Rococo Fletcher
Established
Roleplay posts: 15
Age: 37
Physical Description: She has the Fletcher family's trademark white hair, worn long; deep blue eyes and a face sprinkled with freckles. She stands at 5'11" tall enough to peer over the heads of most women and look a knight in the eye. She dresses a little like a rakish pirate, with a flouncy white shirt and under-bust black corset. Black velvet trousers and leather knee boots with spurs complete the ensemble, often topped by a short cape adorned with a large flower pinned to the lapel.
Clothes and Equipment: Rococo travels everywhere with her baby, carried in a sling under her cape, or bundled in her arms. His name is Chocolate Boy. If you look closely there is something a little "off" about this infant, but if you look too closely then Rococo may plant a dagger into your leg. Rococo wears her dagger strapped to her thigh and has a couple of other small knives and little tools about her person as well as multiple pouches of what she calls "ingredients", although it is unclear what they are ingredients for.
Player's online availability : Around :D
Registered: Apr 18, 2018 8:50:13 GMT -8
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Post by Rococo Fletcher on May 20, 2018 13:43:49 GMT -8
Rococo held up a gloved hand as Rainier started talking about his intentions. “Shh! I'm not interested in hearing any sentence with the word 'church' in it,” she stated, and then proceeded to hum loudly or talk over him with musings about the local area until he stopped going on about religion. When he began to ask her about her designs on Roy, she began to listen to him again. “My dear Rainier, surely you have my intentions wrong,” she hissed with her blue eyes narrowed to slits as she leaned over the table towards him. “He does have the look of death and with good reason, for he is on a precarious path, Rainier, a precarious path. One one side, the unknown – on the other, the abyss of certain death! The wind can blow him either way, and I am here to provide a sail. I seek to protect the boy not harm him. I do not wish ill to family, even you, though you are surely some product of incestuous union between a woman and her own fart. Attempt to stop me and you will be condemning Roy to his own demise. Just think about that!”
Just then Roy deigned to return. Rococo smiled sweetly at him as she took Chocolate Boy back from Roy's arms and began to rock him gently. “What a good baby you are,” she cooed, beaming into Chocolate Boy's face, before she looked up at Roy, and then passed her quizzical gaze to Rainier. So that the decision did not lie with Rainier, she stood up, and grasped hold of Roy's sleeve, pulling him slightly away from the table. “Of course, young Roy. What is it that you need to talk to me about? You haven't wet yourself again have you?”
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Rainier Fletcher
Established
Roleplay posts: 27
Age: 42
Physical Description: Rainier towers above most of his peers, standing at 6'7". His rather thin body, caused by years of abstinence, is hidden underneath the folds of his cassock.
His thin and angular face hides his true nature, making him appear stern with his roman nose, high and sharp cheek bones, thin lips, and prominent jaw. His green eyes twinkle with intelligence and humor known only to him. Like the other natural born members of the Fletcher clan, he was born with white hair, that would grow thick on his head if it wasn't tonsured.
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Clothes and Equipment: Rainier is a priest of the Church of Varafel by vocation, and thus is equipped like one. He has two cassocks, one white, and the other black, and he carries the spare in his satchel. He tries to keep his black leather shoes glossy for all occasions, but that often proves impossible as he walks everywhere. For rainy weather, he has a dark gray cassock.
His personal belongings are stowed in a grey canvas bag slung across his body, and include: his prayer book, his ink and spare quills, a journal, a pen knife, and his gold wire rimmed spectacles for when he has to read.
He also has a quarter staff he uses as a walking stick, and if needs be, for self defense.
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Registered: Apr 24, 2018 7:28:30 GMT -8
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Post by Rainier Fletcher on May 29, 2018 20:19:31 GMT -8
Despite him saying that he didn't care what path Rococo took, he still found himself somewhat hoping that his cousin... if that was what she was he wasn't quite sure to be honest, would at least attempt to live her life right. But alas, she apparently was dedicated to her life of hedonism, which didn't upset him much.
What upset him, no, angered him, was that she accused him without allowing him to make the simplest of explanations. He generally did not get angry, he found it hurt his soul to allow the smallest sliver out, and he would always try to be pragmatist. But, he hated it when people talked over him, especially when he was trying to be reasonable and hear her out. The lack of respect it showed, the lack of good faith towards a fellow being, it just fueled his anger.
