Svert Vulfsurd
New
Roleplay posts: 6
Physical Description: Svert is, on first glance, a seemingly average human man with a streak for rebelliousness and drinking. He's a well-trained combatant but he's also not half bad as a leader and strategist, hence why he was chosen to be commander of The Border Land's garrison. Unfortunately, as with all recruits 'selected' for the assignment, one can get the feeling from Svert that there is a dark and hidden story that led to him being moved away from the front-line where he was originally stationed, though he'll avoid the issue if brought up.
Another reason for his position as commander is without a doubt his family, the Vulfsurds, who through his mother he is second in line to be patriarch of. The Vulfsurds are capable warriors and merchants, with a noble tradition in both the military and as traders. Most believe that it was his family's money that got him his commission, something he isn't sure but is resentful of. Svert's father died when he was an infant and Svert now wears his father's ring.
Svert has an unusual and unfortunate tendency to get into trouble, and unholy beings such as vampires and demonic creatures seem to be strangely attracted to him.
Registered: Dec 3, 2017 15:35:25 GMT -8
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Post by Svert Vulfsurd on Dec 15, 2017 12:49:57 GMT -8
(Is Zavius Blackbriar still around? ) The guards in the camp didn't seem to notice @lordtakans, what with Svert climbing into a tent and the other two who had been there originally either keeping watch in the other direction or taking up the duty of making sure the hog was properly roasted before they could eat.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: May 2, 2024 19:12:56 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Dec 16, 2017 2:14:45 GMT -8
(I'll take that as a signal for me to leave)
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Svert Vulfsurd
New
Roleplay posts: 6
Physical Description: Svert is, on first glance, a seemingly average human man with a streak for rebelliousness and drinking. He's a well-trained combatant but he's also not half bad as a leader and strategist, hence why he was chosen to be commander of The Border Land's garrison. Unfortunately, as with all recruits 'selected' for the assignment, one can get the feeling from Svert that there is a dark and hidden story that led to him being moved away from the front-line where he was originally stationed, though he'll avoid the issue if brought up.
Another reason for his position as commander is without a doubt his family, the Vulfsurds, who through his mother he is second in line to be patriarch of. The Vulfsurds are capable warriors and merchants, with a noble tradition in both the military and as traders. Most believe that it was his family's money that got him his commission, something he isn't sure but is resentful of. Svert's father died when he was an infant and Svert now wears his father's ring.
Svert has an unusual and unfortunate tendency to get into trouble, and unholy beings such as vampires and demonic creatures seem to be strangely attracted to him.
Registered: Dec 3, 2017 15:35:25 GMT -8
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Post by Svert Vulfsurd on Dec 16, 2017 3:56:50 GMT -8
(You're not giving me anything to work with. Your character seems completely intent to just stay by herself brooding. It doesn't make sense for all my guys to just drop everything they're doing to go after some random woman they've not even seen for no reason. Tenszar left because he clearly wasn't getting anywhere with her in terms of interaction and he knew it - she didn't want him there.)
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: May 2, 2024 19:12:56 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Dec 16, 2017 4:05:38 GMT -8
(Ouch. Sorry.)
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Chesknight
Committed
Roleplay posts: 57
Physical Description: About three and a half feet tall, and rotund. The Chesknight never removes his armor, and has two glowing, amber eyes peeking beneath his helmet. His arms and legs are short, limiting his mobility.
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Clothes and Equipment: Equipped fully in a suit of curious armor seemingly made from large acorns, it holds as fast as any steel. He wears a cloak of leaves, which seems to serve no purpose and wields a sword of amber which seems to function similarly to a normal metal one. He also wears a ring that allows him to discern his location is focused on for about 5 minutes.
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Player's online availability : Frequent
Registered: Dec 8, 2017 19:08:39 GMT -8
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Post by Chesknight on Dec 16, 2017 11:24:09 GMT -8
@almaandnoonoo
Then, communication! And, yet, it was different from what he'd heard before. It wasn't coming from the animal's mouth, as would be normal for him, but directly into his mind. Or, the fey analogue of. The creature was difficult to ascertain, but one thing was certain: "Your master is in trouble?" he asked, rising to his feet once more. He did not bother correcting the creature's exclamation that he was human. Instead, he ploughed on. "What seems to be the problem? Where is your human? I shall do what I can to save them." he told her cheerfully.
