The Isran Empire
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 468
Allegiances: The Isran Empire
Registered: Apr 3, 2016 10:52:37 GMT -8
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Post by The Isran Empire on Oct 29, 2018 20:04:38 GMT -8
Approaching Untyrid Hall by carriage, once one passes through the gate, they would be treated to a scenic ride through a tunnel of trees. After arriving at the Hall, attendants are on hand to take care of any baggage, gnomes, or otherwise cumbersome objects. Guests are then directed around the side of the house, to the guest book. After signing, attendants give guests a pin shaped like the Isran flag, to identify them as guests. Pin-wearing guests are allowed access to the house, where The Ball is being held.
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Queen Audrey I von Audria
Established
Supreme Sorceress
Roleplay posts: 45
Age: 30
Physical Description: A beautiful lady with sun-kissed skin, entrancing blue eyes, and a fair complexion with long, flowing crimson hair.
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Clothes and Equipment: An assortment of expensive fashion and attire suitable for a lady of her stature.
Lady Audrey also carries various gems which increase her magical talent, or perhaps help to control it.
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Registered: Sept 25, 2015 14:39:52 GMT -8
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Post by Queen Audrey I von Audria on Nov 2, 2018 13:01:21 GMT -8
A white, wooden carriage of exquisite make rolls down the path towards Untyrid Hall. It is pulled along by two magnificent white mares, and sports a black and white banner emblazoned with an eagle - residual features of the guests' precursors: the Brotherhood. The carriage driver, formally dressed in Audrian colors, announces to the occupant "we're nearly there my queen." His hair is neatly trimmed, as is his beard, loaning a sense of eloquence to his otherwise rigid and hardy exterior. "Thank you, Franz," replied the lady within. It was Audrey I von Audria - the recently self-proclaimed queen of the Kingdom of Audria, after that state's secession from the larger Vessian Empire. She had already had the carriage's curtains pulled aside so she could observe the beautiful scenery on the trip to the ball. "This is a beautiful land," she told her driver. "That it is," Franz replied. "Tame... and nurtured... unlike the wild frontiers back in Audria." The carriage began to slow and pause before the gates...
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Erik Haldar
Established
Roleplay posts: 36
Age: 59
Physical Description: Scarred from battle and with long white hair and beard Erik is marked by life, and his old body is still still very much fit and ready for battle.
Clothes and Equipment: Gold and gems aren't his way of showing off power. Instead you will see him carrying his prized masterwork sword and runed iron ring, the latter which symbolizes the ultimate power in Taingaard. He often wears a fur cape that extends down to his heels, but also adorns himself in plate armor when travelling outside the city walls.
Registered: Jul 9, 2018 12:38:29 GMT -8
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Post by Erik Haldar on Nov 2, 2018 13:53:42 GMT -8
As he always did, Erik rode in front on his impressive steed with about a dozen soldiers following in his wake. Erik argued with himself whether this would be akin to the Audrian banquet which had been most impressive... before the ruthless killing at the table. However one of Erik's intentions with going to the banquet was discuss trade relations but it seemed like other events had come in his way. Hopefully this would be a little more successful though a ball did seem like an ill suit for Erik, but trade and alliances had always been cloaked in festivities and he would endure these things if necessary.
Erik would greet guards and officials along the way and follow the procedure although he saw it as being slightly over the top in terms of complexity. "They have their flag on little pins..!" he said and chuckled slightly pointing to it as his men laughed along with Erik. "Well I shouldn't keep them waiting or else they'll probably have more forms to sign." Erik said and approached the house if he was let through.
He was wearing what in Taingaard was considered a formal attire for 'oversea's cultural events' and included a nicely made green tunic with discrete golden patterns to adorn it along with buttons made of rare obsidian stones and a brown leather belt with a bronze buckle to keep it together. Erik would also wear a large golden necklace with thumb wide flat joints in many patterns and for this special occasion his white hair would have been bade up into a ponytail with an ornamented bronze ring and in the same way his beard was organized into a slime goatee. This was a far cry from his normal rugged visage and Erik was looking straight up sleek and elegant.
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Princess Desa
Established
Roleplay posts: 16
Age: 19
Physical Description: With pale skin, Princess Desa's silky skin is as pale as the snow, but as delicate as porcelain. Her brown-gold eyes shimmer, her chocolate hair usually very poofy. She is rather petite, being 4'11.
Clothes and Equipment: Desa has a deep love for yellow and brown, and her attire matches. She usually dresses in champagnes and chocolates, with an abundance of pearls and gold. She has special runic writings upon her clothing, for health and protection.
Registered: Nov 2, 2018 15:28:06 GMT -8
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Post by Princess Desa on Nov 2, 2018 15:37:18 GMT -8
Princess Desa sat in her carriage, on loan from an old friend. The woodmanship was exquisite, the finest redwood was used, dusted in a lavish, diamond powder on the inside, giving a shimmery sparkle to the carriage. She was dressed in fine silks, forming an elaborate, puffy dress of cream and yellows, with a chocolate trim. Pearls formed a loop around the lower section, being held in place by a large bow and shimmering stars. Near her thin waist was a similar pearl belt, dusted lightly in the same diamond powder used in the carriage.
She pulled her brown gloves up, one hand thumbing the gold band near her elbows, as she made sure her golden tiara was in place. Tonight, she was not Princess Desa, the bookwarm. Tonight, she was Princess Desa the Risktaker. With a pearly, shining smile, she pulled the top of her corset down a touch, giving her a more 'mature' look to her. As the carriage pulled itself to the entryway, Desa stepped boldly out, opening the door herself. Lifting the top of her dress up as she stepped onto the ground. She smiles charmingly at the guards, signing her name, Princess Desa, within the guestbook, and taking a pin, clipping it onto her belt, near her hip. Thanking the guards, she walked within, feeling brave and courageous.
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Grandma
Widely Known
Imperial Vizier of Isra
Roleplay posts: 1,017
Age: 90
Physical Description: ---------------------------------------------------------
An elderly and frail looking woman with white wispy hair. However, despite being old, her back is not bent by age nor are her eyes clouded by it.