He swallowed, a hard feat considering the tightening of his throat, trying to hide the shaking of his body as he got angrier, and angrier as Rococo expected him to listen, when she wouldn't even offer the same courtesy. It was visible he was fighting back his temper, appearing to be losing the fight as the top of his ears grew red.
The Mother is my shepherd, I shall not want. She maketh me to lie down in green pastures. The Mother is my shepherd, I shall not want. She maketh me to lie down in green pastures. The Mother is my shepherd, I shall not want. She maketh me to lie down in green pastures.
Mentally, Rainier kept repeating the passage, until finally he felt his temper begin to abate, and finally heard Roy. That's when he noticed he was gritting his teeth, so hard he could feel the strain on his jaw. Practically growling, he said, "Feel free Master Roy, thank you for grabbing my breakfast."
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Royal Fletcher
Widely Known
Roleplay posts: 1,339
Age: 19
Physical Description: Royal is a pale boy with dark bags under his bluish eyes, an unfortunate result of too many days spent staring at books indoors by candlelight. He's thin, of slightly below average height, and has white hair.
Clothes and Equipment: Roy carries around an enchanted parasol at all times, which floats above him and shields him from the sunlight. He also has a sword, a gift from his cousin Roxanne. His pockets are always filled with an unreasonable amount of chocolate, and he usually has some sort of cake or other baked goods on his person.
Allegiances: The Fletcher Family
Player's online availability : Unreasonably often
Registered: Jun 3, 2015 19:45:42 GMT -8
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Post by Royal Fletcher on May 31, 2018 13:00:44 GMT -8
In his frightened state, Roy took little notice of his uncle's apparent annoyance. Following his aunt some ways away from the table, he glanced nervously at Chocolate Boy before leaning in to whisper to her.
"Wet myself? No, it's not that! It's...it's Chocolate Boy. He whispered to me! He said...he said something about feathers. Black or gold wings, and something about me catching a falling feather...what is he, Aunt Rococo? What does it mean? What do we have to do? Should we leave for the islands now? Where are the islands, anyway?"
His voice trembled as he spoke, unable to let go of Chocolate Boy's unsettling words. What on earth had his aunt created? How had Chocolate Boy come into existence, and why did he know things? Why couldn't Roy have stayed home today? Of course, it was probably a good thing that he'd run into Rococo, or else he wouldn't have known about his impending doom...if Chocolate Boy was Aunt Rococo's child, did that make him Roy's cousin? Did it count for small creepy brown babies?
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Rococo Fletcher
Established
Roleplay posts: 15
Age: 37
Physical Description: She has the Fletcher family's trademark white hair, worn long; deep blue eyes and a face sprinkled with freckles. She stands at 5'11" tall enough to peer over the heads of most women and look a knight in the eye. She dresses a little like a rakish pirate, with a flouncy white shirt and under-bust black corset. Black velvet trousers and leather knee boots with spurs complete the ensemble, often topped by a short cape adorned with a large flower pinned to the lapel.
Clothes and Equipment: Rococo travels everywhere with her baby, carried in a sling under her cape, or bundled in her arms. His name is Chocolate Boy. If you look closely there is something a little "off" about this infant, but if you look too closely then Rococo may plant a dagger into your leg. Rococo wears her dagger strapped to her thigh and has a couple of other small knives and little tools about her person as well as multiple pouches of what she calls "ingredients", although it is unclear what they are ingredients for.
Player's online availability : Around :D
Registered: Apr 18, 2018 8:50:13 GMT -8
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Post by Rococo Fletcher on Jun 4, 2018 9:09:15 GMT -8
Rococo didn’t appear to notice that Rainier wasn’t listening to her story, but she did see the reddening of his ears, taking it as a sign of embarrassment or righteous indignation. It was worthless talking to the man. Priests were so intractable. “Naked mole rat,” she hissed under her breath before she took herself aside with Roy and Chocolate Boy. “He spoke to you?” her eyes widened a little in surprise, and she wrinkled her freckled nose thoughtfully. “That’s good. That’s good, Roy. Normally he doesn’t talk to anyone except me. It means that either he trusts you or his warnings are of the utmost importance.”
