Nat'ia
Committed
Stealin' valuables
Roleplay posts: 50 
Age: 22 Years
Physical Description: Mostly Reptilian features yet somewhat Avian
5' tall, bipedal legs
Strange marking on left shoulder
Clothes and Equipment: Discolored light leather armor
A beat up Wooden buckler
Javelins, 4 total
Balanced Machete with some wear and tear along the blade.
Player's online availability : Eh
Registered: Oct 6, 2015 16:42:15 GMT -8
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Post by Nat'ia on Sept 26, 2016 8:33:10 GMT -8
For now it is small, a simple makeshift small camp for about 50 kiggy bandits with a single watchtower which is only a few meters high, and poorly constructed from crude logs and branches. The center of the camp is a grand bonfire, a meeting point. The outside is patrolled regularly, only unguarded when shifts change or after a successful raid, when the guards are wasted or sleeping.
The perimeter has spiked logs pointed outwards, to prevent any sort of calvary charge. Every area after the spikes' tips are covered with antimagic totems spread around, making use of magics or enchantments useless once advancing past the barrier. However, the totems could be destroyed to regain the mana for casting in that immediate area.
The camp contain little to no things of much value as of now, if they were met with a significantly larger and stronger force they'd simply retreat immediately, leaving their little tents and bland fortifications behind.
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Nat'ia
Committed
Stealin' valuables
Roleplay posts: 50
Age: 22 Years
Physical Description: Mostly Reptilian features yet somewhat Avian
5' tall, bipedal legs
Strange marking on left shoulder
Clothes and Equipment: Discolored light leather armor
A beat up Wooden buckler
Javelins, 4 total
Balanced Machete with some wear and tear along the blade.
Player's online availability : Eh
Registered: Oct 6, 2015 16:42:15 GMT -8
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Post by Nat'ia on Oct 4, 2016 17:05:29 GMT -8
The party of 30 whom had briefly raided Aozora's market had returned, with very little to show for it. They'd been met with a rapid responding group of guards, and had to leave early to avoid casualties. After they left, scouts quickly reported that a wall was under construction and was nearly finished! They'd have to find a new way in, whether that be by destroying the wall, or by scaling it. Nat'ia would issue the hasteful construction of a single catapult, for use against the new wall. It was poorly fashioned from raw materials and leftover goods from the area. It would work, just not very well... |
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Osma Gaiman
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 193
Age: 22
Physical Description: Physical Description:
Osma has fair skin, since she never had to toil outdoors. Her brown hair is so dark it is almost black and rests in long waves down to her waist. Her eyebrows are thick, since plucking them hasn't been invented yet. Her lips are full. Her brown eyes common.
She wasn't hit with the ugly stick when she was born, if one doesn't take into account an ugly personality.
Clothes and Equipment: Clothes and Equipment
A few dresses of good quality, made for warmth. Animal furs and lots of Stag horns on everything. Its a symbol of the noble house she is from.
Plant powders and the like hidden in "poison rings" and necklaces. Etc.
Knife and other tools used to harvest plants and birth babies.
Registered: Sept 17, 2016 8:24:18 GMT -8
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Post by Osma Gaiman on Oct 24, 2016 12:57:14 GMT -8
Osma was beyond nause by the time they arrived at the camp. She had long since shut her eyes to help ease the swaying-sickness she endured while behind hog-tied to a long stick and carried several miles.
Her long, now muddle caked and stick heavy hair dragged the ground, along with the hem of her torn and frayed chemise.
She had complained at great length throughout the journey, which only came out as "MMmmmhuummmm Dummmbhmmm" from across the rope they used to gag her. Oh! The corners of her mouth would be sore! Her perfect, plump, pink lips cracked and scared!
She was has mad as she had ever been. For someone who flew off the handle when her teacup didn't match her dress, that was saying a lot. d
"You will pay for this!" She tried to say, but it came out as "Hmmmmffffummmm Dummmmmfff." Just as she said the words, they unceremoniously dropped her on the ground and dropped the wooden pole they dangled her from. It landed harshly against her collar bone and pelvis.
For once she was quite as the feeling like she was going to pass out came over her.
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Nat'ia
Committed
Stealin' valuables
Roleplay posts: 50
Age: 22 Years
Physical Description: Mostly Reptilian features yet somewhat Avian
5' tall, bipedal legs
Strange marking on left shoulder
Clothes and Equipment: Discolored light leather armor
A beat up Wooden buckler
Javelins, 4 total
Balanced Machete with some wear and tear along the blade.
Player's online availability : Eh
Registered: Oct 6, 2015 16:42:15 GMT -8
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Post by Nat'ia on Oct 24, 2016 19:39:10 GMT -8
Osma was beyond nause by the time they arrived at the camp. She had long since shut her eyes to help ease the swaying-sickness she endured while behind hog-tied to a long stick and carried several miles. Her long, now muddle caked and stick heavy hair dragged the ground, along with the hem of her torn and frayed chemise. She had complained at great length throughout the journey, which only came out as "MMmmmhuummmm Dummmbhmmm" from across the rope they used to gag her. Oh! The corners of her mouth would be sore! Her perfect, plump, pink lips cracked and scared! She was has mad as she had ever been. For someone who flew off the handle when her teacup didn't match her dress, that was saying a lot. d "You will pay for this!" She tried to say, but it came out as "Hmmmmffffummmm Dummmmmfff." Just as she said the words, they unceremoniously dropped her on the ground and dropped the wooden pole they dangled her from. It landed harshly against her collar bone and pelvis. For once she was quite as the feeling like she was going to pass out came over her. Unfortunately for Nat'ia's troops, the ranting woman was torture to their ears, complaining, ranting, insulting. Man, now they really wished they could eat her. She was dropped near the center entrance, still behind their fortifications. Even from here, there was a terrible stench of meat and mud present and it did not appear to phase the Kiggies or gnolls. The stick she was tied with would be planted in the dirt upright, as so her hands were above her head. She'd be planted to be sitting on her rump, looking inwards at the camp. An annoyed kiggy untied her feet, but left her gagged since she proven to be super noisy during the trip. She was watched by a few strolling gnolls, as the rest in the camp went along and tended to themselves. Eventually a gnoll with a bucket of muddy water snuck up behind her and dumped it all over her figure. He snickered at the now wet "noble." |
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Osma Gaiman
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 193
Age: 22
Physical Description: Physical Description:
Osma has fair skin, since she never had to toil outdoors. Her brown hair is so dark it is almost black and rests in long waves down to her waist. Her eyebrows are thick, since plucking them hasn't been invented yet. Her lips are full. Her brown eyes common.
