Telemachon
Established
. . A̢̡̰̤͖̥̘̿́̑́͂̂̒͜ͅ n̶̨̮̘̥̱̾̋́́̕̚͜͜ g̷̨̙̼̥̩̠͍̘̯͊̐͑͂̂̓͐̀͗̋ ḙ̖̱̳̗̾͒̋͜͠͠ r̢̺͖̯͉̉͑̀̊̂̌̅̐͗ͅ . .
Roleplay posts: 49
Age: Unaccountable.
Physical Description: Telemachon is a being of enormous proportions, on the very edge of human possibility for musculature, height and build. The man has jet-black hair and eyes that have no discernible iris, simply one large dark pupil. Clean shaven on his face his hair is short but spiked and messy. He appears youthful and well-built in most manners with a "baby face" save for wrinkles, heavy bags under his sleepless red eyes, a strong set of cheeks, and appearance as though he was repeatedly whacked with both sharp and blunt sides of a shovel. His skin varies from youthful and smooth to rough and aged in texture, naturally quite pale but usually in a light beige-copper tint from his travels.
Clothes and Equipment: He has thick and ornate armour seemingly writhing to new cruel shapes when one is not looking upon it. Upon close examination it would appear to be part of one whole piece, partially explaining the occasional creak as its wearer moves. His only permanent weapons are two long spikes coming from the armour on either wrist, but he easily materializes weapons akin to his armour as an innate skill.
Player's online availability : All the time, but I might not be on when it says I am :[
Registered: Apr 20, 2018 2:42:56 GMT -8
|
Post by Telemachon on May 22, 2018 10:30:52 GMT -8
To the deserts of Aridia, Telemachon strode. It had been long since he went in this direction, maybe a whole century. His memory often failed him but perhaps he could remember what lived here - if this was the right path anyway. As he'd walk on in the scorching heat an occasionally bead of sweat would trickle down to his heavy foot-prints. Despite this, he went on for a long time before resting a minute every other day he was going towards the land people referred to as Aridia. Yet despite these traits he didn't seem to need water or food for his journey.
As he got closer, he kept eyes out for the enigmatic ruins of the land.
|
|
JacktheRatking
Established
Roleplay posts: 15
Age: 12
Physical Description: A short, skinny boy, with a bit more body hair than normal.
His outward appearance is
Clothes and Equipment: A simple tunic, wooden staff, and satchel filled with seeds and nuts and other treats are all he typically carries.
Along with a dagger that may or may not infect its victims with plague. Be sure to hug others 3-4 days after being stabbed.
Registered: May 16, 2018 18:26:49 GMT -8
|
Post by JacktheRatking on May 23, 2018 18:10:14 GMT -8
Wandering the desert sands was a quite unusual group, consisting of various rats, a boy, and what appeared to be a huge white rat, dragging along a sled of various supplies.
As the odd convoy reached the aridian gates, they stopped and waited.
Jack: "dont worry everyone. We made it this far, i doubt we'll just be turned away at the gates.
Lorrie, drop the sled and be on guard, there's a chance they wont like us too much"
The large white rat unhooks herself from the sled and scurries up in front of jack, standing on her hind legs to try to get a good view of the nearby town.
The others group up behind them, looking somewhat nervous.
|
|
Arridia
Committed
Roleplay posts: 74
Registered: Apr 26, 2018 16:53:11 GMT -8
|
Post by Arridia on May 23, 2018 19:03:41 GMT -8
Telemachon The shimmering heat of the scorching desert had hid the Sand Cat well, as he had tracked this strange being of a human. His desert garb, showed signs of weary journey, as did his copper toned face. The well built man carried a small knife at his hip, and led a horse alongside him. His feet making no sound of the soft sand, he quietly creeped up on the unaware stranger. After quietly staring at him for a few minutes the Sand Cat proclaimed, "What business have you here stranger." His strange accent blurring his words slightly.
|
|
JacktheRatking
Established
Roleplay posts: 15
Age: 12
Physical Description: A short, skinny boy, with a bit more body hair than normal.
His outward appearance is
Clothes and Equipment: A simple tunic, wooden staff, and satchel filled with seeds and nuts and other treats are all he typically carries.
Along with a dagger that may or may not infect its victims with plague. Be sure to hug others 3-4 days after being stabbed.
