Raena Fletcher
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 152
Age: 26
Physical Description: Standing at a height of six feet one inch, Raena Fletcher is a tall, very well-built young woman. Her skin is fairly pale, yet has a slight lively glow, and she has pale blue eyes that speak of a world weariness far beyond her age. Her snow white hair is always cut at about shoulder-length, silky and flowing and always well-kept despite her otherwise Spartan nature. She has full, though never painted lips, hardly ever seeming to turn up in a smile anymore. She has a long, deep scar running up from the bottom of her left jawline to the middle of her left cheek, marring her otherwise unblemished skin. Beneath her right eye, a tattoo in the shape of a fleur de lis has been inked. It looks almost ritual in nature, but its origins are as yet unknown.
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Clothes and Equipment: Over her travels, Raena has collected many pieces of heavy armour from her fallen foes and allies alike, melting it down and reforging it into a suit of plate maille unique to her and incredibly sturdy and heavy. The suit is stained forest green with bronze trim, a design embezzled in bronze on both pauldrons, one of a fleur de lis and the other a diving raven. Her bronze gorget has been shaped into the shape of a skull. In addition, a tattered orange-brown cloak wraps around her figure, obscuring her form in battle as well as adding an element of humility to her otherwise splendid armour. She does not tend to wear a helmet into battle, preferring the widest field of view as she can get.
As for armament, she tends to use a heavy enchanted two-handed flamberge sheathed upon her back as her primary weapon, with a short gladius and buckler as a backup. Finally, she carries a set of throwing knives within her cloak, and she's fairly proficient at aiming with them.
Outside of battle, she tends to wear simple linen clothing, preferring function and comfort over form. She hardly ever wears shoes outside her armour, either, having developed well-callused and strong feet to match her hands as a result.
Registered: Sept 7, 2015 16:22:46 GMT -8
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Post by Raena Fletcher on Mar 26, 2018 10:48:15 GMT -8
Situated in the middle of a vast forest off the main roads several klicks south of the Black Vale, this camp is built from the ruins of an old pre-Cataclysm prison. Tall buildings built with weathered and greyed marble stand vigilant even after so many centuries, a testament to the ingenuity of whatever pre-Cataclysmic society built them. Now, however, those buildings that once held the worst prisoners of their age now hold a different quarry: slaves captured by the relatively localised but undeniably brutal Silvermoon Slave Cartel. Having replaced collapsing stone walls with large wooden palisades and converting the complex into a veritable fortress, this is where the Silvermoon Cartel bases its operations. Any who venture too close are subject to become a commodity to the slavers, sold as cheap labour, pit fighters, or...worse. The locals know to stay away and since the area falls under no particular jurisdiction as yet, the slavers have been free to operate without any official action on the part of any government. By this time, the prison camp is filled with the cries of tortured inmates, the clang of pick upon stone as slaves work away, and the shouts of slavers breaking their quarry. It's a place of misery and despair, and it would behoove any traveler to give it a wide berth.
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Raena Fletcher
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 152
Age: 26
Physical Description: Standing at a height of six feet one inch, Raena Fletcher is a tall, very well-built young woman. Her skin is fairly pale, yet has a slight lively glow, and she has pale blue eyes that speak of a world weariness far beyond her age. Her snow white hair is always cut at about shoulder-length, silky and flowing and always well-kept despite her otherwise Spartan nature. She has full, though never painted lips, hardly ever seeming to turn up in a smile anymore. She has a long, deep scar running up from the bottom of her left jawline to the middle of her left cheek, marring her otherwise unblemished skin. Beneath her right eye, a tattoo in the shape of a fleur de lis has been inked. It looks almost ritual in nature, but its origins are as yet unknown.
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Clothes and Equipment: Over her travels, Raena has collected many pieces of heavy armour from her fallen foes and allies alike, melting it down and reforging it into a suit of plate maille unique to her and incredibly sturdy and heavy. The suit is stained forest green with bronze trim, a design embezzled in bronze on both pauldrons, one of a fleur de lis and the other a diving raven. Her bronze gorget has been shaped into the shape of a skull. In addition, a tattered orange-brown cloak wraps around her figure, obscuring her form in battle as well as adding an element of humility to her otherwise splendid armour. She does not tend to wear a helmet into battle, preferring the widest field of view as she can get.
As for armament, she tends to use a heavy enchanted two-handed flamberge sheathed upon her back as her primary weapon, with a short gladius and buckler as a backup. Finally, she carries a set of throwing knives within her cloak, and she's fairly proficient at aiming with them.
Outside of battle, she tends to wear simple linen clothing, preferring function and comfort over form. She hardly ever wears shoes outside her armour, either, having developed well-callused and strong feet to match her hands as a result.
Registered: Sept 7, 2015 16:22:46 GMT -8
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Post by Raena Fletcher on Mar 26, 2018 11:03:16 GMT -8
It's night in the Silvermoon camp, but that means little to Raena but that the torches burn especially bright against her aching eyes. She takes stock of her surroundings for the hundredth time. She finds herself within a wide prison cell completely devoid of amenities, three grey windowless stone walls surrounding her, a heavy iron barred gate locked before her. She hangs by reddened and strained wrists, the tips of her toes just brushing the floor, never allowed a moment's rest. A guard clad in heavy plated armour inscribed with a moon insignia and wielding a large glaive clanks past her cell every once in a while, paying her no mind. For months, these slaver bastards have tried to break her. Every time, she's resisted. But she grows...tired. Her head drops once more, her white hair cascading about her face, sweat dripping from the tip of her nose. She looks down at her barely-clothed body, her decency preserved by naught but a few scraps of linen. She's gained some new scars since the slavers started their efforts. her toned abdomen is stained with her own blood, dried and caked on at this point. Her legs are covered with whip marks. The slavers have done their best to keep her wounds easily hidden and as such haven't broken anything, but this is little comfort; Raena knows what this means they have planned for her.
The woman refuses to become a plaything for any rich man, though, however pampered that might make her. Cages don't suit the woman, gilded or otherwise. And so her resolve is renewed, and she inhales with a sharp intake of breath, holding it for a moment before breathing out. She has no escape plan. Surely, however, this can't continue forever. The slavers are vigilant, but they are human. They will slip up. And when they do, Raena will tear them limb from limb. "This I can promise," she murmurs to herself. The guard outside her cell hears her muttering to herself and slams the wooden haft of his glaive upon the bars. "Quiet, worm!" he snarls in a gravelly, unrefined tone. Raena acquiesces, and says nothing. He will be the first to perish, she thinks to herself, before consciousness slips from her exhausted mind and she falls into a restless slumber.
