Miroell
Established
Bustin' Through!
Roleplay posts: 21
Age: 25
Physical Description: Warning! Slightly NSFW! Parental Advisory Advised.
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Miroell is a bit of a short human, standing round-about one and a half meter in height. Her skin is sand-touched yellow, smooth and unblemished from years of attentive care. She has silk-smooth, near golden colored hair reaching down to her shoulders, with matching bright blue eyes similar to that of the ocean. A pointed nose rests at the center of her face, attracting little attention but highlighting her plump, thick lips, curved into a soft smile. Overall, her face is round, with an emphasis on innocence winds and desert beauty.
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Traveling down from her face, one could see sleek curves of her neck bones and the drawn length of her shoulders, which are slender with a smooth curve. Her bust is rather incredible, nearly undistinguished in size but incredible massive, and cumbersome.
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Her waist is thin, curved inwards from her shoulders before going outwards towards her wide hips, which have a further reach than her slim shoulders. Her rear is a good handful, yet smaller is size compared to her bust. Her thighs are thick and sleek, to uphold all the carefully placed weight doted around her frame.
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Clothes and Equipment: -----------------------------------
Miroell's choice of clothing can be both attributed to the very warm climates of her country, and her more risque personality. Some of which can be counted into her personal love of her own body. As such, she is seen in little enough clothing to be considered 'Clothed', but does often skirt on the lines of appearance. Flimsy, see-through material cover her skin in all but the more sensitive regions, where silk clothes are placed for modest protection. Little is left to the imagination, but enough is covered to entice it.
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Player's online availability : GMT +0, Activity random, but will forum-stalk whenever possible.
Registered: Aug 4, 2017 11:51:48 GMT -8
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Post by Miroell on Aug 17, 2017 4:08:08 GMT -8
Was about to raise an answer to Flinn's question as Ripper stumbled into the tavern. Her curiosity drew Miroell to look upon the strangely clad man, and she remained silent and curious through-out the entire exchange of words. Aside from recoiling visibly at the spray of blood, followed with him burning his own flesh, her lips frowning in a disgust manner as she observed it on the floor afterwards. Not really wanting to be too close to the pool, or the strange man for that matter, she proceeded to walk on the rise where Roy and Hester were, not approaching or sitting next to them without permission, but instead chose a seat slightly away with an empty table...
Sitting down, it would become apparent as-to why she chose an empty table, as she rested her breasts on the wooden table with a soft sigh. (Did that table make a small creek?) Her gray cloak still covering her entire body, but by now it was clear what that bulge at the front was to everyone. Once comfortable with the weight off her chest, she moved her hands up to the cowl covering her face, pulling it into a make-do shawl, her golden-blonde hair flowed gently into existence, and her face was better observable now.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: May 3, 2024 3:09:52 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Aug 18, 2017 23:37:26 GMT -8
A very tired, cranky, whining, and hungry bundle of black scales was waddling along, finally happening across a huuuuuge structure at the crossing of dusty roads. The creature didn't get to approach much more, though - the tiny hatchling finally flopping on the ground with a very pitiful wail. She was so tired... and very lost. She lost Mama and home, and was so hungry. Mamaaaaa!
With any luck, someone inside the Oasis might hear the strange howling.
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Edith Arn Caster
Established
Roleplay posts: 33
Age: 56
Physical Description: A short woman of only five foot four inches. Her weight is a healthyone. Her once brown hair has turned silver, and warm brown eyes hold compassion for nearly everyone she mets.
Registered: Jul 23, 2017 13:56:26 GMT -8
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Post by Edith Arn Caster on Aug 20, 2017 20:04:36 GMT -8
(Rickard "Ripper" Flint )
Flinn nodded, listening, Drunk men tended to talk nonsense though this one had enough common strings to be boarding madness...
Then the knife came out.