Clothes and Equipment: ---------------------------------------------------------
She wears a deep purple robe that has sleeves that extend far beyond her hands. Her hands are covered with fine gloves of black silk and she wears one ring on each, one having a purple stone set in it and the other a piece of onyx. Carrying an ornate cane of orellium, Grandma can use it to increase her magical channeling as well as assist in deflecting others spells with it. The cane itself is black and covered in numerous ornate, but tiny runes. The cap on the cane is a purplish colored gem. On her wrist is a silver bracelet with a ruby in it that Grandma uses for telepathic communication with others in its network.
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Registered: Sept 12, 2015 8:27:42 GMT -8
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Post by Grandma on Nov 2, 2018 21:34:20 GMT -8
Grandma stared out one of the windows on the ground floor of the Untyrid Hall, watching attentively as more and more guest arrived. A single crooked finger tapped against the glass idly as carriages rolled towards the hall. It was just about time for the Ball to start... Grandma supposed she should go get in the thick of things soon or risk missing out on the fun. Turning her attention away from the window, Grandma turned to a group of Isran mages who were expectantly awaiting her instructions. She relayed her final commands before exiting the building and beginning her stroll towards the festivities.
As it was a more formal event than most she attended, Grandma had decided to wear a slightly more extravagant version of her normal outfit. The robes were still a deep purple color and overly spacious, but now were adorned with a healthy amount of silver trim that created various abstract patterns. Both of her hands had a few extra rings on them than normal. As always, she had her cane in hand, the sunset causing the gem capping it to shimmer slightly.
Reaching the guestbook, Grandma adds her name to the growing list before accepting one of the Isran pins and attaching it to her robe. Although it was impossible to know what the evening had in store, she held high hopes for this gathering.
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Lord Waldemar Andreas
Established
Roleplay posts: 38
Age: Middle aged.
Physical Description: Particularly tall at just about seven feet he has wide shoulders and a generally powerful frame of clear patrician nature that makes those who set eyes upon him instinctively feel subservience and want to bend the knee. His hair is a faintly aged silver, his skin a weathered beige and eyes marine. He has a quite well maintained set of whiskers, and a relatively aquiline face.
Clothes and Equipment: Assorted nobleman's trappings. Master-crafted plate, Knightly robes. He carries with him a large one-and-a-half handed sword.
Registered: Feb 1, 2018 17:59:26 GMT -8
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Post by Lord Waldemar Andreas on Nov 3, 2018 13:17:34 GMT -8
"We're almost there, Lord Waldemar."
"I can see Mr. Krahe, thank you."
The two held their silence after that, neither having much to say to the other. Mr. Krahe as he was known didn't have "driver" in his job description, but for the journey across previously unvisited lands it was decided he would be the one who sat outside at the front of the carriage. Bringing on a platoon of guards would not look very polite and respectful, whereas going without any significant protection would be bloody stupid. So, Mr. Krahe was the synthesis of the two options. Waldemar even in his heavy ceremonial plate sat some distance from the man, not wanting to by accident prick himself on the nasty business concealed under his counterpart's neat clothes.
"You have to surrender your weapons, you know."
There was much commotion from various parts about his person Krahe put forth his quite impressive arsenal; hand-crossbows, knives, falchions, somehow even a mace and a kriegsmesser were hid about his person alongside more elaborate, cruel implements. It always amazed Waldemar how by telling the horses he would kill them if they failed, Mr. Krahe always seemed to get animals to ride on properly without him holding the reins.
"All of them."
A sigh came from the Chaperone, blood dripping upon the road as various small blades, needles, and other murderous items were further removed. After some bandaging the man once more looked his usual self. With that Waldemar sighed, leaning back. "Get us in, Mr. Krahe." After the present Isran guards took custody of weapons and baggage Krahe stepped forth and signed in the Audrian arrivals. Taking four pins he placed one on himself, gave one to Waldemar and then went forth to open the carriage for Queen Audrey I von Audria and Franz, helping both of them out with a cold smile. Once they were out he gave them their pins as well, and stepped back with his arms behind his back to let Waldemar speak. The noble gave a patrician and more legitimate smile, motioning with his right hand for direction. "Well your Highness, let us go forth — no sense dawdling."
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Haru
Established
Roleplay posts: 25
Age: 26
Physical Description: ---------------------------------------------------------
Body is about nine feet long while the tail adds about another nine feet to the length. The fur on top of him is a charcoal black, while on his belly he has bronze colored fur. The tail is entirely bronze colored. Eyes are a deep amber color.
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Clothes and Equipment: Wears a saddle when someone is riding him.
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Registered: Dec 7, 2016 20:43:43 GMT -8
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Post by Haru on Nov 3, 2018 14:40:00 GMT -8
Haru soared through the sky, Untyrid Hall being little more than a speck at their current altitude. If it wasn’t for the translucent bubble that surrounded Haru, the wind would be doing all kinds of inconvenient things to his fur and his master’s clothes. Although Naoki had technically told him to take her to the Untyrid Hall, Haru wasn’t about to take the most direct path when he had the chance to fly around with his master! That was how the pair of them had ended up several miles above the ground. Yes, perhaps Haru had gotten carried away, but the skies were so nice and clear today. There was barely a cloud in sight!
Turning his head back to Naoki, Haru pointedly looked towards the ground multiple times, making sure his master knew what was to come. To ensure nothing unfortunate befell Naoki, Haru even wrapped the end of his tail around her waist until he was satisfied the grip was snug enough. With what few precautions Haru’s mind could conceive of, the cat-like creature swiftly plummeted towards the ground without any further warning. Although the dive wasn’t quite ninety degrees, it was close to it, his tail being instrumental in preventing Naoki from sliding off him. The magical sphere protecting them from the wind toned down the intensity slightly, but the experience was still quite the adrenaline rush for Haru.
Suddenly the Untyrid Hall was getting much closer. What had been a mere speck was now something Naoki could now see quite clearly. Just as they were getting to the point where Naoki might perhaps be wondering if Haru had fallen asleep at some point during the descent, he pulled out of the dive. He transitioned into circling around the hall and giving Naoki a proper aerial look of the property. Deciding a couple of circles around the property to be sufficient, Haru smoothly glided down to the guestbook, landing in an almost comically careful fashion considering he had been diving at breakneck speeds towards the ground just minutes earlier.