"I am the Chesknight, and who might you be?" he asked pleasantly. He supposed whoever this camp belonged to would not mind if he left early. After all, he had left his offering of fruit and berries for them to discover, but it seemed as if this creature was in desperate need.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: May 2, 2024 19:12:56 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Dec 16, 2017 23:54:40 GMT -8
The pup seemed very excited at being understood and pounced forward on his forepaws a bit before spinning after his tail a couple of times - that very tail wagging like mad as he panted, looking ever bit an excited puppy. My human calls me Noo-Noo! She's my Mama! She's stuck in cold ice, biiiiig cold ice, and I can't get her out... The tail would calm down and sink a little bit and the pup took a visible state of sadness as the thought would penetrate the mind of Chesknight. Mama's been stuck there for a long time... I want her back.
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Chesknight
Committed
Roleplay posts: 57
Physical Description: About three and a half feet tall, and rotund. The Chesknight never removes his armor, and has two glowing, amber eyes peeking beneath his helmet. His arms and legs are short, limiting his mobility.
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Clothes and Equipment: Equipped fully in a suit of curious armor seemingly made from large acorns, it holds as fast as any steel. He wears a cloak of leaves, which seems to serve no purpose and wields a sword of amber which seems to function similarly to a normal metal one. He also wears a ring that allows him to discern his location is focused on for about 5 minutes.
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Player's online availability : Frequent
Registered: Dec 8, 2017 19:08:39 GMT -8
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Post by Chesknight on Dec 18, 2017 17:55:49 GMT -8
Listening carefully to the dog's story, he stroked his "chin" in thought. This creature was clearly in distress. Noo-Noo might be a bit noisy, and certainly not an animal, but it did need his help. "I accept your quest." he stated with a nod, placing his hands on his hips. "Let us be on our way to your...mama." With that he began to head out, stepping out of the camp into the trees and looking at the creature. "Which way are we going? Fear not, I need not rest. I need only a destination."
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Zavius Blackbriar
Established
Roleplay posts: 19
Age: 26
Physical Description: Zavius seems rather normal at first glance, with unkempt long and spiky black hair and a short beard along his jawline. His most striking feature on his face would be the long scar running downwards across his eye, ending in the middle of his cheek.
He is six feet tall even, with a well-conditioned build, similar to a soldier’s after a long tour of duty. Often times, he will seem travel-worn as he often does travel, giving him an overall rather ragged look.
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Clothes and Equipment: Zavius will often be seen wearing clothing meant for comfort, travel, and practicality. Often appearing as a proper vagabond he usually wears a set of worn-in leather armor, all of which is tinted a midnight black. Over this, he usually wears a black cloak, which does well to conceal most of his form, except for the similarly black leather boots he wears on his feet. Sheathed at his belt is a dagger, an eight-inch long double-edged blade that tapers to a point made of steel. It has a black leather handle and a rather plain round metal pommel.
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Registered: Nov 29, 2017 17:31:40 GMT -8
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Post by Zavius Blackbriar on Dec 25, 2017 12:20:38 GMT -8
ooc: My bad for not posting recently guys
Zavius looked over Tenszar closely, his face seemed to hold his previous friendly demeanor but his eyes held a predatory glint, like an animal sizing up a potential adversary. It was subtle, yet noticeable if one were to look closely, yet only for a second. Immediately afterward the same cheery mercenary surfaced once again.
"Eh, I reckon if we had that much gold to deal with em, we might as well just take the gold for ourselves and get outta this place."
Zavius fell silent then for a while, only saying goodnight to Zvert as he retired to his tent. His eyes flickered towards the woods around the camp for a moment at one point, as if he heard or saw something before finally stretching out.
He had said he would take the first watch so he figured everyone would fall asleep here soon.
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Vash the Black
Established
Roleplay posts: 40
Age: 15 (About 30 in gnoll years)
Physical Description: A seven-foot-tall, four-hundred pound ball of muscle, fur, and teeth. Vash is a gnoll, a hyena-like humanoid known for their slaving and marauding. His fur, charred by phoenix fire is now blackened. In the thick of battle his eyes have been known to shine red with an inner light of ferocity.
Due to a rather intense run-in with a phoenix, Vash's face and much of his stomach was terribly scared, leaving him with one milky white eye. To cover the melted flesh and exposed bone he wears a metal mask over his face.
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Clothes and Equipment: Vash wears plated metal armor, but little else in the way of adornments. Has been known to occasionally wear trophies of particularly fulfilling battles, but his lack of sentiment and forgetful nature means he often loses or abandons them, leaving farmers and peasants to find gruesome remains at times.
