Kojuro Hizashi
Dedicated
Lord of Kiyonai
Roleplay posts: 354 
Age: 23
Physical Description: Kojuro stands at a little above average height, and a slender, athletic build. His dark brown hair falls to just beneath chin level, and he usually wears it tied back. His eyes are a bright brown colour, so light as to be close to orange. He is usually well but simply dressed, and carries himself with a relaxed air, taking most things in his stride. He has several recently acquired scars, including a sword cut to his left arm which has left him only partial use of that hand, and a another from a sword cut along his jawline on the right side.
Clothes and Equipment: He is normally dressed in conventional attire for his culture and social class. As a lord, his clothing is high quality, though not ostentatious. For everyday wear a simple kosode and hakama, silk courtly robes for official duties, and armour on the battlefield. He prefers greens and blues, though often may be wearing the maroon and gold of the Hizashi clan.
In battle he can be noticed from a distance by the dragonfly crest on his helmet. He also wears a surcoat in Hizashi maroon and gold and a set of lacquered armour bearing the Hizashi clan cherry blossom crest. In battle he is armed with a tachi (long sword) and a tanto (dagger), and also carries a fan to signal orders. He will also be found carrying his swords everywhere, as is usual for samurai.
Allegiances: Tawakoshi, The Hizashi Clan
Player's online availability : For play: Some evenings, GMT. I am not around every day for RP, because life. For chatting/PMs: Most days/eves GMT.
Registered: May 10, 2017 13:44:12 GMT -8
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Post by Kojuro Hizashi on Nov 4, 2018 15:11:38 GMT -8
Kojuro had been brimming with enthusiasm about his first ever foreign trip from the get-go and arriving at the Untyrid Hall in Isra, it was still largely undimmed. Nothing he had heard or read had prepared him for finally arriving in a foreign land. Even the air tasted different. The Tawakoshi party arrived at the Untyrid Hall, with Lord Kojuro Hizashi of Kiyonai, his consort Nakatani, his friend Wuppo, as well as Lord Akagi Zuikaku of Quying. The party rode up on horseback accompanied by a number of armour clad samurai with banners bearing the cherry blossom crest of Tawakoshi's ruling house, the Hizashi, as well as Quying's insignia. Servants followed, some carrying a large quantity of extravagant gifts for Empress Naoki that had been personally picked and insisted upon by Lady Kiri. Kojuro arrived with a slight smile on his face, still delighted by almost everything he saw, but trying not to look too overly impressed and wide-eyed. He was dressed in a moss green silk court outfit, the height of formality in Tawakoshi, with an under-robe of the maroon that was the Hizashi house colour. It was an understated but elegant look.  You will have to mentally erase the moustache. He was looking forward to meeting the foreign dignitaries, hoping that by choosing a party who all had experience of travel, and in Akagi's case, had even met with the Isran Empress before, they could avoid the unfortunate culture clash that had happened when the Lord and Lady Regent visited Audria recently. He signed his name and relinquished his weapons, surprised that they would take even the sidearms from the samurai lords, but since this was a foreign custom in a foreign land, he made no issue of it. “I hope you're making a note of whose is which,” he joked with the official taking the weapons, as he noted quite a large number already stacked up behind the scenes. He took the Isran pin curiously and entered, looking to Nakatani with a smile, that they might enter together. Nakatani Wuppo Daimyo Akagi Zuikaku |
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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 15:18:42 GMT -8
"Ah-ha! You see what the establishment in the government makes of good folk?" he queried, to a few angry shouts from the crowd. He had to be very careful what he said to make sure he neither alienated Julane, but nor could he leave either the crowd without passion or the woman without guilt for her association with hate and racism.