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Roxanne Fletcher
Main Character
Roleplay posts: 816
Age: 22
Physical Description: Roxanne is tall with white hair and a narrow, athletic build. She has a pleasant face and only a couple of scars.
Clothes and Equipment: Heavy armor, Elven bow (stolen), and a longsword.
Player's online availability : Early mornings and late evenings
Registered: Aug 2, 2015 8:58:10 GMT -8
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Post by Roxanne Fletcher on Mar 26, 2018 11:12:38 GMT -8
Roxanne looked down at the piece of paper in her hands, then back up at the prison. The cries from the inside unsettled her, and she wondered if it was the right decision to take this job. She hadn't realized it was this sort of place when she'd found the advertisement in the tavern, but she probably should have anticipated this. Recapture runaways: prices negotiable. She'd thought that it was for a prison, or some sort of vigilante group...but slavers? This seemed wrong...still, she'd heard that they were willing to pay bounty hunters good money to bring back their escapees, and it had been a while since she'd gotten any sort of work.
Approaching the gate of the main building, she stepped inside, looking around at the cages and broken souls. The atmosphere weighed on her heavily, and she shuddered. Could she really work for these people? Almost certainly not...but she'd come all this way, there wasn't any harm in seeing what they were offering. Even though she'd turn it down. Definitely. She rested her hand on the pommel of her sword, wondering why some of the workers were staring at her and whispering. Trying to ignore them, she looked around for whoever was in charge.
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Raena Fletcher
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 152
Age: 26
Physical Description: Standing at a height of six feet one inch, Raena Fletcher is a tall, very well-built young woman. Her skin is fairly pale, yet has a slight lively glow, and she has pale blue eyes that speak of a world weariness far beyond her age. Her snow white hair is always cut at about shoulder-length, silky and flowing and always well-kept despite her otherwise Spartan nature. She has full, though never painted lips, hardly ever seeming to turn up in a smile anymore. She has a long, deep scar running up from the bottom of her left jawline to the middle of her left cheek, marring her otherwise unblemished skin. Beneath her right eye, a tattoo in the shape of a fleur de lis has been inked. It looks almost ritual in nature, but its origins are as yet unknown.
================================
Clothes and Equipment: Over her travels, Raena has collected many pieces of heavy armour from her fallen foes and allies alike, melting it down and reforging it into a suit of plate maille unique to her and incredibly sturdy and heavy. The suit is stained forest green with bronze trim, a design embezzled in bronze on both pauldrons, one of a fleur de lis and the other a diving raven. Her bronze gorget has been shaped into the shape of a skull. In addition, a tattered orange-brown cloak wraps around her figure, obscuring her form in battle as well as adding an element of humility to her otherwise splendid armour. She does not tend to wear a helmet into battle, preferring the widest field of view as she can get.
As for armament, she tends to use a heavy enchanted two-handed flamberge sheathed upon her back as her primary weapon, with a short gladius and buckler as a backup. Finally, she carries a set of throwing knives within her cloak, and she's fairly proficient at aiming with them.
Outside of battle, she tends to wear simple linen clothing, preferring function and comfort over form. She hardly ever wears shoes outside her armour, either, having developed well-callused and strong feet to match her hands as a result.
Registered: Sept 7, 2015 16:22:46 GMT -8
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Post by Raena Fletcher on Mar 26, 2018 11:30:21 GMT -8
A grizzled commander approached Roxanne as she enters the camp, his scarred lips turned up in a lecherous grin as his gaze slithers over her figure. He’s dressed in a set of gleaming plate armour embeveled with silver and gold latticework designs portraying a crescent moon insignia. It’s pristine and well taken care of, the armour of a noble or a king. His face is handsome, middle aged with a dusting of black hair peppered with white and grey. His eyes are a striking emerald. “Why hello there, luv,” he intones, his voice quiet and composed yet possessing a dangerous edge.
“Come looking for mercenary work I see,” he continues, gesturing to the ad clutched within her hands, “or perhaps to volunteer yourself in...some other way? We could always use more hands around here.” His grin widens to reveal a pair of sharp silver canines, longer and sharper, it seems, than a natural tooth should be. Behind him, in the mustering grounds, the slaves have stopped their whispers and gotten back to work, only glancing in Roxanne’s direction occasionally. Most know not to falter when the commander comes around, lest they end up vanishing for good.
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Roxanne Fletcher
Main Character
Roleplay posts: 816
Age: 22
Physical Description: Roxanne is tall with white hair and a narrow, athletic build. She has a pleasant face and only a couple of scars.
Clothes and Equipment: Heavy armor, Elven bow (stolen), and a longsword.
Player's online availability : Early mornings and late evenings
Registered: Aug 2, 2015 8:58:10 GMT -8
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Post by Roxanne Fletcher on Mar 26, 2018 12:58:51 GMT -8
Roxanne glared at the man as his eyes slid down her body. What was he looking for, anyways? Her armor was cut to fit, not to flatter. The commander's appearance surprised her, as she hadn't expected someone so...clean. So polished. She'd expected some greasy, dirty figure, not this...but his line of business was dirty enough to offset any amount of shine on his armor. She crossed her arms in front of her chest, clicking her tongue to call his attention back up to her face.
"I'm here for the mercenary work, that's all. I'm told you pay well for recaptures. Tell me...what sort of line of work do you have here? I can guess just from looking around here, but I'd like to hear it straight from the horse's mouth, so to speak. Just to confirm. What sort of person do you deal to? Also...what can I call you, hmm?"
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Raena Fletcher
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 152
Age: 26
Physical Description: Standing at a height of six feet one inch, Raena Fletcher is a tall, very well-built young woman. Her skin is fairly pale, yet has a slight lively glow, and she has pale blue eyes that speak of a world weariness far beyond her age. Her snow white hair is always cut at about shoulder-length, silky and flowing and always well-kept despite her otherwise Spartan nature. She has full, though never painted lips, hardly ever seeming to turn up in a smile anymore. She has a long, deep scar running up from the bottom of her left jawline to the middle of her left cheek, marring her otherwise unblemished skin. Beneath her right eye, a tattoo in the shape of a fleur de lis has been inked. It looks almost ritual in nature, but its origins are as yet unknown.
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Clothes and Equipment: Over her travels, Raena has collected many pieces of heavy armour from her fallen foes and allies alike, melting it down and reforging it into a suit of plate maille unique to her and incredibly sturdy and heavy. The suit is stained forest green with bronze trim, a design embezzled in bronze on both pauldrons, one of a fleur de lis and the other a diving raven. Her bronze gorget has been shaped into the shape of a skull. In addition, a tattered orange-brown cloak wraps around her figure, obscuring her form in battle as well as adding an element of humility to her otherwise splendid armour. She does not tend to wear a helmet into battle, preferring the widest field of view as she can get.