Rococo rocked Chocolate Boy gently, and she looked off into the middle distance as she considered the images that Roy had gleaned from Chocolate Boy’s whispers. “I believe we should leave as soon as possible. It’s too much of a risk to dawdle. I don’t know exactly where the islands are, but I have heard that there is a strange land off the coast of Isra that seems to match the descriptions… coupled with my divinations I believe it is a good place to start. We should make for Port Silverion with haste.”
“Hmm, what was that Chocolate Boy?” said Rococo, inclining her ear towards Chocolate Boy as she lifted him closer. “We shouldn’t bring Rainier? It would be inauspicious?” She sighed. “Well, Roy. I’m sorry but you’ll have to tell Uncle Rainier that he isn’t welcome on our journey.” If Roy listened closely he would have heard no sounds at all emitted from the mouth of the small brown creature.
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Royal Fletcher
Widely Known
Roleplay posts: 1,339
Age: 19
Physical Description: Royal is a pale boy with dark bags under his bluish eyes, an unfortunate result of too many days spent staring at books indoors by candlelight. He's thin, of slightly below average height, and has white hair.
Clothes and Equipment: Roy carries around an enchanted parasol at all times, which floats above him and shields him from the sunlight. He also has a sword, a gift from his cousin Roxanne. His pockets are always filled with an unreasonable amount of chocolate, and he usually has some sort of cake or other baked goods on his person.
Allegiances: The Fletcher Family
Player's online availability : Unreasonably often
Registered: Jun 3, 2015 19:45:42 GMT -8
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Post by Royal Fletcher on Jun 19, 2018 20:19:16 GMT -8
Roy nodded, hanging on his aunt's every word. She seemed so knowledgeable about this, surely she knew best! If she said that they had to leave to Port Silverion, then leave they must...perhaps Robert would be able to help him with a ship. Or maybe Aunt Rococo would have a plan...regardless, it seemed that they had to move immediately. His life depended on it...apparently. However, when his aunt seemed to consult her little chocolate child, Roy didn't hear anything at all. Had Chocolate Boy actually spoken? Was his aunt trying to trick him? Why would she ever do that? Perhaps she was telling the truth...or maybe not. He had never felt particularly comfortable around his aunt, and certainly didn't want to go on a journey to some mysterious island alone with her. What if she decided to feed him to Chocolate Boy? Perhaps it would be best to bring Uncle Rainier along. Taking a deep breath, he shook his head at his aunt.
"I dunno, Aunt Rococo...I think he should come along. It might, uh, be safer with more people. And besides, he knows all sorts of things...some of it might be useful. Don't you think?"
Without waiting for a response, he hurried to his uncle, glad to get away from his aunt and Chocolate Boy even for a moment. The little child creeped him out, and his aunt wasn't exactly a comforting presence either.
"Uncle Rainier! Um...Aunt Rococo and I need your help. Do you want to go explore an island off the coast of Isra? It's important...for reasons. Aunt Rococo said so."
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Rainier Fletcher
Established
Roleplay posts: 27
Age: 42
Physical Description: Rainier towers above most of his peers, standing at 6'7". His rather thin body, caused by years of abstinence, is hidden underneath the folds of his cassock.
His thin and angular face hides his true nature, making him appear stern with his roman nose, high and sharp cheek bones, thin lips, and prominent jaw. His green eyes twinkle with intelligence and humor known only to him. Like the other natural born members of the Fletcher clan, he was born with white hair, that would grow thick on his head if it wasn't tonsured.
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Clothes and Equipment: Rainier is a priest of the Church of Varafel by vocation, and thus is equipped like one. He has two cassocks, one white, and the other black, and he carries the spare in his satchel. He tries to keep his black leather shoes glossy for all occasions, but that often proves impossible as he walks everywhere. For rainy weather, he has a dark gray cassock.
His personal belongings are stowed in a grey canvas bag slung across his body, and include: his prayer book, his ink and spare quills, a journal, a pen knife, and his gold wire rimmed spectacles for when he has to read.
He also has a quarter staff he uses as a walking stick, and if needs be, for self defense.