" WHAT AR YA DOIN!" Flinn moved as quick as he could to intercept the man, but failed and watched in horror as the man killed himself right there on the floor. Bile rose in his throat, he had seen death before, but to watch someone take their lif--
Flinn's eyes might have been dinner plates...
He...He was alive?!
" WH-- NONONO!" The hobbled man again attempted to halt the madness, and simply got a first row seat to the spectral.
If the sound of a knife being plunged through his ribs haddn't been bad enough, the sizzling and poping of flesh only compounded things... He had to choke back the vomit rasing in his throat, clasping a hand over his mouth.
All of this , ontop of the smell. The room started to fill with the smell of scorched hair and burning flesh... unlike meats from animals, humans had a smell when on fire... a sickly sweet stench that clung to everything, and on a instinctual level, was wrong.
"I..." The inn keeper shook his head. " I think I'd prefer if ya leave... but if you're kreen on stayin 'ere, i'll ask , I'll beg you not do anyhthin' like that gain' Mind ya, ya nearly gave me a hear attack!" An edge of hystria crept into the inn keepers voice.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ( A little black hatchling )
Edith had shoveled the barrel of Rum from the back yard as Flinn had asked. The sat chewing on her lip in thought however, he was trying to snatcha feel on the blond hussy! He was a lecher and her mother had been right to warn her about 'im! oh but sod it all he was such a sweet man... and a hard worker for all his faul---
A howl...rather a whimper caught her attention. Her head snapped up... she could feel the blood pounding in her neck as she held her breath... what was that? Edith was manything... but a corner stone of her existence... Curiosity.
She crept forward, weilding her shovel like a warhammer, as she tip toed her way around...
Her heart sank... It was a babe.
" Oh honey.." She said softly, moving slowly to the creature, her eyes darted around, watching for mother... Should nothing attempt to maul the old woman. she would move closer to the hatchling.
" Poor thing... Whats the matter..?" She said, her eyes held concern, yet still darted about anxiously.
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Hester Fairweather
Committed
Roleplay posts: 51
Age: 25
Physical Description: A young woman, fairly tall standing five foot nine inches, and weighs a hair over one hundred and forty pounds. Her eyes are a striking brown and her hair a dirty red.
She has fair features and would be considered lovely to more than a few.
Yet this simple bard has many secretes... some grim. Sometimes , she could be found staring at the distance, with an expression of sorrow and anger.
Registered: Jul 23, 2017 14:03:19 GMT -8
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Post by Hester Fairweather on Aug 20, 2017 20:44:21 GMT -8
( Miroell ) ( Royal Fletcher) Hester rolled hereyes, either the joke was ignored or missed by the young Fletcher. Her eyes wandered a bit thinking for a moment about his question and statment. Storys... Yes she did have many stories. Her fingers started to play as she remebered.. It was a happy tune.. Storys... Her fingers stopped hearing the door open, her sharp emrad eyes took measure of the man, a "saioler" by the looks of it. What was he doing in this part of the world? There were no seas around, nor rivers for all she knew. The smell of booze rolled off him like wind did the sea... and hesters face scrunched. Had the man no decency? His captain should have him flogged! Flogged and taken east to the slavers! "... Yes I have many stories... Some grim, some of fancy. I've not put them to music yet however, so perhaps some other time." She said with a soft smile, her tone was easy with the young man. "Flinn I can cover tab---" She stopped as the man plunged the dagger into his own chest. Wide eyed she stared, holding her breath. When he sprang up like nothing happened, her right hand reached for her left up---! Only to find that 'it' was not there. Panic rolled over her face for a moment, then confusion as she stared with morbid curiosity. How on earth had he managed that...? "I..." She wet her lips." I'll take care of the lady master flin while you tend to... him." She said with a nod. The slender woman moved across the room, and gave a slight nod to the busty broad. "Would you like a drink?" She motioned as if drinking from an invisible cup , not overly exaggerated, but a polite nod to the language gap.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: May 3, 2024 3:09:52 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Aug 21, 2017 4:27:17 GMT -8
The tiny hatchling let out another pitiful wail, followed by a very angrily growling stomach. Her little black form would curl up slightly, though it was clear she wasn't very energetic or held much for strength - especially since she was so hungry. Nothing seemed to come tearing out of the woods or down the road after the baby - it was just the tiny thing, left alone.