He carries with him a flail he's affectionately called Meteor, which, exposed to great heat, has unleashed new powers. Namely the ability to create a spinning wheel of fire. It also deals additional fire damage with every blow.
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Registered: Dec 3, 2017 22:33:06 GMT -8
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Post by Vash the Black on Mar 19, 2018 20:59:39 GMT -8
Vash's victory had been sweet, and yet short. And, as with all things, victory faded with time. Vash and Khepri had come back, stopping shortly just to shackle her painfully and lead her by a chain tied about her slender throat and attached to a metal shackle-like leash. (In case she tried to fly off. Fool him once, after all.)
Yanking her painfully along, he sought to return to Fort Justice. This was a catch, after all, better to bid her away to some noble and cut out the middleman, as opposed to letting some seller purchase her at cost and give him the runaround. He was concerned with the people in the inn catching up to him, but the chances of them tracking them so far atop horseback was unlikely unless they had dogs and at times he simply picked up Khepri and sped along with her. If they sought him on foot they would simply be too far to find him with conventional methods. Even so he kept his ears pricked for do-gooders and would-be heroes.
The sun had crested the horizon and bathed them in warm light even as they went through the trees. As for the prisoner itself, aside from a few threats he hadn't wasted any time speaking to it or "sampling", despite his...temptations. It was too risky until he was safely inside the walls of his fort and even then, it might ruin her viability for sale. They walked in silence for now, his massive form nearly blocking the road from view as she was forced along behind him.
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Khepri
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 173
Physical Description: Smattered in golden feathers, Khepri glimmers from dawn to dusk. Vast, dark wings spread outward from her broad hips, supporting an otherwise petite frame.
Black hair, straight as a waterfall, surrounds a round face. She has sharp, dangerous eyes that mimic the time of day, plump lips that tell you what you want to hear, and honey-sweet skin to ease her features.
Though the woman seems like a nubile goddess, fingers that end in claws and feet ending in talons do add a frighteningly harsh reality to her image.
When the sun vanishes from the sky, all that is not human about the woman departs, leaving a small, defenseless dame behind.
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Clothes and Equipment: Khepri carries little, save for the string around her neck that holds a round gemstone absorbing sunlight.
When out of sunlight and without the gem, her wings become a heavy cloak.
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Registered: Nov 20, 2017 18:28:46 GMT -8
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Post by Khepri on Mar 21, 2018 20:13:19 GMT -8
For much of the trip, the Bird of Paradise was silenced by shock. A few times she had panicked, squirmed, flapped, screamed. Eventually, she calmed, letting the pit in her stomach sink further and further as she succumbed to her despair.
And yet, as the sun washed over them, a blanket of hope wafted over her body. The tiny, worthless wings that had been spastically twitching at her waist now grew to their full size, twice her height in both directions. Golden feathers and scales glittered among the more numerous, ravenlike down that surrounded them. Her body slimmed, becoming far more fit for flight than the ample human body she'd been given. Soft feet became wicked talons that could end up causing a few nasty gashes. Event he woman's face, her beauty, bloomed within the sun, befitting her title.
Khepri blinked, at first stunned from the transformation. She had given up on changing due to the horrible weather they were having... but at last! She had some power this way!
She turned to stare at Vash, eyes calculating her next move. Would she be able to trick something so ugly and beastlike? She put the horse to sleep. Would that work with the gnoll?
As best she could, the woman began to gather sunlight, conjuring a heavenly light around her to try and entrance the gnoll. The Bird pursed her lips, then began to whistle a lullaby, putting together a hasty attempt to make the gnoll drowsy.
Please, please, please, just drop.
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Vash the Black
Established
Roleplay posts: 40
Age: 15 (About 30 in gnoll years)
Physical Description: A seven-foot-tall, four-hundred pound ball of muscle, fur, and teeth. Vash is a gnoll, a hyena-like humanoid known for their slaving and marauding. His fur, charred by phoenix fire is now blackened. In the thick of battle his eyes have been known to shine red with an inner light of ferocity.
Due to a rather intense run-in with a phoenix, Vash's face and much of his stomach was terribly scared, leaving him with one milky white eye. To cover the melted flesh and exposed bone he wears a metal mask over his face.
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Clothes and Equipment: Vash wears plated metal armor, but little else in the way of adornments. Has been known to occasionally wear trophies of particularly fulfilling battles, but his lack of sentiment and forgetful nature means he often loses or abandons them, leaving farmers and peasants to find gruesome remains at times.