She wasn't hit with the ugly stick when she was born, if one doesn't take into account an ugly personality.
Clothes and Equipment: Clothes and Equipment
A few dresses of good quality, made for warmth. Animal furs and lots of Stag horns on everything. Its a symbol of the noble house she is from.
Plant powders and the like hidden in "poison rings" and necklaces. Etc.
Knife and other tools used to harvest plants and birth babies.
Registered: Sept 17, 2016 8:24:18 GMT -8
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Post by Osma Gaiman on Oct 28, 2016 10:32:52 GMT -8
Brown. Everything about the camp was brown. From the mud she sat to the water that now dripped down her nose and off her brown hair. She shivered like a wet puppy and ignored the snickers thrown her way as water drenched through her chemise.
Well, if that's who you're going to be.
Osma remained in a pouty silence as if depriving them of her voice was punishment. Every now and again, she would sigh rather loudly or shift her weight as her butt began to go numb. She did not think about how cold she would be come night fall. What she did think about was how horridly unjust they were being and how awful it was to be the captive of such uncouth, uncivilized assailants. Really, was it so hard for kidnappers to over a cushion or some wine?
It was terribly boring for the twenty minutes Osma managed to punish them.
"Well, if I am going to be here I might as well be of some use off the dinner menu . I could at least find you some herbs to improve the taste of that..." DEAR GOD WHAT WERE THEY EATTING? "Or at the very least I could help you all improve your appearance. It is so hard to tell the males from the females. Some red dye made from some berries and the ladies could have some fancy blood stained claws. Mmmmm?" Osma shimmied her shoulders. "Give one the grim look for weeks."
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Nat'ia
Committed
Stealin' valuables
Roleplay posts: 50
Age: 22 Years
Physical Description: Mostly Reptilian features yet somewhat Avian
5' tall, bipedal legs
Strange marking on left shoulder
Clothes and Equipment: Discolored light leather armor
A beat up Wooden buckler
Javelins, 4 total
Balanced Machete with some wear and tear along the blade.
Player's online availability : Eh
Registered: Oct 6, 2015 16:42:15 GMT -8
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Post by Nat'ia on Nov 1, 2016 18:04:51 GMT -8
Brown. Everything about the camp was brown. From the mud she sat to the water that now dripped down her nose and off her brown hair. She shivered like a wet puppy and ignored the snickers thrown her way as water drenched through her chemise. Well, if that's who you're going to be. Osma remained in a pouty silence as if depriving them of her voice was punishment. Every now and again, she would sigh rather loudly or shift her weight as her butt began to go numb. She did not think about how cold she would be come night fall. What she did think about was how horridly unjust they were being and how awful it was to be the captive of such uncouth, uncivilized assailants. Really, was it so hard for kidnappers to over a cushion or some wine? It was terribly boring for the twenty minutes Osma managed to punish them. "Well, if I am going to be here I might as well be of some use off the dinner menu . I could at least find you some herbs to improve the taste of that..." DEAR GOD WHAT WERE THEY EATTING? "Or at the very least I could help you all improve your appearance. It is so hard to tell the males from the females. Some red dye made from some berries and the ladies could have some fancy blood stained claws. Mmmmm?" Osma shimmied her shoulders. "Give one the grim look for weeks." Ultimately all but Osma Gaiman 's hand bondages were cut loose as to not damage, what the raiders said as, "the goods," any further. But thank the great Hunting Legion! The woman was silent, they could finally calm down, make love with eachother, and relax for those seemingly long twenty minutes. It was greatly relaxing for the twenty minutes she had shut her trap. But she started talking again, oh boy. A disgruntled kiggy lobbed a loaf of... stale bread? Or maybe it was a squishy rock, at least it looked somewhat edible. The rock bread landed in her lap, easily for her to reach and eat it if she had her hands free. Her food supplies apparently didn't see this as a problem however, she could find a way to eat it without hands if she was smart enough. "Now hushy." The kiggy stated as he trudged away. Though her talking of fancying up the ladies of the group caught their attention, but none of them said anything. Even Nat'ia herself was a bit interested.... |
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Osma Gaiman
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 193
Age: 22
Physical Description: Physical Description:
Osma has fair skin, since she never had to toil outdoors. Her brown hair is so dark it is almost black and rests in long waves down to her waist. Her eyebrows are thick, since plucking them hasn't been invented yet. Her lips are full. Her brown eyes common.
She wasn't hit with the ugly stick when she was born, if one doesn't take into account an ugly personality.
Clothes and Equipment: Clothes and Equipment
A few dresses of good quality, made for warmth. Animal furs and lots of Stag horns on everything. Its a symbol of the noble house she is from.
Plant powders and the like hidden in "poison rings" and necklaces. Etc.
