Fenrir Skargard
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 196
Age: 29
Physical Description: Fenrir is a large Arctic Werewolf, with fur as white as the snow that plagues his habitat. His paws and muzzle are stained a slight pinkish color from the bloody nature of his food, primarily Caribou and Mountain Seal. His yellow eyes are predatory, and would be terrifying to see in the darkness of a cave or blizzard. He stands roughly 7ft tall, and weighs nearly 300lbs. His fur, claws, and teeth are immaculately well-maintained, as the Wolf believes that keeping oneself clean is foremost in respecting another, for if you do not respect yourself, you cannot respect others.
Clothes and Equipment: He wields the mighty sword White Fang, a Frost-Enchanted Sword he took from the lifeless corpse of a White Witch whom had promised him the sword, then tried to kill him with. The sword, imbued with the blood of the witch, gives him abilities similar to hers, mainly focusing on cold and frost related abilities. His legs are covered by plate armor, and his left arm is covered in a gauntlet with fingers ending in wicked looking claws. The gauntlet is inscribed with more Frost Runes, giving it similar, albeit less powerful, abilities to White Fang.
Registered: May 30, 2016 8:38:38 GMT -8
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Post by Fenrir Skargard on Dec 17, 2017 14:44:40 GMT -8
She watched Fenrir take the dainty tea cup and smiled a little to herself at how polite he was, so much more so than he'd been outside on the bridge. The sofa he sat on groaned a little beneath his weight, but otherwise did not seem to give him any trouble. Then, he spoke, and she listened. " Yes, well, it is not generally a place for wanderers, such as yourself," Wyllonia said between sips of her hot tea. " I find it very curious how you present yourself, Mr. Skargard. Adrift, exiled, failure, missing. Your perception of yourself may be inhibiting your purpose. Nevertheless, I am here to help you, although I am not sure if I can truly answer any questions you have. What sort of purpose do you need?" She was very direct, very honest, and yet still, very warm, very friendly. A woman you could trust. Fenrir trusted very few people, and while he got the impression that she was worthy of trust, it would take a lot more than that. Actions spoke far louder than words amongst his people, and exiled as he was, he still shared the same beliefs. "I speak only the truth as I see it, and how it happened. I have accepted the past, and my own part in it for what it is. I seek new purpose in my life...of what kind I am not sure." The wolf gestures with his free paw towards his armored body, the massive blade that is sheathed at his hip. "But if I had to take a guess...it wouldn't involve basketweaving."
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: May 2, 2024 8:19:44 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Dec 18, 2017 21:03:57 GMT -8
"Mm, perhaps basketweaving is the sort of thing you need given your regretable purpose before," Wyllonia said, then paused to drink more tea. She held the cup out, and her delicate service floated up to refill her cup. "Well, Mr. Skargard, if you can't answer that question, then I'm not sure how I can. However, I can give you a job while we think on the answer," the sunshine blonde which told the wolf man sitting across from her.
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Fenrir Skargard
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 196
Age: 29
Physical Description: Fenrir is a large Arctic Werewolf, with fur as white as the snow that plagues his habitat. His paws and muzzle are stained a slight pinkish color from the bloody nature of his food, primarily Caribou and Mountain Seal. His yellow eyes are predatory, and would be terrifying to see in the darkness of a cave or blizzard. He stands roughly 7ft tall, and weighs nearly 300lbs. His fur, claws, and teeth are immaculately well-maintained, as the Wolf believes that keeping oneself clean is foremost in respecting another, for if you do not respect yourself, you cannot respect others.
Clothes and Equipment: He wields the mighty sword White Fang, a Frost-Enchanted Sword he took from the lifeless corpse of a White Witch whom had promised him the sword, then tried to kill him with. The sword, imbued with the blood of the witch, gives him abilities similar to hers, mainly focusing on cold and frost related abilities. His legs are covered by plate armor, and his left arm is covered in a gauntlet with fingers ending in wicked looking claws. The gauntlet is inscribed with more Frost Runes, giving it similar, albeit less powerful, abilities to White Fang.