He carries with him a flail he's affectionately called Meteor, which, exposed to great heat, has unleashed new powers. Namely the ability to create a spinning wheel of fire. It also deals additional fire damage with every blow.
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Registered: Dec 3, 2017 22:33:06 GMT -8
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Post by Vash the Black on Mar 21, 2018 21:38:18 GMT -8
For every panic, for every squirm, flap, or scream, Vash had an answer to. Violence and threats of violence. He was not shy of striking her. A superficial blow to the stomach, a bashing of his steel-shod forehead against hers. They lacked no amount of nausea-inducing pain but would leave no lasting scars. Oftentimes, he found that threats worked just as well, especially now that she understood he wasn't shy of meting out his threats.
So far the trail had been relatively quiet. He's transported his prisoners enough to know when to bear down and when to let up. He always kept the threat of harm immediately evident, but not so much so that they thought he might simply kill them. After all, the last thing he wanted was desperation. Too many slavers had found that desperation of that caliber would arouse violence that far outstripped a human filled with dread or most ideally: Despair.
For now, things had been going by in a fairly satisfying manner. Fair weather, quick travelling time, quiet slave and no pursuers in sight. What else could a slaver ask for? It seemed he should have stricken nice weather from his list. The sound of wings was enough to make him stiffen, whipping around and yanking his flail from his belt. Sure enough his worst fears had come to fruition. She looked just as surprised as he did by her sudden change in appearance. It was her who recovered from that shock first, however, and she began whistling.
His ears were sharp, something he'd prided himself upon however this time they served as a detriment. The sound of her music filled his ears and immediately it felt as if someone had wrapped his body in furs. His movements were sluggish and he couldn't shake the sensation that his limbs were made of lead and that he was trying to move through water. Gripping tight the chain that bound them he snarled viciously. Had he been merely a gnoll, no doubt his relatively simple mind may have given into such a spell. Yet Vash had a darker blood that coursed through his veins. The blood and by extension the resistances of demons. Untold millennia Succubi had toyed with his distant forebears and as such they developed a canny resistance to the lure of influencing magic.
He stooped, as if about to collapse (A not entirely inaccurate guess) before suddenly with a mighty vault of his hind legs flung himself at Khepri.
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Khepri
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 173
Physical Description: Smattered in golden feathers, Khepri glimmers from dawn to dusk. Vast, dark wings spread outward from her broad hips, supporting an otherwise petite frame.
Black hair, straight as a waterfall, surrounds a round face. She has sharp, dangerous eyes that mimic the time of day, plump lips that tell you what you want to hear, and honey-sweet skin to ease her features.
Though the woman seems like a nubile goddess, fingers that end in claws and feet ending in talons do add a frighteningly harsh reality to her image.
When the sun vanishes from the sky, all that is not human about the woman departs, leaving a small, defenseless dame behind.
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Clothes and Equipment: Khepri carries little, save for the string around her neck that holds a round gemstone absorbing sunlight.
When out of sunlight and without the gem, her wings become a heavy cloak.
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Registered: Nov 20, 2017 18:28:46 GMT -8
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Post by Khepri on Mar 22, 2018 20:23:44 GMT -8
Watching the gnoll waver, Khepri cheered internally, Yes, yes! It's working. I can leave! I can get back to the i-
The scream that drew itself from Khepri's lips was more animal than human. She held her arms up and fell to the ground, trembling as she waited for the feeling of gnashing teeth as the gnoll tore through her flesh. She hadn't once thought to use her talons, the woman was so helpless.
"No! Nonono, don't!" she whimpered, tears spilling from her eyes. This couldn't be it for her. This couldn't be the end! There was so much she had to accomplish, Gods be damned. Revenge, freedom, inheritance... she had it all waiting for her!
She had it all...
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Vash the Black
Established
Roleplay posts: 40
Age: 15 (About 30 in gnoll years)
Physical Description: A seven-foot-tall, four-hundred pound ball of muscle, fur, and teeth. Vash is a gnoll, a hyena-like humanoid known for their slaving and marauding. His fur, charred by phoenix fire is now blackened. In the thick of battle his eyes have been known to shine red with an inner light of ferocity.
Due to a rather intense run-in with a phoenix, Vash's face and much of his stomach was terribly scared, leaving him with one milky white eye. To cover the melted flesh and exposed bone he wears a metal mask over his face.
