This place…. It felt like home from driving on the familiar highway bridge that was above the sparkling Atlantic water. The sun was setting behind the skyline of Miami which the city’s lights began twinkling. There were no cars on the road except Jacket driving his Delorean on the right side. Everything around him felt calm and quiet making him felt like he was the only one present in the city. Miami at dusk caught his attention just from how beautiful the sight was. Coruscant didn’t had the same beauty that his home city had. It’s a city that other cities around the world can’t capture the essence of what characterized it. That will be one thing that Jacket missed about his old life.
 
Night transforms the dusk sky with stars and the moon that looked down upon Miami. The prime placed his focus back on the road in front of him after admiring the skyline. A sigh comes out of his mouth from a feeling deep down in him that he realized he has lived with for a while.
 
Loneliness
 
All his friends are dead. He doesn’t have anyone in his life now. How long he’s been a part of this emotion was a long time. No one will even notice that he disappeared and was brought into this Omniverse.
 
Maybe after all this home was a….
 
Lonesome town.
 
While Jacket was contemplating his life, the highway suddenly transformed into his old apartment and he was no longer in the car but sitting on a couch in the living room. His old telephone sat on a stand next to where Jacket was at. The old apartment was rotting away and looked abandoned even still having the outlines of a body in front of Jacket that was from the police investigation. Those lines were where Jacket laid at and nearly died from being shot by Richter. Rats were present in this home as one of them scurried across the floor.
 
As Jacket looked back up in front of him, he seen the people that were part of his life. The spec ops squad mates, his bearded friend, and the hooker he saved. They stand before him but after blinking, the people disappeared into thin air. Where they stood at, big red bloody letters were painted on the wall and dripping.
 
YOUR FAULT

This gave Jacket chills down his spine and had an uneasy look on his face. The sight terrified the lonely soul and made him get up to find a place out of here. His apartment’s entrance door didn’t exist where it was at. A wall replaced the location of the door and this made Jacket terrified. He doesn’t want to be stuck in this nightmare. The prime began to run around in his old apartment looking for a way out. Unfortunately, there was no way out of this place. Suddenly, his home phone started to ring. This got his attention and rushed to pick up the phone.
 
Jacket picked up the phone in a fast pace manner. Sweat was coming down his forehead from the situation.
 
“You’re a freak and a failure you know that!” explained the caller in an angry male voice.
 
Screaming in frustration came from Jacket and ripped the message machine out of the outlet and throws it across the room angrily. He ran over to the thrown electronic and began stomping on it violently. After five minutes of breaking the message machine into pieces, he took his foot off the mess and started to breath heavily after using his all of his lower strength to crush it. He looks back at the kitchen seeing more undead Russian gangsters staring at him. They filled up half of the room and still said nothing to Jacket. From the sight, Jacket sprinted to the bathroom then he shut the door before the group could lay hands on him. The door was locked by Jacket which pounding and curse words can be heard on the other side of the door from the mobsters.
 
He tried to ignore them and headed for the sink. It had a mirror above, reflecting his appearance. There were some cracks and some dark smudges on the mirror but Jacket can still see the reflection of himself. For the rest of the bathroom, it still looked nasty along with the apartment. There were outlines where the dead hooker’s corpse laid at which was in the middle of the room. Dried blood stains on the tile floor filled the outline area even outside of it. Jacket twists the warm water nob from the sink and water began to spew out.
 
His hands are cupped to gather the water that was pouring down. After getting enough, he splashed the water on his face trying to wake up from this nightmare. This only happened for half of a minute. When Jacket was done, he turned off the water and attempted to remain calm what is happening to him. Suddenly, he looked up at the mirror and noticed that he was wearing the rooster mask even parts of his body including his mask was covered in blood.
 
Jacket backed away from the mirror and examined his bloodied hands. Heavy thumps were heard at the door sounding like they are trying to break in. He couldn’t find anything to defend himself in the bathroom. The prime had no choice to only stand there and embrace the situation.
After one more thump, the wooden door breaks open but there was complete darkness on the other side of the doorway. Could this be a possible exit of this nightmare? He didn’t want to wait any longer to find another way out. The masked prime stepped through the doorway and entered the darkness.