Registered: May 30, 2016 8:38:38 GMT -8
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Post by Fenrir Skargard on Dec 22, 2017 7:00:48 GMT -8
" Mm, perhaps basketweaving is the sort of thing you need given your regretable purpose before," Wyllonia said, then paused to drink more tea. She held the cup out, and her delicate service floated up to refill her cup. " Well, Mr. Skargard, if you can't answer that question, then I'm not sure how I can. However, I can give you a job while we think on the answer," the sunshine blonde which told the wolf man sitting across from her. "Perhaps you are right, but I am also restless by nature, and the finer points of basketweaving continue to allude me." He finished his own tea before responding, waving off the tea pot before it could refill his cup. "That would suffice for now. A job has purpose to it after all. What did you have in mind?"
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: May 2, 2024 8:19:44 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Jan 2, 2018 16:53:55 GMT -8
"Oh my, oh my, what a useless mother," Esper said as she flittered around Ramona, taking measurements -- including how long it was from the girl's forehead to her nose. "That's what I said, too," Winnie said from where she sat, poking at things. The little mouse on the counter sadly shook her head, sitting up on two feet as she looked at Roseanne Fletcher with softened eyes. "I think I know just the hat for you," Esper said and with a snap of her tailor's tape, it rolled up as if it were a carpet, then popped from existence. She turned and began to climb one of the rickety old ladders and pulled out one box. She blew dust off the lid and pulled it out -- ROOOOOOOAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRThe growl shook the room and made dust and plaster fall from the ceiling of the hatter's room, while the mouse hid in a bunch of ribbons. Ingeharde the Rabbit's nose twitched and ears stood up, as if interested in the beastial sound that was quickly cut off when Esper put the lid back on. "No, no, not that one, not that one. Hmmm..." One leg kicked up, her skirts shuffling and swaying as she began to pick through hat boxes -- large, small, red and blue, frilly and plain, old and new, so many hat boxes, so many to see, but which one was Roseanne's -- which one would it be?
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: May 2, 2024 8:19:44 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Jan 2, 2018 17:39:06 GMT -8
Wyllonia tilted her head a little as she looked at Fenrir Skargard. "I can sense magic about you. Do you perhaps wield it yourself?" she asked, an inquisitive brow arching on her face as she held her dainty tea-cup in her hand. The tea pot that had been trying to refill Fenrir's cup blushed with hanger and let out a puff of hot air from its spout, its handle looking like a sassy hand placed on a hip. It turned away, as if giving Fenrir the "cold" shoulder and went back to its silver tray. The creamer and the sugar dish did the same thing, settling down with aplomb.
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Fenrir Skargard
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 196
Age: 29
Physical Description: Fenrir is a large Arctic Werewolf, with fur as white as the snow that plagues his habitat. His paws and muzzle are stained a slight pinkish color from the bloody nature of his food, primarily Caribou and Mountain Seal. His yellow eyes are predatory, and would be terrifying to see in the darkness of a cave or blizzard. He stands roughly 7ft tall, and weighs nearly 300lbs. His fur, claws, and teeth are immaculately well-maintained, as the Wolf believes that keeping oneself clean is foremost in respecting another, for if you do not respect yourself, you cannot respect others.
Clothes and Equipment: He wields the mighty sword White Fang, a Frost-Enchanted Sword he took from the lifeless corpse of a White Witch whom had promised him the sword, then tried to kill him with. The sword, imbued with the blood of the witch, gives him abilities similar to hers, mainly focusing on cold and frost related abilities. His legs are covered by plate armor, and his left arm is covered in a gauntlet with fingers ending in wicked looking claws. The gauntlet is inscribed with more Frost Runes, giving it similar, albeit less powerful, abilities to White Fang.