He was about to elaborate further when Gazuu interjected, much from his surprise. There were about six gnomes assembled in the crowd already without the upstanding citizen's brigade arriving, and a few more showing up did look good. He listened to his words with a smile, but only a blink betrayed the slight amount of suspicion and distress he felt at the gnome trying to lead him away. Instead in a smooth motion he pulled his arm back and spread them wide. "Your friends shouldn't worry, they can come out and see for themselves, we are all here in support of them!" he shouted, before giving a wave to Untyrid hall. "However, I must stay here for the moment. Arrivals to the ball here must see the villainy which they support and feel shame over their actions."
Indeed, it seemed Robert arrived just after, to an angry shout or two.
"United we stand against hate!"
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Kate Green
Dedicated
Assessing the damage w/ Naoki
Roleplay posts: 309 
Age: 19
Physical Description: Kate is built slenderly, but working in her gardens and on the field has defined her muscles. Her eyes shine with an amber hue and her silvery hair never seems to get dirty from the work she still insists on doing herself.
(Full Sized image: http://imgur.com/bJTWavF)
Clothes and Equipment: She wears a pink apron on her that has a simple square pattern. Underneath, brownish green pants and a black tube top. Many tools, such as a flower shovel, a small rake and a spray bottle, fit inside her pockets. A large red ribbon complements her hair.
When she was working at the Midnight Sun, she replaced her red ribbon with a black one she was gifted when she first joined. She also had a green dress, gifted to her by Naoki.
After being gone away for a long time, she has since expanded her wardrobe, and tends not to think about her clothes too much and follows whatever trends Naoki says are popular now.
Player's online availability : Consistently inconsistent
Registered: Sept 4, 2015 15:04:46 GMT -8
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Post by Kate Green on Nov 4, 2018 15:19:20 GMT -8
A nondescript carriage arrived without fanfare. It flew no flags, the horses that drew it were far from pureblood stallions. It was a rental, whose driver was told to drop its only passenger here, and take the rest of the evening off to spend with his family.
The man, with some silver in his hair already, stopped his trusty horses in front of the mansion. He jumped down and opened the door. “We’re here miss.” He bowed clumsily. He wasn’t used to taking people this far outside of town, not to mention to a place such as this.
The driver extended his hand to help the young woman step down. It was appreciated, the dress had been expensive and to ruin it now would be a shame. She smiled brightly to the man. “Don’t look so out of place. Half the people in there aren’t as wonderful as you.”
The man looked at his feet but it was apparent the compliment had been appreciated. He figured to say something, so he cleared his throat. “You… look very beautiful.”
She giggled. “I should hope so. There is someone I need to impress.” The woman then gave the driver a quick kiss, very close to the corner of his mouth. “Your wife must be happy. Why don’t you get her something nice before you head home.” She twirled the rose in her hand and stepped lightly towards the mansion.
As for the driver, he stood there a moment looking at her until she disappeared behind the doors, then drove home in silence, only the trees rustling around him.
(Kate takes a pin on her way in and sets it on her chest.)
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Daimyo Akagi Zuikaku
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 181
Age: 29
Physical Description: Black hair matches a pair of green eyes and well-tanned skin. His hands bear numerous scars from rope burns and large splinters, as do his legs. He is well-muscled, looking more like a dock-worker than a daimyo, but he emphasizes the ability to do personally what he commands others to do. It is not uncommon that he smells of the sea, in fact he tends to bathe in it, using the power of the sea to cleanse his body.
Clothes and Equipment: He wears traditional samurai armor, which has been carefully constructed and enchanted to prevent damage by corrosion or rust in the salty environment he is often found in. His katana has received the same treatment, the handle wrapped in the skin of a monstrous shark, the blade forged from the toughest steel.