Registered: May 16, 2018 18:26:49 GMT -8
|
Post by JacktheRatking on May 23, 2018 19:29:58 GMT -8
The larger rat, lorrie, bared her teeth and snarled at the sand cat, eager to protect her more vulnerable companions from the sudden threat
Jack stood next to her and pet her gently, trying to calm her enough to avoid trying to kill this stranger.
"We mean no harm here, cat. We just wish to rest in this town for a night or so. I have money." He said, with an odd emphasis on the word cat. "is this town open for, well, visitors?"
|
|
Telemachon
Established
. . A̢̡̰̤͖̥̘̿́̑́͂̂̒͜ͅ n̶̨̮̘̥̱̾̋́́̕̚͜͜ g̷̨̙̼̥̩̠͍̘̯͊̐͑͂̂̓͐̀͗̋ ḙ̖̱̳̗̾͒̋͜͠͠ r̢̺͖̯͉̉͑̀̊̂̌̅̐͗ͅ . .
Roleplay posts: 49
Age: Unaccountable.
Physical Description: Telemachon is a being of enormous proportions, on the very edge of human possibility for musculature, height and build. The man has jet-black hair and eyes that have no discernible iris, simply one large dark pupil. Clean shaven on his face his hair is short but spiked and messy. He appears youthful and well-built in most manners with a "baby face" save for wrinkles, heavy bags under his sleepless red eyes, a strong set of cheeks, and appearance as though he was repeatedly whacked with both sharp and blunt sides of a shovel. His skin varies from youthful and smooth to rough and aged in texture, naturally quite pale but usually in a light beige-copper tint from his travels.
Clothes and Equipment: He has thick and ornate armour seemingly writhing to new cruel shapes when one is not looking upon it. Upon close examination it would appear to be part of one whole piece, partially explaining the occasional creak as its wearer moves. His only permanent weapons are two long spikes coming from the armour on either wrist, but he easily materializes weapons akin to his armour as an innate skill.
Player's online availability : All the time, but I might not be on when it says I am :[
Registered: Apr 20, 2018 2:42:56 GMT -8
|
Post by Telemachon on May 24, 2018 5:36:36 GMT -8
The huge man was walking on as he was approached and took another three steps before stopping after he heard the Sand Cat's speech. His heavy body had his feet sink to his ankles into the sand and he stood motionless save for the heavy swaying of his shoulders as he breathed. A short rasp emanated from him before he decided to speak. "Stranger." The word came with the consonants very hard in pronunciation while the vowels grating like the buzz of a bee-hive. Telemachon clicked his tongue once before speaking again. "I travel, as is the given right of all in this world. More importantly who are you to stalk upon me as a wolf preying upon a babe."
A sandy wheezing laugh escaped the brute as he turned to face the arrival. "As substitute for apology you may direct me to the ruins of this land. I have much interest in learning of them." All while speaking the laughter continued though his face showed no happiness as he gripped his head at the hairline as though trying to keep it together.
|
|
Arridia
Committed
Roleplay posts: 74
Registered: Apr 26, 2018 16:53:11 GMT -8
|
Post by Arridia on May 24, 2018 6:39:57 GMT -8
The wiry Cat quickly whisked the knife out of its scabbard and took a defensive position. "All who tread on Aridian lands are the Tribe's buissnes." He proclaims while behind him many of the Red Guard spill into the narrow space between dunes. All of them carrying weapons that vary from sword to spear. Surrounding the strange outlander they begin to advance...
|
|
People of Aridia
New
A Desert People
Roleplay posts: 3
Registered: May 24, 2018 6:52:19 GMT -8
|
Post by People of Aridia on May 24, 2018 7:06:26 GMT -8
Unbeknownst to JacktheRatking, but perhaps not some of his rat companions, he was being watched at the gates of the city. A boy - dirty, dressed in rags with sun beaten skin - called to him and beckoned him over. "Psst!" he called, trying to attract Jack's attention, and not that of any onlooking guards. "Outlander!" He motioned him and his party of rats over to the shadow of the cliff, well off to one side of the gates. Baring that, he would try to get the attention of the rats, hoping to enlist their aid in getting their human leader's attention.
|
|
Telemachon
Established
. . A̢̡̰̤͖̥̘̿́̑́͂̂̒͜ͅ n̶̨̮̘̥̱̾̋́́̕̚͜͜ g̷̨̙̼̥̩̠͍̘̯͊̐͑͂̂̓͐̀͗̋ ḙ̖̱̳̗̾͒̋͜͠͠ r̢̺͖̯͉̉͑̀̊̂̌̅̐͗ͅ . .