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Registered: Apr 24, 2018 7:28:30 GMT -8
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Post by Rainier Fletcher on Jun 26, 2018 18:21:16 GMT -8
Rainier welcomed the reprieve young master Roy brought by pulling Rococo away from the table. He was halfway tempted to beat a hasty retreat back to the open road to continue his peaceful existence as an itinerant preacher from the rest of his clan, because apparently his earlier assumption about them perhaps changing was most definitely wrong. Taking a few small bites of the apple tart, he found that his stomach was too clenched to contemplate eating the whole thing. He grabbed a spare rag from his bag, and wrapped the tart before stowing it for his attempted escape.
...which was spoiled by Roy. Crap. This boy knows nothing about timing. Being forced to sit and be polite instead of kicking up a cloud of dust as he left the town as quick as he could, Rainier listened to Roy's plight. Traveling with Rococo? Roy stands no chance to fight against her corruption... Damnit. Resignedly, he answered with a sigh, "I'll go with you Master Roy. Someone must balance out our cousin's influence."
Standing up from the table, he picked up his staff, and began to pray for the patience in thought and deed he knew he would need for this journey.
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Rococo Fletcher
Established
Roleplay posts: 15
Age: 37
Physical Description: She has the Fletcher family's trademark white hair, worn long; deep blue eyes and a face sprinkled with freckles. She stands at 5'11" tall enough to peer over the heads of most women and look a knight in the eye. She dresses a little like a rakish pirate, with a flouncy white shirt and under-bust black corset. Black velvet trousers and leather knee boots with spurs complete the ensemble, often topped by a short cape adorned with a large flower pinned to the lapel.
Clothes and Equipment: Rococo travels everywhere with her baby, carried in a sling under her cape, or bundled in her arms. His name is Chocolate Boy. If you look closely there is something a little "off" about this infant, but if you look too closely then Rococo may plant a dagger into your leg. Rococo wears her dagger strapped to her thigh and has a couple of other small knives and little tools about her person as well as multiple pouches of what she calls "ingredients", although it is unclear what they are ingredients for.
Player's online availability : Around :D
Registered: Apr 18, 2018 8:50:13 GMT -8
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Post by Rococo Fletcher on Jul 5, 2018 8:41:11 GMT -8
Rococo eyed Roy intensely, trying to enact her most mysterious and ominous expression to hammer home her little ruse. However, she saw clearly the confusion and disbelief in little Roy’s eyes. “No, I don’t think. Nothing he claims to know is of any use whatsoever.” Religion dulled the wits, that was Rococo’s philosophy, and it had yet to be disproved by Rainier. But Roy had already begun to scamper away, and she had to admit defeat. “Is it worth saving little Roy if we have to spend time with Rainier?” she asked Chocolate Boy, but she was aware that her own desires were far less of a priority than saving her little cousin from a terrible, agonising demise. She followed Roy back to the table at a distance, taking her time. “You should hope that your idiocy doesn’t balance out my wisdom,” she said snidely to Rainier, raising an eyebrow. “I presume you want Roy to live a long and … moderately… happy life? Then perhaps you should take note of my warnings. If Roy listens to you and dies,” she leaned in close to Rainier’s face and bared her teeth, “then his death will be your fault, priest! You’d be praying to be forgiven for that till the end of your miserable days!” “Roy, come!” she said, grabbing for his upper arm. “Don’t forget your clogs.” And with that, Rococo strode off towards the edge of town and the direction of Port Silverion, making sure to kick a few tulips on the way out.
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Thaelyn Mortris
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 310
Age: 22
Physical Description: At 5'7", Thaelyn is just above average height for a woman, with a slender build that makes her just shy of willowy. Slight curves and a womanly shape keep her from looking boyish, if only barely. She has long red hair that falls to her knees, and rich crimson eyes that are usually filled with curiosity, set in a face with delicate features.
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Clothes and Equipment: Typically, Thaelyn wears a set of white and blood red armor which is inscribed inside with a complex series of magical runes. This provides her armor with a strength that belies its lightness, as well as serving as a sort of magical buffer that wards off most spells. She also carries a spear, or perhaps it's a staff - she seems to use it as a combination of both, using it both to fight and to channel her own magical abilities.