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Clothes and Equipment: Vash wears plated metal armor, but little else in the way of adornments. Has been known to occasionally wear trophies of particularly fulfilling battles, but his lack of sentiment and forgetful nature means he often loses or abandons them, leaving farmers and peasants to find gruesome remains at times.
He carries with him a flail he's affectionately called Meteor, which, exposed to great heat, has unleashed new powers. Namely the ability to create a spinning wheel of fire. It also deals additional fire damage with every blow.
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Registered: Dec 3, 2017 22:33:06 GMT -8
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Post by Vash the Black on Mar 22, 2018 21:29:07 GMT -8
Khepri almost received what she most feared. In truth, it was only the thought of riches and the knowledge that where she was sold to would be so much worse to her than merely bleeding out in this dirt. Snapping his jaws inches from her face he poised monstrously over her, eyes glowing with his rage, so all-encompassing as it was.
"Try another trick like that, slave, and I'll have to sell you without vocal cords." he told her viciously before suddenly closing her slender throat in his canine-like jaws. Not hard enough to tear into flesh, but with enough force that it was clear they could, and without much effort. Then, he was on his feet once more Picking her up he began loping along, careful to keep his eye on those sharp talons. She could likely do some damage, if she managed to knick his unarmored parts but he was fairly certain he'd made his point.
{Exit}
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Tinker Fizzbit
Committed
Roleplay posts: 72
Age: 52
Physical Description: Tinker Fizzbit would seem to be a perfectly normal woman in her twenties, with a long, silky brown ponytail and bangs framing her face. That is, she would, were she not approximately three feet tall with slightly pointed ears, and a knack for saying apparently anything that pops into her brain. This pegs her as one of the quirkiest of races: a gnome.
Her voice is high-pitched, yet erudite, speaking to a hidden intelligence beneath all the apparent craziness. She has a pleasant figure and a strong face, with thick eyebrows and a seemingly constant smattering of soot or other assorted explosion biproducts. Despite this, she is miraculously unscarred, somehow escaping all of her failed experiments with nothing but singed eyebrows and a fresh film of soot.
Clothes and Equipment: ============
Tinker generally wears a practical ensemble of baggy clothing made of durable and fireproofed cloth, covered by a protective leather vest with many inner pockets and a pair of knee-length leather boots. About her hip she wears an engineer's toolbelt, with a quiver and various tinkering tools on her left side, and a myriad of multicoloured flasks of various elixirs on her right, most of them highly volatile. When she's experimenting, she wears a set of specialised goggles. They tend to stay atop her forehead when she isn't.
Her weapon of choice is a heavily customised repeating crossbow with various modifications. The crossbow is fed by a circular drum of bolts above a mechanism which automatically launches a bolt and primes another with every pull of the trigger. It also has a very well-calibrated sight, and two valves that spray the bolts with various concoctions with the press of a button. All in all, it is a very advanced weapon.
Registered: Feb 17, 2016 1:50:52 GMT -8
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Post by Tinker Fizzbit on Apr 10, 2018 18:40:28 GMT -8
Julius MarothIt's a warm summer day in the Borderlands. The sun hangs low in the sky, painting the wispy clouds that drift lazily by in lovely shades of pink and orange. It's as if the gods themselves have made the sky their canvas. Below, the natural world is peaceful and undisturbed. Songbirds sing their evening songs to one another as they prepare to hunker down for the night. The yipping of a coyote can be heard somewhere off in the distance, and the gentle buzz of night insects begins to fill the air. The air hangs heavy and humid, putting a damper on an otherwise glorious night, retaining the day's heat and sticking to flesh and cloth alike. Despite the charming setting, one of its inhabitants appears rather upset. A small gnomish woman with slightly green-tinged tanned skin and a long ponytail of smooth brunette hair stands on a high mesa, looking down a magnified sight on the end of her outlandish crossbow, searching the planes for...something. She perks up as she apparently finds it, and bounds down the side of the mesa, spry as a billy goat, her teeth bared in an almost predatory grin. She dives behind a nearby hill and crawls up its side, prone. When she caps the hill she sees it: the prize she's searched so long for, wasting the entire day spotting. A caravan, full of rough-looking burly men accompanied by two gold-laden wagons rolls along the main road before pulling off to the base of the gnome's hill to set up camp. "Perfect," whispers Tinker to herself as she aims down the sight, marking the positions of each of the men in her mind as they go about setting up the camp. She counts a total of twelve. Twelve men for twenty-four thousand crowns? And mere ruffians at that? Definitely worth the few days it took to track them down, certainly. She wipes a bead of sweat from her forehead and waits for the camp to settle into its routine, patient and motionless as a lion ready to spring upon its prey. By the time the camp is completed, the sun has fallen beneath the horizon, and the stars have begun to peek out from behind the clouds, glimmering like fairy dust in the deep blue sky, glowing in rivers of celestial glory that stretch and wind across the night sky. The near-full moon casts its dim glow upon the lands, but the serenity its gentle light brings will not last long. Not, at least, for the men that set their tents below. Abruptly, the torch of one of the men falls to the ground with a muffled thump. Then another. And another. The gnome is nearly silent as she takes out her prey one after another, and it's too late before the bandits notice their predicament as one of her bolts whizzes past her mark's ear. His shouts are cut off by a steel bolt protruding from his jugular, but not before the remaining four bandits are put on alert. The gnome curses her own sloppiness, and stands up to run as the four men make their way toward her hiding spot, following the trajectory of the fired bolts. She'll have to take up a new position. That is, of course, unless a new party arrives to assist...