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Rickard "Ripper" Flint
Committed
Roleplay posts: 77
Age: Surprising.
Physical Description: Standing at a hairs breadth under six feet tall, Ripper is a tall and slightly gaunt man. His face is angular and his bright green eyes narrow. His skin is a sickly pale grey and his body is made up of lean wiry muscle. He has long black hair that is usually quite messy.
Clothes and Equipment: Ripper is never scene without his long black coat. This often mended garment has innumerable little pockets that he uses to store a variety of things. Thread, needles, knives, rations, quills, ink, scalpels, and much, much more. Some of the pockets have even been water proofed just in case.
Besides the coat he also often wears a red bandanna to keep his hair tied back and bandages to cover his frequent wounds.
Registered: Mar 22, 2016 16:11:36 GMT -8
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Post by Rickard "Ripper" Flint on Aug 21, 2017 14:59:32 GMT -8
"Huh." Ripper says his eyes glancing over Flinn, Hester, Miroell, and Roy. "Two out of four, interesting, interesting." He says as he taps his chest where the skin is blackened and burnt. It feels like he only just nicked his heart, which would mean a blood letting for internal bleeding eventually. He might also pass out from anaemia in a few minutes depending on how long it took his blood to coagulate on the wound, internal wounds were tricky.
Ambling over to the bar he searches in his pocket and produces some incense. Another pocket produces a fire starter and a second later the fragrant smoke starts to overwhelm the smell of singed flesh. "Now that isn't hospitable," Ripper says leaning against the bar. "I'm a paying customer and you want me to leave?" He looks around at the nearly empty bar and shrugs. "Well, I guess I did put on a scene but not like either of your other customers seems to care and it looks like you could use my business."
He shrugs. "I just want Rum and a place to be lazy for the night, but if you want me gone I'll take my gold back. I paid upfront and that nugget is way more than getting some blood on your floors is worth."
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Miroell
Established
Bustin' Through!
Roleplay posts: 21
Age: 25
Physical Description: Warning! Slightly NSFW! Parental Advisory Advised.
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Miroell is a bit of a short human, standing round-about one and a half meter in height. Her skin is sand-touched yellow, smooth and unblemished from years of attentive care. She has silk-smooth, near golden colored hair reaching down to her shoulders, with matching bright blue eyes similar to that of the ocean. A pointed nose rests at the center of her face, attracting little attention but highlighting her plump, thick lips, curved into a soft smile. Overall, her face is round, with an emphasis on innocence winds and desert beauty.
-----
Traveling down from her face, one could see sleek curves of her neck bones and the drawn length of her shoulders, which are slender with a smooth curve. Her bust is rather incredible, nearly undistinguished in size but incredible massive, and cumbersome.
-----
Her waist is thin, curved inwards from her shoulders before going outwards towards her wide hips, which have a further reach than her slim shoulders. Her rear is a good handful, yet smaller is size compared to her bust. Her thighs are thick and sleek, to uphold all the carefully placed weight doted around her frame.
-----------------------------------
Clothes and Equipment: -----------------------------------
Miroell's choice of clothing can be both attributed to the very warm climates of her country, and her more risque personality. Some of which can be counted into her personal love of her own body. As such, she is seen in little enough clothing to be considered 'Clothed', but does often skirt on the lines of appearance. Flimsy, see-through material cover her skin in all but the more sensitive regions, where silk clothes are placed for modest protection. Little is left to the imagination, but enough is covered to entice it.
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Player's online availability : GMT +0, Activity random, but will forum-stalk whenever possible.