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Player's online availability : Evenings. (EST)
Registered: Aug 15, 2016 12:11:27 GMT -8
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Post by Thaelyn Mortris on Feb 17, 2019 18:58:04 GMT -8
Several days had passed since Thaelyn had had the.. unfortunate encounter with her past in an old, forsaken library. It had done little to change her current pattern of existence, which mostly consisted of roaming, picking up bounties, getting into conflicts whenever they arose, and drinking more than she probably should. As she wandered into yet another town, she idly wondered if Alden was somehow going to try and keep tabs on her. She couldn't imagine how he might manage that. She had left her Sun Marshals pin behind the first time she'd left Isra, after all, but he had managed to find her just a few days ago, so...
This train of thought was abandoned when she entered the town proper and began her search for a tavern, or perhaps a signboard of some sort. While she didn't need the work or care about the money, she was hoping to eventually encounter an enemy that would bring an end to her, and if she helped some people out in the process, so be it. Most people tended to avoid her, just because of her armored appearance and the weapon she carried, but she also didn't care very much whether or not they got out of her way as she moved through the streets. She didn't even seem to notice. If anyone really looked at her, they'd find her expression distant and her gaze cool.
She stopped whenever she found a tavern or a signboard. Whichever came first. Though there seemed to be people gathered in one particular area, which was.. interesting. Silently, the blood mage gravitated that way.
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Gabriel Taurtoya
Established
Roleplay posts: 32
Age: 24
Physical Description: Standing just under six even, lean and lithe, with feathery chestnut hair that is often quite messy. His brown eyes could be described as soulful, his features slightly cherubic and youthful as he is unable to grow a beard. Something that bothers him a fair bit.
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Clothes and Equipment: A leather jerkin for protection, his father's rapier, and traveling supplies.
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Registered: Jan 12, 2018 17:10:29 GMT -8
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Post by Gabriel Taurtoya on Feb 17, 2019 19:13:03 GMT -8
Thaelyn was not the only one wandering without purpose in The Town of Hollin. Gabriel Taurtoya, son of the greatest blacksmith in all of Rondon, hero of the Rondon Zephyr war, slayer of Count Trake, and master swordsmen had been bereft of one for some time. When he'd finally pursued his father's killer to the capital city of Zephyr and driven his sword through the one-eyed man's good eye, he'd thought that he would find some semblance of peace. He'd been wrong.
Haunted by the death he'd seen during the war and the realization that revenge would not bring his father, who had been his only living family, back had left the young swordsmen with a great yawning emptiness within his spirit. Not knowing what else to do he'd returned to his father's shop, gathered the man's tools, put them on his back and with his father's masterwork at his side he'd left Rondon. He'd not felt that there was anything left for him within his own country.
Gabriel's wanderings had not been free of adventure. The young man's fire may have dulled to an ember on most days, but those embers could easily be stirred back to a blaze even if it was only briefly. When he saw someone in need of help he found it in himself to once again fight and he'd saved more than a few people in his wanderings. Now he was in a gathering in the small town waiting to hear what the messanger that had just arrived had to say.
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Thaelyn Mortris
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 310
Age: 22
Physical Description: At 5'7", Thaelyn is just above average height for a woman, with a slender build that makes her just shy of willowy. Slight curves and a womanly shape keep her from looking boyish, if only barely. She has long red hair that falls to her knees, and rich crimson eyes that are usually filled with curiosity, set in a face with delicate features.
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Clothes and Equipment: Typically, Thaelyn wears a set of white and blood red armor which is inscribed inside with a complex series of magical runes. This provides her armor with a strength that belies its lightness, as well as serving as a sort of magical buffer that wards off most spells. She also carries a spear, or perhaps it's a staff - she seems to use it as a combination of both, using it both to fight and to channel her own magical abilities.
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Player's online availability : Evenings. (EST)
Registered: Aug 15, 2016 12:11:27 GMT -8
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Post by Thaelyn Mortris on Feb 17, 2019 19:27:25 GMT -8
Thaelyn approached the gathering and realized it was a crier, telling a sad tale. Hearing the name Esdara sparked a memory. The flying isle had appeared before she'd arrived in this world, but she'd always wanted to go see it. Then.. fate had intervened before she could. The messenger was saying something about how the island had returned, and was apparently in dire need of assistance. She heard evil forces, a liberation effort...
That was all she needed to hear.