Roleplay posts: 49
Age: Unaccountable.
Physical Description: Telemachon is a being of enormous proportions, on the very edge of human possibility for musculature, height and build. The man has jet-black hair and eyes that have no discernible iris, simply one large dark pupil. Clean shaven on his face his hair is short but spiked and messy. He appears youthful and well-built in most manners with a "baby face" save for wrinkles, heavy bags under his sleepless red eyes, a strong set of cheeks, and appearance as though he was repeatedly whacked with both sharp and blunt sides of a shovel. His skin varies from youthful and smooth to rough and aged in texture, naturally quite pale but usually in a light beige-copper tint from his travels.
Clothes and Equipment: He has thick and ornate armour seemingly writhing to new cruel shapes when one is not looking upon it. Upon close examination it would appear to be part of one whole piece, partially explaining the occasional creak as its wearer moves. His only permanent weapons are two long spikes coming from the armour on either wrist, but he easily materializes weapons akin to his armour as an innate skill.
Player's online availability : All the time, but I might not be on when it says I am :[
Registered: Apr 20, 2018 2:42:56 GMT -8
|
Post by Telemachon on May 24, 2018 10:14:14 GMT -8
Telemachon never stopped laughing, even if his expression became more pained as he clutched his head harder and harder to the eventual point he bled. "Your business!" He exclaimed with a mixture of joy and pain.
Stabilizing and returning to the world of the sane for a short period, he looked up at the suddenly appeared group. "Oh the pain I could inflict. Oh you could kill me but I would kill many of you...." The man paused as at his last words he winced as though hit with something. "But that would make the world worse would it not... I am here to travel, explore, learn. If you enjoy ignorance and are against these goals you may voice your concern and reason for it, I shall do my best to assuage these feelings... please."
|
|
Arridia
Committed
Roleplay posts: 74
Registered: Apr 26, 2018 16:53:11 GMT -8
|
Post by Arridia on May 24, 2018 15:36:25 GMT -8
The disciplined soldiers, parted to allow the Sand Cat that had originally greeted the strange humanoid to step forward.
"You will come with us to meet our leader." He states, saying it as command. As he and his fellow warriors walk away, he casts over his shoulder, "these men are ready to die."
Traveling for a many hours through the exhausting desert, without stopping, the odd group finally arrive at what seems to be their destination. A large cliff rises up into the sky cutting almost all light out, a rare spot of shade in the otherwise steaming desert. On the side of the cliff is an indent, which on closer inspection one would find to be a cave that lead deep into the cliff face.
|
|
Tam Mhel Farshaw
Committed
Roleplay posts: 59
Age: late 20's early 30's
Physical Description:
Standing over six feet tall, with a body sculpted from hardship and a culture that requires one to scar their own bodies; Tam has a terrifying presents with ice blue eyes that seem to scrutinize the very being of whom ever he watches.
unkempt bronze hair frame his shaven face neatly.
Tattoo; scars : Tam, like many of the As'deen have various rune's and markings carved into their flesh, These are Tah'nish,and tell the story of the owners life.
Tho most of these remain on one's back, Tam has several on both forearms, and two markings under the outside corner of each eye.
Tattoo wise he has some of the Tah'nish colored in.
Clothes and Equipment:
Clothing wise, Cream colored flowing breeches are tucked into well made leather boots. A light brown sleeveless tunic is held with a dark brown scarf around his waste.
♦ Weapons / gear:
♦ Ghali :A long blade spear, with a metal shaft that flares out around the bottom before returning to a rounded point.
♦ Khill : A horn and bone short bow with a 60 lb draw weight.
♦ Zef'Ghali ; Small Ghali used for throwing, or sometimes used as knives.
♦ Bak : A small wooden shield that carries the Zef'ghali.
Registered: May 20, 2017 15:46:05 GMT -8
|
Post by Tam Mhel Farshaw on May 24, 2018 16:34:06 GMT -8
The bronzed man stepped over the dune and simply stood there seeing the five warriors before him. With his spear slung across his shoulders and his arms outwards the man's icy blue orbs slid from one face to the next. Fear was not in his gaze...No... ----Disappointment did crossed the decorated face of this dunelander. His red hair glistening in the sunlight as he gazed down at this scouting party. He had seen glimpses of them in the days before but they had not slit his throat on the first night, nor the second. Had they wished to kill him he'd have been dead already.