Registered: May 30, 2016 8:38:38 GMT -8
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Post by Fenrir Skargard on Jan 8, 2018 13:04:43 GMT -8
Wyllonia tilted her head a little as she looked at Fenrir Skargard . "I can sense magic about you. Do you perhaps wield it yourself?" she asked, an inquisitive brow arching on her face as she held her dainty tea-cup in her hand. The tea pot that had been trying to refill Fenrir's cup blushed with hanger and let out a puff of hot air from its spout, its handle looking like a sassy hand placed on a hip. It turned away, as if giving Fenrir the "cold" shoulder and went back to its silver tray. The creamer and the sugar dish did the same thing, settling down with aplomb. Fenrir ignored the teapot at this point, noting its rather sassy disposition. Likely a similarity with the denizens of this castle he mused. "I do indeed wield it myself." Runes on the metal arm lit up, the room beginning to suddenly drop in temperature before the glowing stopped and the temperature returned to normal. "Mostly ice and cold magic, but there are a few other passive effects that exist."
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: May 2, 2024 8:19:44 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Jan 11, 2018 17:20:33 GMT -8
"Well, Mr. Skarsgard, I believe I have my answer," Wyllonia said, rising from her seat after his show of temperature drop.
She moved to the bookshelf and traced her fingertips over their spines, the names of the volumes illuminating themselves in gold before she passed by and pulled one out.
"Aha," she called delightedly, and pulled the book out. It fell open to exactly the page she needed -- blank -- and she held the book out to him.
"Sign at the bottom, if you please," Wyllonia said to him with a smile as elegantly written text began to appear. "All teachers are Loxnighton must do so, of course. And you'll be on a by-luna basis, assuredly. I would like you to begin as our Defense Against the Mundane professor. Mortals are so tricky these days."
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Fenrir Skargard
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 196
Age: 29
Physical Description: Fenrir is a large Arctic Werewolf, with fur as white as the snow that plagues his habitat. His paws and muzzle are stained a slight pinkish color from the bloody nature of his food, primarily Caribou and Mountain Seal. His yellow eyes are predatory, and would be terrifying to see in the darkness of a cave or blizzard. He stands roughly 7ft tall, and weighs nearly 300lbs. His fur, claws, and teeth are immaculately well-maintained, as the Wolf believes that keeping oneself clean is foremost in respecting another, for if you do not respect yourself, you cannot respect others.
Clothes and Equipment: He wields the mighty sword White Fang, a Frost-Enchanted Sword he took from the lifeless corpse of a White Witch whom had promised him the sword, then tried to kill him with. The sword, imbued with the blood of the witch, gives him abilities similar to hers, mainly focusing on cold and frost related abilities. His legs are covered by plate armor, and his left arm is covered in a gauntlet with fingers ending in wicked looking claws. The gauntlet is inscribed with more Frost Runes, giving it similar, albeit less powerful, abilities to White Fang.
Registered: May 30, 2016 8:38:38 GMT -8
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Post by Fenrir Skargard on Jan 12, 2018 12:51:01 GMT -8
"Well, Mr. Skarsgard, I believe I have my answer," Wyllonia said, rising from her seat after his show of temperature drop. She moved to the bookshelf and traced her fingertips over their spines, the names of the volumes illuminating themselves in gold before she passed by and pulled one out. "Aha," she called delightedly, and pulled the book out. It fell open to exactly the page she needed -- blank -- and she held the book out to him. "Sign at the bottom, if you please," Wyllonia said to him with a smile as elegantly written text began to appear. "All teachers are Loxnighton must do so, of course. And you'll be on a by-luna basis, assuredly. I would like you to begin as our Defense Against the Mundane professor. Mortals are so tricky these days." Fenrir looks at the book with text, taking a moment to read it and ensure that there was nothing in there involving forfeiting any part of his body or soul, and once assured such things were not in the contract, he extended a single claw from his metallic arm and drew his signature there. The ink that was left behind was an icy blue that simmered faintly. "Defense against the Mundane eh? Sounds right up my alley. When do I start?"
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: May 2, 2024 8:19:44 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Jan 12, 2018 14:46:42 GMT -8
"Yes, it is a relatively new school of magic that we are still making progress on. One of my former students, Rosamond Fletcher, is currently our lead witch on the case.