While it seemed most people were interested in talking amongst themselves rather than showing any interest in helping the nation, Thaelyn quickly turned and began making for the town exit. She didn't want anyone to see her using her magic. That tended to spark some.. unpleasant consequences. As she weaved through the crowd, she darted around a young man, and had to adjust her grip on her staff so she didn't accidentally hit him with it, murmuring a quiet apology as she lightly bumped his shoulder with hers in the process.
"Sorry."
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Gabriel Taurtoya
Established
Roleplay posts: 32
Age: 24
Physical Description: Standing just under six even, lean and lithe, with feathery chestnut hair that is often quite messy. His brown eyes could be described as soulful, his features slightly cherubic and youthful as he is unable to grow a beard. Something that bothers him a fair bit.
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Clothes and Equipment: A leather jerkin for protection, his father's rapier, and traveling supplies.
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Registered: Jan 12, 2018 17:10:29 GMT -8
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Post by Gabriel Taurtoya on Feb 17, 2019 19:38:56 GMT -8
Unfortunately for Thaelyn, her attempt to weave by Gabriel was not as successful as she might have hoped. Purely because the young man was wearing a rather oversized bag. As her shoulder bumped into his, her armor caught on the bag and suddenly the two are in a bit of a struggle as Gabriel fights to keep his balance as Thaelyn tries to brush past. Considering that he was carrying around forty pounds of smithing tools inside of the heavy leather bag the ultimate result as that he tips backward having to roll in an attempt to catch himself as he is sent crashing to the ground.
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Thaelyn Mortris
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 310
Age: 22
Physical Description: At 5'7", Thaelyn is just above average height for a woman, with a slender build that makes her just shy of willowy. Slight curves and a womanly shape keep her from looking boyish, if only barely. She has long red hair that falls to her knees, and rich crimson eyes that are usually filled with curiosity, set in a face with delicate features.
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Clothes and Equipment: Typically, Thaelyn wears a set of white and blood red armor which is inscribed inside with a complex series of magical runes. This provides her armor with a strength that belies its lightness, as well as serving as a sort of magical buffer that wards off most spells. She also carries a spear, or perhaps it's a staff - she seems to use it as a combination of both, using it both to fight and to channel her own magical abilities.
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Player's online availability : Evenings. (EST)
Registered: Aug 15, 2016 12:11:27 GMT -8
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Post by Thaelyn Mortris on Feb 17, 2019 20:10:45 GMT -8
In what had recently become a rare display of emotion, Thaelyn's eyes widened as her attempt to veer around the man resulted instead in her armor catching on his bag, his overbalancing, and both of them going tumbling to the ground. She grunted as she halfway landed on top of him, her gauntlet-clad fist and the haft of her spear pressing uncomfortably into her stomach. Great. Just what she needed. Attention drawn to her.
"My apologies. Let me..."
This was muttered as she let go of her spear and pulled her arm out from under her, twisting somewhat awkwardly so that she could work her hand up and attempt to free the metal edge of her spaulder from where it had caught on the leather. Utterly fantastic. It took a little bit of doing, but she finally got the unexpectedly sharp metal edge to let go of the leather it had caught, and then she was pushing hastily away from the man, doing her best not to meet his gaze as she grabbed her spear and scrambled to her feet, muttering.
"Sorry. Are you hurt?"
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Gabriel Taurtoya
Established
Roleplay posts: 32
Age: 24
Physical Description: Standing just under six even, lean and lithe, with feathery chestnut hair that is often quite messy. His brown eyes could be described as soulful, his features slightly cherubic and youthful as he is unable to grow a beard. Something that bothers him a fair bit.
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Clothes and Equipment: A leather jerkin for protection, his father's rapier, and traveling supplies.
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Registered: Jan 12, 2018 17:10:29 GMT -8
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Post by Gabriel Taurtoya on Feb 22, 2019 11:12:20 GMT -8
Naturally, Gabriel is hardly inactive as she flails against him. He'd not expected to be dragged down to the ground but he had felt the weight of his pack dragging him so he knew it was not the woman's fault. After a few moments they managed to disentangle and he slips free of his back to rise to his feet without its encumbrance.
"Think nothing of it, senora."
He says as he dusts himself off, he would have to be more mindful in the future the pack was important but certain it would be a liability in combat. Bending down he grabs the straps and hauls it from the ground to resling it onto his shoulders.
"I am unharmed, thank you for your concern."