Several hours had passed since his departure from the clustering place of his arrival. Though he had been entirely loath to let the vampire escape alive, the point of the situation had been drilled home all too clearly. He was forced to admit it, as poor a taste as it left in his mouth to do so. There was every chance this was beyond his reckoning, some force at work here beyond his understanding. Some rule at play that would call to an authority that would supercede that which her served. How such a thing could be, how any force could ever claim with certainty and truth that they held a greater ruling than the Almighty, was beyond him.

...then, how he could be here at all, seemingly alive and well, after he had all too clearly died for good in his struggle against the monster who had rejected God was also beyond him.

It was not a crisis of understanding that would break him. No, his convictions were far too strong for that. He would leave the actions of dispensing holy vengeance and justice aside, for now. He would turn his mind instead to understanding. Sink deep into the rivers of thought, and drown in his efforts to come to the truth, or successfully navigate the turbulent rapids and reach a conclusion. Take the truth of the matter in hand, and discover the reasoning for his presence here. There could be no doubt, in some fashion, that this was His will; the LORD had a purpose for him here.

It only waited for him to stumble across it.

And stumble, he did, though not across purpose. Over empty air, shimmering with color and distortion, shifting and wavering scenery and air. White gave way to a swirling cacophony of rainbow hues. Sparks and swirls of meaningless color assaulted his vision. A sudden shifting in the feel of the air and sound of the world assailed his skin and hearing. He pitched forward, staggering like a drunkard. His grace was broken, his balance thrown off.

The swirl of offending sensation broke in only a moment.

The chaotic mess of colors gave way to a gentle green, grasses rolling and swaying. The air overhead settled into a pattern, a gentle breeze ruffling his sunny blonde hair, still matted with dust and ash from his arrival. The non-scent of the white void was replaced with an overwhelming, in comparison, smell of earth and stone, grass and trees, and the distant, pungent tinge of smoke on the wind.

I'd like to request judgement on whether Illidan has done enough to earn Recognition in the Pale Moors.

My case is as follows:
- Illidan travelled to the Pale Moors eight months ago. He started hunting a necromancer, eventually finding two prisoners and killing the necromancer. However instead of saving them, he killed them in order to curry favour with Dracula, in order to one day long in the future, undermine him from within.
- Illidan then travelled to Dracula's castle and became the first Prime to be bitten willingly and brought into the dark lord's forces.
- Afterwards, after subjugating an armed force from another of Dracula's officers, Illidan lay siege to the haunted Poenari Castle, enduring endless visions of the dead there before convincing the necromancer with his silver tongue to ally with him. The necromancer agreed and Illidan gained a spectral army.
- Illidan put the call out to all and sundry to join his campaign to destroy Darkshire. He had a number of Primes answer, and he assigned them roles for the forthcoming attack.
- Illidan then sallied forth with his army of monsters and ghosts, attacking Darkshire in what I believe is the first unprovoked assault on an original town/city/establishment in the Omniverse's history.
- Through determination and immense luck, Illidan singlehandedly defeated two Primes that guarded Darkshire from the assault.

If this is not enough to gain Recognition, please let me know what more I need to do. I am keen on making Poenari Castle Illidan's official base (once I buy a base) and I was told I needed to have Recognition before this would be permitted.

Thanks for considering.

Stormtrooper Captain Desh entered the hospital room occupied by the squadron he’d recently assigned to one of the verse’s less desirable primes. His eyes immediately locked onto the bed and the man sitting in it. Knox seemed comfortable enough, but his arm was in a giant cast that seemed impractical and unwieldy. Desh knew from experience that it was designed to hold Bacta directly on a wound. A pain to move in, but it wasn’t a long-term thing. That was the magic of Bacta, after all.

Knox looked up at the entering captain, as did his three compatriots Cade, Grace, and Laci, who were seated in various places about the room. Desh took note that no one stood to salute him, shake his hand, or so much as greet him in any way. Instead the conversation merely trailed off as they observed his arrival. An officer of lesser experience and ego might have demanded that respect be shown, but Desh was wise enough to read the attitude of the room.

 “How’s the arm?” Desh asked as soon as he was noticed, speaking out of genuine concern.

“They already fixed me up,” Knox responded, gesturing to the cast. “It’s getting better.”

“Glad to hear it,” Desh nodded his head, before looking amongst the others. “Everyone else alright?”

“I lost a hundred dollar watch down there,” Cade remarked, forcing himself to smile. “Also, my back hurts.”

“Yea, I’m sure,” Desh chuckled. “Good to see it wasn’t worse.”

“Yea, but captain, what the hell?” Laci said, finally asking the burning question. “That dude is going to get us killed.”