You, however, would be taking a more physical role when it comes to the girls," Wyllonia said as she took the book from him. He signed a standard teacher's contract by Luna, the sort of stuff one might expect for teaching around a bunch of underaged girls.
"Rosamond?" Wyllonia called lightly as she moved toward her ornate and feminine desk, and a large, pretty mirror swirled to life to show a picture of a lovely woman, white of hair and with a crow on her shoulder, pausing in a lesson to a group full of girls.
"Yes, Mother Wyllonia?" Rosamond asked.
"When your class has ended, can I please have your attendance in my office?" Wyllonia asked, settling delicate glasses upon the bridge of her nose as her chair swept back on it's own for the statuesque blonde to sit, then came in seamlessly.
"Yes, of course. We'll be done in a few minutes," Rosamond said, glancing curiously at the wolfman in the room, then turning and shooing away the girls who were staring at the male seated in the castle.
The mirror became a reflection once again.
"The world is such a dangerous place, and I fear that it is only becoming more so. Still, it is beautiful, and worth loving and protecting, so my sister's must be prepared. Of course, not all of them will qualify to face off against you, and I expect that you will come up with a fair but challenging beginner's test of aptitude." Wyllonia looked over the rim of her spectacles at Fenris, large and imposing and an impossible clash against the faint flowers and lace of her office. "Wouldn't you agree?"
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Fenrir Skargard
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 196
Age: 29
Physical Description: Fenrir is a large Arctic Werewolf, with fur as white as the snow that plagues his habitat. His paws and muzzle are stained a slight pinkish color from the bloody nature of his food, primarily Caribou and Mountain Seal. His yellow eyes are predatory, and would be terrifying to see in the darkness of a cave or blizzard. He stands roughly 7ft tall, and weighs nearly 300lbs. His fur, claws, and teeth are immaculately well-maintained, as the Wolf believes that keeping oneself clean is foremost in respecting another, for if you do not respect yourself, you cannot respect others.
Clothes and Equipment: He wields the mighty sword White Fang, a Frost-Enchanted Sword he took from the lifeless corpse of a White Witch whom had promised him the sword, then tried to kill him with. The sword, imbued with the blood of the witch, gives him abilities similar to hers, mainly focusing on cold and frost related abilities. His legs are covered by plate armor, and his left arm is covered in a gauntlet with fingers ending in wicked looking claws. The gauntlet is inscribed with more Frost Runes, giving it similar, albeit less powerful, abilities to White Fang.
Registered: May 30, 2016 8:38:38 GMT -8
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Post by Fenrir Skargard on Jan 14, 2018 10:54:09 GMT -8
"The world grows more dangerous every day. My people's legends speak of a time when the world was far worse though...I hope we are not returning to such times." He says softly.
Fenrir rested a single paw on the haft of his blade, considering her offer, his mind already pondering how the hell he would teach in a classroom.
"I shall, of course, hold back, or you would have few students left Wyllonia. Am I teaching them how to defend themselves from those who wield no magic? Or am I teaching them how to fight in such a manner, followed by teaching them how to blend both physical combat with magical power?"
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: May 2, 2024 8:19:44 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Jan 14, 2018 11:23:48 GMT -8
"You, Professor Skargard," Wyllonia said with a little smile as she opened a book and picked up an elegant, white-feathered quill, "will be teaching our witches how best to defend and attack without the use of magic -- even if magic is used against them, or even if it is not. Professor Fletcher, whom you saw in the mirror, will take care of teaching them the methods for using magic in ways not completely negated by the... antimagic availability that seems to be growing in number year after year."
Her gaze dropped to her work as she wrote and researched, but she was still speaking to him from where she sat behind her desk, perfectly picturesque with the garden behind the charming window at her back, sun gleaming off her golden hair and the pink, well-made clothes on her body.