His attention turns to the crier and he grimaces.
"More war in the world. Still, I'll be lending my sword."
This is said less to her and more to himself as he considers how he will get to this Esdara. He'd just assumed the busy woman would leave once she'd been assured he was unharmed.
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Thaelyn Mortris
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 310
Age: 22
Physical Description: At 5'7", Thaelyn is just above average height for a woman, with a slender build that makes her just shy of willowy. Slight curves and a womanly shape keep her from looking boyish, if only barely. She has long red hair that falls to her knees, and rich crimson eyes that are usually filled with curiosity, set in a face with delicate features.
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Clothes and Equipment: Typically, Thaelyn wears a set of white and blood red armor which is inscribed inside with a complex series of magical runes. This provides her armor with a strength that belies its lightness, as well as serving as a sort of magical buffer that wards off most spells. She also carries a spear, or perhaps it's a staff - she seems to use it as a combination of both, using it both to fight and to channel her own magical abilities.
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Player's online availability : Evenings. (EST)
Registered: Aug 15, 2016 12:11:27 GMT -8
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Post by Thaelyn Mortris on Feb 22, 2019 18:52:27 GMT -8
He was uninjured. That was good. Much as Thaelyn had changed over the months, she still couldn't quite stomach the idea of hurting someone innocent. With a firm nod, she started to walk away, only to find her path temporarily blocked by people shifting about. Irritation threatened to rise, but she firmly tamped it back down, and waited for the path to clear, as it inevitably would.
As Fate would have it, however, this meant she lingered just long enough to hear the man she'd unintentionally bowled over say something about the events involving Esdara, and how he meant to go there. She cast a sidelong look at him. He didn't seem to be a magic user of any sort, at least not that she could discern. Considering the crier had said something about the Esdarans only staying where they were for a day...
Well. She'd changed somewhat, but apparently, helping people even in such mundane matters was still a part of her.
"..The southern edges of the Land Tillers' State is far from here. You might not make it in time before the Esdarans leave. I was going to make a portal there. You're welcome to use it, too, if you like."
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Gabriel Taurtoya
Established
Roleplay posts: 32
Age: 24
Physical Description: Standing just under six even, lean and lithe, with feathery chestnut hair that is often quite messy. His brown eyes could be described as soulful, his features slightly cherubic and youthful as he is unable to grow a beard. Something that bothers him a fair bit.
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Clothes and Equipment: A leather jerkin for protection, his father's rapier, and traveling supplies.
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Registered: Jan 12, 2018 17:10:29 GMT -8
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Post by Gabriel Taurtoya on Feb 24, 2019 16:13:56 GMT -8
The woman who bowled him over speaks and Gabriel's attention flicks back to her in momentary surprise. He'd not expected her to stick around and it takes him a moment to process what she'd said. A portal? He knew of such things. Before the war such acts of magic had been beyond his ken, in fairness they were barely within it now. He'd know both sides had used such things to transport troops but not the front line infantry such as himself, sappers and other specialists had gotten such treatment.
"I..." He says not quite sure what to say, but ultimately he bows to hear. "Thank you Senora, it is most appreciated." If she could save him the walk so much the better he supposed. It would be a shame to arrive late after all.
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Thaelyn Mortris
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 310
Age: 22
Physical Description: At 5'7", Thaelyn is just above average height for a woman, with a slender build that makes her just shy of willowy. Slight curves and a womanly shape keep her from looking boyish, if only barely. She has long red hair that falls to her knees, and rich crimson eyes that are usually filled with curiosity, set in a face with delicate features.
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Clothes and Equipment: Typically, Thaelyn wears a set of white and blood red armor which is inscribed inside with a complex series of magical runes. This provides her armor with a strength that belies its lightness, as well as serving as a sort of magical buffer that wards off most spells. She also carries a spear, or perhaps it's a staff - she seems to use it as a combination of both, using it both to fight and to channel her own magical abilities.