Unwrapping his tail from around Naoki’s waist, Haru padded over to stand directly in front of the guest book, sniffing at it curiously. He wanted to lick it, but did it taste good? Haru did not know.
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Empress Naoki
Famous
Roleplay posts: 2,238
Physical Description: =========================
Empress Naoki is a curvaceous woman of average height, indeterminate age, and catlike features. Her hair is a dark auburn, often pulled back into a long braid. Her ears are both soft and fluffy, and her tail is never less than perfectly groomed. Amber eyes glisten in the shadows cast by her hair.
Clothes and Equipment: =========================
Naoki's wardrobe is to her as a frame is to a painting. Sometimes embellished with detail to be attractive in its own right, but never the focus. Usually simple but elegant, tightly fitting and highly revealing, used only to frame the beauty within.
Additionally, Naoki is, when clothed, often adorned with a small collection of accessories. She wears an earring, a brilliant cut amethyst, in her right ear. The silver signet ring of Isra is worn on her left pinky, marking her as High Lady of Isra. Directly adjacent, she wears the golden signet ring of The Isran Empire as its Empress. On the inside of her left thigh, there is a tattoo depicting a rose entwined with tentacles.
Allegiances: The Isran Empire
Player's online availability : Excessively often. Timezone: ET (-5)
Registered: Sept 12, 2015 13:02:17 GMT -8
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Post by Empress Naoki on Nov 3, 2018 14:57:58 GMT -8
Somewhat shakily, The Empress dismounts. She hadn’t entirely intended to make that much of an entrance, and yet. Here she is. The Empress had hoped to arrive earlier and micromanage the servants but ended up spending longer than she intended choosing what to wear. She ended up settling on a deep red strapless dress, embroidered with glowing phoenix string in shapes evocative of fire, accentuated with some manner of gemstone-feather-brooch-type-thing worn on the hip. (It came with the dress, and she didn’t question it.) As she signs the guestbook, Naoki sees that some guests have already arrived. Erik Haldar — who she saw at Ritterhiem but didn’t have the chance to greet, Grandma, and “Princess Desa,” whoever that is. And, looking back over her shoulder, more carriages are on the way. Naoki takes this to be a good sign; the sun has only just begun to set. After Naoki sets the quill down, it rises again of its own accord. In slow, precise movements, it signs "Tyrell," and then also "Haru," seeing as Haru doesn't have opposable thumbs to do so himself. On her way past the weapons check, The Empress asks if the guard would like to pat her down. The guard, suspecting correctly that it is a trick question, politely declines. Lady Naoki chuckles to herself, takes a pin, and proceeds in, calling for Haru to follow her.
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Deidra Nofaló
Committed
Roleplay posts: 81
Age: 22
Physical Description: She stands at a formidable 178 centimeters and is exceedingly well trained and toned. She has an athletic build that had been nurtured since she began her training as a knight at 7 years old. Her hair is a golden blonde and is usually carefully braided back or twisted in a bun when in combat or training. She has piercing grey eyes that seem to take all of the surroundings and she doesn't have the most approachable outwardly expression.
Clothes and Equipment: She typically carries a long sword and a buckler with her. Built into the pommel of her sword is her family's crest, the winged wolf. This is also mirrored in her more ornate armor which has the wolf's head built into her shoulder and the wings in her elbows and behind her knees. She prefers to wear a lighter set of armor when training and sparring though or when walking around town so she can blend in more easily without being recognized.
Allegiances: Edan
Player's online availability : Pretty much whenever I'm awake. *Shrugs*
Registered: Aug 5, 2018 12:12:12 GMT -8
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Post by Deidra Nofaló on Nov 3, 2018 15:41:17 GMT -8
Deidra dropped her head back against the polished wood as she sat back in the small carriage that she enlisted to take her the ride to Untyrid hall. Her fingers worried at the solid silver ring in the shape of a fierce wolf that sat on her middle finger- elegant wings extending from the creature’s back and extending up her right arm. It was her only armor this night as she didn't want to make too much of a scene. The goal was to be largely unnoticed after all as she searched for her estranged friend.
Of all the places for her to have tracked Ruidger down though- a ball was certainly not what she would have chosen considering the ruggedness of her friend. A dingy old tavern or a humble campsite was more what she would have thought to find him at. She only hoped that this would be the end of her journey and she would find him well. She was risking her anonymity of her pilgrimage after all, though she very much doubted anyone would recognize her as a royal despite her attire. It was odd to be in a gown after nearly a year of only wearing her armor and training clothes but she did welcome the change- The gown was a beautiful argent that glimmered in the correct lighting- made of the hide of a beast unknown to those of this land. The cut was modest but also extremely flattering to her well toned shape, hugging her athletic curves. A slit crept up the side that was hard to notice but would allow her the ability to run or fight if needed. Her blonde tresses were pinned up in an elegant bun with a few stray strands cupping her face.
She lifted her head carefully, feeling the opal in her silver circlet lightly bounce against her forehead as she looked at the gorgeous passing scenery. At the very least the atmosphere seemed beautiful, she just hoped things would move along smoothly, she'd find her friend, assure herself he was well and then leave to other greater frontiers. Gundulf, who had shifted his presence to the ring that sat on her middle digit huffed softly to relax her as well as the carriage finally came to a stop and the footman came around to open her carriage door and help her down. She kept herself composed, her head held high, but her grey eyes constantly scanning the small crowd as she went to sign her name carefully at the guest log and accept the flagged pin.
'So far, so good.' She assured herself internally as she elegantly swept into the house, holding her clutch at her side.
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Francois Nicolet Montcalm
Established
Liberty! Equality! Brotherhood!
Roleplay posts: 37
Age: 43
Physical Description: In regards to build he is as average as one may be. Marginally less than 6 feet tall, working man's muscles, well bred if not handsome features, as well as a black mustache and thin yet very dark black hair coupled with hazel eyes.