"We are also the guardians of the village below, whom told you to come to us. They keep our secret, and we make sure to keep the roaming monsters of these mountains away from their main crops and their homes." She looked up at him. "I suppose I can count on you to help in moments of... distress?"
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Roseanne Fletcher
Established
Roleplay posts: 15
Age: 11
Registered: Jul 25, 2017 20:32:00 GMT -8
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Post by Roseanne Fletcher on Jan 14, 2018 23:29:47 GMT -8
"Ramona" jumped in her seat as whatever-it-was roared in the hat box. What on earth that box? Also, would she ever get a chance to set the record straight about her name? She wasn't sure. Perhaps she'd simply be known by a slew of R names for the rest of her time here...she looked over at the little mouse, hoping that it would give her some indication of which hat would be hers, but found no answers in the twitching whiskers. She watched as hat after hat was pulled out of box after box, but none of them appealed to her...until she spotted one. It was a very wide hat indeed, dark purple with a black ribbon tied in a bow. She pointed to it, voice trembling as she spoke. After all, weren't people her age supposed to be seen and not heard, spoken only when spoken to? However, if she waited, that wonderful hat might be buried under a pile of dusty bonnets and flashy feathers.
"That one. I'd like to try that one on, please. The purple one, with the bow."
Somehow, just by seeing it, she knew that it would fit her perfectly. Had it been made for her? That was impossible, she'd only just arrived...
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Fenrir Skargard
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 196
Age: 29
Physical Description: Fenrir is a large Arctic Werewolf, with fur as white as the snow that plagues his habitat. His paws and muzzle are stained a slight pinkish color from the bloody nature of his food, primarily Caribou and Mountain Seal. His yellow eyes are predatory, and would be terrifying to see in the darkness of a cave or blizzard. He stands roughly 7ft tall, and weighs nearly 300lbs. His fur, claws, and teeth are immaculately well-maintained, as the Wolf believes that keeping oneself clean is foremost in respecting another, for if you do not respect yourself, you cannot respect others.
Clothes and Equipment: He wields the mighty sword White Fang, a Frost-Enchanted Sword he took from the lifeless corpse of a White Witch whom had promised him the sword, then tried to kill him with. The sword, imbued with the blood of the witch, gives him abilities similar to hers, mainly focusing on cold and frost related abilities. His legs are covered by plate armor, and his left arm is covered in a gauntlet with fingers ending in wicked looking claws. The gauntlet is inscribed with more Frost Runes, giving it similar, albeit less powerful, abilities to White Fang.
Registered: May 30, 2016 8:38:38 GMT -8
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Post by Fenrir Skargard on Jan 17, 2018 17:04:01 GMT -8
"You, Professor Skargard," Wyllonia said with a little smile as she opened a book and picked up an elegant, white-feathered quill, "will be teaching our witches how best to defend and attack without the use of magic -- even if magic is used against them, or even if it is not. Professor Fletcher, whom you saw in the mirror, will take care of teaching them the methods for using magic in ways not completely negated by the... antimagic availability that seems to be growing in number year after year." Her gaze dropped to her work as she wrote and researched, but she was still speaking to him from where she sat behind her desk, perfectly picturesque with the garden behind the charming window at her back, sun gleaming off her golden hair and the pink, well-made clothes on her body. "We are also the guardians of the village below, whom told you to come to us. They keep our secret, and we make sure to keep the roaming monsters of these mountains away from their main crops and their homes." She looked up at him. "I suppose I can count on you to help in moments of... distress?" A wide grin crept across his muzzle at the mention of monster-slaying. "I would be delighted to. Professor Skargard eh? It's got a nice ring to it. I have certainly been called worse. When is my first class?" He asked, oblivious or uncaring (or both) to the picturesque view before him.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: May 2, 2024 8:19:44 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Feb 4, 2018 9:38:58 GMT -8
"Shortly, I imagine," Wyllonia answered in a wry and amused tone, glancing up from her desk to look across the distance at the wolfman. He was rather barbaric in appearance. Intimidating.
