Allahab Alddayim
Established
Roleplay posts: 40 
Age: Good Question
Physical Description: Allahab's most common appearance is that of a tall lean man with darkly coloured skin and darker eyes. His hair is long and black, his face covered in dark scruff. His jawline is angular his nose aquiline and his cheekbones high. There is a distinct sense of power about him and of imminent danger, partially because of the distinct smell of smoke that follows him wherever he goes. Of course, as an Ifrit he is capable of changing his appearance and his true form is that of a vaguely humanoid pillar of smoke and flame.
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Clothes and Equipment: He tends to wear desert garb of fine make, richly dyed. He tends to prefer vests and loose pants and he carries a scimitar and a handheld crossbow.
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Registered: Aug 22, 2017 18:19:35 GMT -8
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Post by Allahab Alddayim on Sept 28, 2018 14:25:35 GMT -8
The simple sequence of deflection and riposte worked as planned. Allahab's assailant jerked back when the scimitar was thrust into his face and now the mugger was on the balls of his feet, looking for an opening. The ifrit bore a slight smile more amused by the antics of the human than anything else. Had the mugger even picked up on the fact that he was being toyed with?
An expected noise comes from behind or rather, Allahab had expected a noise to come from behind but it did not come with the expected action. The ifrit had assumed that the boy would try to stab him in the back while he was distracted by the adult. Instead, from the sounds of it, some good Samaritan had come to his rescue.
Seeing the mugger's eyes flick away from him, Allahab acts. Quick as a coiling snake he moves into the man's guard seeking to crack the flat of his blade into the man's temple. A single powerful blow to knock the man unconscious before he turned to deal with the new people who had decided to enter the little alleyway.
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Rook
Established
Roleplay posts: 25
Age: 56
Physical Description: Fair and strong-featured Rook closely fits one's definition of typical beauty. His hair is long and white, broken only by two small antlers sprouting from the top of his head due to his Satyr nature.
He stands at 5'05" (Minus the horns) and his eyes are golden, piercing things. His legs and feet are slender and terminate in delicate hooves.
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Clothes and Equipment: Rook wears loose clothing of earthy colors and often wears a mantle of white fur. He also adorns himself in several trinkets he's found in his travels.
He has a harp he carries with him, and amuses himself with its music.
While armed with a wicked short sword and knife, he often opts to use his tongue and spells.
Has a bow with arrows.
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Registered: Mar 14, 2018 21:17:49 GMT -8
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Post by Rook on Sept 30, 2018 8:28:35 GMT -8
Following Alva was almost more instinct than anything. He had recreated his light source, and yet she hadn't bothered to wait for him to catch up. Galloping after her, his sharp eyes struggled to pierce the dark veil he had created around himself, deciding he'd need to use his magic for a more long-term solution to the darkness in the future. He stopped, suddenly. Taking a deep breath to hold it as he closed his eyes. He couldn't just run blindly. He had to find out another way. For a moment the silence was suffocating...before a sudden ruckus sounded in the darkness. Trusting his bestial senses he quickly made his way towards the source. Upon spying Alva once again, he realized he had come in the nick of time. She struggled briefly with the lad that had attempted to attack her, easily disposing of him. One of the rougher elements of the city, he imagined. (Although he could hardly tell the difference just looking at him.) That, however, wasn't what was truly worrisome. Instead he spied the man she seemingly had yet to notice, creeping up behind her with a knife at the ready. Well that was not ideal. He was on a higher level, as Alva had been when she arrived on the scene and, with a leap, he landed without much difficulty. His powerful, bowed legs absorbing most of the shock. From his landing place he peeled off, quickly closing the distance to the sneaking man and drawing his own short sword in the process. "I can see you make a lot of friends, Alva!" he announced loudly, eliminating any element of surprise he may have had as he lunged towards Vidkun Wewelsberg with the keen point of his blade, trying to catch the man as he turned. Beneath his breath he whispered, not an incantation, but an invitation. A beckoning lure to the natural world to join him for something of a game. |
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Vidkun Wewelsberg
Established
In Treue Ritterschaft
Roleplay posts: 48
Physical Description: No memorable features in particular. Most who see him recall him as 'suave,' but beyond that descriptions have ranged from dark-blond hair to jet black, from brown to blue to amber eyes, from a clean shaven face to one with thick-set stubble. The only things they can recall about him it the man in question being quite tall and athletic, with appearance that is undoubtedly 'dashing.'