The scar-tattoo covered out lander bowed his head , motioning his hands outwards as he spoke. " Well met , may you find water and shade." His voice buzzed like a bow drawn across a cello, common but with a distinct Goraian (french) twist t his pleasant voice.
|
|
Arridia
Committed
Roleplay posts: 74
Registered: Apr 26, 2018 16:53:11 GMT -8
|
Post by Arridia on May 24, 2018 19:30:49 GMT -8
The desert sun sets neatly on the depicted horizon, setting the entire landscape in an orange glow. Somewhere out in the distance a wild catcalls can be heard, neither human nor animal. The five Owls return the unique gesture, clearly appreciating a man knowledgeable in their ways. Lowering the taught strings of their bows they, motion for Tam to come closer.
|
|
Telemachon
Established
. . A̢̡̰̤͖̥̘̿́̑́͂̂̒͜ͅ n̶̨̮̘̥̱̾̋́́̕̚͜͜ g̷̨̙̼̥̩̠͍̘̯͊̐͑͂̂̓͐̀͗̋ ḙ̖̱̳̗̾͒̋͜͠͠ r̢̺͖̯͉̉͑̀̊̂̌̅̐͗ͅ . .
Roleplay posts: 49
Age: Unaccountable.
Physical Description: Telemachon is a being of enormous proportions, on the very edge of human possibility for musculature, height and build. The man has jet-black hair and eyes that have no discernible iris, simply one large dark pupil. Clean shaven on his face his hair is short but spiked and messy. He appears youthful and well-built in most manners with a "baby face" save for wrinkles, heavy bags under his sleepless red eyes, a strong set of cheeks, and appearance as though he was repeatedly whacked with both sharp and blunt sides of a shovel. His skin varies from youthful and smooth to rough and aged in texture, naturally quite pale but usually in a light beige-copper tint from his travels.
Clothes and Equipment: He has thick and ornate armour seemingly writhing to new cruel shapes when one is not looking upon it. Upon close examination it would appear to be part of one whole piece, partially explaining the occasional creak as its wearer moves. His only permanent weapons are two long spikes coming from the armour on either wrist, but he easily materializes weapons akin to his armour as an innate skill.
Player's online availability : All the time, but I might not be on when it says I am :[
Registered: Apr 20, 2018 2:42:56 GMT -8
|
Post by Telemachon on May 25, 2018 7:19:58 GMT -8
Telemachon closed his eyes and pressed the kids together with effort, bearing his teeth as his mind hurt once more. Exhaling he looked to the tribals in contemplation. After a few long moments he spoke. "These men may not fear death, but they must value life." He stated quite plainly. "None shall bleed on these Sands today. Let us go, I shall speak to your leader if you so desire. But whatever we speak of I shan't abandon my search, and treachery shall only hurt your cause." With that, he gave a short nod, and let them lead the way.
|
|
JacktheRatking
Established
Roleplay posts: 15
Age: 12
Physical Description: A short, skinny boy, with a bit more body hair than normal.
His outward appearance is
Clothes and Equipment: A simple tunic, wooden staff, and satchel filled with seeds and nuts and other treats are all he typically carries.
Along with a dagger that may or may not infect its victims with plague. Be sure to hug others 3-4 days after being stabbed.
Registered: May 16, 2018 18:26:49 GMT -8
|
Post by JacktheRatking on May 25, 2018 15:17:52 GMT -8
Jack looked towards the young boy and once again tried getting lorrie to back off, which she thankfully did. The odd party made their way over to him, easy to do with the guards distracted.
Jack: "Well you seem to know your way around here, probably more than that cat over there. Im jack. Whats your name?" He asks quietly.
Meanwhile, some of the rats look the boy over, sniffing and inspecting, while still keeping their distance. Lorrie simply lies down, looking quite frustrated.
|
|
Atma Yaela
New
Roleplay posts: 7
Age: Appears to be mid-30's in age.
Physical Description: Numerous tattoos and a strange manner of dress hide what could be (or could have once been) a very attractive woman. Atma is 5'9, has a slight build,and piercing green eyes.