As for armament, she tends to use a heavy enchanted two-handed flamberge sheathed upon her back as her primary weapon, with a short gladius and buckler as a backup. Finally, she carries a set of throwing knives within her cloak, and she's fairly proficient at aiming with them.
Outside of battle, she tends to wear simple linen clothing, preferring function and comfort over form. She hardly ever wears shoes outside her armour, either, having developed well-callused and strong feet to match her hands as a result.
Registered: Sept 7, 2015 16:22:46 GMT -8
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Post by Raena Fletcher on Mar 26, 2018 14:00:37 GMT -8
The commander chuckles at the woman's insistence. "Right down to business, I see," he sighs, crossing his gauntleted arms and shaking his head. "What a shame. Well, my name is Commander Jaran. You stand in the base of operations of the Silvermoon Organisation. We take the...disreputables, the unwanted of society and put them to better use. Labour, fighting, you know. That sort of thing. We figure a hand that's cleaning a noble's study is a hand that isn't taking up arms against greater society. We make money, they get help, everybody wins." His tone is soft and convincing, friendly even. "Now. Come with me. We should discuss the specifics of our arrangement somewhere less conspicuous," he continues, and his tone makes it seem as if there's not much choice in the matter. As if materializing out of the night, two armed guards appear beside Roxanne, their pointed glaives shining menacingly in the torchlight, their silver armour gleaming enchantingly. In other circumstances one might think they were some sort of noble men at arms or even knights.
The commander turns, and begins to walk off toward a building at the other end of the mustering ground, inspecting the work of the toiling slaves as he passes. It seems as if they're clearing and flattening the dusty land, possibly in order to build a paved road. A gallows stands off to one side, previously concealed behind a barracks, three poor souls hanging from the ropes, their eyes long picked out by carrion birds. Around the center corpse's neck hangs a sign that reads, in bold calligraphy, "DESERTERS WILL BE PUNISHED". "We run a tight ship here," explains Jaran, "and I don't take kindly to insubordination."
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Roxanne Fletcher
Main Character
Roleplay posts: 816
Age: 22
Physical Description: Roxanne is tall with white hair and a narrow, athletic build. She has a pleasant face and only a couple of scars.
Clothes and Equipment: Heavy armor, Elven bow (stolen), and a longsword.
Player's online availability : Early mornings and late evenings
Registered: Aug 2, 2015 8:58:10 GMT -8
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Post by Roxanne Fletcher on Mar 26, 2018 20:02:20 GMT -8
Roxanne nodded, dubious. The man answered as though he'd received the question a hundred times before. It was tactful and innocuous, almost as though it had been rehearsed. Still, knowing the exact nature of the work made his polite explanation seem all the more sinister. When the hulking guards showed up behind her, Roxanne glanced back at them, casting a wary eye at their shining weapons before following the Commander. she could tell by the way the light reflected that the blades were shiny from maintenance and sharpening, rather than from lack of use. It was a bit less friendly than she'd hoped, but the man seemed professional enough. No matter how distasteful the profession might be.
"Cleaning hands? Pit fighters? Is that really all you sell lives for here, hmm? I've heard tales that you can get much more if you have the coin...but rumors are rumors, I suppose. Rich men will always have their playthings, no matter where they get them from."
She glanced over at the gallows, shuddering slightly at the sight of the scavenger-picked bodies. Despite being no stranger to death and corpses, the sight of decomposing or partially eaten bodies still made her uncomfortable.
"I can imagine that you'd need to run this place pretty closely, to avoid any sort of trouble and unrest. Were those poor souls from inside the cages, or outside? Employees, or, uh...merchandise?"
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Raena Fletcher
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 152
Age: 26
Physical Description: Standing at a height of six feet one inch, Raena Fletcher is a tall, very well-built young woman. Her skin is fairly pale, yet has a slight lively glow, and she has pale blue eyes that speak of a world weariness far beyond her age. Her snow white hair is always cut at about shoulder-length, silky and flowing and always well-kept despite her otherwise Spartan nature. She has full, though never painted lips, hardly ever seeming to turn up in a smile anymore. She has a long, deep scar running up from the bottom of her left jawline to the middle of her left cheek, marring her otherwise unblemished skin. Beneath her right eye, a tattoo in the shape of a fleur de lis has been inked. It looks almost ritual in nature, but its origins are as yet unknown.
================================
Clothes and Equipment: Over her travels, Raena has collected many pieces of heavy armour from her fallen foes and allies alike, melting it down and reforging it into a suit of plate maille unique to her and incredibly sturdy and heavy. The suit is stained forest green with bronze trim, a design embezzled in bronze on both pauldrons, one of a fleur de lis and the other a diving raven. Her bronze gorget has been shaped into the shape of a skull. In addition, a tattered orange-brown cloak wraps around her figure, obscuring her form in battle as well as adding an element of humility to her otherwise splendid armour. She does not tend to wear a helmet into battle, preferring the widest field of view as she can get.
As for armament, she tends to use a heavy enchanted two-handed flamberge sheathed upon her back as her primary weapon, with a short gladius and buckler as a backup. Finally, she carries a set of throwing knives within her cloak, and she's fairly proficient at aiming with them.
Outside of battle, she tends to wear simple linen clothing, preferring function and comfort over form. She hardly ever wears shoes outside her armour, either, having developed well-callused and strong feet to match her hands as a result.
Registered: Sept 7, 2015 16:22:46 GMT -8
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Post by Raena Fletcher on Mar 27, 2018 18:02:53 GMT -8
"Those," replies the Commander, stopping for a moment before the great steel door that marks the entrance to his quarters and looking back over his shoulder at the hanged men with a grim expression, "were once my finest officers. They decided to disobey my orders and allow one of our quarry to escape, simply because she had a pretty face and a soft intonation. The day they got it in their minds to elope with some peasant girl is the day they crossed me. Well, technically it was just the one, but the others were his cohorts. They stand as an example to what happens when you cross me...or what happens when you stand with those who do. You are not so foolish, I trust, girl?" Despite the inflection, it sounds more like a veiled threat than a question.
"Merchandise? How...barbaric," replies the commander, holding the door to the warden's office open for Roxanne as the silver-clad guards usher her in. It's a squat stone building next to the grand citadel of the prison proper, but inside it's opulently decorated, forest green curtains laced with silver trim hanging upon each window, each wall decorated with what appear to be original art pieces, a grandiose mahogany desk sat in the centre of the room. Two bookshelves adorn one wall, filled with various tomes and novels. A disturbingly great many of them seem to explore the subject of torture techniques and how to most efficiently dispatch your enemies, along with several famed military doctrine manuals. The rest are leisure reading; a few even appear to be sappy romance novels. A sturdy oak door across from the book shelves marks the man's bedroom.