Knife and other tools used to harvest plants and birth babies.
Registered: Sept 17, 2016 8:24:18 GMT -8
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Post by Osma Gaiman on Nov 2, 2016 5:34:02 GMT -8
Osma grunted as the rock bread hit her squarely in the chest. One breast felt like it had pushed inside her torso still ached even has the bread rested between her knees. "Ha,ha! I caught it!"
What was it?
Her nose wringled as she eyeballed the rough grains. Was this bread or a giant hardened.....terd!
She gasped and opened her knees. The bread feel to the soggy ground beneath her.
That was not funny. At least not to her. After a breif pause to allow these CHILDREN to stop chuckling, she continued her offer of help.
She could feel their interest. "For instance, ladies..." The term was applied losely to a bright scaled creature she hoped was actually female. "You are wearing too bright of colors. You must contrast! The attention your scales deserve is being completely undermined. And you, my dear. Your brown scales do not need to be a misfortune. Jazz it up with something bright. Now, I wonder how to repair you both..."
She waited to see if she could allow any of them to take credit for her clothes swapping idea.
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Nat'ia
Committed
Stealin' valuables
Roleplay posts: 50
Age: 22 Years
Physical Description: Mostly Reptilian features yet somewhat Avian
5' tall, bipedal legs
Strange marking on left shoulder
Clothes and Equipment: Discolored light leather armor
A beat up Wooden buckler
Javelins, 4 total
Balanced Machete with some wear and tear along the blade.
Player's online availability : Eh
Registered: Oct 6, 2015 16:42:15 GMT -8
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Post by Nat'ia on Nov 2, 2016 8:23:34 GMT -8
Osma grunted as the rock bread hit her squarely in the chest. One breast felt like it had pushed inside her torso still ached even has the bread rested between her knees. "Ha,ha! I caught it!" What was it? Her nose wringled as she eyeballed the rough grains. Was this bread or a giant hardened.....terd! She gasped and opened her knees. The bread feel to the soggy ground beneath her. That was not funny. At least not to her. After a breif pause to allow these CHILDREN to stop chuckling, she continued her offer of help. She could feel their interest. "For instance, ladies..." The term was applied losely to a bright scaled creature she hoped was actually female. "You are wearing too bright of colors. You must contrast! The attention your scales deserve is being completely undermined. And you, my dear. Your brown scales do not need to be a misfortune. Jazz it up with something bright. Now, I wonder how to repair you both..." She waited to see if she could allow any of them to take credit for her clothes swapping idea. The females, both kiggy and gnoll alike, were deeply enticed in Osma Gaiman 's proposition. Normally their scales were just their natural color, and their clothes and armor were colored to camouflage them with their surroundings, which was undoubtedly either mud brown or plant green. They never really wanted or had nice colors, they weren't going to be in battle soon, so they might as well fancy up for their boys. "Really?"
"How is one be pretty?"
"We got colors, blood red and... brown."
"I'm okay wit being fancy fer now."One of the lady kiggies came to her post where Osma was tied by her hands and cut her ropes free. She'd finally be off the ropes, but if she tried to run... Death was only a few javelin and arrows away, not to mention the creatures on all sides. "You help us make nice look, otherwise you'll be back on there with the ropes, or worse..."Surprisingly, she offered to help Osma up by hold out her clawed hand for the woman to grab. They awaited what to get or do first by standing around Osma Gaiman in a circle. Perhaps this would be their first girls' night out? "Now go do, make quick!" |
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Osma Gaiman
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 193
Age: 22
Physical Description: Physical Description:
Osma has fair skin, since she never had to toil outdoors. Her brown hair is so dark it is almost black and rests in long waves down to her waist. Her eyebrows are thick, since plucking them hasn't been invented yet. Her lips are full. Her brown eyes common.
She wasn't hit with the ugly stick when she was born, if one doesn't take into account an ugly personality.
Clothes and Equipment: Clothes and Equipment
A few dresses of good quality, made for warmth. Animal furs and lots of Stag horns on everything. Its a symbol of the noble house she is from.
Plant powders and the like hidden in "poison rings" and necklaces. Etc.
Knife and other tools used to harvest plants and birth babies.
Registered: Sept 17, 2016 8:24:18 GMT -8
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Post by Osma Gaiman on Nov 2, 2016 9:32:09 GMT -8
Osma lightly gasped as she felt her hand ties losen. Blood began to circulate back into her wrists. Her gut reaction was to chide the one who freed her for not warning her first, but that venon was quickly swallowed.
"Well, I can hear by your tone that you are very eager." Osma rubbed her wrists together. Being freed from her ropes was her plan, she just didnt expect it to be so soon.
Stupid lizards.
Osma smiled as she took the offered claw and was holsted to her feet. Wet, dirt gritty cloth flapped against the back of her calves. She moved aside a thick dreadlock of mud caked hair and stood quite primly despite her appearance.
Thank Goddess there were no humans around.
Though she might have gotten a few paces free of them, it was not her intent to run. Not now. Not now that there was circle of them around her, waking for her help. Her wisdom.
Before her was a great challenge, which came so rarely that her mind numbed her peral. She had work to do.
"Now, first we must bath. Get rid of those dead scales shall we? We need lava rocks, but I doubt you have any. Bark will have to do. To the river!"
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Nat'ia
Committed
Stealin' valuables
Roleplay posts: 50
Age: 22 Years
Physical Description: Mostly Reptilian features yet somewhat Avian
5' tall, bipedal legs
Strange marking on left shoulder
Clothes and Equipment: Discolored light leather armor
A beat up Wooden buckler
Javelins, 4 total
Balanced Machete with some wear and tear along the blade.