“Zedd’s a little unorthodox, but he gets results,” Desh responded. “You all have seen it twice, now.”

“Sure, but one thing he’s right about is needing a squadron of badasses, not grunts like us,” Cade jumped into the conversation. “We didn’t have a clue what we were doing down there.”

Grace looked between everyone, silently. As the least experienced member of their little band, she didn’t quite feel confident enough to join the others in going after their supervisor’s supervisor. Instead, she just nodded her head in agreement.

“Trust me, the good work you’ve all done hasn’t gone unnoticed,” Desh said to counter the growing outrage. “We’ll be rewarding you.”

“By taking us out of Zedd’s command?” Laci asked.

“Not quite,” Desh shook his head.

“How about Specific Skills school?” Knox joined in pressing the captain.

“It’s not that easy to get people into those,” Desh once more shot them down. “And you’ve got a lot more to do before they’ll let me enroll you in something like that.”

“Doesn’t sound like we’re getting a damn thing, then,” Knox remarked with an extra loud scoff.

“Easy, soldier,” Desh resumed an authoritative tone for his warning. “You got banged up, but you’ll be a hundred percent before much longer. Not everyone’s that lucky.”

Knox rolled his eyes. He didn’t apologize, but he didn’t press the issue. Cade and Laci did not offer any smart remarks, either. Grace bit her lip, unsure of what to say. She felt the same as the other three and wanted to join in, but the time for that was certainly past. Desh didn’t push the conversation any further. These four weren’t the type of blindly loyal troopers that wouldn’t question their orders. They were going to be naturally insubordinate, but that didn’t have to be a bad thing. The Empire utilized all types of personalities in all types of roles. Desh just needed to figure out what role was good for them. Again, something an officer of a lesser mind would miss.

“You’ll be happy to know that you’re temporarily reassigned from Zedd,” Desh said after the silence had become just piercing enough. That statement alone seemed to lift the mood of the room.

“So, he’s getting his super troopers, after all?” Cade questioned, sounding a bit amused.

“Actually, we’re putting him on ice for a little bit,” Desh remarked. “His job is to lay low and learn a little more about the Omniverse. A little time to himself will do him good.”

Laci and Grace exchanged bewildered looks. Cade scratched his head, and Knox was the one who announced what all four of them were thinking. “You know he’s going to get pretty deep into some real shit, right?”

Desh contemplated that for a brief second before deciding he’d better tell the secondaries the whole story. “Yea. And that way we’ll know exactly what we can expect from him when he’s left unsupervised.”

Cade laughed aloud and buried his face in his hands. Good God, Desh had no idea what he was getting his people into by ordering them to play catchup to Zedd’s antics. At least it wasn’t their problem.

“And us?” Laci dared to wonder aloud.

“Take a few days off, get rested and recovered,” Desh instructed them. “When you’re ready to go, I’ve got a new assignment for just the four of you. Until then, I need to get everything ready anyway. Sound good?”

The four murmured and nodded. Nothing about Imperial work really sounded ‘good’ to them, but at least they were free of Zedd for the time being. It was something to be enjoyed while it lasted.

“Good. See you in a few days,” Desh said as he began to exit the room. “And you can show up in something a little more casual. You won’t need the armor for this one.”

As the captain left, the Stormtroopers looked between themselves while pondering those instructions. Their internal thoughts didn’t last long, since without the brass present, they could resume talking shit about the hierarchy.

As Kal'roc exited the portal; He saw fields and the occasional dragon, and many beasts. He saw many trees and plants of different heights and thicknesses.  As this was unreal to him, a place that was home to him, beheadings and all. The draconian looked at the roman style roads. "A good design there" He jumped off the drake and started to fix the wing due to Omnilium being used, The drake started to screech in pain. "Hold still, or it wont get better.' He set the bone back into place causing the drake to whimper in pain. 'Oh your stronger than this, almost done crono." After what seemed to be a half hour he finished fixing the wing, best he could. "now don't fly, or the wing will break again. I don't need my mount that is suppose to fly become a kamikaze again."

The commander began to walk with the Ice Drake in tow, He came across a sign post and took a good long look at it. It was a oak base with stone signs. He took a look at each one, noting the distances and the condition each one was in. Most of them were basically worn out, except for Minas Tirith. He looked at the direction it was showing, and then almost comically looked out into the distance; and back at the sign. "Well I guess that is where we are going."