Registered: May 4, 2018 17:29:08 GMT -8
|
Post by Atma Yaela on May 25, 2018 16:23:53 GMT -8
Telemachon As the group approached the cave in the rockface, Atma stepped out of the cooling shadow of the cave and into the glaring sunlight, staff in hand. With her other hand, she pulled the hood up on her white robe, as was her habit when entering the pounding heat of the unforgiving sun. She stopped just outside of the clean line of shadow from which she’d stepped, and looked upon the group in silence, but just for a moment. “These men may not fear death, but they must value life.” she said in common, obviously for the benefit of the rather large man that followed the group of Red Guard and lone Sand Cat. “And then you spoke of blood on the sand. Did you not?” the witch asked, seeming to ponder the words before anyone had told her they’d been exchanged. She gave an approving nod to the Red Guard and an almost motherly smile to the Sand Cat as she paused in her speech. She continued, of course still in common. “It is said that when our Mother scarred the land to make this desert, the sand was white as pearl; whiter than the brightest ivory. But as the outlanders came, as their armies came, they bled on it. The blood her children shed to possess what was never theirs to possess saddened our Mother, and she allowed the blood to stain the sand.” Atma looked down at her feet and crouched to pick up a handful of the hot sand. She let it pour through her fingers as she stood back up. “Look around. Brown. Yellow. Black. Red. There aren’t white sands inside of a month’s travel from here. This sand has been bled over for centuries, and your say-so nor my own will stop it today. As for valuing life? These are the Red Guard, our Sheikh’s most favorite warriors. And my Sand Cat, I count them amongst the most faithful. We value life, but have a purpose far, far greater than simple life – simple existence. If you seek to learn, learn this. Learn of purpose. Learn of faith. Learn of something bigger than yourself.” For the first time, Atma looked directly at the outlander, awaiting his response.
|
|
People of Aridia
New
A Desert People
Roleplay posts: 3
Registered: May 24, 2018 6:52:19 GMT -8
|
Post by People of Aridia on May 25, 2018 17:05:59 GMT -8
JacktheRatking As the rats sniffed at the boy, he beckoned them a bit further out of sight of the gates, and into a small cave in the cliffside. Inside was much cooler, and the hard stone floor would make it much easier for the rats (and Jack for that matter) to move around as compared to moving around in the hot sand. “I am called Abiah.” Said the boy in his thick Aridian accent. The boy looked at the rats that took an interest in him, not terribly bothered by the rat’s presence. “They do not like rats in the city, and they hate outlanders.” He said, reaching down to offer to touch one of the rats on the head. “You will have much trouble getting into the city, but you and your rats are welcome here!” A look around the cave would reveal a rather small area, but there was plenty enough room for Jack to put down a bedroll and his rats to sleep comfortably. It appeared as if the boy had been living there, but only for a short time as there were only a few empty sacks strewn around, and a single clay pot with a lid.
|
|
JacktheRatking
Established
Roleplay posts: 15
Age: 12
Physical Description: A short, skinny boy, with a bit more body hair than normal.
His outward appearance is
Clothes and Equipment: A simple tunic, wooden staff, and satchel filled with seeds and nuts and other treats are all he typically carries.
Along with a dagger that may or may not infect its victims with plague. Be sure to hug others 3-4 days after being stabbed.
Registered: May 16, 2018 18:26:49 GMT -8
|
Post by JacktheRatking on May 25, 2018 17:56:28 GMT -8
Jack and the others walk in the cave, clearly relieved to be out of the head.
Jack: "Thanks Abiah! It's a shame about the city. The plan was to gain the favor of the leader so i could use this as a rest stop to better cross this desert. Ive lost many good friends along this route"
The rat Abiah touches stands up to nuzzle the friendly hand, chittering softly
Jack: "They already seem to love you. That one there is Jermaine"
|
|
Telemachon
Established
. . A̢̡̰̤͖̥̘̿́̑́͂̂̒͜ͅ n̶̨̮̘̥̱̾̋́́̕̚͜͜ g̷̨̙̼̥̩̠͍̘̯͊̐͑͂̂̓͐̀͗̋ ḙ̖̱̳̗̾͒̋͜͠͠ r̢̺͖̯͉̉͑̀̊̂̌̅̐͗ͅ . .
Roleplay posts: 49
Age: Unaccountable.
Physical Description: Telemachon is a being of enormous proportions, on the very edge of human possibility for musculature, height and build. The man has jet-black hair and eyes that have no discernible iris, simply one large dark pupil. Clean shaven on his face his hair is short but spiked and messy. He appears youthful and well-built in most manners with a "baby face" save for wrinkles, heavy bags under his sleepless red eyes, a strong set of cheeks, and appearance as though he was repeatedly whacked with both sharp and blunt sides of a shovel. His skin varies from youthful and smooth to rough and aged in texture, naturally quite pale but usually in a light beige-copper tint from his travels.