Clothes and Equipment: Whatever's needed.
Registered: Apr 26, 2017 17:29:36 GMT -8
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Post by Vidkun Wewelsberg on Sept 30, 2018 14:30:41 GMT -8
Vidkun watched the ongoing fight with some interest. The victim was certainly skilled it seemed, and he was giving his assailants their due. He raised an eyebrow at the mercy provided, but then nodded approvingly. Yet, between a great intuition and trained senses past the peak of man he turned his head only to have his eyes wide open in recognition of something pointy coming right for him. Being noticeably taller than the diminutive Rook Vidkun could not duck and so on the axis of his right foot he spun to both dodge and now face his enemy, keeping his vambraces raised defensively.
He laughed, and aimed a generous amount of spit right in the centre of Rook's face as he took a modifid boxer's stance, feet wide and bent at the knee with both of his weapons upraised. "You think to strike me from behind and bring me down with vile sorcery? I smell your blasphemies on the wind, creature, this will be a wondrous beginning to the quest!" With that he gave a playful twirl of his knife and did a circle with it's point in the air. It would appear he was indeed prepared for sorceries set upon him as attempts to invoke the supernatural would be met with unexpected pain in the mind, coupled with the powers coming as a dismissible fraction of what was expected at much greater expense, and he gave a sardonic wink in accompaniment.
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Alva
Established
Roleplay posts: 16 
Age: 26
Physical Description: Alva is tall for a Thían, standing at 5ft6 with a slender, yet robust build. She tends to cover most of her skin, hiding the scars and marks from her more foolish decisions. Including a few tattoos. Her hair is red, and falls past her shoulder blades, and her eyes are a light green. It is rumoured that due to these unusual traits, she is not fully Thían by bloodline. She is very traditionally attractive, though some of her facial features would be described as 'too strong.' Alva wears neutral, form-fitting clothes with leather accents, as most of the city-dwellers do. But she is usually seen draped in a cloak, wearing boots that climb far up her legs and sporting a choice selection of throwing knives that she's not afraid to use.
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The bastard daughter of Thíos' previous leader, Alva is well-known within the city and is often regarded with hidden contempt. But most are too afraid of her to voice that. She is close with her half-brother, the Unlord of Thíos, and has far more influence than one would assume. Especially of late, as things begin to fall apart, she seems to be keeping them together with her bare hands. Despite her strange demeanour, questionable habits and the fact that she is a loose cannon. Her undeniable ability to 'get things done' is what keeps her around.
One of the reasons Alva is so well-known is due to her participation in the Dallfit circuit, a Thían tradition of blindfolded knife-fighting.
Allegiances: Undefined
Registered: Sept 8, 2018 1:27:45 GMT -8
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Post by Alva on Oct 1, 2018 13:13:35 GMT -8
Alva had an overwhelming feeling of dread brewing in her stomach. If this was any tale of what was to come, then she certainly had her work cut out for her.
After watching one body hit the floor with a thump, she swung around to witness the other two joining them. Rook was quickly becoming some kind of slightly useful, yet mostly irritating sidekick. To suggest she had any ‘friends’ must have been a display of sarcasm.
She had been suspicious of Vidkun until he mentioned a quest. For, of course, why else would such a peculiar man be here. Right in this moment - unfortunately for him. Perhaps the Hookies had a general curse of making everything and everyone deteriorate so fast.
“All of you” she said sharply, “lower your weapons and gain some decorum. There is no planned melee stage to this process, and if there is, I’m sure we’d all prefer it to be in far more impressive circumstances.”