Registered: Aug 4, 2017 11:51:48 GMT -8
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Post by Miroell on Aug 22, 2017 6:44:25 GMT -8
"Oh, uh. Yes. I like drinks!" Miroell says quite cheerfully, smiling brightly to herself as she had successfully deciphered the language barrier! Not that it did her much credit, given how she entirely misunderstood the question.
"--Oh! Oh. Uh, water. Yes." The woman said after a little bit of thinking and contextualizing, a small but noticeable blush on her cheeks as she realizes her errors, smiling sheepishly towards the 'Bard'.
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Edith Arn Caster
Established
Roleplay posts: 33
Age: 56
Physical Description: A short woman of only five foot four inches. Her weight is a healthyone. Her once brown hair has turned silver, and warm brown eyes hold compassion for nearly everyone she mets.
Registered: Jul 23, 2017 13:56:26 GMT -8
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Post by Edith Arn Caster on Aug 23, 2017 10:43:48 GMT -8
Rickard "Ripper" Flint The Black One @ Royalfletcher The inn keep might have gnaw a hole through his bottom lip had he not said anything . " Aye, its just..." He searched for words. " That is to say we're simple folk, ain't been folks like ya self 'round here before, what with stabbin your self an all... When folk try and kill they self it's a big deal and I didn' know ya was gon be fine. It was a tad grizzly is all , I mean no offense. If I could ask ya to tone that sorta stuff down I would much apericate it, from teh bottem of me heart I would. " He explained. " I woun't 'ave kept your money anyhow, ain't right takin a mans money when he didn't get what he paid fur." He added, strightening his shirt a bit. The man was still uneasy about the man, but he did pay in advance... Edith The old womans hear broke, and she threw caution to the wind. " Oh deary.." She said in that tone all old women have, the one they used when they wrapped their arms around you and patted your head because you fell and scraped your knee. "Here, lets get ya inside. " She said, offer her hand to the tiny creature. Should the creature react kindly, she would scoop it up like a housecat, and move into the kitchen, cooing at the hatchling. " Master Roy!" Edith called from the back. " Might I trouble ya for a hand love?" She said, bouncing the hatchling ever so gently.
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Rickard "Ripper" Flint
Committed
Roleplay posts: 77
Age: Surprising.
Physical Description: Standing at a hairs breadth under six feet tall, Ripper is a tall and slightly gaunt man. His face is angular and his bright green eyes narrow. His skin is a sickly pale grey and his body is made up of lean wiry muscle. He has long black hair that is usually quite messy.
Clothes and Equipment: Ripper is never scene without his long black coat. This often mended garment has innumerable little pockets that he uses to store a variety of things. Thread, needles, knives, rations, quills, ink, scalpels, and much, much more. Some of the pockets have even been water proofed just in case.
Besides the coat he also often wears a red bandanna to keep his hair tied back and bandages to cover his frequent wounds.
Registered: Mar 22, 2016 16:11:36 GMT -8
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Post by Rickard "Ripper" Flint on Aug 24, 2017 16:41:52 GMT -8
"Then we have an accord." Ripper says giving the old man a lazy smile. It wasn't sinister exactly, but it didn't reach the dead man's eyes. Flinn might get the sense that this man hadn't given a true smile in a long, long time. "Name's Ripper." The black cloaked stranger declares settling down on the bar stool. "I'm a surgeon by trade and there isn't much in this world I can't heal if I feel so inclined." Drumming his fingers across the bar he eyes Flinn waiting for his rum as his looks at Royal Fletcher. Raising an accusatory finger her intones in a low voice. "I know a Fletcher when I see one, your cousin is a bitch. She stabbed me in the back. Your uncles alright though."
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: May 3, 2024 3:09:52 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Aug 24, 2017 22:01:05 GMT -8
The little hatchling mumbled and grumbled at a stranger scooping a hand beneath her wiry frame, but she was too hungry and tired to do much else. Very much like a cat that had been picked up, she would wave her unsupported legs for a moment before gathering up in a comfy ball in the old woman's arms. Normally strangers scared the tiny thing, but the voice of the woman soothed her and she settled to be hoisted up and carried off - hopefully towards something to eat!