Clothes and Equipment: He will wear sensible and semi-formal clothing no matter the occasion, and a cap when outdoors. He has basic experience fighting dirty and making weapons out of every day things; pitchforks, scythes, even baguettes dried rock hard for use as a club, one of which he will always carry.
Registered: Jun 15, 2016 6:24:29 GMT -8
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Post by Francois Nicolet Montcalm on Nov 3, 2018 15:46:47 GMT -8
Perhaps unexpectedly - or perhaps not - there were some unexpected guests to the party. Bearing candles and lamps rather than torches to show all they were a peaceful protest rather than a mob, they advanced. They were somewhat less than a hundred, but growing in number. People of all species and classes assembled to show what they believed in. Slogans were shouted from "Equal Rights for all heights!" to "This is not the free city we founded!" Eventually they stopped just outside the entryway in two lines along the road to shame all arrivals for supporting a racist regime, but some more rowdy people went in the midst of the road to make navigation difficult before being reared in by Francois, the organizer of the protest.
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Healer Julane Gael
Committed
Roleplay posts: 58
Age: 27
Physical Description: Healer Julane is a tall, slender woman with soft glacial blue inquisitive eyes and long, silky smooth white hair, falling straight down to about halfway down her back, prim and well taken care of. Her eyebrows are almost always slightly furrowed, and her soft pink lips always turned up into a smile, giving her a gentle, kindly face, despite its slender and otherwise sharp features. Her figure is slim and somewhat muted, with a rather unimpressive bust and legs meant less for outdoorsy physical activity and more for long strides across a library. Her fingers are long and slender, like a pianist's, and although they tend to be utilised more for flipping pages and casting spells, she does "dabble" in the citole, as she puts it, though in reality she's a very proficient musician. Her voice is soft, clear, and crisp, wonderfully suited for calming down patients or ordering nurses around without so much as a raised tone.
Clothes and Equipment: ===========================================
Healer Julane is almost always dressed in her white, plain and yet elegant flowing silken robes, the upper half of which is split to show a long tract of flesh down the centre of her torso, the reason behind this stated to be to disarm patients upon the battlefield by showing them that she is unarmed and not an enemy, although it has the side-effect of looking somewhat unnecessarily immodest. The lower half, however, is slightly thicker, the skirt overlapping on itself once in the front, falling down to right below her ankles to cover her booted feet without making her trip over herself.
She almost always wears a storage belt with phials and small satchels hanging off of it, making a musical clinking as she walks along. A small, ornate and yet primitive round charm with two eagle feathers hanging from leather cords is always on her person, usually latched to her belt, and she has been known to risk her own life to retrieve it if lost. No one knows the purpose of the object, but all know it is sacred to her.
Unlike her mentor, Andraste, Julane doesn't carry about a hefty tome full of spells. Instead, she carries about a compact booklet full of all the incantations, evocations, and charms a healer must know in order to be proficient. In addition to this, her staff is made of solid redwood, straight and well-carved with swirling Elven runes etched into its length, the tip widening and spiralling about to caress a large opal the size of a fist, quite an unusual channelling stone to be upon a mage's staff. Its utility is singular: light, defence, and healing spells, and the stone excels at enhancing those magics, but one will find it difficult if not impossible or extremely dangerous to cast offensive, dark, or blood magic spells using the stone. Luckily, it's perfect for Julane. Although she doesn't know it, Healer Julane is also very good at passive magical suggestion, her words seeming to carry a tone of authority no matter how they're spoken, causing those undefended hearts and minds to be drawn to her ideals.
Registered: Sept 27, 2015 19:17:19 GMT -8
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Post by Healer Julane Gael on Nov 3, 2018 19:06:34 GMT -8
The sound of light Palfrey hooves upon the stone pathway echo throughout the forested path, signaling the arrival of the Grand Healer of the Enclave, Julane Gael, mounted sidesaddle upon the diminutive and unassuming dappled colt. Her means of transportation is perhaps uncouth and non-traditional, but she had politely declined the carriage for reasons that only she can determine. She slows as she nears the picket line of protesters, her lightly-glossed pink lips turning down into a slight frown. She moves her horse to the side of the road and dismounts, detaching her long redwood opal-tipped staff from its holster and curtsying to the nearest protester. Her dress consists of resplendent silvery-white skirts that drag behind her and is somewhat more modest than her normal robes, covering much more flesh as it wraps elegantly about her body. Feathered slips of spider silk drift from her shoulders, lifting with every breeze or movement before floating gently back down to rest across her otherwise bare back. A leather strap wraps about her midsection, pulling the piece together both physically and visually, contrasting well with the glimmering outerwear. A pair of simple leather heels adorn her feet, "Might I ask, gentlemen," she asks in her soft, gentle, placid tones, "what your purpose is here tonight?" If the protesters are old enough to remember, they may know Julane as one who goes among the poor and ailing of Isra and relieves their sickness for no monetary compensation, though of late she's been locked away in her tower studying who-knows-what and has mostly let her baser duties fall upon her apprentices.
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Elizabeth Finch
Main Character
Roleplay posts: 512
Age: 29
Physical Description: Elizabeth, or Liz, stands at about 5'9", weighing in at about 160lbs, most of it muscle from years of riding and fighting. She has platinum blonde hair, usually tied in a ponytail to fit inside her helmet. Her eyes are a vibrant shade of green that contrasts well with her tanned skin. She would be considered attractive if she ever removed her armor, otherwise her face is the only indication that underneath the iron discipline and plate armor is an attractive woman.
Clothes and Equipment: Liz wears a normal looking set of plate armor that is custom fitted for her specifically, and does not hide her gender. She wields a lance when mounted. Javelins are carried in her mounts saddle. Her mount is a young Griffin by the name of St. George, he is full grown in height, but does not yet have the full mass of a adult griffin. She wears plain clothes when not in armor and her shield bears the symbol of the Dawn Riders on it, and her breastplate bears the symbol of Isra on it. She wears a small necklace with a purple gemstone on it underneath her breastplate, only visible when she she is unarmored. Her sword has the insignia of the midnight sun engraved in the hilt, as it is relatively out of sight and does not violate the military dress code. Her primary weapon is her sword, an ancient Elven artifact passed down by her bloodline. It is wreathed in green lightning when unsheathed and wielded by her, and she has a sunmetal shield that complements it with magical abilities of its own.