"We prefer to call them...mmm...contractors. They work for us, they get treated well, fed, clothed, bathed. What more could one ask? Certainly we make the monetary profit, but do we not deserve this, after all we do to keep our people alive?" he asks as he sits upon a cushioned chair facing his desk, pushing aside a stack of building plans from the centre of his desk and tugging a set of bounty posters from a cabinet filled with files. He spreads them out on the desk before him. They give no description of the crimes of those pictured, and a few of them look to be no older than sixteen seasons. "These insolent fools decided they would forgo my generous hospitality for a taste of...what they call freedom. The whole lot of them snuck out in the dead of night, leaving their comrades behind -- some allies they were. By now they are likely dead, eaten by the beasts that roam this forest or picked off by ruffians and bandits, but I want you to find whatever remains of them, and bring them to me." His soft tone has turned into a light growl, and his emerald eyes flash with anger. "If they are dead, they will be displayed for all to see, to show those who might harbor similar thoughts that the Silvermoon Organisation is the safest place they could possibly be. If they are not...well, then they will scream for their insubordination for seven long nights, before they are silenced. Permanently," he purrs, sliding the painted posters closer to Roxanne.
"They are hardly worth this price, but I wish to make an example. I offer half a million crowns for the lot of them. You get a quarter of the reward upon acceptance, the rest will come when they are brought before me," he continues, leaning back in his chair and crossing his fingers, his enigmatic grin returning. The silver-clad guards stand behind the woman, "I would recommend you don't take the quarter offered and leave, however. That would make the Silvermoon Organisation very...unhappy."
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Meanwhile, outside the warden's quarters, a makeshift market is being set up, a large wooden podium upon which several dozen slaves are positioned, chained to the ground below them with heavy steel links, arms crossed behind each. A merchant's caravan trots into the camp, a troupe of well-dressed men lining up before the podium and speaking with one another with a low buzz. The slaves working in the mustering ground have all been ushered away; it's unbecoming for such worthless filth to be seen by the Cartel's customers. One by one slaves are tugged up onto their feet by a burly man who looks more like an executioner than a salesman. His voice tells a different story, however, a charismatic baritone that flows quickly and clearly.
The merchants use painted fans raised into the air to place their bids, and one by one the slaves are pushed off the market podium. One in particular stands out among the crowd. It's a woman, but her curves are not supple and fattened or waifish and girlish like those who came before. Instead, her figure is powerful and taut. Her hips are wide and her breasts full, but her abdomen is toned and scarred by years of fighting, her legs and arms visibly powerful, the musculature bulging slightly without being grotesquely large. She's a prime physical specimen in every sense of the word. Her white hair cascades over her face as it drops, her eyes shut tight as she kneels, fighting the base urge to give in to impossible odds. She won't give these merchants a show -- despite being nearly nude and humiliated -- and she won't give in to the slavers' jeers. As the slaves get sold off one by one she awaits her turn. She will make them regret ever touching her.
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Roxanne Fletcher
Main Character
Roleplay posts: 816
Age: 22
Physical Description: Roxanne is tall with white hair and a narrow, athletic build. She has a pleasant face and only a couple of scars.
Clothes and Equipment: Heavy armor, Elven bow (stolen), and a longsword.
Player's online availability : Early mornings and late evenings
Registered: Aug 2, 2015 8:58:10 GMT -8
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Post by Roxanne Fletcher on Mar 28, 2018 8:16:55 GMT -8
Roxanne frowned as he described exactly what the men had done to deserve such treatment. It made sense, she supposed. Insubordination was a grave offense, especially in this line of work...but it still made her uneasy that he'd do this to his own men. Jaran calling her "girl" made her eye twitch, but she held her tongue. No sense at lashing out over something so minor, especially not to someone like this.
"My name is Roxanne, thank you very much. And no, I don't see myself running off with peasant girls or letting anyone escape just because they have a pretty face. I don't bite the hand that feeds me, after all."
Looking over the bounty posters, she frowned. Some looked awfully young, and the only crime they'd committed had been to run away and try to find themselves a better life. She couldn't possibly hunt them down and bring them in, especially not knowing what was in store for them. There was no way she could condemn anyone to a week of torture before an agonizing death. When he named the payment, she almost choked, eyes growing wide at the sum. What sort of business did this man run, that he could afford to throw out sums like that for what was really little more than vengeance?
"I-I'll have to think about that, Commander. Your offer is more than generous, but seeking out so many people on my own...it'd be quite an undertaking. Do you mind if I step outside for a moment to think?"
Without waiting for a response, she pushed past the armored guards and hurried out of the room. Once outside, she took a deep, shuddering breath. She hated this place, hated that man, and hated herself for even considering the offer. It was deeply tempting, but there was no way she could ever forgive herself for something like that. She began to walk away from the office, heading past the market, when a flash of white hair caught her eye. Glancing over, she spotted a familiar figure and her breath caught in her throat. There was no way...but there she was. Roxanne couldn't believe her eyes. What was Raena doing here? What had these monsters done to her? Roxanne knew that the woman's pride must be killing her, that her cousin would be seething at being so exposed in front of all these people. How could they put her in chains like that, to be sold to the highest bidder? She stared at Raena, eyes wide with shock. The rags didn't hide much, and she could tell that the captors hadn't been kind. Raena had always been much fuller in the bosom than Roxanne, and the raw lash marks barely hidden by the scrap of cloth told her that Raena's "blessings" hadn't been to her advantage. How could anyone be so cruel? Roxanne clutched her arms around her chest, imagining if she were ever attacked like that. It would be awful, the humiliation almost worse than the pain...and now here Raena was, ready to be sold to some wealthy old lord to be used as little more than a toy and decoration. Roxanne hesitated for a moment, then hurried back into the office, face flushed.
"Commander, I...I have a counter offer. I'll bring you your runaways, alive or dead. No up-front payment, no half million. Instead...I want that white-haired woman that's being sold off right now. You can keep her here while I'm out there, ensure that I don't run off and betray you...but I'd best not see a single new mark on her when I return. How does that sound?"
Her hands shook, and she clasped them behind her back to hide her trembling.
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Commander Jaran Kharr
New
Roleplay posts: 4
Age: 46
Physical Description: A tall, powerful man, Jaran is a middle-aged warrior, standing at a height of just over six feet tall. His face is masculine and angular, covered with scars and nicks and browned by the sun over the many years of his service. He has a dusting of mid-length feathery sable hair, with piercing deep set eyes of a pale glacial blue. Despite his size, he carries himself with an air of elegance and grace befitting a knight, though his resting expression is a grim and serious one. All in all he is a very handsome but mostly normal human, but for when he smiles, revealing a pair of sharp artificial silvery fangs where his canines should be.