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Royal Fletcher
Widely Known
Roleplay posts: 1,339
Age: 19
Physical Description: Royal is a pale boy with dark bags under his bluish eyes, an unfortunate result of too many days spent staring at books indoors by candlelight. He's thin, of slightly below average height, and has white hair.
Clothes and Equipment: Roy carries around an enchanted parasol at all times, which floats above him and shields him from the sunlight. He also has a sword, a gift from his cousin Roxanne. His pockets are always filled with an unreasonable amount of chocolate, and he usually has some sort of cake or other baked goods on his person.
Allegiances: The Fletcher Family
Player's online availability : Unreasonably often
Registered: Jun 3, 2015 19:45:42 GMT -8
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Post by Royal Fletcher on Aug 25, 2017 5:06:25 GMT -8
Roy glanced back and forth from the blond woman to the pirate who'd somehow just stabbed himself, and then to the little dragon who had been scooped up by Edith. What was going on? Was this an ordinary occurrence? How were so many strange things happening at once? He got up to help Edith with the scaly little critter, but stopped when the pirate called out to him. How did the man know him?
"Y-you know my family? Which cousin stabbed you? I...uh...have a lot. Was it Roxanne? I hope it wasn't, she's usually nice...which uncle, too? I have a lot of them as well."
He prayed that it wasn't Roxanne who stabbed the man. Roxanne was a bounty hunter and monster killer, after all. If she'd stabbed this guy, she'd probably had a good reason to do it. Of course, even if it wasn't her, maybe this pirate would try and take revenge on Roy. He shuddered, wondering what he could possibly do to protect himself against a man who could stab himself so casually.
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Edith Arn Caster
Established
Roleplay posts: 33
Age: 56
Physical Description: A short woman of only five foot four inches. Her weight is a healthyone. Her once brown hair has turned silver, and warm brown eyes hold compassion for nearly everyone she mets.
Registered: Jul 23, 2017 13:56:26 GMT -8
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Post by Edith Arn Caster on Aug 26, 2017 13:27:20 GMT -8
( Rickard "Ripper" Flint ) ( The Black One ) ( Royal Fletcher ) " Flinn." The inn keeper said, his eyes held a mixture of emotions, sympathy, fear, doubt, but there was honest kindness within his tone. " Pleasure to make your acquaintance , Master Ripper." He said extending a hand. " Pardon , i'll see what's holdin Edith, mah wife, up." He said, turning to the kitchen doorway. He did not miss the chatter going on in his Inn... Stabbed in the back, seldom do folks do such a thing with no reason... But then again this were strange times , and strange folk be all about. Light help him if this was to be his lott in life... Maybe he should have listen to his Da and done been an adventurer... Edith deftly held the creature so the beat may well have been curled up on the arm of a love seat in the sunlight, she needed her other hand free. Hmm the little one had its teeth... " Meat" She decided, The stook a rabit hanch from the pantry and offered it to the wee thing. Flinn froze mid hobble... " WHAT UNDER THE LIGHT IS THAT?!" Edith hissed. " Hush you lout! Poor things injured. Or at least lost and hungry!" " Edith" He pledeaded--- but cut short when she eyed him. " Aye... I'll go fetch Master Rippers rum, please don't fall down a rabbit hole love.." Edith snorted once. " I'll throw you down one if ya keep actin up!" Moments latter Flin hobbled back in with a barrel. " One moment more Master ripper.." He said in a strain as he hefted the oak barrel into a slot. " I might have me a drink as well.." He muttered, pouring a stout draught for the man. "Notes of choco, a rich tobacco aroma and well-rounded butterscotch finish... A great sipper me thinks." The man said setting it before the healer. " First one is free, and I'll apply payment for the others or anything else you might request." Flinn said with a smile.