Player's online availability : Eh
Registered: Oct 6, 2015 16:42:15 GMT -8
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Post by Nat'ia on Nov 3, 2016 6:27:29 GMT -8
Osma lightly gasped as she felt her hand ties losen. Blood began to circulate back into her wrists. Her gut reaction was to chide the one who freed her for not warning her first, but that venon was quickly swallowed. "Well, I can hear by your tone that you are very eager." Osma rubbed her wrists together. Being freed from her ropes was her plan, she just didnt expect it to be so soon. Stupid lizards. Osma smiled as she took the offered claw and was holsted to her feet. Wet, dirt gritty cloth flapped against the back of her calves. She moved aside a thick dreadlock of mud caked hair and stood quite primly despite her appearance. Thank Goddess there were no humans around. Though she might have gotten a few paces free of them, it was not her intent to run. Not now. Not now that there was circle of them around her, waking for her help. Her wisdom. Before her was a great challenge, which came so rarely that her mind numbed her peral. She had work to do. "Now, first we must bath. Get rid of those dead scales shall we? We need lava rocks, but I doubt you have any. Bark will have to do. To the river!"
"Yee, les get goin to the stream that's nearby!"The larger group of ladies talked among themselves as the four (visibly armed) guards privately escorted Osma Gaiman down to the water. It was a short hike, just outside the camp, down a hill, and through a section forest, there lied a freshwater creek hidden by the surrounding trees, it had a bed of smooth stones.  It was probably the cleanest thing she'd seen yet since going out alone. While Osma would likely be distracted by the sight or sound of water, a loop of rope was slipped over her head and tightened enough to where she couldn't take it off without undoing the knot, but it was loose enough not to choke her. (If she wasn't pulling.) Osma was now on a leash which was held by the biggest of the female guards. Now at the creek's banks, a lot of them didn't want to take a bath, they didn't need it and they'd just get dirty again! "Wat we do now?"
"No dirty hooman tricks er anythin.'"
"Next step?" |
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Osma Gaiman
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 193
Age: 22
Physical Description: Physical Description:
Osma has fair skin, since she never had to toil outdoors. Her brown hair is so dark it is almost black and rests in long waves down to her waist. Her eyebrows are thick, since plucking them hasn't been invented yet. Her lips are full. Her brown eyes common.
She wasn't hit with the ugly stick when she was born, if one doesn't take into account an ugly personality.
Clothes and Equipment: Clothes and Equipment
A few dresses of good quality, made for warmth. Animal furs and lots of Stag horns on everything. Its a symbol of the noble house she is from.
Plant powders and the like hidden in "poison rings" and necklaces. Etc.
Knife and other tools used to harvest plants and birth babies.
Registered: Sept 17, 2016 8:24:18 GMT -8
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Post by Osma Gaiman on Nov 3, 2016 8:24:24 GMT -8
Her entourage assembled around her. Just because she was barefoot, her hair was a lumped rat's nest and her clothes were in shambles did not mean that she had to walk like a peasant.
Osma drifted like a queen towards the stream. Chin uplifted with a soft smile on her lips. Her fingers habitually lifted the hem of her chemise so that she would not step upon the torn hem. The bit that was ripped off her shoulder did cause the right side to dripple a bit.
The "rope necklace" she was given landed on her head at first. A crown! How sweet that they made her a crown. She realized, after one of the guards yanked it down. That it was leash.
Anger flared. She was no dog! She forced another political smile, arranged the rope so that it laid evenly about her collar bone and continued her precession.
Her subjects were so eager to gain her wisdom! She instructioned the lot of them. Sending some to fetch the bark and putting them into partner teams. They scrubbed each other with bark and stone, allowing the dead scales to drift downstream.
Osma, grinning, was watching her gals hard at work and taking a small bath when a large chunk of scale stopped against her barefoot. It shimmered in the dim light. One could say it sprinkled.
"Mmhmmm". She placed her fingers around the rope and elegantly bent at the knee to retrieve it. Holding it to her face, she toyed with an idea.
Her sights turned to the guard nearest her. She stuck put her arm. "Oh do hold still. What am I to do with dried scale, kill you?" She held the bit to the creatures face.
Ohhhh.
She bent it tries to tear it. Animal fat. Specifically mammals. That could possible keep the scales moist enough...
Her eyes scanned the river. Patches of fashion gold was sailing away. "EVERYBOBY STOP! Get them! Get the big patches. I have an idea. It will look amazing!"
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Nat'ia
Committed
Stealin' valuables
Roleplay posts: 50
Age: 22 Years
Physical Description: Mostly Reptilian features yet somewhat Avian
5' tall, bipedal legs
Strange marking on left shoulder
Clothes and Equipment: Discolored light leather armor
A beat up Wooden buckler
Javelins, 4 total
Balanced Machete with some wear and tear along the blade.