Clothes and Equipment: =========
Jaran's battle gear is a heavy set of steel plate armour inlaid with silver designs of a crescent moon, indicative of his position within the Silvermoon Slaver Cartel. The silver inlays glimmer brilliantly in the light, and the steel is extremely well taken care of and of the highest quality. Upon his back he wears a long silver cloak, fastened to his chest with a crescent moon broach, a long enchanted hand-and-a-half sword resting beneath its folds. Occasionally he may be seen with an oaken longbow strapped across his back, which he uses for hunting -- be his quarry beast or man.
Registered: Mar 28, 2018 7:18:08 GMT -8
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Post by Commander Jaran Kharr on Mar 28, 2018 15:17:19 GMT -8
The commander raises a brow at her departure, motioning for the guards to follow her and ensure she doesn't cause any problems. Before they can move, however, she comes bursting back in, spilling her counter offer in hurried words. He raises both brows at the comparatively generous terms and sits back in his chair, crossing his fingertips. What, he wonders, does this problem inmate mean to this woman that she'd forgo half a million crowns? The woman was a dismal and disobedient slave -- part of the reason he's not selling her as a fighter, as giving her weapons near any master would be a bad idea. Jaran's eyes trace their way over Roxanne's features, viewing her in a new light. She does look quite a bit like the other woman. The hair, the eyes, the features. Not sisters, but...close. He purposefully keeps her waiting for a response, gauging her reactions as he does so. She's shaking like a leaf. Clearly this slave means a lot to her.
Finally, his coldly calculating expression breaks and the edges of his lips twitch up into a grin, his features softening ever so slightly. "A generous offer indeed, Miss Fletcher. I am almost tempted to accept on your terms, but..." he pauses and sighs, "well, I am a man of principle, and it is clear your negotiation skills put you at a disadvantage. I will offer you something better. You can take the woman and have her help hunting the escapees. She is an excellent fighter -- though something tells me you know that already -- and she gave our men much trouble before being caught in her trespassing. In addition, you will be accompanied by a pair of my best men, who will offer you their full-fledged support." The men, of course, are not truly offered as support, but as security. He slides the stack of bounty posters over the table to Roxanne, inviting her to take them. "Happy hunting, Miss Fletcher. I eagerly await your successful return," he states in his dulcet tones, smiling dangerously.
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Roxanne Fletcher
Main Character
Roleplay posts: 816
Age: 22
Physical Description: Roxanne is tall with white hair and a narrow, athletic build. She has a pleasant face and only a couple of scars.
Clothes and Equipment: Heavy armor, Elven bow (stolen), and a longsword.
Player's online availability : Early mornings and late evenings
Registered: Aug 2, 2015 8:58:10 GMT -8
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Post by Roxanne Fletcher on Apr 1, 2018 10:34:34 GMT -8
Roxanne hesitated for a moment. Something seemed off here...but it didn't matter, did it? She was getting Raena out of here, that was what was important. In her flustered state, she didn't realize that he'd called her by her last name, something that she'd never told him. She hurriedly gathered up the papers in her arms, not wanting to look at the names and sketches until she absolutely had to. Hurrying outside, she ran towards the market, heading towards the man who seemed to be in charge. The two men presumably followed, and she gave them a nervous glance before turning to the auctioneer.
"E-excuse me. The white haired woman is coming with me. She's mine now, I settled it with the Commander. These two can back me up."
She gestured to her two "escorts". Would she and Raena be able to escape them? She really didn't want to have to bring these people in, but the Commander had put her in a difficult place.
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Raena Fletcher
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 152
Age: 26
Physical Description: Standing at a height of six feet one inch, Raena Fletcher is a tall, very well-built young woman. Her skin is fairly pale, yet has a slight lively glow, and she has pale blue eyes that speak of a world weariness far beyond her age. Her snow white hair is always cut at about shoulder-length, silky and flowing and always well-kept despite her otherwise Spartan nature. She has full, though never painted lips, hardly ever seeming to turn up in a smile anymore. She has a long, deep scar running up from the bottom of her left jawline to the middle of her left cheek, marring her otherwise unblemished skin. Beneath her right eye, a tattoo in the shape of a fleur de lis has been inked. It looks almost ritual in nature, but its origins are as yet unknown.
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Clothes and Equipment: Over her travels, Raena has collected many pieces of heavy armour from her fallen foes and allies alike, melting it down and reforging it into a suit of plate maille unique to her and incredibly sturdy and heavy. The suit is stained forest green with bronze trim, a design embezzled in bronze on both pauldrons, one of a fleur de lis and the other a diving raven. Her bronze gorget has been shaped into the shape of a skull. In addition, a tattered orange-brown cloak wraps around her figure, obscuring her form in battle as well as adding an element of humility to her otherwise splendid armour. She does not tend to wear a helmet into battle, preferring the widest field of view as she can get.
As for armament, she tends to use a heavy enchanted two-handed flamberge sheathed upon her back as her primary weapon, with a short gladius and buckler as a backup. Finally, she carries a set of throwing knives within her cloak, and she's fairly proficient at aiming with them.
Outside of battle, she tends to wear simple linen clothing, preferring function and comfort over form. She hardly ever wears shoes outside her armour, either, having developed well-callused and strong feet to match her hands as a result.
Registered: Sept 7, 2015 16:22:46 GMT -8
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Post by Raena Fletcher on Apr 1, 2018 16:33:46 GMT -8
Raena's eyes widen at the sound of Roxanne's voice, and her head shoots up, hair whipping back. She can hardly believe her own sight. What was Roxanne doing in such a shithole? Further, what was she doing buying slaves? These thoughts shoot through Raena's mind at the speed of light. They don't last long, however, as Raena overcomes her shock and stands up, pulling the chains up from where they disappear into the podium and whipping them about to catch the slave auctioneer's leg, tripping him up. She slams a foot down upon the man's chest, pinning him, and glowers down at him. The nearby guards move to intercept, but a subtle gesture from one of the faceless honour guards tells them to stand down. "Try and auction me off to some rich bastard again," hisses Raena in her deep, feminine tones, "and you will die choking on your own blood."