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Hester Fairweather
Committed
Roleplay posts: 51
Age: 25
Physical Description: A young woman, fairly tall standing five foot nine inches, and weighs a hair over one hundred and forty pounds. Her eyes are a striking brown and her hair a dirty red.
She has fair features and would be considered lovely to more than a few.
Yet this simple bard has many secretes... some grim. Sometimes , she could be found staring at the distance, with an expression of sorrow and anger.
Registered: Jul 23, 2017 14:03:19 GMT -8
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Post by Hester Fairweather on Aug 26, 2017 13:36:43 GMT -8
( The Black One) ( Miroell ) The bard gave an apple cheeked smile and bowed her head slightly. "kama tahtaj." She said with only a hint of an accent in her voice. Her fingers fiddled with the instrument behind her back. She did not wait for a reply and simply moved to the kitchen. There was no exaggerated swish in her hip as she walked,unlike most bards, but the measured tempo of someone tapping a drum idly. " Pardon." She said, side stepping Flinn, however she stopped, and peered over the mans shoulder at what ever Edith was holding. " Edith... Where did you find that...?"
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Rickard "Ripper" Flint
Committed
Roleplay posts: 77
Age: Surprising.
Physical Description: Standing at a hairs breadth under six feet tall, Ripper is a tall and slightly gaunt man. His face is angular and his bright green eyes narrow. His skin is a sickly pale grey and his body is made up of lean wiry muscle. He has long black hair that is usually quite messy.
Clothes and Equipment: Ripper is never scene without his long black coat. This often mended garment has innumerable little pockets that he uses to store a variety of things. Thread, needles, knives, rations, quills, ink, scalpels, and much, much more. Some of the pockets have even been water proofed just in case.
Besides the coat he also often wears a red bandanna to keep his hair tied back and bandages to cover his frequent wounds.
Registered: Mar 22, 2016 16:11:36 GMT -8
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Post by Rickard "Ripper" Flint on Aug 27, 2017 8:49:42 GMT -8
"What cousin?" Ripper says with a laugh. "Ah, that's right there are more Fletchers in the world than rats on a ship." The dead man shakes his head. "Romelia Fletcher stabbed me in the back for taking some of her chocolate. Not figuratively mind, literally stabbed me in the back. As for the uncle, Redding Fletcher could there be any other? Finest alchemist this world has ever seen I'd bet my bottom dollar."
Ripper's attention snaps to Edith when Flinn reacts violently to her arrival, which he'd ignored at first. It takes the still slightly sloshed sailor a moment to realize what he was seeing. "That's a blood dragon." He says in an almost too calm voice. "Ye want to be careful with it, give it a few years and it will be big enough to eat ya."
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: May 3, 2024 3:09:52 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Aug 27, 2017 9:48:14 GMT -8
There were lots of noises and all new smells to hit her itty bitty nose when she was taken inside - bringing her head up a little to look around. It was overwhelming, and the little thing snuggled up closer to the woman for some sort of safety.
But the rabbit haunch offered beneath her beak drew her entire attention and she sniffed at it curiously - before letting out a little happy chortle and latching on with forepaws and teeth. Hunger had weakened her already fragile frame, but this was food! She wanted it! If allowed, she was likely to yank the whole thing and tear at it in a frenzy with all four sets of claws and her tiny teeth - almost seeming like a creature at play with the hunk of meat. But it was good - and made for a happier hatchling for it!
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Royal Fletcher
Widely Known
Roleplay posts: 1,339
Age: 19
Physical Description: Royal is a pale boy with dark bags under his bluish eyes, an unfortunate result of too many days spent staring at books indoors by candlelight. He's thin, of slightly below average height, and has white hair.
Clothes and Equipment: Roy carries around an enchanted parasol at all times, which floats above him and shields him from the sunlight. He also has a sword, a gift from his cousin Roxanne. His pockets are always filled with an unreasonable amount of chocolate, and he usually has some sort of cake or other baked goods on his person.