“Now, if everyone would like to gather themselves and not try to maim any of my citizens, perhaps we could start again?” Alva suggested, speaking with the tone of an irked teacher. She folded her arms and ignored the sound of the boy scurrying off.
Perhaps Alva should have apologised to Allahab for the behaviour of those citizens she spoke of. But, if she did so for every such incident that was likely to happen. She’d lose her voice. So, instead, she simply raised her eyebrows at him expectantly.
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Allahab Alddayim
Established
Roleplay posts: 40
Age: Good Question
Physical Description: Allahab's most common appearance is that of a tall lean man with darkly coloured skin and darker eyes. His hair is long and black, his face covered in dark scruff. His jawline is angular his nose aquiline and his cheekbones high. There is a distinct sense of power about him and of imminent danger, partially because of the distinct smell of smoke that follows him wherever he goes. Of course, as an Ifrit he is capable of changing his appearance and his true form is that of a vaguely humanoid pillar of smoke and flame.
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Clothes and Equipment: He tends to wear desert garb of fine make, richly dyed. He tends to prefer vests and loose pants and he carries a scimitar and a handheld crossbow.
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Registered: Aug 22, 2017 18:19:35 GMT -8
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Post by Allahab Alddayim on Oct 1, 2018 15:03:42 GMT -8
The mugger drops like a sack of potatoes and Allahab pulls back. He was not looking to bloody his blade tonight only to put an end to an amusing farce. Turning, he finds the alleyway to be far more populated than it was when he'd entered. Well, wasn't that interesting. Had his little tussle caught so much attention or was there something else at work? From the way, the woman spoke it was likely the latter but perhaps with just a touch of the former involved as well.
Sheathing his sword he keeps an eye on the two men who'd yet to comply. "I haven't maimed anyone yet, merely defended myself." He grins at Alva clearly enjoying himself. But he was quite curious as to who she was and why she referred to the muggers as her citizens. A member of the guard or something more? Clearly involved in the quest that had brought him here that was for certain. Folding his arms he waits to see if more blood will be spilled or more knowledge shared.
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Vidkun Wewelsberg
Established
In Treue Ritterschaft
Roleplay posts: 48
Physical Description: No memorable features in particular. Most who see him recall him as 'suave,' but beyond that descriptions have ranged from dark-blond hair to jet black, from brown to blue to amber eyes, from a clean shaven face to one with thick-set stubble. The only things they can recall about him it the man in question being quite tall and athletic, with appearance that is undoubtedly 'dashing.'
Clothes and Equipment: Whatever's needed.
Registered: Apr 26, 2017 17:29:36 GMT -8
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Post by Vidkun Wewelsberg on Oct 2, 2018 11:44:36 GMT -8
Vidkun looked to his assailant, to the woman he had followed and to the man he had been watching fight. A faint smile crossed his lips - a genuine one rather than the earlier variant - as it appeared there was a misunderstanding. Oh, how often such things happened to him. He straightened out, his weapons disappearing about his person as though into thin air. He gave a deep bow of respect to Alva and Allahab, before giving a deeper one of sincere apology to Rook with the addition of proffering his neckerchief should Rook need it to wipe off any errant saliva.
Then the hunter turned to the party at large, giving a nod. "I'm quite sorry for how this turned out. I do hope it may be forgotten if we are to work together." He listened to what Allahab said and gave a brief nod to indicate he agreed. "They are fortunate to have lived, in my sincerest opinion."
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Rook
Established
Roleplay posts: 25
Age: 56
Physical Description: Fair and strong-featured Rook closely fits one's definition of typical beauty. His hair is long and white, broken only by two small antlers sprouting from the top of his head due to his Satyr nature.
He stands at 5'05" (Minus the horns) and his eyes are golden, piercing things. His legs and feet are slender and terminate in delicate hooves.
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Clothes and Equipment: Rook wears loose clothing of earthy colors and often wears a mantle of white fur. He also adorns himself in several trinkets he's found in his travels.
He has a harp he carries with him, and amuses himself with its music.
