Reserved
An organisation/club/school, focussed on all things flight - of both mann and beast.
Perched above the semi arid desert town of Ichralárch (https://discord.gg/sPFZzpJ) in the central semi arid desert and with an amazing view of it’s oasis and endless horizons, the guild hall HQ has a commanding view of the town! it’s rich oasis and the endless desert horizons.
It will be worth coming just for that! But I also hope to give players a reason to make a trek into the deserts of Lor Voskara to experience what could be the ultimate flying location on OCE.
Thanks to it’s high mesas, uplifting thermals and lack of obstacles to hit, each death will surely be a beautiful death of learning. Plus your friends will get to watch!
Join...not just to learn the secrets of birds and Mann and to earn your Wings, but to cavort and collaborate with friends at the clubhouse bar with the best views in the Kingdom!
Three branches of membership and training may be possible.
AirMann
* Glider construction, research and development (associated sales, delivery and service should also be possible)
* Flight & Fight: Learn to fly that thing for war or recreation
BirdMann
* Bird lovers come together to learn about the specific breeding, care and training requirements for their preferred bird, from the simple and fun to the advanced and deadly*
- Train your song birds to sing better, talk and if possible, interpret languages
- The history, lifecycle and dangers of your Phoenix
- Ravens - Spy and Deliver
- Owlery, Falconry and Eaglery - Kill to Eat, Kill to Win, Kill for Fun
(There are rumours of advanced courses that may require certain religious affiliations , exorbitant fees or other information as pre-payment)
FlyFisherMann
* With the abundance of water and fish in sunny Ichralárch it would be a waste to not have some way to learn the art of fishing, fly or otherwise*
- Rod and hook making
- The Subtle Art of Explosives: Fishing for the Impatient
No restrictions.
Members will be free to establish branches in their chosen location if the sunny desert climes are too dry for your lungs 😉
This post is mainly to put it out there and see what interest there is. There’s no discord or formal structure yet but there could be. DM here or in my town discord if you like.
https://discord.gg/sPFZzpJ
And how did this all come to be? Read on...
When the returning caravaners brought the first glider to Ichralárch from their shrublands run, none of us knew what it even was. The merchant apparently won it at the Last Oasis gaming tables, though we later heard a story that someone first found it strapped to a Kypiq found smashed and broken at the back of the establishment.
Once unpacked and unfolded (and after we cleaned the blood off), we thought the wings were merely an elaborate festival costume, worn by a devil-child too far from home and subsequently killed for it.
It sat packed up and forgotten in the caravaners hold for a long while, gathering dust as the hot dry seasons turned cold and back again. But over time, more and more traders and travellers told the same incredible stories, of Kypiq raiders flying across the narrow strait between Kilijan and Akatash and attacking, or at the very least, trying to land on top of the Last Oasis.
As more sets of wings slowly made their way to Ichralárch, it eventually dawned on us that they may be more than just costume.
So it was that a few of us trekked them up to the top of great mesa. It was early morning and windy. We unpacked them and took turns trying them on, adjusting the fit, studying them. We were surprised at how even a small gust of wind caught them and tried to pull them away from us. No one had yet considered approaching the cliff edge to see if they could fly.
When I looked out to the hazy distance, I saw the beauty of the open desert, the line of mesas disappearing to the northwest, the sparse and twisted trees dotting the land, the abundant oasis alongside town of Ichralárch below. The beauty of it all took me yet again and I knelt down to pray my love and thanks to Her.
In Her listening and hearing, She responded Tom me in Her own way...with Her breath.
The strong wind came from nowhere and hit us hard. It caught the wings strapped to my two brothers and hurled them like motes of dust across the stony ground towards the cliffs edge, ripping their skin and flesh as they tumbled towards then over the edge. And down. In helpless horror we ran screaming to the precipice but they were gone. What fools We are!
No one could believe it when we saw the white spans heading out and away from the cliff, barely in control, twisting then plummeting then steadying. Their course was being traced by few falcons that had been disturbed from their cliff-side nests.
The broken bodies of the Menn were recovered six kilometres from the mesa and given sky burials of the most honoured.
The gliders were repaired. Flight Club was born.
The first rule of Flight Club? Be careful what you prey for.