Player's online availability : Eh
Registered: Oct 6, 2015 16:42:15 GMT -8
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Post by Nat'ia on Nov 7, 2016 9:32:22 GMT -8
Her entourage assembled around her. Just because she was barefoot, her hair was a lumped rat's nest and her clothes were in shambles did not mean that she had to walk like a peasant. Osma drifted like a queen towards the stream. Chin uplifted with a soft smile on her lips. Her fingers habitually lifted the hem of her chemise so that she would not step upon the torn hem. The bit that was ripped off her shoulder did cause the right side to dripple a bit. The "rope necklace" she was given landed on her head at first. A crown! How sweet that they made her a crown. She realized, after one of the guards yanked it down. That it was leash. Anger flared. She was no dog! She forced another political smile, arranged the rope so that it laid evenly about her collar bone and continued her precession. Her subjects were so eager to gain her wisdom! She instructioned the lot of them. Sending some to fetch the bark and putting them into partner teams. They scrubbed each other with bark and stone, allowing the dead scales to drift downstream. Osma, grinning, was watching her gals hard at work and taking a small bath when a large chunk of scale stopped against her barefoot. It shimmered in the dim light. One could say it sprinkled. "Mmhmmm". She placed her fingers around the rope and elegantly bent at the knee to retrieve it. Holding it to her face, she toyed with an idea. Her sights turned to the guard nearest her. She stuck put her arm. "Oh do hold still. What am I to do with dried scale, kill you?" She held the bit to the creatures face. Ohhhh. She bent it tries to tear it. Animal fat. Specifically mammals. That could possible keep the scales moist enough... Her eyes scanned the river. Patches of fashion gold was sailing away. "EVERYBOBY STOP! Get them! Get the big patches. I have an idea. It will look amazing!" The clique of women would follow Osma Gaiman's instructions, happily going and scrubbing eachother down with the rough pieces of wooden bark. The dull scales from the kiggies peeled away, revealing nicer shades of yellow, pink, purple, red, orange and blue. Loose clumped chunks of fur from the gnolls floated down in the river, letting the cleaner more vibrant brown, gray, blue, white and tan show through. A few had hesitations, this was their cover, their camouflage! How were they to hide so they could ambush people before a battle? Eventually, they all gave in and washed themselves too, hoping they wouldn't regret this when they had weapon piercing them. The guard wasn't very amused with Osma, but didn't feel like retaliating and let her go without a punishment. This time. There was quite a pause when Osma yelled, they all halted and turned, not sure why she was shouting. Most doubted her that it would look nice, and continued vigorously washing, not picking any up. A few however were finished scrubbing and snatched some sheets of scale up then waded through the shallow water and handed it to the noblewoman. |
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Osma Gaiman
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 193
Age: 22
Physical Description: Physical Description:
Osma has fair skin, since she never had to toil outdoors. Her brown hair is so dark it is almost black and rests in long waves down to her waist. Her eyebrows are thick, since plucking them hasn't been invented yet. Her lips are full. Her brown eyes common.
She wasn't hit with the ugly stick when she was born, if one doesn't take into account an ugly personality.
Clothes and Equipment: Clothes and Equipment
A few dresses of good quality, made for warmth. Animal furs and lots of Stag horns on everything. Its a symbol of the noble house she is from.
Plant powders and the like hidden in "poison rings" and necklaces. Etc.
Knife and other tools used to harvest plants and birth babies.
Registered: Sept 17, 2016 8:24:18 GMT -8
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Post by Osma Gaiman on Nov 16, 2016 20:44:55 GMT -8
Osma gathered up the scales she was handed. It was rare that so many demanded so much of her, or that she was made a semi servant to them. Osma preferred the term "personal adviser".
Over the next few hours, she gave a shit tone of personal advice.
Now that the females were cleaned up, they sparkled in the sunlight. Oh, the colors. If one could just skin on of them for their scales (or whatever taking scales were called). Image the armored dress one might wear at a tournament or high on the hill at a battle!Alas, Osma would not have her hand on the dismembered of scales or the long silky gnoll hairs anytime soon.
Instead, she was busy instructing these poor fouls on how to dress to maximize their colorationation. She was sending some off to fetch the roots and berries that would provide the dye to paint their claws a dried blood color. Although she wore a rope collar, by all appearances she seemed in charge.
"Now ladies," she had just finished showing the gals how to dip their nails into the dye. They were sharing the pot. Some were letting their nails dry so that the extra dripped to the ground. Others were allowing them to drip down, so that it ran down their hands for that "bonus gore look". Osma swallowed. The fire they had lit to keep their cold blood warm was drying Osma's throat.
She waved her fingers towards her throat to ask for water and held out her hand in expectation. "I'm not saying that what you have done so far isn't enough because oh-my-goddess you all look fab-o-lous. It's just that, sometimes guys just don't see what is right in front of them. So," her eyes glanced towards the side, scanning the tree line.
It would be dark in about two hours.
Was anyone looking for her? Where was Oreo? Where was Shin? Where was ANYONE? Hell, she'd even take George showing to save her.
"Let me show you a little trick. You can't just lumber about like one of the guys. You have to move with grace, not slutty, mind you. You want to get what you want with little giving back, right? A really good move I've picked up goes like this..." She paused to see what was taking her drink so long.
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Nat'ia
Committed
Stealin' valuables
Roleplay posts: 50
Age: 22 Years
Physical Description: Mostly Reptilian features yet somewhat Avian
5' tall, bipedal legs
Strange marking on left shoulder
Clothes and Equipment: Discolored light leather armor
A beat up Wooden buckler
Javelins, 4 total
Balanced Machete with some wear and tear along the blade.