While armed with a wicked short sword and knife, he often opts to use his tongue and spells.
Has a bow with arrows.
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Registered: Mar 14, 2018 21:17:49 GMT -8
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Post by Rook on Oct 2, 2018 17:13:13 GMT -8
The man was quick, for a human. His quick pirouette saved him from the initial skewering, but the fae was hardly concerned. Tracking him with the tip of his blade raised, he managed to catch the wad of spit in his face, giving a grunt of annoyance. When they faced off in earnest, Rook hesitated momentarily as the man mentioned a quest. He couldn't imagine the people of this underground city were handing out many assignments for someone like this. Whether the stranger's interference with magic was affecting him at all, or whether it was simply because he had yet to complete his casting was something that (hopefully) need not be answered soon. At Alva's command to stand down, Rook grinned at Vidkun, letting him sheath his weapon first and taking the proffered square of fabric, mopping off his face.
"No harm done," he offered, spreading his hands in a gesture of peace before dismissing the man entirely to stand near Alva once again. "These two look even stranger than I!" he declared. Certainly not the truth from the average person's perspective. "Is this our group?"
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Alva
Established
Roleplay posts: 16
Age: 26
Physical Description: Alva is tall for a Thían, standing at 5ft6 with a slender, yet robust build. She tends to cover most of her skin, hiding the scars and marks from her more foolish decisions. Including a few tattoos. Her hair is red, and falls past her shoulder blades, and her eyes are a light green. It is rumoured that due to these unusual traits, she is not fully Thían by bloodline. She is very traditionally attractive, though some of her facial features would be described as 'too strong.' Alva wears neutral, form-fitting clothes with leather accents, as most of the city-dwellers do. But she is usually seen draped in a cloak, wearing boots that climb far up her legs and sporting a choice selection of throwing knives that she's not afraid to use.
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The bastard daughter of Thíos' previous leader, Alva is well-known within the city and is often regarded with hidden contempt. But most are too afraid of her to voice that. She is close with her half-brother, the Unlord of Thíos, and has far more influence than one would assume. Especially of late, as things begin to fall apart, she seems to be keeping them together with her bare hands. Despite her strange demeanour, questionable habits and the fact that she is a loose cannon. Her undeniable ability to 'get things done' is what keeps her around.
One of the reasons Alva is so well-known is due to her participation in the Dallfit circuit, a Thían tradition of blindfolded knife-fighting.
Allegiances: Undefined
Registered: Sept 8, 2018 1:27:45 GMT -8
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Post by Alva on Oct 4, 2018 10:39:25 GMT -8
Alva’s nose was wrinkled in disgust due to the saliva situation. She shifted away from Rook as he chose his place beside her, giving him some cagey side-eye at his comment.
She sure hoped this wasn’t their group.
“No” she said shortly.
“All visitors answering the call are to attend an assembly tomorrow. Thios Tower will welcome you at midday. The bells will remind you. This is an invitation for you to find out more, to ask questions, and to meet the possible party members and the Unlord of Thios himself.
My name is Alva. I will be your guide, of a sort. And as your guide, I will advise you to stay off these cobbles. The Hookies aren’t known for being the most inviting to foreigners. And our friend on the floor just there is simply a mouse to the other creatures that roam.”
As though procured out of nowhere, Alva lifts an arm and tosses two coins in the direction of Vidkun and Allahab. Two silver slices that flew between them, barely lit by distant torches, but capturing any spec of light on their shining surfaces.
“A token. With this, your stay will be made as comfortable as possible. Use it wisely.”
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Allahab Alddayim
Established
Roleplay posts: 40
Age: Good Question
Physical Description: Allahab's most common appearance is that of a tall lean man with darkly coloured skin and darker eyes. His hair is long and black, his face covered in dark scruff. His jawline is angular his nose aquiline and his cheekbones high. There is a distinct sense of power about him and of imminent danger, partially because of the distinct smell of smoke that follows him wherever he goes. Of course, as an Ifrit he is capable of changing his appearance and his true form is that of a vaguely humanoid pillar of smoke and flame.