Registered: Jun 27, 2016 9:39:02 GMT -8
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Post by Daimyo Akagi Zuikaku on Nov 4, 2018 15:38:18 GMT -8
Kojuro had been brimming with enthusiasm about his first ever foreign trip from the get-go and arriving at the Untyrid Hall in Isra, it was still largely undimmed. Nothing he had heard or read had prepared him for finally arriving in a foreign land. Even the air tasted different. The Tawakoshi party arrived at the Untyrid Hall, with Lord Kojuro Hizashi of Kiyonai, his consort Nakatani, his friend Wuppo, as well as Lord Akagi Zuikaku of Quying. The party rode up on horseback accompanied by a number of armour clad samurai with banners bearing the cherry blossom crest of Tawakoshi's ruling house, the Hizashi, as well as Quying's insignia. Servants followed, some carrying a large quantity of extravagant gifts for Empress Naoki that had been personally picked and insisted upon by Lady Kiri. Kojuro arrived with a slight smile on his face, still delighted by almost everything he saw, but trying not to look too overly impressed and wide-eyed. He was dressed in a moss green silk court outfit, the height of formality in Tawakoshi, with an under-robe of the maroon that was the Hizashi house colour. It was an understated but elegant look. You will have to mentally erase the moustache. He was looking forward to meeting the foreign dignitaries, hoping that by choosing a party who all had experience of travel, and in Akagi's case, had even met with the Isran Empress before, they could avoid the unfortunate culture clash that had happened when the Lord and Lady Regent visited Audria recently. He signed his name and relinquished his weapons, surprised that they would take even the sidearms from the samurai lords, but since this was a foreign custom in a foreign land, he made no issue of it. “I hope you're making a note of whose is which,” he joked with the official taking the weapons, as he noted quite a large number already stacked up behind the scenes. He took the Isran pin curiously and entered, looking to Nakatani with a smile, that they might enter together. Nakatani Wuppo Daimyo Akagi Zuikaku The Daimyo was considerably less excited than Lord Kojuro about the trip, they had left a lot behind in Tawakoshi, the country still stabilizing after the brief, but violent, civil war. Yet, his attendance further cemented the renewed bond between Quying and the rest of the alliance, so he was determined to try and enjoy it. His previous trip had also been during a formal Isran event, though he had to admit that this one was much more to his liking than the Prospernalian Festival. He too handed over his weaponry, not overly thrilled to be doing so but understanding the reasoning nonethless. His robes were relatively simple, fashioned in the blue, white, and green of Quying, with the flag of Tawakoshi on one shoulder, representative of their new unity. |
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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 17:48:54 GMT -8
Julane sighs at the angry cries of the protesters at Francois' inflammatory words, placing her index and middle finger to her forehead before looking back up.
"Surely you have seen my white-robed apprentices carrying on my work where I cannot. However, might we keep this somewhat civil?" she asks pleadingly.
"Nothing good comes of shouting at one another. If you will simply tell me what troubles you, I may be able to help relieve your pain. It is, after all, what I do best."
She glances askance at the gnome for a moment. Being a doctor, she knows when one is putting on a facade, and this gnome doesn't seem as genuine as he could be. She tilts her head at him but says nothing, instead just examining him for a moment with her metallic silver eyes. Before she can speak up, Francois has spoken instead, making it quite clear that he doesn't intend to leave the spot. As he continues on, however, Julane's attention to him wanes for a moment. Her mouth turns back up into a soft smile as she looks among the crowd, giving nods to a few familiar faces. Her eyes lock upon a familiar face and she nods to a burly man in dockworker clothes, speaking directly to him.
"Ah, Mister Johnathan Varnelle! It has been months! Did your wife recover from the Lockjaw? I wished to see you for a follow-up but when I came to your house I found it abandoned, and the other dockworkers would say nothing but that you were away when I came to visit at your worksite. Three half-doses of aqua firma a day for a month should have staved off the lethal effects after my initial cleansing spell; I hope she is doing alright, but I would like to see you again whenever you've a spare moment."
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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 19:19:28 GMT -8
Francois gives a deep sigh of inner pain placing both his hands together as if in prayer and then lowers them in unison to navel height. "We are indeed very civil mademoiselle, if we were uncivil we'd be charging the gates laying down our lives for what we believe in and being massacred by the forces of oppression. But we believe in peaceful protest and a chance to express opinion freely. However, that does not mean that we shan't ridicule the ridiculous, it is as simple as that! You may have trained some young folk to go use healing magic but to be frank I and many others who have become disenfranchised with the regime do not see a reason to believe they aren't some ploy to mollify folk as oppression continues."