The golden blonde witch mother had a feeling that his appearance might be taken in hand, but also sensed from him that he had no intentions of being tamed.
"Rosamond is just about to open the door," Wyllonia said, dabbing her long quill in an ink well. "She will, no doubt, have much to say. Her specialization is in contracts and charm," Wyllonia added on as she swirled her signature at the bottom of a piece of parchment.
"I expect good things from you, Professor Skarsgard. And good luck in handling the girls."
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: May 2, 2024 8:19:44 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Feb 4, 2018 9:49:26 GMT -8
Rosamond's knock was on Wyllonia's office door right on schedule -- but then, all of Wyllonia's life was right on schedule.
She stepped inside, all silver white hair and pale blue eyes, a dark crow sitting on her shoulder. She wore a long black coat, cinched at her tiny waist with a fashionable belt, and she friend slightly to see Fenrir.
She bowed her head to Wyllonia. "You had wanted to see me?" She asked the Witch mother.
"Yes," Wyllonia answered, not lifting her head, "This is Fenrir Skarsgard, he has accepted a position at the academy for Defense Against the Mundane, as well as Captain of our security watch. I would like you to get him acclimated and settled in, show him around Loxnighton, please. Thank you, Rosamond."
And that... Was that. It left Rosamond obviously speechless, her pretty mouth parting in shock.
"But he's a... I'm sorry, a professor?" Rosamond questioned.
"Indeed, and he's already signed the wonderful contracts you have crafted for the coven," Wyllonia answered, lifting her head to grace the wolf and the witch with one of her warm smiles.
"I... See..." Rosamond said with another frown. Clearly, she doubted Fenrir, but in what regard wasn't clear.
"Thank you, Rosamond. Please report to me on Professor Fenrir's work. I am sure you will find things to inform on." And Wyllonia bent her head to her task again.
Rosamond's frown deepened but she nodding her head and stepped back into the hall, waiting for Fenrir to follow. When he did, the door to Wyllonia's office snapped closed as if a Butler had promptly shown them out... And the door disappeared into the wall, replaced with a handsome landscape of a garden -- the same one visible from Wyllonia's window inside.
Rosamond's arms crossed beneath her breasts as her expression turned slightly hostile. For all that Fenrir towered over her, she did not at all seem afraid.
"You don't look like a professor at all," she remarked tartly.
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Fenrir Skargard
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 196
Age: 29
Physical Description: Fenrir is a large Arctic Werewolf, with fur as white as the snow that plagues his habitat. His paws and muzzle are stained a slight pinkish color from the bloody nature of his food, primarily Caribou and Mountain Seal. His yellow eyes are predatory, and would be terrifying to see in the darkness of a cave or blizzard. He stands roughly 7ft tall, and weighs nearly 300lbs. His fur, claws, and teeth are immaculately well-maintained, as the Wolf believes that keeping oneself clean is foremost in respecting another, for if you do not respect yourself, you cannot respect others.
Clothes and Equipment: He wields the mighty sword White Fang, a Frost-Enchanted Sword he took from the lifeless corpse of a White Witch whom had promised him the sword, then tried to kill him with. The sword, imbued with the blood of the witch, gives him abilities similar to hers, mainly focusing on cold and frost related abilities. His legs are covered by plate armor, and his left arm is covered in a gauntlet with fingers ending in wicked looking claws. The gauntlet is inscribed with more Frost Runes, giving it similar, albeit less powerful, abilities to White Fang.
Registered: May 30, 2016 8:38:38 GMT -8
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Post by Fenrir Skargard on Feb 4, 2018 13:51:03 GMT -8
Fenrir gave a curt nod as an acknowledgement and stepped out, hardly surprised at the hostile tone he received from the woman before him.
"I only became one about a minute ago. It takes some getting used to." He said, trying to keep his tone friendly.
"I believe there was mention of showing me around?"
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: May 2, 2024 8:19:44 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Feb 6, 2018 18:38:29 GMT -8
Rosamond didn't move, and the crow on her shoulder slightly ruffled its wings.
