Igrik
Committed
Roleplay posts: 50
Age: Some parts are old, some young....
Physical Description: I change.... Vith partth I am uthing....
Clothes and Equipment: It changes withe partth I am uthing....
(usually a Doctor'a bag, and a metal rod to attract lightning, as well as a few jars of organs, and a single jar with a mutated loaf of bread ready to devour all in sight)
Registered: May 13, 2016 19:43:25 GMT -8
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Post by Igrik on May 28, 2016 14:21:31 GMT -8
Igrik had no use for weapons. The "things" in his suitcase would deal with nearly anyone he came across. He was ready, so he looked at Attla for him to respond.
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Foxko Folding
New
Roleplay posts: 4
Age: Unknowen
Physical Description: -Human Rouge - 6'1 - lean build- Strong arms - Dark features - Green eyes - Face often partially covered -
Clothes and Equipment: Thieves tools - Blade of Rise - Short-bow - Lock Pick - Bag of Holding - Journal - Graphite - Light leather armor -
Registered: May 23, 2016 13:27:12 GMT -8
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Post by Foxko Folding on May 30, 2016 17:47:36 GMT -8
Foxko sat at his hiding spot, a safe distance from the church where he had been directed to wait after his meeting with Lord Volquin earlier. It hadn't take him long to find the church and he had enjoyed the long walk through the sombre forrest along the way.
It wasn't until he had reached the designated meeting spot that he began to feel a little on edge. Foxko was fairly sure this wasn't some elaborate trap to get him here alone but he couldn't help but feel a little vulnerable at the word of the Vampire Lord.
Now that he had spotted the wagon approaching with other adventures he felt a bit more at ease. The undead drawing the cart on the other hand gave him a slight chill. He never could get used to seeing the dead walk, even if they did so on four legs.
He watched the others as they exited the carriage and was impressed at the unique appearance of the bunch. He was also impressed to see Lord Volquin offer his assistance in their descent from the carriage. Clearly he had been wrong about the man.
As Foxko made his way over to the the others he started to feel the ground bellow him begin to rattle, as if the worms themselves were against him being there. This thought came to an end as he stared to watch undead rise from the graves in front of him.
" Well this is all very exciting" he said to nobody in particular.
He waited for the Lord to finish his spell and gawked as the rings were handed out and even more so as Volquin transformed in front of them "This really IS exciting" he now thought to himself
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Malagus
Established
Chief Librarian of the Great Library of Belrow
Roleplay posts: 11
Registered: May 3, 2016 1:55:13 GMT -8
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Post by Malagus on May 30, 2016 22:46:14 GMT -8
Malagus had come riding one of his bronze leafed chariots. Lead by two undead skeletal horse he stood at the back observing the roads. He had discovered claims of a book of the dead in these lands. One that was as of yet not currently in the Great Library of Belrow. This would have to change. He had decided to join a group of living beings currently employed by a Yelrakul, or a Vampire in human tongue. It was a unfortunate, but had to be done. Following the tracks of a carriage he had eventually made it to a unused church like building. Where he arrived just in time to witness the Yelrakul bring back several dead from the grave.
Unfortunate indeed.
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Attla, the Conniving
Committed
life
Roleplay posts: 84
Age: 27
Physical Description: A shrewd and bent over nomad, deprived of food at a young age, giving him malnutrition. His thin bones and muscle weaken him physically. He is just 5 foot 5 inches and has a weak and flimsy gait.
He is usually wearing a form of battered cloak, over black robes that hang loosely across his protruding figure.
His weakness extends to his legs, where he cannot run effectively. Instead, he must hobble at a slow pace, making him simple to outrun.
To most people he would be considered an outcast, a useless fruit of society, living off the work of others in a parasitical one-sided form of symbiosis.
His face is droopy, his eyelids purple, a permenant state caused by his lack of sleep. He is an insomniac and thusly has use magical means to get himself to sleep.
He has beard, congealed with silver and brown hairs, which is spewed haphazardly across his chin, in an ugly show of his unclealiness.
His hair is a mess of dirt and grime. It is hard to gauge of his hair is brown, or it is merely the mud that lumps together inside of it.
His eyes, a brilliant green iris, contrasted by the vicious red tendrils in his eyes, a sign of bleariness and tiredness.
His nose is long and angular, ending at the near hidden, slim mouth stuck in a grimace of pain and anguish.
He near always has a thin cover of sweat across his body, with little pieces of grit mixed in, like a foul soup.
Clothes and Equipment: As mentioned, he has a black, torn and weak robe, covering a small fleece of sheep's wool. Over this robe, a battered and torn black cloak covers him fully. His is connected to his robe by a simple headwrap, creating a black hood to shield himself from the sun with.
He wears large leather boots, worn and old, with obvious mistreatment. No attempt to clean his boots has been made.
He carries a twisted and gnarled ironwood root, as a walking stick and makeshift weapon. He uses it as a way of casting magic, using it to gather energy in the same way a lightning rod would conduct lightning.