After the interaction with the gnomes was over, and the woman pointed out a few familiar faces who could do naught but show embarrassment Francois gave Julane a grin. 'Clever girl' he mouthed unseen to all but his counterpart. "Well madam, if you've dressed up so fancily in that tailored dress to sip on wines pricey enough to feed a family, we won't stop you. Or you can stand here, united against hate."
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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 19:34:37 GMT -8
Julane finishes her conversation with the "Johnathan" fellow before acknowledging Francois' interruption. She turns back to him and gives a gracious smile.
"Civility is relative. In any case, if you don't intend to stop me I might ask, simply, what you hope to accomplish by proselytising to those who do not wish to hear you? Would you not be better served speaking to the common folk, or perhaps the Empress herself?" asks Julane, tilting her head to the side slightly. Then, an idea dawns on her, and her smile grows again.
"How about this, Mister...ah, I apologise, I have rudely neglected to exchange introductions. I am Grand Healer Julane Gael, of the Isran Enclave. You are?" she asks, her tone genuine and soft, disarming even. Assuming he returns the introduction, she continues.
"Why don't you come along with me as my plus-one? You are already dressed formally, as the occasion requires, and you do not seem to be carrying any weapons. Should you promise to act civil, I would be more than happy to walk with you, and hear your complaints, and if I find them agreeable even to bring them up to the Empress with you by my side."
She crosses her hands over her redwood staff and awaits Francois' answer with a genuine and pleasant smile upon her shining pink lips.
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Queen Belestrasza Velmerys
Established
Absolute Ruler of the Velmerian Empire
Roleplay posts: 19
Age: 35
Physical Description: Queen Velmerys is very haughty and conveys that through her stature and way of dress. Her white hair frames her pale face, usually kept in a high bun.
She is only 5'3", though she often wears high heels. Her eyes are a light blue, nearly as pale as her skin.
Clothes and Equipment: All of the Queen's clothing displays the banner of the Velmerys Imperium. All are black in color, from horse riding gear to a formal event.
She is not in need of any equipment, she has all of the Imperium.
Allegiances: Velmerys Imperium
Player's online availability : Fridays, Weekends
Registered: Jun 11, 2018 7:15:07 GMT -8
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Post by Queen Belestrasza Velmerys on Nov 4, 2018 22:46:02 GMT -8
Belestrasza looked outside of the window as their carriage brought them towards Untyrid Hall. The tunnel of trees was rather nice, but she was rather tired of sitting around, even if it was cushioned. She pushed a platinum blonde curl behind her ear, casting a sidelong glance at Sinipius. She didn’t really look long enough to see if he was doing something before her eyes had returned to the window, where they had been almost all morning. A tiny flame appeared in her hand, once again heating up the tea she had held for the past hour. She took a dainty sip, before sitting back in her seat. “Sinipius, what do you think of Isra?” - Sinipius, sitting opposite the Queen of Velmerys, had also been staring out the window. On the seat beside him was a small stack of old leather-bound books, scrolls, and documents. Mostly related to Isra. Sinipius was sure to do as much research on the Empire during the long trip down here, but now he was simply studying the scenery. He had to admit, it was beautiful country. He turned his head towards his Queen when she spoke to him and offered her a thoughtful expression. “They have done much in the short few years they have existed. They are not to be underestimated...but neither should we be.” He thought to say more, but nothing really came to mind at that time. He was still processing the information he absorbed during the ride. Lost in his thoughts once more, his gaze returned to the window as well. - Pale blue eyes skirted back to the old man, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. She turned to him, the sound of the horse's hooves on the stone pathway slowed, then