Player's online availability : Weekends/Nights EST
Registered: Apr 6, 2016 12:16:13 GMT -8
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Post by Elizabeth Finch on Nov 3, 2018 19:12:53 GMT -8
Unlike many of the former arrivals, Elizabeth Finch, or Liz as she prefers, arrives not in a carriage but on the back of her magnificent griffon, St. George. He is immaculately groomed and well-behaved, not responding to any provocations by the unruly mob outside, unless they should act threateningly towards his rider, at which point they would be torn apart.
Presuming this does not occur, Liz discounts gracefully from her griffon's back, sliding onto the ground and shedding her travelling coat. Underneath it is a stunning dress, a fair bit more risque than she would usually wear, but far more conservative than would be considered improper. The dress was custom ordered, evoking the image of her former uniform, and bearing the coloration of the Isran Military and the symbol of the Dawn Riders across her torso. The dress is sleeveless but not strapless, and extends down to the ground, where it barely hides a pair of black heels. A gleaming silver necklace with a single emerald matched a simple silver bracelet, which occasionally sparks along its length. Each spark matches the coloration of both the emerald and Liz's eyes.
She has no weapons on her, and is handed the pin without issue. Liz pins it to her dress's strap and continues on in to the ballroom.
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Rudiger Dornmauer
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 229
Age: 30
Physical Description: Rudiger is tall at 6'3", and muscularly built from his profession. His skin is weathered from his life on the road, with the first wrinkles of age appearing at the sides of his mouth and his eyes, and thick calluses on his right hand from wielding his sword. His light brown hair has been sheered to a fade parted on the right side, and his strong chin that was once covered by thick goatee has been shaved to stubble, but his thick mustache has remained. His most prominent feature is a thick scar and his missing left eye, which he covers with a black eyepatch, which he lost in a fight with a bear.
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Clothes and Equipment: Rudiger wears a variety of cloths, depending on the situation. For battle, he wears a blue gambeson underneath steel plate armor, which encases him from head to foot. He wears a bellow faced sallet helm, which he learned to wear from the loss of his eye. He wields a hand and half sword, with a decorative eagle on the pommel. He also carries a kite shield, painted with his coat of arm, a black eagle on a red and orange checkered field.
When he's not in battle, he wears a white wool shirt, and thick woolen black pants. He always wears his tan riding boots.
He owns a dapple grey destrier, and a heavy wooden saddle with a high cantle and pommel covered in thick leather.
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Allegiances: The Grand Duchy of Voruta
Registered: Dec 6, 2017 14:20:22 GMT -8
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Post by Rudiger Dornmauer on Nov 3, 2018 20:01:06 GMT -8
As the carriage rocked down the road, Rudiger once again began to contemplate the merits of facing down a hungry bear as opposed to becoming Duke. One, you could kill a bear and skin it and nobody would question why its skin graced the floor in front of your hearth. Two, bear meat was actually reasonably good when cooked right. Thirdly, you didn't need to try and memorize the name of each and every noble and their horse and get yelled at one you couldn't find a way to express interest in the subject matter. Finally, at least a bear was honest with its intentions.
But he was here. Here in an itchy black suit, white gloves, starched white shirt, and white bow tie that threatened to choke him. The one thing he was thankful for in this entire process was the ability to bathe in something other than ponds and cold creeks. He did have to agree to a hair cut and shave because it was considered "unregal" to have messy hair and a beard. Bah! At least he managed to haggle the ambassadors to let him keep his mustache.
Speaking of ambassadors, he had managed to flee their presence for this evening, on the pains of promising to remain as civilized as possible. And that meant he couldn't bring his trusty Bob with him. Bob was the lucky bastard in all this. He had been staying in the royal stables, getting fat off the finest oats and treats in the land, and flirting with all the pretty fillies. ,
The carriage pulled to a delicate stop, and Rudiger hopped out, finding his way to the guest book and pinned the Isran pendant to his lapel as he continued past the weapons check. He had been forced to surrender his sword days ago and had never been handed it back, so passing through was a breeze. Probably the easiest thing he had done in days. He continued towards the ballroom, silently hoping against hope he would not make a bigger buffoon of himself than he looked right now.
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Vaelar Black
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 114
Age: 35
Physical Description: Vaelar is a massively tall man, standing at a height of six and a quarter feet and possessing a powerful build. He has flowing, well-kept hair of snow white, reaching down past his shoulders, and eyes of a deep violet. He has a youthful face and a strong, well-cut jawline, usually covered with a dusting of stubble. Overall, his appearance is much more youthful than his actual age, and his energy and charisma has not dissipated over the years of his being a sellsword.
Clothes and Equipment: ===================================================
Outside of battle, Vaelar wears simple and comfortable, yet elegant clothing. His indigo tunic is made of cave spider silk, breathable and flowing, and purposefully baggy so as to show off a hint of his muscular build. He usually wears a set of dark brown leather trousers to go along with it, completing the ensemble with a pair of well-built leather boots.
In battle he wears a set of heavy full plate, the metal of which has been stained black with red trim, an imposing depiction of a red dragon painted across the chest. Normally he wears no helmet, preferring as wide a range of view as possible. As for weaponry, he normally wields a well-made bastard sword handed down his bloodline named "Nightrend", paired with a steel kite shield, although the shield can be abandoned and the bastard sword wielded with two hands. On his belt he generally carries a complement of several different throwable substances, from gaseous potions to napatha to a vial of an unknown, viscous substance which traps his enemy in a thick, sticky black slime, simultaneously slowing their actions and compromising armour strength with its acidity.