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Julius Maroth
New
Planning.
Roleplay posts: 6
Age: 32
Physical Description: Julius can be described as almost a beast of his kind. Wavy slick black hair rides over his head. A semi-thick beard runs down along his jaw. His body is built like a rock, solid muscle all over his body, veins can be seen running along his arms and legs, A large scar runs from his stomach to his right thigh. His hooves are always clean and proper. A long thick tail comes from him, most of the time wrapped around his leg. (NSFW Info can be asked for)
Clothes and Equipment: Most of the time he is dressed in either Plate or Chainmail, most of the time Chainmail as it is lighter. He has a golden piercing in his left nipple as well.
Can be seen carrying a Warhammer as his weapon, only using swords if needed.
Player's online availability : Random, will reply/message back when available.
Registered: Apr 9, 2018 10:12:01 GMT -8
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Post by Julius Maroth on Apr 10, 2018 18:52:08 GMT -8
Julius and the Shadowborn company had been walking for a few days. At this point most of them were ready to set up camp, ready to cook some dinner before they heard the sounds of shouting. It was something that Julius kept his ear open for as he saw the group of men, some of them being shot by bolts. Julius was not the type to really care much about reasons behind folk dying, however, if someone was attacking, he was ready to help as it could mean money in return. He quickly grabbed his war hammer.
As the men saw he start to move forward a loud whistle sounded from Julius as the company rushed in. Julius led them as he fearlessly charged into the group, slamming his war hammer down upon the skulls of one of the four men. It was a bloody and quick fight to say the least, they were not prepared for the unholy wrath that was brought down upon them, after a few moments however Julius found himself searching around for money or anything of value as the others helped and kept watch.
After he grabbed as much gold as he possibly could he began to search around, he wanted to see who was attacking them at first. As he had not seen anyone join in during the attack and was curious on if they had stuck around or not.
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Tinker Fizzbit
Committed
Roleplay posts: 72
Age: 52
Physical Description: Tinker Fizzbit would seem to be a perfectly normal woman in her twenties, with a long, silky brown ponytail and bangs framing her face. That is, she would, were she not approximately three feet tall with slightly pointed ears, and a knack for saying apparently anything that pops into her brain. This pegs her as one of the quirkiest of races: a gnome.
Her voice is high-pitched, yet erudite, speaking to a hidden intelligence beneath all the apparent craziness. She has a pleasant figure and a strong face, with thick eyebrows and a seemingly constant smattering of soot or other assorted explosion biproducts. Despite this, she is miraculously unscarred, somehow escaping all of her failed experiments with nothing but singed eyebrows and a fresh film of soot.
Clothes and Equipment: ============
Tinker generally wears a practical ensemble of baggy clothing made of durable and fireproofed cloth, covered by a protective leather vest with many inner pockets and a pair of knee-length leather boots. About her hip she wears an engineer's toolbelt, with a quiver and various tinkering tools on her left side, and a myriad of multicoloured flasks of various elixirs on her right, most of them highly volatile. When she's experimenting, she wears a set of specialised goggles. They tend to stay atop her forehead when she isn't.
Her weapon of choice is a heavily customised repeating crossbow with various modifications. The crossbow is fed by a circular drum of bolts above a mechanism which automatically launches a bolt and primes another with every pull of the trigger. It also has a very well-calibrated sight, and two valves that spray the bolts with various concoctions with the press of a button. All in all, it is a very advanced weapon.