"You'll forgive me if I question why a male, like you, has come sniffing around a coven of women?" Rosamond asked, her tone almost as frosty as Fenrir's magic. "You didn't find us on accident, and I find your sudden appearance here not only odd, but suspect."
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Fenrir Skargard
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 196
Age: 29
Physical Description: Fenrir is a large Arctic Werewolf, with fur as white as the snow that plagues his habitat. His paws and muzzle are stained a slight pinkish color from the bloody nature of his food, primarily Caribou and Mountain Seal. His yellow eyes are predatory, and would be terrifying to see in the darkness of a cave or blizzard. He stands roughly 7ft tall, and weighs nearly 300lbs. His fur, claws, and teeth are immaculately well-maintained, as the Wolf believes that keeping oneself clean is foremost in respecting another, for if you do not respect yourself, you cannot respect others.
Clothes and Equipment: He wields the mighty sword White Fang, a Frost-Enchanted Sword he took from the lifeless corpse of a White Witch whom had promised him the sword, then tried to kill him with. The sword, imbued with the blood of the witch, gives him abilities similar to hers, mainly focusing on cold and frost related abilities. His legs are covered by plate armor, and his left arm is covered in a gauntlet with fingers ending in wicked looking claws. The gauntlet is inscribed with more Frost Runes, giving it similar, albeit less powerful, abilities to White Fang.
Registered: May 30, 2016 8:38:38 GMT -8
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Post by Fenrir Skargard on Feb 8, 2018 7:38:03 GMT -8
Fenrir snorted in what could only be attributed to laughter at the ridiculous notion.
"And what precisely is wrong with being a male? I did not come here to teach, I came here seeking advice. That this castle is inhabited solely by women was not something I expected...nor something I particularly care about. The head of the Coven offered me a teaching position and I took it, having little else to do at the moment and it being something I have yet to do."
He paused for a moment before adding, "if you have a problem with it, perhaps we should step back inside and ask her about it?"
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: May 2, 2024 8:19:44 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Mar 23, 2018 10:04:06 GMT -8
"Uh huh," Rosamond said, clearly not believing a word he said. "Not something you expected, sure." He mentioned speaking to Wyllonia about her issues, but the door to the office was gone. It had moved somewhere else within these stone walls, probably hidden as the head witch didn't want to be disturbed at the moment.
Rosamond turned on the heel of her boot. "I'll show you to your room, then. Unless you don't plan on sleeping in the castle?" She paused at the question to glance back at him, her silver-white hair swaying. Fletcher looks, indeed.
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Fenrir Skargard
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 196
Age: 29
Physical Description: Fenrir is a large Arctic Werewolf, with fur as white as the snow that plagues his habitat. His paws and muzzle are stained a slight pinkish color from the bloody nature of his food, primarily Caribou and Mountain Seal. His yellow eyes are predatory, and would be terrifying to see in the darkness of a cave or blizzard. He stands roughly 7ft tall, and weighs nearly 300lbs. His fur, claws, and teeth are immaculately well-maintained, as the Wolf believes that keeping oneself clean is foremost in respecting another, for if you do not respect yourself, you cannot respect others.
Clothes and Equipment: He wields the mighty sword White Fang, a Frost-Enchanted Sword he took from the lifeless corpse of a White Witch whom had promised him the sword, then tried to kill him with. The sword, imbued with the blood of the witch, gives him abilities similar to hers, mainly focusing on cold and frost related abilities. His legs are covered by plate armor, and his left arm is covered in a gauntlet with fingers ending in wicked looking claws. The gauntlet is inscribed with more Frost Runes, giving it similar, albeit less powerful, abilities to White Fang.
Registered: May 30, 2016 8:38:38 GMT -8
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Post by Fenrir Skargard on Mar 23, 2018 10:22:22 GMT -8
"I have already had a mate...and lived long enough to see both her and our pups die. I do not care to repeat the experience again." He said, the air around them chilling uncomfortably.
"I would appreciate being shown to my quarters, Miss Fletcher."
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