Registered: Sept 13, 2015 7:53:53 GMT -8
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Post by Vaelar Black on Nov 3, 2018 20:14:16 GMT -8
A lionesque roar blasts over the cries of the protesters from above, and through the treetop canopy descends a huge, powerful manticore, its leathery wings batting powerfully to slow its descent as it nears the ground. It looks about with a pair of emerald green, slitted predatory eyes, and although it fixates upon the group of protesters for a moment, it doesn't seem to wish to bother with them. Upon its back, the mercenary captain Vaelar Black sits, wearing an old but well-kept military dress uniform of resplendent crimson velvet accentuated by gilded trim and a decorative gold gorget. The trousers of the uniform are a complementary black and white with red trim, and a blue furred cloak wraps about his arms, held in place by a pair of golden epaulettes. Finally, a blue sash wraps about his torso, starting at his left shoulder and tapering off at his right hip, its length dotted with medals of honour from various nations, the differing insignias sometimes clashing with one another, and even occasionally signifying two different sides of the same war. His leather dress boots click upon the flagstone as he dismounts his furred mount and runs his hand over its head affectionately, his eyes turned upward as he scans the canopy for the giant black crow that followed. He pays little mind to the protesters; soldiers of fortune are used to the discomforted rabble, and are often among them, but tonight he is determined to put work behind him and have fun. His equipment and weaponry, including his ancestral bastard sword "Nightrend", are strapped to the makeshift saddle upon the manticore's back, which it seems none to pleased at as its clawed paws bat at the saddle's straps. "Quiet yourself, Boscoe," murmurs Vaelar, "it'll only be on until we can get our weaponry back." The maticore gives him a vaguely betrayed look, but stops scratching at the straps, its scorpion-like tail swiping back and forth in impatience.
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Jun of the Celadine
Widely Known
Roleplay posts: 1,410
Age: 28
Physical Description: Jun is a human adult, standing 5’4”. She is wiry and fit at approximately 120 lbs. She has olive skin, dark brown hair ending just above her shoulders, and slight epicanthic folds over her dark almond eyes. Her face is squarish with a small chin. Her skin is dotted with battle scars, and her left arm is heavily bandaged due to an unknown affliction.
Clothes and Equipment: Jun possesses a vast collection of seeds, herbs, insects, and scrolls hidden in various pouches in her armor. These serve as reagents for her multitude of spells. Her armor consists of a customized, long-coat style gambeson that is stuffed with a matrix of seeds and plant fibers. Fitted on top is a set of brass-like, enchanted half armor (chest piece, pauldrons, and tassets) which gives off a warm aura. She has an open-faced, burgonet style helmet and coif of the same materials.
Her most notable "weapons" are Blackbean and Resonance. Blackbean is an elephant-sized demon crow which has served with Jun for many years as a mount and as a bodyguard. A minor enchantment allows him to disguise himself as a regular crow. Resonance is an azure blue longsword with a mind of his own. He can intercept minor attacks and can teleport to his owner. He can also use a personal reserve of magic to aid in the casting of a single spell.
Allegiances: Isra
Player's online availability : Frequently
Registered: Mar 27, 2015 22:57:52 GMT -8
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Post by Jun of the Celadine on Nov 3, 2018 21:41:46 GMT -8
Jun and her giant crow had indeed tailed the manticore. Vaelar had been a true gentleman in allowing her steed to take advantage of the low-pressure wake created by the massive beast. It had been a smooth ride, and had Jun bothered to coif her hair for the occasion, she probably would have appreciated it that much more. But her dress more than compensated for that. She chuckled to herself, remembering the frilly pink get-up that he had compelled her to wear for the wedding of Professor Echoes and Reuna Laurént. Both of their tastes had been significantly refined by age. She was now wearing a currant red formal gown, with lemonade pink cloth draped around her bosom and waists. The dress had a built-in cross-laced corset with thin, goldenrod frills on top. The bottom half had a currant top layer and a rosewood underlayer going straight down the middle, accentuating an hour-glass figure that Jun barely even knew she had. There was something warm and satisfying about being in a fancy dress while riding on Blackbean, on the way to a fancy ball, as opposed to the usual armor and weapons on the way to slay a giant spider. The dress was low enough to conceal the fact that Jun still wore masculine, formal-laced, caramel dress boots underneath. Even after several years, some things still hadn't changed. Getting Jun into high heels would remain a feat comparable with getting a wildebeest into galoshes.
The dark form loomed towards the castle. Blackbean's massive feathers briefly blotted out the sun as he gently descended to the ground. As they arrived, Jun's eyes scrolled over the entire crowd of protesters. Her insides curled. She knew very well that the laws did not discriminate. But it hadn't stopped employers, knights, noblemen, and other men and women of stature from finding their own methods of favoritism. She would have to come to terms with the fact that mortal nature was inherently imperfect, and that all the sapient rights declarations in the world wouldn't change thousands of years of tribalism and hierarchy. As much as she would have liked to do something heroic, now wasn't the time. She was here for Naoki, and indirectly for Vaelar, who had just spent a rather large stint away from civilization. He needed this, and she probably needed this too. It hadn't been long since she had been isolated in a magical forested valley for over a year. She noticed Boscoe's discomfort with weapon's locker duty. Jun's equipment was magically sealed inside several scrolls, which themselves were contained in a sack on Blackbean's saddle. Blackbean cawed at the manticore, as if to say "You too, huh?" "I mean look at the bright side. You two get to hang out and talk about all the stupid things your riders have done in the past." Blackbean nodded rather forcefully as if to say, "You got it." This made Jun frown slightly as she retreated into Vaelar's presence. She slipped her arm into his elbow at the earliest convenience. "You look wonderful, Vaelar. Just, promise me you'll do me a favor and stop me from making an ass of myself at this thing. I'm friends with Naoki and all but this isn't exactly my style."
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Vaelar Black
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 114
Age: 35
Physical Description: Vaelar is a massively tall man, standing at a height of six and a quarter feet and possessing a powerful build. He has flowing, well-kept hair of snow white, reaching down past his shoulders, and eyes of a deep violet. He has a youthful face and a strong, well-cut jawline, usually covered with a dusting of stubble. Overall, his appearance is much more youthful than his actual age, and his energy and charisma has not dissipated over the years of his being a sellsword.
Clothes and Equipment: ===================================================
Outside of battle, Vaelar wears simple and comfortable, yet elegant clothing. His indigo tunic is made of cave spider silk, breathable and flowing, and purposefully baggy so as to show off a hint of his muscular build. He usually wears a set of dark brown leather trousers to go along with it, completing the ensemble with a pair of well-built leather boots.