came to a stop as their ride came to a stop. The nearest guard opened the door, swinging it outward, and offered his hand. The Queen did stand, but she did not exit right away, she lurched across the carriage. Halting herself before her court mage, she pressed her lips against his cheek, smearing it with her black lipstick. Her retreat from the inside of the carriage was orderly, accepting the help from the Velmerian guard. Bel glanced around, her hands pulling the hem of her dress, lest she tripped and fell. Turning about, again, she looked to Sinipius, extending her arm. “Escort me in.” - He shouldn’t have been, but SInipius was quite caught off guard by the sudden feeling of soft, moist, lips pressed against his cheek as he stared out the windows. His eyes widened and he snapped his head towards Belestrasza, but before he could react, she was slinking out of the carriage. “You little…” he mumbled as he uncrossed his legs and followed Bel out of the carriage, waving away the help of their guards. He watched her adjust her dress and lift the hem slightly so she could walk freely. He couldn’t help but admire her...when she couldn’t see, of course. He sidled up next to her and gave her a mischevious smirk when she gave him her arm expectantly. “Of course,” he replied sarcastically, offering his elbow dramatically. “You men,” he called out to their personal guard, waving his free hand dismissively at them. “Stay by the carriage, I can protect the Queen.” Once he had her arm, he led the way down the elegant sidewalk around the house where they were directed. The thought she left a mark with her dark lipstick on his cheek earlier never crossed his mind, and so it stayed… - Belestrasza bent over, signing the guestbook first, then signing it for Sinipius. The hand that she had offered to be escorted with continually stroked the fine muscle under the dress shirt, it helped her somewhat, to concentrate. The Isran flag pin was placed next to the flag of Velmerys. She helped Sinipius pin his, which meant she did it for him, and didn’t listen to where he wanted it put, even if he did say anything. “With these, we can enter the Ball.” Bel looked up at Sinipius. “Shall we?” - Sinipius raised a curious eyebrow when he noticed Belestrasza was signing in the guest book for him. Guess he was just some helpless old man who couldn’t write for himself. Hmph. It got even better when she accepted his pin on his behalf and had the gall to place it on him. His free hand snapped to hers and gripped her wrist tightly and he opened his mouth to speak, but then he looked up and remembered where they were. This wasn’t the place or time, so he released her. Instead, he sighed and nodded. “We shall,” he replied tersely, and walked into the ballroom arm-in-arm with Queen Belestrasza. (Written in tandem, by Ophelia & Dot  ) |
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Archbishop Alured Norian
Committed
Roleplay posts: 71
Age: 356
Physical Description: Seven-feet-tall wearing a heavy, black leather cloak. A wide brimmed hat sits upon his head, and he wears a curious, pointed mask, fit with black lenses that hide its eyes. Occasionally sickly-sweet smelling gas rises from small vents on their side of the "beak".
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When not wearing what he refers to as his ceremonial garb, he reveals himself to be an elf. His face is lined with age and his hair is short and slicked back, black streaked with gray. His eyes are orange, and despite his races propensity towards merriment, he wears a permanent scowl that exudes a cold aura of authority.
Clothes and Equipment: A heavy leather jacket, gloves, a wide-brimmed hat and a plague doctor's mask. He has with him on a strap a holy book, bound in black leather with silver linings.
His mask has enchantments that largely eliminate inhaled poisons, sight-based magics or effects or even the need for air. His jacket functions as a flexible suit of metal armor and hampers weapons as such. It cannot be slices, however crushing and large amounts of piercing damage may penetrate it. It can be fixed, but it takes time, and thus can't be performed during battles.
He carries no weapons and fights unarmed, although he has a knife for general purposes. His leather gloves function as gauntlets and can pack quite a punch.
