Created is but merely a reflection of the House of the Creator, seperated by a barrier that none have ever been capable of crossing, who is to say which came first and which came last, which stands taller than the other, whether it was in fact the Creator who originally came into existence for the purpose of bringing to life the Created?

In what may be termed as the present, Apollo Cloudus has been tasked with the hunt of -The Enemy-, Syan Elvasef, and he is currently resting in the city of Flombaign after his long travels.

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You may play as only a single race for the time being: The Daer. Created by God in the image of his children, the Daer have been favoured beyond all the other races and some may even say that they have been somewhat spoilt. The Daer are born into human families of wealth, fame, and nobility, and their journey to, at the very least, adolescence, is framed by good fortune. Not a particularly talented race next to the more able humans however, but in them they possess a gift exclusive to their blessed manner of being, and that is the power to be anything, to do anything, to destroy anything, to prevent anything, to create anything - the power of the House of the Creator itself - but only when the moment is right, when the words are right, when the mind is right, when there is truly a will to make things right, and in all the time that the Daer have existed in this world, never has that right ever been fully realised. Will you exist in that time? Will you have the will and the mind to realise that potential? Will you be as the fabled Wordsmiths of the Wilds when all other factors come to pass? Step into this medium of worlds and of disparate selves, close your eyes, and pray that when you open them you'll have left your former lives behind and now stand on the lands that hold the answers to these question.

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The only characteristics that visually distinguishes the Daer from humans is the bone structure of their neck vertebra that constantly angles their face moderately in more of an upwards position than that of a human, seemingly as if their gaze is permanently fixed to the sky. To meet the gaze of another is an unnatural positioning of the body which has instilled in some Daer the sense of others holding them back and being a waste of their time and efforts.

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You have lived your entire life within the confines of the City of Flombaign - The Royal District - and you know little of the outside world aside from vague mentions here and there of such things as the great Shadowed Statues that have slowly been approaching your home for the last few thousands of years, moving as if frozen in time and never moving at all, or of a mysterious Throne atop a tower that has risen out of what the commoners refer to as the Snowy Beach of Dreams, just south of the city limits.

Giant strawberries hang from branches of trees that line the city streets and tower over the city's buildings, blocking out the light of the Sun. Ancient magics have instilled a sense of panick into the shadows that are left in its wake, causing them to dance and flee with the insanity of fire in them, moving with such speed and ferocity that they produce a light of their own that warms the eyes of all that bear witness to them.

Aside from Humans and the rare Daer, the streets are populated by a people known as The Way, a people that live an absurdist life where will and awareness do not run in parallel, where their will is instilled in them from their birth and shapes their every action, but where their awareness begins at will's end and progresses in reverse to it's beginning. When they are born is where their consciousness truly dies. Despite this absurd phenomenom, Humans and Way People all across Flombaign have struck up some of the most heart warming and loyal friendships and relationships, and their coexistence is akin to that between man and machine.

A custom of this great city is as follows: in a man's adolescence, at a certain time, he may be called upon by the king of Flombaign to perform a certain task, and if he succeeds, he is granted his very own Name Day. This Name Day exists to celebrate his great accomplishment, and on this very day every ten years following, all sins are forgiven, all hatred is forgotten, lost friendships renewed, all if only for that very day. This practise is imprinted into the minds of the city's inhabitants from their very birth and revised on a daily basis. This is no mere pretense, this is truly how one feels and reacts to the beneficiary of a Name Day on that very day, no matter what evils he may have commited since, before or after.

It is this very practise that sees the King, Igon Flombaign, reunited with his brother, Igar, who had been imprisoned five years gone for treasonous activities, publicly shamed with all ties to his family, and the people, irreparebly damaged. Yet here he is, on this one very special day, released from his chains, and once again resting within his quarters of the King's Chateau with his wife and children. The King embraces him and they talk and joke together cheerfully and as if they had never feuded in the first place. His wife takes him back into her arms as if he had never been away from her, and his children show no signs that they are even aware of the irregular nature of his presence. Festivities will be later hosted in the city streets, and it is there, that your story will begin, intertwine with those of others, collide, and potentially collapse.