Underneath his robe he carries a satchel. In the satchel he keeps a small coin purse, and a small box where he keeps various nefarious equipment, such as lock-picks, needles, small daggers and some throwing darts, all of these stolen or created by him.
Registered: Mar 18, 2016 23:24:09 GMT -8
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Post by Attla, the Conniving on Jun 1, 2016 3:55:05 GMT -8
He stepped out of the carriage, unsure of where they had traveled. The scenery had certainly changed, taking a turn for the worse. He decided not to comment upon it. The morbidity of it all struck fear into his heart, despite him being steeled to such climates beforehand. He disliked such places. It always drove him on edge.
What was he doing with those graves? Necromancy? Seemed as if he were.
He admired the level of necromancy the vampire practised. He counted a good three dozen figures pulling themselves from inside the graves. Only an experienced necromancer could perform such a spell, he reckoned. Querying about such trivialities would waste term, so he decided to not push the topic any further. He turned towards Igrik instead, noticing he had joined him outside of the carriage. His eyes moved down towards Igrik's suitcase. Why would he bring such a container to this place? He believed Igrik not to be a fool. Perhaps it is some cunning guise for something far more sinister. He decided upon the latter.
The plan was interesting, but nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing particularly special expected of him, making his job far easier. Paladin's are simple folk, and considering Attla's living form, would make the majority of their spells ineffective against him. Of course, he didn't aim to provoke any of them in combat. He reasoned he should be able to sneak past them, to some degree. The only obstacle was his allies. If they were not the sneaking sort, his plan would have to change.
As the vampire finished, he gladly accepted the ring. It would come in handy. Perhaps he could keep it afterwards? That would be a valuable asset. He placed it upon his grimy ring finger, on his left hand. Placing it upon his right hand would impede spell-casting. He would wish to avoid that.
"Nothing from me. Shall we begin?", answering the question, even if it was rhetorical.
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Igrik
Committed
Roleplay posts: 50
Age: Some parts are old, some young....
Physical Description: I change.... Vith partth I am uthing....
Clothes and Equipment: It changes withe partth I am uthing....
(usually a Doctor'a bag, and a metal rod to attract lightning, as well as a few jars of organs, and a single jar with a mutated loaf of bread ready to devour all in sight)
Registered: May 13, 2016 19:43:25 GMT -8
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Post by Igrik on Jun 2, 2016 10:15:19 GMT -8
Igor opened the suitcase just a crack, and quickly shut it after further noises came out and.... something lashed at him. He looked a his compatriots and spoke to them.
"Let uth begin."
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Malagus
Established
Chief Librarian of the Great Library of Belrow
Roleplay posts: 11
Registered: May 3, 2016 1:55:13 GMT -8
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Post by Malagus on Jun 4, 2016 20:49:22 GMT -8
Malagus join in with the rest of the party. His disdain for the Vampires raising of the dead would be visible if he had any skin to show a scowl. Volquins further comment on the dead did not help with his opinion of him. The dead are sacred for they have deserved their rest.
He accepted the ring, his dusty hand closing around the strange piece of jewelry, able to feel the magic within it. He listened to the briefing, carefully making notes of the enemies they would be facing. He would have to be careful, these guards seemed to be almost perfectly suited to killing the people like him.
He waited for Volquin to finish to speak up. His dry musty voice slowly making sounds of speech. "If I may say. To scale the...walls would also be extremely... dangerous, leaving us open...to enemy fire. May I suggest...the cave tunnel? At least...if it is a trap...there is only one way...they could attack us from."
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Igrik
Committed
Roleplay posts: 50
Age: Some parts are old, some young....
Physical Description: I change.... Vith partth I am uthing....
Clothes and Equipment: It changes withe partth I am uthing....
(usually a Doctor'a bag, and a metal rod to attract lightning, as well as a few jars of organs, and a single jar with a mutated loaf of bread ready to devour all in sight)
Registered: May 13, 2016 19:43:25 GMT -8
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Post by Igrik on Jun 8, 2016 15:08:25 GMT -8
Igor would look at Malagus and bump Attla with his elbow. "Now that ith what I call thpare partth!"
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Igrik
Committed
Roleplay posts: 50
Age: Some parts are old, some young....
Physical Description: I change.... Vith partth I am uthing....
Clothes and Equipment: It changes withe partth I am uthing....
(usually a Doctor'a bag, and a metal rod to attract lightning, as well as a few jars of organs, and a single jar with a mutated loaf of bread ready to devour all in sight)
Registered: May 13, 2016 19:43:25 GMT -8
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Post by Igrik on Jun 13, 2016 13:20:19 GMT -8
Igor did not wish to open up his luggage yet, so instead he pulled out the handle and held it up so as to swing like a mace. He started to walk forward, but he decided against that. Instead, he got a little skull perched on his shoulder. Within it's eyes would be a little green flame. "Oi, wossit now guv' I jus' 'ad a fine dream where what I had two lady skulls nuzzlin' up to me!" Igor would reply to it. "Shush, or back to the luggage with you it ith...."
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