Allegiances: The Fletcher Family
Player's online availability : Unreasonably often
Registered: Jun 3, 2015 19:45:42 GMT -8
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Post by Royal Fletcher on Aug 28, 2017 5:45:02 GMT -8
Roy nodded in understanding at Ripper's plight. He'd met his cousin Romelia once, when she'd visited the estate for a little while. He'd still been very young back then, and hadn't liked her all that much. She wasn't particularly nice, and had stolen his pudding after dinner. When she'd left, she'd swiped Roxanne's favorite hand mirror and ran off in the middle of the night.
"Oh yeah...Romelia isn't very nice. What was she doing with you, though? What made her stab you? I didn't think she was the stabbing sort, just the stealing sort. Uncle Roarin is pretty nice, though."
He thought back to the last time he'd seen Uncle Roarin. It had been in Sakand, hadn't it? Roy had chased a spice seller all across town, and Uncle Roarin had done...something or other. Roy wasn't sure, to be honest. His uncle didn't really do much, as far as he knew. The man sure had a lot of kids, though...Roxanne didn't seem to like him very much, as far as Roy remembered.
"How did you meet Uncle Roarin? Was he drunk? He was probably drunk."
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Thalric Dale, Paladin
Committed
Roleplay posts: 60
Age: 37
Physical Description: -----------------------
https://i.pinimg.com/564x/03/23/85/032385d1c3ab6a89c0e2d020f99079e6.jpg
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One would think that the tall fellow, some inches over six feet in height, would be intimidating. The scars on his face, the blinded left eye, the battered full plate armor and beaten shield. He has a warrior's physique, though he does not have the hulking mass one would attribute to paragons of battle.
The gentle smile wipes any doubts away.
Thalric moves with militant readiness, those habits deep in his bones. His coal black hair and sky blue eye mark his as a commoner, though he has long since lost the lower-class accent to something middling, bridging the gap between merchant elite and nobility.
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Clothes and Equipment: Blessed Longsword // Holy sword
Enchanted Plate Armor and Steel Shield // Improved sturdiness and resilience against weapons
Enchanted Dire Wolf Cloak // Grants protection (not immunity) from the cold
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Player's online availability : Mornings, mostly. Early afternoons.
Registered: Aug 30, 2017 12:21:32 GMT -8
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Post by Thalric Dale, Paladin on Aug 31, 2017 6:30:58 GMT -8
The patrons could hear him approach before they saw him open the door; the steady clanking of steel, muted by the wooden door. He was a of a height to fill the doorway, his helmet tucked under an armored arm, the cloak tossed over his shoulder, a shield slung over his back. The old armor was well cared for, despite how battered it looked, scuffed and well-worn, covered in road dust so that it did not shine where it was not tarnished.
His black hair, too, was matted with a sheen of dust and sweat, only the first signs of grey at his temples beneath the grime. The man moved with some measure of fatigue, relief and perhaps a touch of stiffness; he kept his left arm close to his body and a cut on his scarred brow had long since scabbed over, most of the blood washed from his face despite some of it lingering. Still, he moved with enough will and energy that he did not seem threatened with falling over. In fact, he offered the patrons he walked by and the owners of the establishment a polite smile and nod before finding a sturdy chair nearby to sit on with a pleased sigh.
He had a presence to him, a tangible aura that cloaked him and the area around him with a sense of calm, more than magical in nature; it touched the soul rather than changed the mind like magic would. To those savvy in the ways of magic or the divine, this was a holy gift bestowed upon him by a divine power, not an item or spell.
Patiently, he waited for the innkeepers or the patrons to approach, not wishing to disrupt their goings on and more than happy to rest his weary feet for a time.
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Edith Arn Caster
Established
Roleplay posts: 33
Age: 56
Physical Description: A short woman of only five foot four inches. Her weight is a healthyone. Her once brown hair has turned silver, and warm brown eyes hold compassion for nearly everyone she mets.