In battle he wears a set of heavy full plate, the metal of which has been stained black with red trim, an imposing depiction of a red dragon painted across the chest. Normally he wears no helmet, preferring as wide a range of view as possible. As for weaponry, he normally wields a well-made bastard sword handed down his bloodline named "Nightrend", paired with a steel kite shield, although the shield can be abandoned and the bastard sword wielded with two hands. On his belt he generally carries a complement of several different throwable substances, from gaseous potions to napatha to a vial of an unknown, viscous substance which traps his enemy in a thick, sticky black slime, simultaneously slowing their actions and compromising armour strength with its acidity.
Registered: Sept 13, 2015 7:53:53 GMT -8
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Post by Vaelar Black on Nov 3, 2018 22:17:53 GMT -8
Vaelar grins at Jun as she dives down to meet him, giving her a short, elegant bow. As he rises again he holds his arm out to her, hooking it through hers as she does his, and letting his eyes drift over her tasteful couture before those gentle orbs of dark violet come to rest upon her face. He gives a pleased and pleasant smile, different from his usual mischievous grin. A simple, loving gesture that says "you look gorgeous" better than his voice ever could. He smells faintly of roses, and Jun's close proximity gives her a nice whiff of the gentle scented aura. Having re-combed his hair on the way down, his long, wavy silver-white locks are immaculately washed and groomed, though he hasn't bothered to style his hair in any particularly different manner for this event.
"I will do my best to civilise your barbaric ways, my dear," laughs Vaelar, "although I am not exactly a gentleman of great nobility myself! I'd not have run from the comfort of home if I were. Anyhow, my lady, shall we depart? I am certain the Empress would not want to miss the arrival of the lands' greatest hero!" He turns to Boscoe and gives a short gesture with his hand, signaling for him to be at ease and go do what he pleases. The manticore snorts and turns its attention to the giant crow, sharing a look with it. Vaelar turns back to Jun again and nods, his usual grin having returned.
He walks alongside Jun, then, his posture straight and dignified, giving a nod to the security guard and allowing him to search the mercenary if he so chooses. The guard will find nothing of interest, and after being given the pin, Vaelar fastens it to his chest. Assuming Jun follows the same procedure, they step toward the open-air ballroom, making small talk as they walk along the stony path.
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Francois Nicolet Montcalm
Established
Liberty! Equality! Brotherhood!
Roleplay posts: 37
Age: 43
Physical Description: In regards to build he is as average as one may be. Marginally less than 6 feet tall, working man's muscles, well bred if not handsome features, as well as a black mustache and thin yet very dark black hair coupled with hazel eyes.
Clothes and Equipment: He will wear sensible and semi-formal clothing no matter the occasion, and a cap when outdoors. He has basic experience fighting dirty and making weapons out of every day things; pitchforks, scythes, even baguettes dried rock hard for use as a club, one of which he will always carry.
Registered: Jun 15, 2016 6:24:29 GMT -8
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Post by Francois Nicolet Montcalm on Nov 4, 2018 6:44:47 GMT -8
The protestors did not seem to mind the arrival of the large predatormounts, merely throwing shame upon those arriving for supporting a racist regime. Indeed it would seem almost as if they were anticipated; at the arrival of the gryphon, manticore, and crow a individual would detach themselves from the organized group at a quick sprint; unknown though possibly guessed were their motives, that they were running back to the city to spread the word of how they were implicitly threatened with murderous creatures in an attempt to intimidate those who were simply expressing their views and trying to end racial hatred. This all brought a smirk upon the face of Francois, for in an hour or so there would be more people arriving as a direct result.
However, once he saw Julane Gael arrive he did raise an eyebrow. He had come to the city a year or so after it was founded and was generally aware of who this was. For some who may have been personally helped this could make an impasse with their dedication to the protest, and at the same time if she engaged some of the... less intelligent members of the group this could very well hurt their credibility. Passing his board to the man to his right he pushed through the growing throng and made it clear that he would be the speaker with an upraised fist.
"Can't you read the signs? We're protesting against the discriminatory actions taken against gnomes by the self-proclaimed empress, and to let those who attend know quite well they are supporting hate and racism. Or has time in high society made these things beneath you?" The words were calculated before hand to limit the option of reaction to his counterpart, the mustached man grinning smugly as even those in the crowd who may have been personally helped by Julane cheered.
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Healer Julane Gael
Committed
Roleplay posts: 58
Age: 27
Physical Description: Healer Julane is a tall, slender woman with soft glacial blue inquisitive eyes and long, silky smooth white hair, falling straight down to about halfway down her back, prim and well taken care of. Her eyebrows are almost always slightly furrowed, and her soft pink lips always turned up into a smile, giving her a gentle, kindly face, despite its slender and otherwise sharp features. Her figure is slim and somewhat muted, with a rather unimpressive bust and legs meant less for outdoorsy physical activity and more for long strides across a library. Her fingers are long and slender, like a pianist's, and although they tend to be utilised more for flipping pages and casting spells, she does "dabble" in the citole, as she puts it, though in reality she's a very proficient musician. Her voice is soft, clear, and crisp, wonderfully suited for calming down patients or ordering nurses around without so much as a raised tone.
Clothes and Equipment: ===========================================
Healer Julane is almost always dressed in her white, plain and yet elegant flowing silken robes, the upper half of which is split to show a long tract of flesh down the centre of her torso, the reason behind this stated to be to disarm patients upon the battlefield by showing them that she is unarmed and not an enemy, although it has the side-effect of looking somewhat unnecessarily immodest. The lower half, however, is slightly thicker, the skirt overlapping on itself once in the front, falling down to right below her ankles to cover her booted feet without making her trip over herself.
She almost always wears a storage belt with phials and small satchels hanging off of it, making a musical clinking as she walks along. A small, ornate and yet primitive round charm with two eagle feathers hanging from leather cords is always on her person, usually latched to her belt, and she has been known to risk her own life to retrieve it if lost. No one knows the purpose of the object, but all know it is sacred to her.