Registered: Feb 17, 2016 1:50:52 GMT -8
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Post by Tinker Fizzbit on Apr 10, 2018 19:15:29 GMT -8
It's not long before the pattering of little feet precedes the entry of a three foot tall woman with an attitude clearly not suited for one of her stature. She's clad in a set of breathable hunter's gear, including a rather tight-fitted forest green tunic and a pair of matching linen trousers, held up by a thick leather belt. Her feet are wrapped up in a pair of heavy knee-length combat boots, and the ensemble is completed by a leather longcoat whose tail stretches down to her heels. Rather out of place, a pair of thick engineer's goggles rest atop her forehead, their copper-forged frame glinting in the light of the camp's braziers. "Hey! Those were mine!" she calls indignantly, pointing an accusing finger at one of the fallen men, "You'd best not be trying to move in on my bounty, or else!" She brandishes her crossbow threateningly, which might be humorous or cute given her size, were it not for the results of its powerful firing mechanism lying in pools of their own blood strewn about the camp.
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Julius Maroth
New
Planning.
Roleplay posts: 6
Age: 32
Physical Description: Julius can be described as almost a beast of his kind. Wavy slick black hair rides over his head. A semi-thick beard runs down along his jaw. His body is built like a rock, solid muscle all over his body, veins can be seen running along his arms and legs, A large scar runs from his stomach to his right thigh. His hooves are always clean and proper. A long thick tail comes from him, most of the time wrapped around his leg. (NSFW Info can be asked for)
Clothes and Equipment: Most of the time he is dressed in either Plate or Chainmail, most of the time Chainmail as it is lighter. He has a golden piercing in his left nipple as well.
Can be seen carrying a Warhammer as his weapon, only using swords if needed.
Player's online availability : Random, will reply/message back when available.
Registered: Apr 9, 2018 10:12:01 GMT -8
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Post by Julius Maroth on Apr 10, 2018 19:21:33 GMT -8
Julius looks over, curiously raising an eyebrow as he slowly walked forward toward her. He lifted his hammer up to his shoulder as it clanked against the chainmail he was currently wearing, it had been a warm day and he did not feel like cooking himself in a slab of plate armor. He walked up to the small woman, kneeling down in front of her as a grin began to form on his lips. "I mean, bounties are what we do love, I mean, we would be a pretty shit company if we didn't, so we shall be taking this over as we have done most of the work, you are free to take a cut however!" He said as he looked at the crossbow and back at her before placing a finger onto it's frame, slowly pushing it to the side. "I would also love to warn you if you really wish to pull the trigger you are more than welcome, however, I suspect you will die....painfully, seconds after." He looked at her before reaching out his hand "Who might you be?"
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Tinker Fizzbit
Committed
Roleplay posts: 72
Age: 52
Physical Description: Tinker Fizzbit would seem to be a perfectly normal woman in her twenties, with a long, silky brown ponytail and bangs framing her face. That is, she would, were she not approximately three feet tall with slightly pointed ears, and a knack for saying apparently anything that pops into her brain. This pegs her as one of the quirkiest of races: a gnome.
Her voice is high-pitched, yet erudite, speaking to a hidden intelligence beneath all the apparent craziness. She has a pleasant figure and a strong face, with thick eyebrows and a seemingly constant smattering of soot or other assorted explosion biproducts. Despite this, she is miraculously unscarred, somehow escaping all of her failed experiments with nothing but singed eyebrows and a fresh film of soot.
Clothes and Equipment: ============
Tinker generally wears a practical ensemble of baggy clothing made of durable and fireproofed cloth, covered by a protective leather vest with many inner pockets and a pair of knee-length leather boots. About her hip she wears an engineer's toolbelt, with a quiver and various tinkering tools on her left side, and a myriad of multicoloured flasks of various elixirs on her right, most of them highly volatile. When she's experimenting, she wears a set of specialised goggles. They tend to stay atop her forehead when she isn't.
Her weapon of choice is a heavily customised repeating crossbow with various modifications. The crossbow is fed by a circular drum of bolts above a mechanism which automatically launches a bolt and primes another with every pull of the trigger. It also has a very well-calibrated sight, and two valves that spray the bolts with various concoctions with the press of a button. All in all, it is a very advanced weapon.