Player's online availability : Eh
Registered: Oct 6, 2015 16:42:15 GMT -8
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Post by Nat'ia on Nov 17, 2016 9:19:48 GMT -8
Osma gathered up the scales she was handed. It was rare that so many demanded so much of her, or that she was made a semi servant to them. Osma preferred the term "personal adviser". Over the next few hours, she gave a shit tone of personal advice. Now that the females were cleaned up, they sparkled in the sunlight. Oh, the colors. If one could just skin on of them for their scales (or whatever taking scales were called). Image the armored dress one might wear at a tournament or high on the hill at a battle!Alas, Osma would not have her hand on the dismembered of scales or the long silky gnoll hairs anytime soon. Instead, she was busy instructing these poor fouls on how to dress to maximize their colorationation. She was sending some off to fetch the roots and berries that would provide the dye to paint their claws a dried blood color. Although she wore a rope collar, by all appearances she seemed in charge. "Now ladies," she had just finished showing the gals how to dip their nails into the dye. They were sharing the pot. Some were letting their nails dry so that the extra dripped to the ground. Others were allowing them to drip down, so that it ran down their hands for that "bonus gore look". Osma swallowed. The fire they had lit to keep their cold blood warm was drying Osma's throat. She waved her fingers towards her throat to ask for water and held out her hand in expectation. "I'm not saying that what you have done so far isn't enough because oh-my-goddess you all look fab-o-lous. It's just that, sometimes guys just don't see what is right in front of them. So," her eyes glanced towards the side, scanning the tree line. It would be dark in about two hours. Was anyone looking for her? Where was Oreo? Where was Shin? Where was ANYONE? Hell, she'd even take George showing to save her. "Let me show you a little trick. You can't just lumber about like one of the guys. You have to move with grace, not slutty, mind you. You want to get what you want with little giving back, right? A really good move I've picked up goes like this..." She paused to see what was taking her drink so long. Each woman individually enjoyed dyeing their claws and forearms after they had washed up. (Especially Nat'ia!) They had to admit though, that they were lookin' just real spunky! But for most of these smaller creatures, they were starting to grow tired as darkness set in, and no doubt their man-friends would be looking for them soon. They would tolerate Osma Gaiman's last lesson for the day before likely heading back to camp. A few of them stretched and yawned before demonstrating what they already knew about "elegant movements." Eventually a kiggy came back with a bear bladder waterskin that was filled with fresh water and handed it over to Osma Gaiman's grasp. It seemed as if the female group did come to a consensus that Osma Gaiman may indeed, be useful. A few of them tried graceful movements around the creek, but they appeared more like as to how one stalks prey or how one pounces upon it's jugular and rips it apart. It was obvious they would not give up their warrior lifestyle because of their stubborn resolve, plus it's what their guys like. While she could try to teach them, they would never abandon their hardened training for the walk of a prissy human noble. Osma Gaiman could give any last tips, but unless she had something to do or say that was extrodinary, Nat'ia would order a march back to the camp, all with shining new colors. Except Osma in her torn clothes, of course. |
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Osma Gaiman
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 193
Age: 22
Physical Description: Physical Description:
Osma has fair skin, since she never had to toil outdoors. Her brown hair is so dark it is almost black and rests in long waves down to her waist. Her eyebrows are thick, since plucking them hasn't been invented yet. Her lips are full. Her brown eyes common.
She wasn't hit with the ugly stick when she was born, if one doesn't take into account an ugly personality.
Clothes and Equipment: Clothes and Equipment
A few dresses of good quality, made for warmth. Animal furs and lots of Stag horns on everything. Its a symbol of the noble house she is from.
Plant powders and the like hidden in "poison rings" and necklaces. Etc.
Knife and other tools used to harvest plants and birth babies.
Registered: Sept 17, 2016 8:24:18 GMT -8
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Post by Osma Gaiman on Dec 5, 2016 13:46:39 GMT -8
Keep a smile. Keep a smile. Encourage them... Osma thought as she watched the uncouth creatures pounce and use sticks in place of small, woodland creatures they were practicing mauling.
DEAR GODDESS WHY DID YOU GIVE THESE ANIMALS INTELLIGENCE?
It took great effort to wipe the "resting bitch face" off of Osma's expression. She OH SO VERY FUCKING patiently gave them tips as they walked back to the camp. She took the bladder of water and smelled of it before taking a drink, then held it out for the servant/forceful host to take back.
Osma was not hopeful enough to model them into proper ladies. When a group of beings were has far gone as they, one needed to lower ones expectations. "Ladies, let me show you." She glanced to the creature holding her noose and exchanged a small nod as the group formed a semi circle before her.
"Here is a little trick I learned early on. Now,in the perfect world, we would all have someone else fetch things off the floor for us. However, when the we must do so ourselves, has...er...ladies, we all know that we should bend at the knee if WE must be the ones to pick up something off the floor or in your cases, the ground."
Did they know that? Did they?
Osma flicked her hair over her shoulder and wiggled the noose upon her neck. She would weather through this presentation. "When you want to make sure you command the eye of a certain fellow, or lady, here is what you do. You simply pretend that you are not aware of their presence, move so that your posterior is in profile and then you bend, at the hip, like so."
"It is important that, while doing so, you slowly reach out your hand, pick up the item and then, Oh Goddess! You just realised that someone was there. Snap back quickly and flash a surprised, but coy, smile."
For a spell, she tried coached the grouped the "ART" of being a vain, confusing female human. When at least they came to accept a feral version of the Bend and Snap, they continued onward into the camp.
By the time they arrived, Osma was shivering and the sun had set.
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Nat'ia
Committed
Stealin' valuables
Roleplay posts: 50
Age: 22 Years
Physical Description: Mostly Reptilian features yet somewhat Avian
5' tall, bipedal legs
Strange marking on left shoulder
Clothes and Equipment: Discolored light leather armor
A beat up Wooden buckler
Javelins, 4 total
Balanced Machete with some wear and tear along the blade.