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Allegiances: The Church of Varafel
Player's online availability : Frequent
Registered: Dec 22, 2017 15:51:51 GMT -8
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Post by Archbishop Alured Norian on Nov 4, 2018 23:16:57 GMT -8
Out of one of the many cycling carriages ferrying people to the grand ball, an elf emerged, unbending as he stood at his full height. Archbishop Alured Norian of the Church of Varafel wore a blue vest over a pristinely white, slightly ruffled shirt beneath. A symbol of Varafel hung from a thin silver chain, and he pulled lightly on the white gloves he wore. He felt...out of place. Exposed. This clothing was new to him, relatively modern, but one of his followers had been surprisingly vocal about not wearing his usual garb to a ball that he was directly invited to. She seemed to know what she was doing, at least. His face was bare, orange eyes cutting burning streaks where he stared, free of their mask for longer than he had been in some time. His hair, streaked back, was away from his face as he progressed towards the sign-in with deliberate steps. Even out of his uniform, he was an imposing figure, and the he held himself with an aura of authority rarely matched. Once he had penned his name into the book, the elven man accepted his pin, fastening it to his chest as he headed towards the building proper, taking in the sights of the other guests. |
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Wuppo
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 114
Physical Description: "The citizens of Tamatoshi Bay would lay eyes on Wuppo, a 10-foot tall ogre, dirty with grime and what was probably dried blood. The giant's black beard was messily braided and twisted into two strands that hung from his chin, and the hair atop his head tied into a somewhat familiar but not entirely correct topknot."
Registered: Jun 20, 2017 3:10:43 GMT -8
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Post by Wuppo on Nov 5, 2018 3:12:29 GMT -8
At first blush, Wuppo was an exceedingly odd choice for a ball attendee; and perhaps even at second or third blush. He was an ogre (not a species exactly known for their grace and intelligence), didn't have an excellent grasp on language (which would likely make polite conversation difficult), and did not completely understand the culture of the humans in his home in Kiyonai Province, much less the ones in Isra. But for every reason for him to be absent, one might think of another reason for his presence. The ogre had proven himself to be a valuable asset on the battlefield as one of Kojuro's personal guard, he was honest, fiercely loyal, had been outside of Tawakoshi on his own once in the past, and at least was making an attempt in earnest to understand the world around him. However, the real reason he was present was much more simple than all of that; it was because he and Kojuro were friends, and that was enough. In the weeks and moths prior to their leaving, Wuppo had been very excited about the prospect of going on an adventure to a foreign land new to both Kojuro and him, without the expectation of fighting once they arrived. Wuppo was fitted for proper clothing befitting a representative of Clan Hizashi, which had to be custom made given his size. Wuppo was just slightly taller than a mounted rider sitting tall in the saddle on the back of a sturdy mount, but the tailors an seamstresses of Tawakoshi came through in fine style. As the group of mounted riders approached the entrance to the ball, they would see the near 10-foot-tall Wuppo, on foot, clad in a deep blue colored kasode (robe-style top), black hakama (trousers), and the same deep blue color for his kaori (long, flowing jacket). The clothes weren't quite as formal as what the party's leader Kojuro was wearing, but the fact that the ogre was wearing clothes at all was a small miracle. He was even comfortable to boot. 
Wuppo approached the ledger that he'd seen everyone else signing in on, and looked down at it. He picked up the pen and held it in his hand with the tip pointing out away from him, like one would position the blade of a dagger to defend themselves. The ogre bent down, and scrunched up his mouth to one side of his face, then the other. He then put the tip of the pen down on the paper, the end of his tongue protruding from his lips just a bit, and began making strange, non-concentric circles with other lines and markings through them. The result was an amorphous blob of a signature, completely devoid of anything that looked like an actual language.
"Leafy bits!" Wuppo announced to the person standing by to hand him his pen. He pointed to the book where he'd just made the strange marking, which smudged the still wet ink slightly. "Leafy bits - Wuppo. I'z Wuppo." He pointed to himself with a satisfied smile on his face, apparently proud that he'd solved the puzzle of signing his name without the luxury of being able to read or write. Wuppo had no weapons to turn in, as he'd found a proper hiding place for his beloved club just out of sight of the ball - unwilling to relinquish it to anyone he didn't know. |
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Nakatani
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 389
Age: 20
Physical Description: Nakatani used to be a Meiko (apprentice geisha) in Katashima. Currently she is in service of Lord Genji. She has a cute and small rounded face and long black hair, usually knotted in the old Geisha styles.