Clothes and Equipment: He has thick and ornate armour seemingly writhing to new cruel shapes when one is not looking upon it. Upon close examination it would appear to be part of one whole piece, partially explaining the occasional creak as its wearer moves. His only permanent weapons are two long spikes coming from the armour on either wrist, but he easily materializes weapons akin to his armour as an innate skill.
Player's online availability : All the time, but I might not be on when it says I am :[
Registered: Apr 20, 2018 2:42:56 GMT -8
|
Post by Telemachon on May 26, 2018 12:36:29 GMT -8
Telemachon stood quietly, waiting as he was spoken to. Then faintly he started to giggle, growing in volume. At last he had a short burst of laughter before resigning himself to speak. "Am I correct in thinking that you present these men as courageous for their desired warriors death? To slaughter outsiders for imagined slights is not courage, it is cowardice."
He briefly laughed once more, raising both hands in a placating gesture knowing the last words would - most likely - not be appreciated. "Foresight, or some other arcane power, you have something of the sort yes? Then you will know what I have to say. But I shall let it be known to your kinsmen as well. I know of faith, of things greater than myself. Perhaps you know of what I have seen, of Empire's rise and fall, of things far larger and many would say greater than these Sands. But, if you have knowledge to impart I am prepared."
|
|
People of Aridia
New
A Desert People
Roleplay posts: 3
Registered: May 24, 2018 6:52:19 GMT -8
|
Post by People of Aridia on May 28, 2018 15:54:56 GMT -8
"Jermaine." Abiah repeated as he knelt to pet the rat with his index finger. The boy looked up at Jack.
"I am sorry to hear of your hardship outlan - err Jack. The desert at its most kind is unforgiving." Abiah sat down on the cool floor of the cave. “I would offer you and your rats something to eat, but..” He shrugged and looked around.
“Oh but you must be thirsty!” Abiah said as he reached for the pot in the cave. He took the lid off of the clay pot to reveal that it was full of clean water. He slid the pot across the smooth stone floor towards Jack and his rats.
“I can fetch more water from inside the gates, and I suppose buy any supplies you need? If you have some silver - the farmers cultivate the most wonderful juguero fruits and sell them at the market! You wont be disappointed!”
|
|
Atma Yaela
New
Roleplay posts: 7
Age: Appears to be mid-30's in age.
Physical Description: Numerous tattoos and a strange manner of dress hide what could be (or could have once been) a very attractive woman. Atma is 5'9, has a slight build,and piercing green eyes.
Registered: May 4, 2018 17:29:08 GMT -8
|
Post by Atma Yaela on May 28, 2018 17:03:25 GMT -8
"Such a large head to house so little intellect." Atma said at Telemachon's comment about seeking a warrior's death, and courageous killing of outsiders.
She turned to the Red Guard and the Sand Cat and spoke to them in Aridian. "Thank you, I believe your work here is done for the present. Please retire inside until nightfall. I'm sure you are eager to return to our Sheikh's business."
Assuming the warriors of her tribe would accept the invitation to use the cave until nightfall, Atma would take a few steps towards the cave herself. As she moved into the cooling shadow of the cliff, she turned back to Telemachon.
She spoke in common to him. "Each and every outlander has within them a great hole that - unbeknownst to them - cannot be filled. Outlanders seek to fill this hole by acting upon their greed, and so you steal. Outlanders seek to fill this hole by acting upon their lust, and thus you are given to rape. Outlanders seek to fill this hole by slaking their murderous urges, and thus you kill. This is why you have watched your empires fall. This is why you also mistake them for being greater than these sands, and why you think your witness to them makes you knowing of things greater than yourself."
Atma looked upon Telemachon, mountain of humanoid that he was, as if he were small. "If you knew faith at any point, I can find no evidence of it now.. Outlander."
|
|
Arridia
Committed
Roleplay posts: 74
Registered: Apr 26, 2018 16:53:11 GMT -8
|
Post by Arridia on May 28, 2018 19:28:56 GMT -8
The sun had just dipped below the horizon parting the curtain of rose red, to reveal a sky full of twinkling stars. The Sand Cat gestured to the Red Guard and they silently filed into the dark cave, knowing that Atma would take care of this peculiar stranger.
Once inside they erected a small fire, and set up tan tents in a circle, where they would soon converse about the events of the day.
|
|