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Clothes and Equipment: He tends to wear desert garb of fine make, richly dyed. He tends to prefer vests and loose pants and he carries a scimitar and a handheld crossbow.
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Registered: Aug 22, 2017 18:19:35 GMT -8
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Post by Allahab Alddayim on Oct 5, 2018 14:03:51 GMT -8
The fight between man and fae ends as abruptly as it began, though in that short period of time it was mildly representative of the two races. The vulgar and crude human using spit as a weapon, the graceful and elegant fae moving with unnatural grace. Perhaps if it had gone on a bit longer it might have proven an apt metaphor of some kind.
As one might expect from Allahab if they'd been paying attention thus far, he catches a coin with ease. Holding it up to the dim light to examine it before it rolls across his knuckles only to vanish a moment later.
"If we were the sort to be frightened off by such things, would we be suited to this job?"
The ifrit muses aloud as he eyes the man. Seeing that the mugger had been about as much threat to the ancient fire spirit as a mouse he was mildly curious to see how much this place may test him, however, his question had actually been rhetorical.
"But I take your warning to mean you'd rather we not cause an excess of trouble by fighting against people that may force our hands to greater force. Doubtless, you also would not like visitors to your city to ignore well-meant advice simply to prove their swagger and thus cause an even greater headache for yourself. So I will take heed and retreat to a more affluent quarter to find my nights repast and meet you on the morrow."
With that, Allahab turns and make to depart leaving unless otherwise stopped he'd not be seen again until the next days ceremonies.
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Vidkun Wewelsberg
Established
In Treue Ritterschaft
Roleplay posts: 48
Physical Description: No memorable features in particular. Most who see him recall him as 'suave,' but beyond that descriptions have ranged from dark-blond hair to jet black, from brown to blue to amber eyes, from a clean shaven face to one with thick-set stubble. The only things they can recall about him it the man in question being quite tall and athletic, with appearance that is undoubtedly 'dashing.'
Clothes and Equipment: Whatever's needed.
Registered: Apr 26, 2017 17:29:36 GMT -8
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Post by Vidkun Wewelsberg on Oct 6, 2018 12:59:50 GMT -8
Vidkun raised an eyebrow at Alva's words, little effort put into hiding skepticism in his expression. Nevertheless he gave a smile as per habit and when the coin was thrown he caught it on his shoulder, letting it roll down his arm until it naturally reached the thumb and index finger with which he caught it, raised it to examine and placed it in a pocket.
The whole affair seemed to him to not be very... professional, something he very much valued in a worker-employee relationship, hence his skepticism about the matter that yet persisted. "Pardon me Mistress Alva, but could not much of this ordeal have been avoided had we been directed to the tower directly rather than awaiting for you to appear as unexpectedly as love, happiness, treasure and adventure."
Vidkun gave a dismissive wave of his hand. "Salve, let this be forgiven. But then I question why we should not travel the gutters here. I do not have much interest in the 'posh' part of town." He paused to smile, given his wardrobe might make this difficult to believe. As our now mutual friend remarked, this advice is strange considering those coming for this quest are more than likely to be able to handle themselves; I am fairly confident I can avoid defeat by the equivalent of filth upon my boots. Besides, with the deaths of criminals the net criminality of the city will decrease."
After this was said, his expression softened from that of harsh critique to a rather amiable one. "Ah, but where are my manners! I am Vidke, your humble servant."
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Rook
Established
Roleplay posts: 25
Age: 56
Physical Description: Fair and strong-featured Rook closely fits one's definition of typical beauty. His hair is long and white, broken only by two small antlers sprouting from the top of his head due to his Satyr nature.
He stands at 5'05" (Minus the horns) and his eyes are golden, piercing things. His legs and feet are slender and terminate in delicate hooves.
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Clothes and Equipment: Rook wears loose clothing of earthy colors and often wears a mantle of white fur. He also adorns himself in several trinkets he's found in his travels.
He has a harp he carries with him, and amuses himself with its music.