Registered: Jul 23, 2017 13:56:26 GMT -8
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Post by Edith Arn Caster on Aug 31, 2017 10:37:02 GMT -8
( The Black One) ( Rickard "Ripper" Flint) (@ thalricdale) Edith' smile broadened as the wee thing started playing with the food. A good sign that. She nodded at Rippers words. " Aye , likely just needs a rest, I don't intend ta keep the we thing." A content sigh escaped her lips as she bounced the dragon as she might a babe. Flinn shook his head exhaling a held breath. The aging inn keeper sat down his own tankard as the door opened. A delighted smile found its way to his face, laced with a bit of concern though. He hobbled over to better address the man who had just walked through the door. " Well met stranger,, I'm Flinn owner of this 'ere inn ;ya look a tad tired. Something I can help ya with? A drink mayhaps ? Hot meal, we just put supper on not long ago. 'tater bacon soup and fresh bread." He presented his spiel with a practiced smile ,leaning on the counter between the two of them.
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Hester Fairweather
Committed
Roleplay posts: 51
Age: 25
Physical Description: A young woman, fairly tall standing five foot nine inches, and weighs a hair over one hundred and forty pounds. Her eyes are a striking brown and her hair a dirty red.
She has fair features and would be considered lovely to more than a few.
Yet this simple bard has many secretes... some grim. Sometimes , she could be found staring at the distance, with an expression of sorrow and anger.
Registered: Jul 23, 2017 14:03:19 GMT -8
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Post by Hester Fairweather on Aug 31, 2017 10:47:27 GMT -8
( Thalric Dale, Paladin ) ( Miroell ) Having been ignored by the old wife Hester rolled her eyes and proceed with her task. Upon hearing the door open she let out a sigh... Careful what you wished for... She quickened her step. As if one cue by Flinn Hester passed through the kitchen door, the aroma of rosemary mingled with the sweet smell of baked bread followed wake as she wandered through carrying a pitcher of water. An apple cheeked smile made its way to her face as she made eye contact with the man flinn was speaking with, though it was hard to say if it was a genuine smile with how quickly it melted into indifference as she moved along. The red haired bard came to Miroell's table and placed the a clean glass before her, filling it promptly with chilled water. "'ayu shay' akhr?" She asked with an expectant smile. "Taeam?"
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Thalric Dale, Paladin
Committed
Roleplay posts: 60
Age: 37
Physical Description: -----------------------
https://i.pinimg.com/564x/03/23/85/032385d1c3ab6a89c0e2d020f99079e6.jpg
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One would think that the tall fellow, some inches over six feet in height, would be intimidating. The scars on his face, the blinded left eye, the battered full plate armor and beaten shield. He has a warrior's physique, though he does not have the hulking mass one would attribute to paragons of battle.
The gentle smile wipes any doubts away.
Thalric moves with militant readiness, those habits deep in his bones. His coal black hair and sky blue eye mark his as a commoner, though he has long since lost the lower-class accent to something middling, bridging the gap between merchant elite and nobility.
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Clothes and Equipment: Blessed Longsword // Holy sword
Enchanted Plate Armor and Steel Shield // Improved sturdiness and resilience against weapons
Enchanted Dire Wolf Cloak // Grants protection (not immunity) from the cold
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Player's online availability : Mornings, mostly. Early afternoons.
Registered: Aug 30, 2017 12:21:32 GMT -8
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Post by Thalric Dale, Paladin on Aug 31, 2017 10:47:34 GMT -8
The paladin gave a weary, but warm, chuckle and bowed his head to Flinn. "Hail and well met then, Master Flinn. Bowl of that soup would be perfect. Some water would suffice for now, and if a room could be prepared, I'll need some hot water to clean my injuries and my effects, please," he replied, fishing out a handful of coins to put on the table, if only for the food and drink first.
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