She squats down to take the keys from the auctioneer's belt, unlocking herself and rolling her shoulders forward. She rubs at her wrists. They've become far too accustomed to those iron shackles, reddened and bruised where she hung. She'll make sure she never has to wear them again. She gives a curt nod of thanks and a small, secret smile to Roxanne before levelling her icy eyes on one of the honour guard. "My gear, please," she rumbles. Just then, a squire approaches, leading a mule that lugs a heavy cart behind him. There lie Raena's reforged forest green and golden plate armour, just as proudly beaten and scarred as the last time Roxanne saw it. Perhaps moreso, even. Raena moves to acquire her gear, and begins to step into the armour, piece by piece.
It takes a considerable span of time to fit herself back into her clothing and armour, but by the time it's done, one could barely tell Raena had been so thoroughly abused. She wears the same grim resting expression as always, and although she looks a tad slimmer than before, she's still got a powerful angular facial structure. She pulls her flamberge from the cart and pulls it from its sheathe, prompting the guards to lean forward a tad, both hands moving to their heavy glaives, but she doesn't make any move to attack, instead swinging the gleaming blade through the air once, testing the enchanted blade's weight. Nodding in satisfaction, she sheathes it again and slings it over her back, followed by the shield, and then the gladius, which she attaches to her belt. Last but not least, she swings the tattered and faded red-orange cloak over her shoulders, the fabric falling heavily, indicating her throwing knives are still hidden within its folds.
It is not until she's full re-equipped that she approaches Roxanne and wraps her arms around the other Fletcher, embracing her tightly yet only for a short moment before pulling back. "It is good to see you again, Roxy," she intones with a faint smile. "We must catch up. I wish to know everything about the past few years that you and I have been separated. But first, uh.." Raena looks about with a sour expression, "I would like to leave this dreadful place. The voice of The Void is quiet here, and there is much unnecessary suffering without the release of death."
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Roxanne Fletcher
Main Character
Roleplay posts: 816
Age: 22
Physical Description: Roxanne is tall with white hair and a narrow, athletic build. She has a pleasant face and only a couple of scars.
Clothes and Equipment: Heavy armor, Elven bow (stolen), and a longsword.
Player's online availability : Early mornings and late evenings
Registered: Aug 2, 2015 8:58:10 GMT -8
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Post by Roxanne Fletcher on Apr 4, 2018 18:34:20 GMT -8
Roxanne watched, speechless, as Raena effortlessly freed herself. The fact that she hadn't done that earlier told her that her cousin knew that she'd immediately be overpowered and punished if she tried anything...what had they already done to her? She could see the cruel marks, and wondered else they'd done that she couldn't see the marks from...still, it was all over now. Raena was safe now, by her side. Whatever nightmares she'd gone through were over, and everything would be alright. When the normally frigid woman threw her arms around her, Roxanne returned the embrace warmly, still shaking. How on earth had they captured her, with all that equipment? Why had they taken her in the first place? When Raena suggested that they leave, Roxanne hesitated for a moment before nodding.
"Yes, let's go...but we'll have to return at some point. I didn't pay your freedom out of my own pocket, I couldn't...so I bargained. We have bounties to fill."
She held out the stack of papers, biting her lip nervously.
"But for now...let's get out of here. It stinks of death."
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Raena Fletcher
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 152
Age: 26
Physical Description: Standing at a height of six feet one inch, Raena Fletcher is a tall, very well-built young woman. Her skin is fairly pale, yet has a slight lively glow, and she has pale blue eyes that speak of a world weariness far beyond her age. Her snow white hair is always cut at about shoulder-length, silky and flowing and always well-kept despite her otherwise Spartan nature. She has full, though never painted lips, hardly ever seeming to turn up in a smile anymore. She has a long, deep scar running up from the bottom of her left jawline to the middle of her left cheek, marring her otherwise unblemished skin. Beneath her right eye, a tattoo in the shape of a fleur de lis has been inked. It looks almost ritual in nature, but its origins are as yet unknown.
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Clothes and Equipment: Over her travels, Raena has collected many pieces of heavy armour from her fallen foes and allies alike, melting it down and reforging it into a suit of plate maille unique to her and incredibly sturdy and heavy. The suit is stained forest green with bronze trim, a design embezzled in bronze on both pauldrons, one of a fleur de lis and the other a diving raven. Her bronze gorget has been shaped into the shape of a skull. In addition, a tattered orange-brown cloak wraps around her figure, obscuring her form in battle as well as adding an element of humility to her otherwise splendid armour. She does not tend to wear a helmet into battle, preferring the widest field of view as she can get.
As for armament, she tends to use a heavy enchanted two-handed flamberge sheathed upon her back as her primary weapon, with a short gladius and buckler as a backup. Finally, she carries a set of throwing knives within her cloak, and she's fairly proficient at aiming with them.
Outside of battle, she tends to wear simple linen clothing, preferring function and comfort over form. She hardly ever wears shoes outside her armour, either, having developed well-callused and strong feet to match her hands as a result.
Registered: Sept 7, 2015 16:22:46 GMT -8
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Post by Raena Fletcher on Apr 5, 2018 17:00:11 GMT -8
Raena raises a slightly disapproving brow at her cousin as she swipes the papers from her hand. "Working for slavers now, are we?" she rumbles, her tone one of almost motherly disappointment. "Roxanne. You know better than to trust these sorts. Why are you taking a contract on these people simply to save me? I am hardly worth all this. Are you certain there was no other way?" She sighs and slides the papers into a slot in her cloak before nodding and stepping off toward the entrance. Despite her having been a slave just moments prior, none of the guards move to stop her, partially due to her retinue of honour guard that follow her every move.
If Roxanne decides to follow the group, she'll find Raena and the others positioned next to a nearby supply cart. Raena speaks in low tones with the honour guards as she leans upon the cart, gnawing away at an apple. They appear to be talking about the plan to capture the escapees. "I do not like the idea," replies Raena to the query of one of the helmeted guards, who himself leans upon the haft of his glaive, "but I suppose I haven't much choice, do I?" The guard shakes his head, and Raena nods. Of course she doesn't. Still, hunting down slaves feels...wrong, even to her. Death is preferable to being kept as a pet, in her mind. Death means being reunited with The Void and falling into eternal slumber. Slavery is constant humiliation, constant distance combat, constant severance from The Void. Hell, if ever there were such a thing. And yet she's de facto agreed to bring more beings back into slavery. She's almost disgusted with herself, and with her cousin.
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Roxanne Fletcher
Main Character
Roleplay posts: 816
Age: 22
Physical Description: Roxanne is tall with white hair and a narrow, athletic build. She has a pleasant face and only a couple of scars.
Clothes and Equipment: Heavy armor, Elven bow (stolen), and a longsword.