While armed with a wicked short sword and knife, he often opts to use his tongue and spells.
Has a bow with arrows.
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Registered: Mar 14, 2018 21:17:49 GMT -8
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Post by Rook on Oct 6, 2018 20:31:49 GMT -8
These two were certainly interesting. They both seemed about as reliable as, say, he himself. Not a particularly encouraging idea. Nevertheless he retained his own smile as he listened to them dismiss the darker side of town. It was of no real matter to him whether they made it tomorrow with notches on their belts or ended up face-down in the gutters here.
"Well, you're both quite free to wriggle around down here as you'd like! Where shall we head now, Alva?" he asked his new "Friend", and quite ignoring the fact that she had given him a similar coin, no doubt to find his own lodgings for the night. "Shall we drink? Make merry?" his smile strengthened to a grin as he considered all the "tourists" destinations in town.
"I'll pay," he offered finally.
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Alva
Established
Roleplay posts: 16
Age: 26
Physical Description: Alva is tall for a Thían, standing at 5ft6 with a slender, yet robust build. She tends to cover most of her skin, hiding the scars and marks from her more foolish decisions. Including a few tattoos. Her hair is red, and falls past her shoulder blades, and her eyes are a light green. It is rumoured that due to these unusual traits, she is not fully Thían by bloodline. She is very traditionally attractive, though some of her facial features would be described as 'too strong.' Alva wears neutral, form-fitting clothes with leather accents, as most of the city-dwellers do. But she is usually seen draped in a cloak, wearing boots that climb far up her legs and sporting a choice selection of throwing knives that she's not afraid to use.
---
The bastard daughter of Thíos' previous leader, Alva is well-known within the city and is often regarded with hidden contempt. But most are too afraid of her to voice that. She is close with her half-brother, the Unlord of Thíos, and has far more influence than one would assume. Especially of late, as things begin to fall apart, she seems to be keeping them together with her bare hands. Despite her strange demeanour, questionable habits and the fact that she is a loose cannon. Her undeniable ability to 'get things done' is what keeps her around.
One of the reasons Alva is so well-known is due to her participation in the Dallfit circuit, a Thían tradition of blindfolded knife-fighting.
Allegiances: Undefined
Registered: Sept 8, 2018 1:27:45 GMT -8
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Post by Alva on Oct 9, 2018 13:24:49 GMT -8
Alva watched Allahab retreat with quite a sour expression that she did not do so well at hiding.
Her fellow human did little to dampen these feelings. In a sense, he was right. This was not Alva’s forte. Actually, she was fairly certain this specific job had only been given to her due to the fact that no one else was interested in skulking around after certain foreign troublemakers and fixing whatever mess they caused. Her duties usually were the ones scraped from the bottom of the barrel. For reasons she wasn’t feeling prepared to disclose.
Being called ‘mistress’ made her skin crawl a little, and she had to fight the urge to fold her arms as she continued.
“I apologise for not meeting your standards, Vidke” Alva said, only half sarcastic. “But you see, we have had potential party members showing up for a week now. And if we were to invite each one to the tower, the Unlord will have had to welcome and offer explanations out so many times that he may well have lost his voice. Besides, his time is very precious. So, perhaps you should call me a shepherd instead of a guide. As I continue to attempt to herd you all out of trouble’s way. Unsuccessfully, so it seems. I didn’t realise asking people to be patient and respectful would be such an ordeal.
And if you need enlightening, murder is in fact a crime in Thios. No matter who the victim. We also happen to have a very unique justice system that I can assure you, you will not deem pleasant even by the darkest standards.
Otherwise, do as you please.”
Alva offered a smile that was far too bright to have followed her reply.
Naturally, Rook was still positively on her side. Or at her heels.
Her mood had depleted since their exhilarating ride, and she was absolutely not going to take him up on anything he had to offer. So, she looked between them, tiredness weighing on her eyes, and pulled her hood up.
“Goodnight, I shall see you at noon.”
And she took off, out of the alley and up into the bridges.
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