Player's online availability : Eh
Registered: Oct 6, 2015 16:42:15 GMT -8
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Post by Nat'ia on Dec 6, 2016 9:37:47 GMT -8
Keep a smile. Keep a smile. Encourage them... Osma thought as she watched the uncouth creatures pounce and use sticks in place of small, woodland creatures they were practicing mauling. DEAR GODDESS WHY DID YOU GIVE THESE ANIMALS INTELLIGENCE? It took great effort to wipe the "resting bitch face" off of Osma's expression. She OH SO VERY FUCKING patiently gave them tips as they walked back to the camp. She took the bladder of water and smelled of it before taking a drink, then held it out for the servant/forceful host to take back. Osma was not hopeful enough to model them into proper ladies. When a group of beings were has far gone as they, one needed to lower ones expectations. "Ladies, let me show you." She glanced to the creature holding her noose and exchanged a small nod as the group formed a semi circle before her. "Here is a little trick I learned early on. Now,in the perfect world, we would all have someone else fetch things off the floor for us. However, when the we must do so ourselves, has...er...ladies, we all know that we should bend at the knee if WE must be the ones to pick up something off the floor or in your cases, the ground." Did they know that? Did they? Osma flicked her hair over her shoulder and wiggled the noose upon her neck. She would weather through this presentation. "When you want to make sure you command the eye of a certain fellow, or lady, here is what you do. You simply pretend that you are not aware of their presence, move so that your posterior is in profile and then you bend, at the hip, like so." "It is important that, while doing so, you slowly reach out your hand, pick up the item and then, Oh Goddess! You just realised that someone was there. Snap back quickly and flash a surprised, but coy, smile." For a spell, she tried coached the grouped the "ART" of being a vain, confusing female human. When at least they came to accept a feral version of the Bend and Snap, they continued onward into the camp. By the time they arrived, Osma was shivering and the sun had set. They continued to pretend to dance while murdering another small creature along the way, until Osma Gaiman stopped them for a quick tutorial. Her water provider scurried away to gather another full pouch of river water. They gathered around her, eyeing her strange hooman movements and noting her word choice. Why did they have to bend at the knee, why not bend at the everything when picking something up? Why not just do it yourself? What if someone steals it while you’re too busy trying to pick it up?!?! None of the ladies particularly got why they had to do this, but tried to follow her guidance. They mastered the “Bend” much faster than the “Snap,” but eventually achieved something close enough to what Osma Gaiman wanted, and were able to continue towards their temporary home with Osma dragging behind by a leash. Nothing much had changed with the camp while they were gone all day, as Osma Gaiman would be led to the exact same pole she was tied to earlier. However, this time her leash was tethered to the stake, leaving her hands and feet free to breathe. The rope was short, so she had little walking room, but it certainly was an improvement from previously. Out of kindness or some external motive, one of the females she’d been teaching gifted her with an animal fur, presumably to be used as a blanket, clothes, or whatever Osma Gaiman deemed it. Throughout the whole night, Osma Gaiman would’ve been able to hear the rough sounds of her pupils making sweet, sweet love in their tents. It seemed their male comrades approved of their appearance change, as they were loving the women harder than they had on any other night. The men showed competition too, some even breaking out into brawls over the best beautiful warrior girls of their legion. Nat'ia had many competitors over whom should be gifted enough to sleep with her over the night. Osma Gaiman ’s advice had somewhat worked to a degree, as she made the men flock to each lady because of their beauty and looks, but there was still work to be done in other places, as Osma Gaiman would soon listen and find out, all through the dark and until the sun started to rise. Perhaps tomorrow she’d need to demonstrate for them how to make copulating with their manly friends a lot pleasanter and quieter…. |
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Warlord Shintaro Nishida
Dedicated
Marquis of Aozora
Roleplay posts: 312 
Age: 25
Clothes and Equipment: Eye Patch, Katana and Wakizashi, Odachi
Registered: Sept 3, 2015 22:12:26 GMT -8
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Post by Warlord Shintaro Nishida on Dec 10, 2016 19:38:42 GMT -8
The rescue party was now upon the enemy encampment. He looked to The Sparrow and Dimitri. "I'm open to ideas on our method. I am doubtful they would trade this gnoll for Osma. Some of them seem distracted though, we could take advantage and surprise attack them, I came here with the intention to exterminate these raiders, do you think I should show mercy? I feel they will continue to attack if I let them live." |
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Dimitri
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 101
Age: 32
Physical Description: Human Form
Height: 6'3"
Weight: 246lbs
Hair: Azure Black
Eyes: Bright Red
Wolf Form
Height: 4'5"
Weight: 246lbs
Fur: Azure Black
Eyes: Bright Red
Hybrid
Height: 6'3"
Weight 260lbs
Fur: Azure Black
Eyes: Bright Red
Clothes and Equipment: Has an assortment of clothes within his packs. Some meant for travel in the freezing arctic of his homelands, while others are far lighter and meant for days spent in tropical climates.
Amor: Unspectacular Full Plate Armor. No Enchantments or special material. Redesigned helmet to look like his wolves head.
Weapon: Adamantine Halberd. Material allows the weapon to ignore physical damage resistances of a target. No Enchantments.
A silver dagger, use unknown.
Accessories: Ring of Four Winds. Allows a fast cast of feather fall upon oneself, 4 times daily.
Bracelet of Enduring Soul. Prevents moderate damage from Ice and Fire based spells and abilities.
Ring of Truesight: Able to see creatures using illusion to hide their real forms as well as invisible creatures.
Registered: Mar 21, 2016 17:32:15 GMT -8
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Post by Dimitri on Dec 12, 2016 21:06:46 GMT -8
Dimitri would look onto the camp, overly not impressed with the layout. These were simple hunters by the looks of the tents, and he was uncertain if this culture brought their women and children with them as well, creating a mobile community. Outright attacking would be ill advised as well as they were but a search party, and this was an entire community of possible hunters and warriors. Bad odds of success even to a untrained eye.