Unlike her mentor, Andraste, Julane doesn't carry about a hefty tome full of spells. Instead, she carries about a compact booklet full of all the incantations, evocations, and charms a healer must know in order to be proficient. In addition to this, her staff is made of solid redwood, straight and well-carved with swirling Elven runes etched into its length, the tip widening and spiralling about to caress a large opal the size of a fist, quite an unusual channelling stone to be upon a mage's staff. Its utility is singular: light, defence, and healing spells, and the stone excels at enhancing those magics, but one will find it difficult if not impossible or extremely dangerous to cast offensive, dark, or blood magic spells using the stone. Luckily, it's perfect for Julane. Although she doesn't know it, Healer Julane is also very good at passive magical suggestion, her words seeming to carry a tone of authority no matter how they're spoken, causing those undefended hearts and minds to be drawn to her ideals.
Registered: Sept 27, 2015 19:17:19 GMT -8
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Post by Healer Julane Gael on Nov 4, 2018 8:49:43 GMT -8
Julane responds in a way that perhaps even Francois might be surprised at. She frowns deeper, and plants her staff in the ground. "I am afraid I know not of what you speak, but I am not in support of any discriminatory law. I have been...otherwise occupied for a number of years now and have not had time to pay attention to the goings-on of government and society at large," she speaks, her voice carrying despite its demure tone.
"Please, tell me: what is this law against gnomes and how did it come to pass? I have only known the Empress to be a kind and intelligent individual and it is worrying to me that she may be passing laws explicitly against a section of her people," she continues, her white-hued brows furrowed slightly.
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Gazuu
New
Roleplay posts: 5
Registered: Dec 6, 2017 5:54:52 GMT -8
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Post by Gazuu on Nov 4, 2018 12:56:04 GMT -8
Gazuu and a few other members of the Upstanding Citizens Brigade crested the hill nearest the entryway of the Untyrid Hall, the entrance to Isra's latest and fanciest affair. Gazzu was dressed in his normal clothing minus his sword and staff, but with a few add ons to his wardrobe. Upon his head the gnome wore the top hat of a gentleman, black velvet with a red band just above the brim. Around him he wrapped a woman's shawl, dark gray in color, which might have covered a normal bigfolk woman from neck to waist but covered the gnome from neck to just below his knees. As the small party of gnomes crested the hill, Gazuu looked down on the scene. He stopped for a minute, and squinted. "Son of a bitch!" he shouted, and swept the top hat off of his head with his right hand. He slammed the hat into the ground, distraught. "Rights? Justice? We don't want 'justice', we want inside the ball! What are these assholes doing to us?" Gazuu hastily took off his shawl, and stuffed it into the hands of one of the other gnomes. "We're never going to get inside with these moron bigfolk protesting for gnome rights or whatever the hell they think they're doing." Gazuu began stomping down the hill as he spoke, not even speaking to anyone in particular by that time. "Idiots! Assholes! I can't believe this!"By the time Gazuu made it to the entryway Francois Nicolet Montcalm was already talking to Healer Julane Gael, the former revealing himself to be the apparent leader of the protesters. Instantly the saltiness had drained from the gnome. "Hello!" he said sweetly to the pair, interrupting the conversation as he bowed slightly to the woman before turning towards Francois. He smiled and reached for the man's hand, holding on to it much like a child would. "Sir uhh Bigfolk.. I would like to tell you how we very much appreciate what you and the other bigfolk here are doing for us gnomes. Its really wonderful stuff! No one's ever stood up for gnomes like this! Its heartwarming, its humbling really!" Gazuu continued talking as he pulled on Francois' arm slightly, trying to guide the man away from the group and banking on the fact that he wouldn't want to be seen pulling away from a gnome being so complimentary to the man's efforts. "Sir bigfolk if you'd come right this way I'd very much like to introduce you to my gnome friends! They're a little nervous and shy for obvious reasons but I've told them we have a friend in these bigfolk. I promised them I'd bring just you back so you can talk to them, make them feel more comfortable, and we can all work together to end this horrible racism against us." If he didn't resist, Gazuu would pull the man towards the hill he'd just come down. The largest portion of the gnomes had remained concealed in the trees and darkness.
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Robert Fletcher
Dedicated
Robert's assistant: https://i.imgur.com/mvP7J3d.png
Roleplay posts: 376
Age: 22
Physical Description: White hair, fancy clothes, strong jawline. Robert is fairly attractive, but thinks he's much more handsome than he actually is. He has scars on his chest from stab wounds that he never talks about, although women are usually impressed by them.
Clothes and Equipment: Expensive, custom tailored clothes. He's fairly rich and carries around a shiny knife. The clothes are armored, but the plates are well hidden.
Allegiances: The Isran Empire
Player's online availability : Early mornings and late evenings
Registered: Aug 14, 2015 16:15:01 GMT -8
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Post by Robert Fletcher on Nov 4, 2018 14:11:52 GMT -8
Robert looked around at the protesters in confusion. What was going on here? Why were there so many tiny angry people waving signs? It was all very strange, but as long as nobody threw a rock at him he didn't mind them so much. He had a ball to go to, after all. As he navigated his way through the crowd, he glanced back at his two companions.
"Uncle Renalt, do you want to stand on the other side of Dixie over there? That way, if somebody throws something, she doesn't get hit...that would be bad. Also, you have the chocolate, right?"
He'd thought it strange that his uncle, of all people, had been invited to this ball. It made sense for himself to be there, as he was an Isran official, and he knew the Empress had taken a liking to Dixie. Renalt, though, was an odd choice. Robert knew that Naoki frequented the shop, and was rather fond of his uncle's chocolate, but it was still a surprise. He wasn't going to complain, however. He liked his uncle, and it was good to get Renalt out of the shop before he turned into a grouchy old man. It had been a hard sell to get him to come along, but he knew that his uncle had a sweet spot for Dixie, and had gotten her to help convince him to attend. This was definitely a fancy event, and so Robert was dressed in one of his fancier suits. The Empress had mentioned that she'd liked it that one time, and so he figured that it would work well for something like this.
Once they reached the entryway, Robert signed into the guest-book and pinned the little flag to his lapel. It was small and unobtrusive, but convenient and easy to see. A good way to easily spot unwanted guests in the ball, he figured.
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