Player's online availability : Early mornings and late evenings
Registered: Aug 2, 2015 8:58:10 GMT -8
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Post by Roxanne Fletcher on Apr 5, 2018 18:52:17 GMT -8
Raena's disapproval weighed heavily on Roxanne, as well as her own guilty conscience. She really was condemning people to slavery. Children. How could she do this? She took a deep, shuddering breath, trying not to think about what she'd committed the two of them to doing. She hadn't had a choice, had she? There really wasn't anyting else to be done.
"I'm so sorry, Raena. What else could I do? I had to save you, I couldn't let you stay here. I saw what they'd done to you, and who knows what else they would have done? What if you'd been sold, forced into a life of slavery? What then? I'm really sorry, but I didn't have a choice. There really wasn't any other way..."
But was there? Roxanne thought back to her meeting with the slaver commander, to the way he'd looked at her. She remembered the hunger in his eyes as his eyes had swept down her body, how he had watched her like a hawk watching a mouse. Perhaps there was another way...but could she bring herself to do it?
"Actually, there might be another option...I remember when I was talking to him, the way he was looking at me, I think he liked me...maybe there would be a way to get out of this. To save those runaways. If I traded something else for you, instead of the bounties."
She hesitated, casting a nervous glance back at the office before turning back to her cousin. Her whole body shook, and the indecision was clear in her face.
"But...I don't know if I can..."
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Raena Fletcher
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 152
Age: 26
Physical Description: Standing at a height of six feet one inch, Raena Fletcher is a tall, very well-built young woman. Her skin is fairly pale, yet has a slight lively glow, and she has pale blue eyes that speak of a world weariness far beyond her age. Her snow white hair is always cut at about shoulder-length, silky and flowing and always well-kept despite her otherwise Spartan nature. She has full, though never painted lips, hardly ever seeming to turn up in a smile anymore. She has a long, deep scar running up from the bottom of her left jawline to the middle of her left cheek, marring her otherwise unblemished skin. Beneath her right eye, a tattoo in the shape of a fleur de lis has been inked. It looks almost ritual in nature, but its origins are as yet unknown.
================================
Clothes and Equipment: Over her travels, Raena has collected many pieces of heavy armour from her fallen foes and allies alike, melting it down and reforging it into a suit of plate maille unique to her and incredibly sturdy and heavy. The suit is stained forest green with bronze trim, a design embezzled in bronze on both pauldrons, one of a fleur de lis and the other a diving raven. Her bronze gorget has been shaped into the shape of a skull. In addition, a tattered orange-brown cloak wraps around her figure, obscuring her form in battle as well as adding an element of humility to her otherwise splendid armour. She does not tend to wear a helmet into battle, preferring the widest field of view as she can get.
As for armament, she tends to use a heavy enchanted two-handed flamberge sheathed upon her back as her primary weapon, with a short gladius and buckler as a backup. Finally, she carries a set of throwing knives within her cloak, and she's fairly proficient at aiming with them.
Outside of battle, she tends to wear simple linen clothing, preferring function and comfort over form. She hardly ever wears shoes outside her armour, either, having developed well-callused and strong feet to match her hands as a result.
Registered: Sept 7, 2015 16:22:46 GMT -8
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Post by Raena Fletcher on Apr 5, 2018 19:02:06 GMT -8
Raena nods to each of the guards as Roxanne approaches, ending their conversation, and the guards saddle up on destriers that stand tied up nearby. Raena gives a shallow smile to her cousin, until the smaller woman begins to speak. With each word, Raena's expression becomes more grim, and for the first time in perhaps their entire combined lives, a look of uncertainty comes across the woman's face. "That is...a novel approach, cousin. It would allow us to escape immediately and without the need to hunt down these escaped children. The slavers might find them anyway, but in the meantime if we truly wished to we could devote our time to finding them first and assisting in their disappearance. However, it would be...humiliating, I'm certain. Hrmmm," Raena intones, as much to herself as to her cousin. If Raena were in Roxanne's shoes, would she do it?
After much deliberation, the answer is "probably". There were lives on the line -- lives that belong to The Void, not some aged knight who can't bring himself to abandon his armour. But Raena has no reason to covet her material form, and she is not as individualistic as her cousin. It would likely affect the Void-worshipper much less intensely than it would her kin. Finally, after several moments of breaking eye contact and gazing off into the distance as she runs a fingertip over her facial scar, she turns back to Roxanne. "This is your choice. I will not tell you that you should. Tactically it is the superior option. Logically it is the superior option. But there is...more here, for you especially, than logic. I would do it with little trepidation, but I do not expect you to possess that sort of will. I will support whatever decision you make, my cousin," replies Raena, her tone softer, gentler than usual.
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Roxanne Fletcher
Main Character
Roleplay posts: 816
Age: 22
Physical Description: Roxanne is tall with white hair and a narrow, athletic build. She has a pleasant face and only a couple of scars.
Clothes and Equipment: Heavy armor, Elven bow (stolen), and a longsword.
Player's online availability : Early mornings and late evenings
Registered: Aug 2, 2015 8:58:10 GMT -8
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Post by Roxanne Fletcher on Apr 5, 2018 19:40:00 GMT -8
Roxanne hesitated again, biting her lip nervously. She couldn't possibly do this...but she had to. It was the right thing to do, to protect the children and her cousin at the cost of her own pride...was it worth it? What would Aegon think? No, she couldn't think of Aegon right now. If she so much as imagined his face, she'd never be able to go through with it. She put him out of her mind, closing her eyes.
"I-I have to do it, Raena. I'd never forgive myself if I brought children to slavery. I'll have to at least try. What other choice is there? What else can I do? We can't run. There's no way we could escape those guards. I've never done anything like this before, you know..."
She clutched Raena's hand for a few moments, squeezing it to try and settle her nerves, before releasing her and heading to the Commander's office. She wished she could walk in confidently, show that she was in charge, but was far too nervous. Instead, she stepped in hesitantly, face bright red and eyes downcast, unable to meet his gaze. When she spoke, her voice trembled.
"C-Commander...I have another offer. Something else in exchange for Raena. Not the bounties."
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Raena Fletcher
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 152
Age: 26
Physical Description: Standing at a height of six feet one inch, Raena Fletcher is a tall, very well-built young woman. Her skin is fairly pale, yet has a slight lively glow, and she has pale blue eyes that speak of a world weariness far beyond her age. Her snow white hair is always cut at about shoulder-length, silky and flowing and always well-kept despite her otherwise Spartan nature. She has full, though never painted lips, hardly ever seeming to turn up in a smile anymore. She has a long, deep scar running up from the bottom of her left jawline to the middle of her left cheek, marring her otherwise unblemished skin. Beneath her right eye, a tattoo in the shape of a fleur de lis has been inked. It looks almost ritual in nature, but its origins are as yet unknown.