As he watched and contemplated, he would walk a bit away from the group, mimicking a posture that depicted thinking, but in truth, he just wanted to get away while he shifted back into his human form. This would take a few minutes as he was trying to be quiet and not draw attention to himself. Afterwards he would walk back and speak his mind. "I do not believe an attack on this place is the best idea. We have but a few troops and they outnumber us enough to make even a surprise attack not worth the risk. Though from what I can see, this looks more like a nomadic hunting tribe of sorts. While this may not apply here, such societies follow the rule of the strongest amongst them. I would suggest approaching with the prisoner exchange method, but be prepared for a duel with a few of their strongest numbers should that not take. I will unpack my armor. Would not do to fight in a duel with such heavy armor and be spoken as cheating because of it."
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Warlord Shintaro Nishida
Dedicated
Marquis of Aozora
Roleplay posts: 312
Age: 25
Clothes and Equipment: Eye Patch, Katana and Wakizashi, Odachi
Registered: Sept 3, 2015 22:12:26 GMT -8
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Post by Warlord Shintaro Nishida on Dec 14, 2016 10:37:32 GMT -8
"We'll try it then. But we need a backup plan for if the exchange doesn't work out. We need to secure Osma's safety." Shintaro looked to Swan and Dimitri then took out some rope, he'd then secure a noose around Mirssa's neck. If things got hairy, he planned to hang the Gnoll. Even if the Hunting Legion had numbers, they were less equipped and smaller in stature, the Rescue squad would have an advantage in those aspects.
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Osma Gaiman
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 193
Age: 22
Physical Description: Physical Description:
Osma has fair skin, since she never had to toil outdoors. Her brown hair is so dark it is almost black and rests in long waves down to her waist. Her eyebrows are thick, since plucking them hasn't been invented yet. Her lips are full. Her brown eyes common.
She wasn't hit with the ugly stick when she was born, if one doesn't take into account an ugly personality.
Clothes and Equipment: Clothes and Equipment
A few dresses of good quality, made for warmth. Animal furs and lots of Stag horns on everything. Its a symbol of the noble house she is from.
Plant powders and the like hidden in "poison rings" and necklaces. Etc.
Knife and other tools used to harvest plants and birth babies.
Registered: Sept 17, 2016 8:24:18 GMT -8
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Post by Osma Gaiman on Dec 20, 2016 21:15:26 GMT -8
Osma found herself tethered once more in the middle of the crude camp, like a goat set out for the slaughter. This time, however, she had earned some trust and was giving the freedom of hand and foot.
Suckers.
She was even given an animal fur, which must have once belonged to some kind of unwashed yak creature. From it's folds she imaged the jumping and biting of a million fleas. The reptiles among them were not hosts, but the gnolls were likely so. So help them all if they gave her fleas!!!!
With a sad sigh, Osma resolved herself to the day she had experienced and the night that would follow. She had been lost in self-pity when the creatures returned to their tent.
Well, most did.
A few had no shame in preforming their passions for the moon and Osma to see. "Oh my Gawness." She stated as she walked to the far side of the stake, pulling on her noose collar to keep it from choking her. "Do you mind? Would you please kindly? I say if you would wait. No. Stop that! BAD GNOLLS. GO FIND A ROOM OR A HOVEL or something."
Her words were ignored.
For the shake of her dignity more than theirs, she turned her back to them. The stake she was tied too was smoother than their careless way of thinking should allow. It had been rough before. Had someone in camp smoothed it down while they were at the river?
Well that was...nice.
They weren't SO bad, smelly yak fur besides. Osma found herself grateful for the nasty fur and grateful for the smoothed stake. She even found herself grateful for the sounds of their uncouth forincations, for it certainly kept other wild beasts away. It also, just might, attract some civilized ones.
However much she wanted to tell herself that she had planned for them to all have sex and make lots of noise to alert her rescue ARMY, their sounds were just a byproduct of her trying to make her vanity useful. Didn't matter. She was still going to feel very clever as she slowly circled along her stake (eyes away from the bend and snap happening) as she tried to spy the flash of armor in the darkness.
WHERE THE HELL WAS HER RESCUE ARMY? Seriously, did SHE and her medical talents mean nothing to the Warlord Who Was a PRICE BUT Not-A-Prince BUT A PRIncedom thingy called....oh shit....what was the name of that town? "Mmmm," she paused in her searching to think. A something. It started with an A. That she was sure of.
While she thought, she grew bored. There was no mirror about or brush in which to do her nightly ritual hair brushing. She was cleaner now than she had been before, but mud was smished between her toes and her torn under dress let in the dewy night chill. Despite the cuts on her body, which were turning to scabs, and the ratty state of her clothes, Osma looked a spirit with the yak fur wafting in the chilled breeze and the moonlight beaming off the juices still lingering on the scabs. She looked like a queen. A queen of the swamp people, but very stately for having a rope tied around her neck.
Osma exhaled in relief not long after the gnolls cummed. "Being held captive is so boring." She sighed as she leaned against the stake. The stake leaned a little with her.
Her eyes shot to the side. The gnolls that were fucking were returning to a tent where the passion were turning into snores. Osma leaned up, took a hand and gave the stake a wiggle. The ground was wet and that made it loose! HAHAHAH! She would wait for them to be asleep and then she would wiggle it free and slip out of the rope and then run back to that place that started with the letter A and be AWESOME and they would rename that place OSMALAND.
It was sure to happen.
To test how loose this stake was, Osma began to disguise her push and pull of it as some kind of dance which consisted of her spinning around the pole. The mud was slick and she caught herself before she could fall and choke herself by hooking her thigh on the pole. This exposed her leg in an unladylike fashion and she stood up to fix what there was her garment.
But the stake had shifted more.
So again she turned, putting her weight into the stake she was turning into a pole. She spun in reverse to unwind the rope and was just about to do another twirl when low and behold she saw the flash of something metal in the nearby distance. She paused, eyes straight at the thing. Hand capping her eyebrows as if the sun where out and shinning.
Was it...? Could it be...?
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