Registered: Feb 17, 2016 1:50:52 GMT -8
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Post by Tinker Fizzbit on Apr 10, 2018 19:27:53 GMT -8
"A cut, he says! Most of the work, he says! This is my contract, and I did most of the work, in point of fact! I tracked them down, I killed eight of them. So you slaughtered measly four peons, big deal! I got their captain--" she gestures over to a man lying within an open tent clad in plate armour, a steel bolt buried in the side of his helm, "--and I let you help! If anything, I should be offering you a cut. You get fifteen percent, take it or leave it!" She crosses her arms with a harrumph, ignoring his extended hand, and glares at Julius, loathe do back down regardless of the size difference. One might assume she's used to being looked down on in the human realms for her size, and by this point it no longer fazes her.
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Julius Maroth
New
Planning.
Roleplay posts: 6
Age: 32
Physical Description: Julius can be described as almost a beast of his kind. Wavy slick black hair rides over his head. A semi-thick beard runs down along his jaw. His body is built like a rock, solid muscle all over his body, veins can be seen running along his arms and legs, A large scar runs from his stomach to his right thigh. His hooves are always clean and proper. A long thick tail comes from him, most of the time wrapped around his leg. (NSFW Info can be asked for)
Clothes and Equipment: Most of the time he is dressed in either Plate or Chainmail, most of the time Chainmail as it is lighter. He has a golden piercing in his left nipple as well.
Can be seen carrying a Warhammer as his weapon, only using swords if needed.
Player's online availability : Random, will reply/message back when available.
Registered: Apr 9, 2018 10:12:01 GMT -8
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Post by Julius Maroth on Apr 10, 2018 19:32:10 GMT -8
Julius leans in to her ear so only she could hear what he would say. "I hate to tell you this love, but right now I have an entire company watching the two of us have this discussion, so I can order for you to be killed and have my huge fucking minotaur friend rip you in half, and not in the fun way, or we do this the easy way, we get 75% you get 25% and we all it like that. In my opinion I think that is more than fair for the current situation you find yourself in eh? Would rather not see you used like a toy and killed over this little disagreement." He smirked before leaning back and looking at her, the rest of the company was behind him staring at the two of them waiting for Julius's orders.
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Tinker Fizzbit
Committed
Roleplay posts: 72
Age: 52
Physical Description: Tinker Fizzbit would seem to be a perfectly normal woman in her twenties, with a long, silky brown ponytail and bangs framing her face. That is, she would, were she not approximately three feet tall with slightly pointed ears, and a knack for saying apparently anything that pops into her brain. This pegs her as one of the quirkiest of races: a gnome.
Her voice is high-pitched, yet erudite, speaking to a hidden intelligence beneath all the apparent craziness. She has a pleasant figure and a strong face, with thick eyebrows and a seemingly constant smattering of soot or other assorted explosion biproducts. Despite this, she is miraculously unscarred, somehow escaping all of her failed experiments with nothing but singed eyebrows and a fresh film of soot.
Clothes and Equipment: ============
Tinker generally wears a practical ensemble of baggy clothing made of durable and fireproofed cloth, covered by a protective leather vest with many inner pockets and a pair of knee-length leather boots. About her hip she wears an engineer's toolbelt, with a quiver and various tinkering tools on her left side, and a myriad of multicoloured flasks of various elixirs on her right, most of them highly volatile. When she's experimenting, she wears a set of specialised goggles. They tend to stay atop her forehead when she isn't.
Her weapon of choice is a heavily customised repeating crossbow with various modifications. The crossbow is fed by a circular drum of bolts above a mechanism which automatically launches a bolt and primes another with every pull of the trigger. It also has a very well-calibrated sight, and two valves that spray the bolts with various concoctions with the press of a button. All in all, it is a very advanced weapon.
Registered: Feb 17, 2016 1:50:52 GMT -8
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Post by Tinker Fizzbit on Apr 10, 2018 19:42:59 GMT -8
Still undaunted, the irritated gnome shoulders her crossbow, clicking a switch on the side and firing off a quick bolt. The steel projectile flies in the minotaur's direction, wizzing past his ear, missing by mere inches, before smacking with a thud into the side of one of the wagons ten feet behind him. The bolt explodes outward in a large fireball, shattering the wood and spilling the gold out onto the ground, some of it warped and melty due to the explosive bolt.
She turns back to Julius and crosses her arms once again. "You get 25%," she huffs. "Where's the honour among mercenaries nowadays, anyway?! Used to be you could fulfill a contract without some lanky zippknocker coming along and stealing your kills! Really you should just apologise, take the cut I'm graciously giving you, and be on your merry way! I've been tracking these guys for days! "Shoulda kept my own company instead of going freelance," she mutters to herself.
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