================================
Clothes and Equipment: Over her travels, Raena has collected many pieces of heavy armour from her fallen foes and allies alike, melting it down and reforging it into a suit of plate maille unique to her and incredibly sturdy and heavy. The suit is stained forest green with bronze trim, a design embezzled in bronze on both pauldrons, one of a fleur de lis and the other a diving raven. Her bronze gorget has been shaped into the shape of a skull. In addition, a tattered orange-brown cloak wraps around her figure, obscuring her form in battle as well as adding an element of humility to her otherwise splendid armour. She does not tend to wear a helmet into battle, preferring the widest field of view as she can get.
As for armament, she tends to use a heavy enchanted two-handed flamberge sheathed upon her back as her primary weapon, with a short gladius and buckler as a backup. Finally, she carries a set of throwing knives within her cloak, and she's fairly proficient at aiming with them.
Outside of battle, she tends to wear simple linen clothing, preferring function and comfort over form. She hardly ever wears shoes outside her armour, either, having developed well-callused and strong feet to match her hands as a result.
Registered: Sept 7, 2015 16:22:46 GMT -8
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Post by Raena Fletcher on Apr 6, 2018 15:51:53 GMT -8
Raena returns the squeeze of her cousin's hand and walks with her to the Warden's quarters. None of the guards know what the two are up to, so dozens of pairs of inquisitive eyes follow them all the way to the door. When they arrive at the Warden's quarters, the posted guards allow the comparatively smaller and much more cooperative Roxanne through, barring Raena's entry with crossed halberds. She shoots them a withering look, but she acquiesces and stands back, leaning against the stone wall of the small building. This, it seems, Roxanne will have to carry out alone. Raena feels better about her cousin -- clearly the woman could withstand such a payment, and it's considerably less disgusting in Raena's mind than selfishly consigning a gaggle of kids one hardly knows to a life of pointless suffering. This option, however, makes the Void cultist no more comfortable with her own role. She should be helping in some way. She huffs and crosses her arms, growling at herself. She hates inaction.
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Commander Jaran Kharr
New
Roleplay posts: 4
Age: 46
Physical Description: A tall, powerful man, Jaran is a middle-aged warrior, standing at a height of just over six feet tall. His face is masculine and angular, covered with scars and nicks and browned by the sun over the many years of his service. He has a dusting of mid-length feathery sable hair, with piercing deep set eyes of a pale glacial blue. Despite his size, he carries himself with an air of elegance and grace befitting a knight, though his resting expression is a grim and serious one. All in all he is a very handsome but mostly normal human, but for when he smiles, revealing a pair of sharp artificial silvery fangs where his canines should be.
Clothes and Equipment: =========
Jaran's battle gear is a heavy set of steel plate armour inlaid with silver designs of a crescent moon, indicative of his position within the Silvermoon Slaver Cartel. The silver inlays glimmer brilliantly in the light, and the steel is extremely well taken care of and of the highest quality. Upon his back he wears a long silver cloak, fastened to his chest with a crescent moon broach, a long enchanted hand-and-a-half sword resting beneath its folds. Occasionally he may be seen with an oaken longbow strapped across his back, which he uses for hunting -- be his quarry beast or man.
Registered: Mar 28, 2018 7:18:08 GMT -8
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Post by Commander Jaran Kharr on Apr 6, 2018 16:05:59 GMT -8
Commander Kharr sits at his mahogany desk still as Roxanne enters. At first, he doesn't even look up from what he's doing as he hears the door swing shut, a long feathered quill scrawling rapidly over a piece of unrolled parchment. A silver candle burns beside it, dripping shining wax into a small catcher that wraps its way about the candlestick. A silver-plated seal sits beside that. The desk is no less messy than it was the first time, but something is different about the setup. Where once there was nothing lies a framed portrait of a gorgeous woman with flowing flame red hair and a freckled face, dressed in a conservative flowing gown sewn with forest green silk. Hugging her leg stands a bright-eyed little girl with a similar mane of glorious fiery hair. The painting is very lifelike, and from it one can see that the little one's eyes bear a striking resemblance to the commander's -- pale glacial blue and naturally piercing, yet considerably more innocent -- when compared to the woman's wise emerald oculi. The backdrop to the portrait appears to be a stretching mountain range, fog settling over the silhouettes of the sky-piercing peaks.
Finally, Jaran finishes writing, dipping the candle over to drop hot wax onto the bottom half, before pressing his seal down upon it. The seal hardens into the image of a crescent moon encompassed by a stylized six-pointed star. The seal glints in the light of the candle as he rolls the parchment up rapidly, and raises those cold eyes to Roxanne. He raises a brow at her changed demeanor, and his voice comes in a soft, strangely soothing baritone. "Yes, Miss Fletcher? An offer, you say? I thought you did not have any coin, have you somehow stumbled onto a lost family fortune buried somewhere far away with which to occupy my men? Are you to offer me some great and powerful relic that I will find, once you leave, works but once?" he asks. His lips twitch up into a light grin. "Trickery will not work on me, you know. I can see you are nervous about whatever it is you are to offer me, so I can assure you I will take no other material as payment."
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Roxanne Fletcher
Main Character
Roleplay posts: 816
Age: 22
Physical Description: Roxanne is tall with white hair and a narrow, athletic build. She has a pleasant face and only a couple of scars.
Clothes and Equipment: Heavy armor, Elven bow (stolen), and a longsword.
Player's online availability : Early mornings and late evenings
Registered: Aug 2, 2015 8:58:10 GMT -8
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Post by Roxanne Fletcher on Apr 6, 2018 17:02:50 GMT -8
Roxanne was grateful for Raena walking up with her, even though she was forced to leave her behind and go in alone. Stepping inside, she shut the door behind her, stepping up hesitantly towards the desk. When the man asked for clarification, she hesitated. Would she have to spell it out? That made it worse somehow, having to admit her intentions rather than have him guess. She took a deep breath, hesitating for a moment before placing her hands down on the desk and leaning across towards the Commander.
"There's no trickery, Commander. No material goods. I'm offering..."
She choked, pausing for a moment before managing to continue. She looked up at the Commander, barely able to meet his eye.
"I-I'm offering myself to you. My body. Just for the night, in exchange for Raena. I'm not hunting after those children, I won't. I can't. There's no way I could ever hunt down anyone so young, especially knowing what's in store for them, for no other crime than wanting their freedom. It'd be inhumane."
Biting her lip nervously, she watched the man's expression. Would he accept her offer? Refuse? Demand more? She didn't know what to expect from this man, and it scared her. All that she knew was that she had to protect her cousin at all costs.
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