He walked up to the Drake and climbed on; It gave him a look of distaste with having to move. Kal'roc gave a sigh as he remembered his life and how it was torn from him; He was not mad at Omni mind you but his close friends were gone, and just bringing them back would not be any better. He got the drake to move to the destination of Minas Tirith. He looked and saw that Serraph had not joined him surprisingly, he actually liked his company. "oh well such is life."

Quote: time and place switch to the outskirts of Minas Tirith 

Quote: Time and area skip to a field nearby the prison, the time is around dusk 

Quote: One of the men quest started
Microsoft word says it's 954 words atm 

The early morning, artificial sunlight (something that was still a puzzle as to how that worked, exactly) filtered in through the window, barely managing to find a way to make themselves known through the shuttered blinds. Thin ribbons of amber poked through, falling over the floor under the window, across the bedside table, the (very messily-made) bed, and the small, blue creature sprawled haphazardly across it.

Despite having been back ‘home’ for quite a while now — all through the night, and a touch of the previous afternoon — after finishing her last assignment and parting company with her partners, she was still covered in dust, grime, and scorch marks from the rough and tumble events she had been wrapped up in. Thankfully, her unkempt appearance was the worst of it. Mercifully, she had gotten through the entire ordeal without much in the way of lasting injuries. A few scrapes, and a few walls with a little blue alien-shaped dent in them, a few blaster shots, but nothing that was any worse than what she’d already been put through in the past.

Despite that, it was all quite tiring, once the thrill and adrenaline had worn off. She had been a little out of it and had trouble making an accurate report when she went back to the EPD office where she had first gotten the assignment. Her boundless energy had lasted right up until they were returning to the upper tiers and she parted ways with Zedd while he went off to make sure his stormtrooper friend was alright after getting injured down below. And with the lack of energy came a profound feeling of just being tired. And with that pervasive feeling came the stern reminder: ‘You’ve been shot, kicked, punched, crushed, smacked into walls, electrocuted, and horribly abused and knocked around by aliens. That generally hurts.’

And once that thought clicked in her mind, she realized something: it did hurt. A lot.

It was lucky that she was used to fighting through a lot worse, so she could manage just fine. But wow, it was pretty telling that even something like the whole mess with the Vorticons down below could leave her so beat up. Back home, she wouldn’t even have broken a sweat about something like that! Though...that wasn’t saying much. Back home, she was pretty sure she could have just blown the whole Vortilaser and all the Vorticons away with one shot.

….and she was pretty sure she couldn’t sweat anyway, so couldn’t break one anyway. Whatever that meant. She’d just heard it around.

But now, here she was. Laying in bed, eyes only half-open as she stared blankly at the opposite wall. She didn’t really need sleep, so had spent the night more or less just sort of...there. Resting and letting the lingering aches and unpleasant pain from the scuffle ebb away. By the time the morning ‘sun’ jabbed at her night-sensitive eyes and forced her to blink and roll aside with a whine to shade her eyes from the glare, she was more or less all healed and pain free. A little stiff, from twelve or so hours of just lying just about completely still, and still covered in dust and grit, but injury and pain free.

Awkwardly she rolled over, first onto one side, then onto her back, to get out of the sunlight. Unfortunately, she overestimated how much more bed she had to roll over on, and ended up tumbling off the side with a surprised yelp. A rapid windmilling of arms, a rustling and flailing of dislodged sheets in a frantic effort to find purchase on something, and then gravity won out. There was a solid thunk and a dull “Oooow….” that followed shortly after. Bright pink (or maybe dull red, depending on who you asked) cracked open again, staring across the room toward the doorway of the bedroom, from the awkward vantage point of resting upside down, head-first on the floor.

“I miss flying…” she whined, as the sheet slowly drifted down and settled on her face.

Quote:I'm always trying to think of ways to keep stuff fresh, whether it was larger NPC profiles, faction quests, or the general shift to more diversified quest types and quest rewards. Another thing I've always wanted to do (you can ask anyone who has been a UotM) is create some sort of centralized 'How To'. As I try to get that going, I'm going to put my focus on the in-character world and crafting what, I believe, will eventually become a supplemental guide or FAQ for each of our verses, listing common questions or facts that might not be relevant and/or might clog down existing Info Threads.