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Player's online availability : Evenings. (EST)
Registered: Aug 15, 2016 12:11:27 GMT -8
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Post by Thaelyn Mortris on Feb 26, 2019 19:05:42 GMT -8
Rather than speak in reply, Thaelyn simply nodded to his thanks, then turned and began making her way through the crowd. As she navigated her way to the outskirts of the town, she surreptitiously drew a knife from her belt and cut her palm, beginning to gather magic for the portal. Once they were outside the town proper and away from prying eyes, she knelt and propped her spear against her shoulder, then began to draw a series of runes and glyphs on the ground with her own blood. Once the circle of symbols was drawn, she pressed her hand to it to activate the magic, then stepped back.
Within a few moments, a hole had seemingly been torn in the air before them, revealing the waving grasses of the savannah, and the armored figures beyond it. Without a word, she stepped through the portal and pressed her bloodied hand to its wavering edge, keeping it open so the man could join her. Thaelyn glanced at him and tilted her head, indicating it was safe for him to step through.
<Exit to Land Tillers State>
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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 May 15, 2019 16:25:23 GMT -8
It had, as always, been a pleasant day in Hollin. Its tulips filled the air with an intoxicating scent, and the soft drone of bumblebees mingled with the pleasantries of a well-fed and happy people going about their daily duties. Pastries lined the sills of windows, their scent wafting over the passer-by, even as they competed against the fragrance of a sea of flowers. The air was charged with the hope and prosperity of people who had carved out their little niche in the world and were all the happier for it. Had the people realized that such beauty would be the last they saw of their beloved homes they would no doubt have given it the appreciation it deserved. Or, more wisely, they would have considered keeping better watch.
As a sky of warm pastels faded to its customary darkness, the people tucked themselves away. Off in the distance, however, something was approaching like a sea of mottled green and sleek black. Scuttling, spindly legs brushed through the tulips as if they weren't there, though the people would not be so lucky. Hideous spiders, each the size of a man with some reaching near the size of horses approached the city with barely a sound. The vanguard of a horrific attack. The night watch barely had time to cry out before the beasts were upon them, burying dagger-like fangs into their flesh and injecting a paralytic venom. There and then they began their evil work, spinnerets working as they cocooned their victims into convenient bundles and discarded them on the streets, setting out for new prey. Behind them, were their only slightly-more-intelligent masters. Hobgoblins marched over the flowers, trampling them in their wake. Hefting cruel falchions they descended onto the town, just as the first screams of terror broke through the formerly peaceful air.
Men ran from their homes, armed with whatever they could find. Rusty swords and well-worn pitchforks did little, however, to armed and armored enemies. A brave man charged one of the spiders, the pitchfork sticking home as he drove it into a nearby wall, trying to pin the struggling beast to some effect until a hobgoblin from behind beheaded him with a wicked blow. Women and children had little time to escape, bludgeons and captured in nets or by the shackled of hobgoblins or, of they were less fortunate, making it far enough from the city that more ravenous spiders ran them down like oversized, impossibly terrifying dogs, bounding well over twenty feet to capture and pin them. The pleasant fragrances that had once dominated the pleasant village was now tainted by the coppery smell of blood and viscera. Hobgoblins smashed in doors, looting through valuables and grabbing up any humans that thought they may be able to hide away. Their keen scent let few escape.
Even these creatures weren't the most terrible thing to descend on this sleepy little town, however. There among the green men, towered a single, brutish creature, face clad in black metal that glinted in the moonlight. Vash the Black surveyed the town with relish, even getting the chance to crush the skull of one would-be hero that had managed to dig up his father's old sword. This was what he loved. He didn't really have to work. Not on a town this ridiculously unprotected. He'd half expected there to be some sort of terrible wizard or yet another dragon that would defend it. (A large reason he had waited so long to make his appearance)But these were merely humans. Soft, weak, and fat on prosperity.
It only took half the night to complete the raid, with only two casualties. Admittedly, those had both been from overzealous spiders attacking their own men, but you had to break a few skulls to make a skull throne. As shackled or webbed humans were hauled away in wagons, or in marching lines flanked by their captors, and bundles and chests were filled to the brim with loot to be hauled away Vash admired the extent of the damage dealt. Even corpses were brought along. You could never have too many rations, after all. The town, broken and ransacked stood like a skeletal effigy of the life and vibrance it had once had. Then, whirling Meteor it burst into flame and at last, with a sweeping blow a rolling wheel of black fire impacted a nearby building, causing it to burst into flames. The Gnoll turned, padding away after his men as the ghost town of Hollin burned with demonic fire.
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