Now, since the whole point is to base this in questions/concerns from the community, I want to open this up so I can get input from people. I don't want to do a thread back and forth, because that's boring and time-consuming. Instead, what we'll do is, I'll be available for X amount of time in Discord. It'll be a text chat (so I have notes/a record), but pretty much, it'll take the form of a Q&A about the verse, its leadership, its outerlying settlements, etc. From that, staff and I will work on a template for what is something that can hopefully be extended to all the verses.

Had a traveler wandering the Pale Moors ventured off the path leading towards Darkshire and Hogwarts, and had that traveler approached the muddy river that carried its waters parallel to the path for a little distance, and had that traveler in the process passed the overhang created by an old tree's hardened roots and a handful of rocks, they would have seen Iza. Most would have mistaken her for a pile of discarded black rags, only those who tried to grab them would have noticed that there was someone amongst them. But in the Pale Moors few dared to travel and fewer were as foolish as to try drinking from the putrid waters, even if they were dying of thirst.

Iza clung to what little she had that made her feel "alive"... sleeping, eating, breathing and moving around. All those were things that she no longer needed to do. It was part of the curse of undeath that had been placed upon her. She knew not how or why, and she feared the truth. Something deep within told her that she was asking questions whose answers she would not want to hear. It told her that she should move on.

Her dreamless sleep was instead plagued by questions that repeated themselves over and over and tormented her to no end.

Who am I?
Why am I undead?
Why can I not die like other Undead?
Who do the memories belong to that I have? Were they mine?

Already she had attempted to end her suffering, to rather be dead than to live in a world where none accepted her. But as the being who called himself Omni had told her... so long as she interested him, she would be reborn. Reborn as a Lich once again. She was different from the undead that wandered this land. They were lifeless husks, animated with dark magic. And they did not come back once killed. After two attempts she had given up.

And now? Now she was in the Pale Moors, aimlessly wandering in search of the veritable needle in a haystack. A cavern whose entrance she remembered in flashes, as she did for all the memories that dated back to before her... her rebirth. She had a lingering feeling that there would be answers in there. She knew that she would not like them. They were the only lead that she had though, so she had little choice.

Every exhalation spreaded the crust of ice on the ground before her a little, reminding her that, no matter how she shifted her body to look human, beneath the skin she was still a monster. There was no way to escape it... not as far as she knew. There was no cure, no counter-curse, no remedy, unless she could find one. That hope, the hope to find a solution to her issue, to find a way out of the torment of her existence as an inhuman abomination, was the thread that she clung to. Whether it was to make herself alive again or to die for good was another question.

As Betty walked with her group to the graduation, of the EPD's Soul project. Betty with the help of Akumu had become top of her class. John another kid that was five feet tall and for some reason wore a cowboy outfit with a gun of magic. "Hey John." Betty waved to her friend as he waved back and they started to talk about assignments. "Did you hear? Chara is in Coruscant? Apparently she is harboring criminals and monsters in the pale moors.

Betty gave a pretty good fake face of surprise, she had always been a good liar. "Oh I did not know that? I think I will do the Omniverse a favor, and take her into custody." Betty after getting her stormtrooper armor headed off to the library.

As Betty headed to the library to take out any information on Chara, She heard Storm troopers in her head piece being called to the crono monument, due to A Prime stabbing them selves. Betty nodded and motioned to Akumu to do reconnaissance. Akumu nodded and started to float off to the monument.

Betty had taken all of the liberty's of having higher clearance to look for Chara dreemur, but except for a few messages, a story, and the crime file she has. Betty sighed as the things she could use as actual reasons to take Chara into custody, were slim and not good reasons. "She isn't a rebel, she doesn't smuggle items, she killed a trooper and assaulted another, that's it?" She felt like yelling, but a investigator came in and handed her a tape. "You might need this, don't say I never gave you anything to help." He patted her shoulder and headed out.

"What is in this Tape?' She uploaded the tape to her tablet, and watched a girl in a green sweater stab themself in the arm, before yelling as they pulled out the knife wiping it off on her fingers and put in back before testing her hand. "Tsk, still works sadly." Chara had given a brief glimpse of her face before the tape ended.

Betty smilled as she finally had a reason. Insanity charges would work, for there purposes. "Now time to hunt the demon down." Betty chuckled as she walked out of the library, summoning her scythe. "It's time to reap the souls."

Quote:This is a fragment of Kelly's pre-Omniverse history: events that took place in one of the many realities he's visited previously, now recalled during unconsciousness. As such, it has some of the qualities of a dream, and is without context in many ways - during the course of these events he knew many things which he does not now recall.