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Clothes and Equipment: Nakatani is almost always found wearing beautiful and elegant kimono's made of high quality silks and other fabrics.
When in the comfort of her own home, she will wear her hair down or in a ponytail with a natural look and a simple linnen kimono to keep herself comfortable, but she will rarely show herself that way in public.
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Registered: Jul 3, 2015 8:37:33 GMT -8
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Post by Nakatani on Nov 5, 2018 3:44:27 GMT -8
Nakatani would arrive with the rest of the party from Tawakoshi. The traveling had made her both excited and very nervous. It had only been a short while back when all she had been was one of the maids of the household and she frankly felt out of place. She was scared to mess up her etiquettes or even make a fool of Kojuro or Lord Akagi Zuikaku. Now that she had become the official consort she felt like she had to show off some sort of nobility. She wanted people to be impressed about them as a couple instead of wondering why a high lord like Kojuro would ever waste his time with a simple girl like her.
So she had spend a long time to make sure she looked as impressive as she could. She had brought out her old Geisha kit and replaced everything that had spoiled over time. She had painted her lips a beautiful bright red, darkened her eyebrows and put a dark shade on her eyelids to make her own eyes appear much bigger. It had sure been a long time since she had done a full face of make-up. She was wearing a cologne that smelled like orange blossoms, given off a sweet but pleasant smell. She wore a darkred kimono made of exquisite silks, it had sakura flowers and petals embroidered all over it along with a few branches that only appeared on the left side. Along with it she wore a simple brown obi, not wanting it to take away from the beautiful design. Her hair was done back in a beautiful and complicated knot accompanied with golden and maroon ornaments that she had been given by Lady Sayuri. Sadly the lady herself had not been able to join the party now that her belly was growing big with a baby. Such a far travel would have been way to exhausting for her. So in a way Nakatani felt like it was her duty to be here in her stead. To represent the female part of Tawakoshi, even if she knew that some cultures didn't regard females very highly.
Still, her nervousness was plenty and she didn't find the courage to speak to any of the guards around her. She gladly wrote her name down on the paper and bowed to them in appreciation, but kept her mouth shut. For now she was satisfied simply following the rest of the party.
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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 5, 2018 5:06:39 GMT -8
Francois laughs at the statement civility is relative, and nods in concurrence. "All too true, Madame Gael. However when the sum total of what people consider is civil is examined - a sort of 'meta-civil' nature - one can use it to remain considered civil in the eyes of as many as possible. Central tendency, and all that. I do not speak to the Empress because I can't, she's an Empress now not an elected body that has to care what people think. I have already spoken to the common folk, behind me you see the result. Though naturally, I shall do so again. No, for now I wish to incur shame and guilt upon those supporting an event that spreads hate and misinformation, so that perhaps the creator of this vile event may understand consequences of such hate."
Francois was however caught extremely off-guard at Julane's proposal. Almost comically his mustache drooped, but he quickly recovered. "I know who you are, I am Francois Nicolet Montcalm, Monsieur Montcalm or Francois to most. I have had my fair taste of high society so this shan't be much new to me. I can go in eating food that will be sorely desired by those with empty stomachs and why not — better than it being thrown away, eh? But I for now must stand in solidarity with the rest of the protest." At this point the man draws a small notebook from a pocket and examines it. "Tomorrow is not a work day for me, so I may attend, but only in an hour or so; when most of the guests have arrived and my comrades leave to sleep for the next work day." |
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Lord Mykola Volkh
Committed
Roleplay posts: 82
Physical Description: Six feet and some change, his skin is pallid, making the shadows cast over his gaunt face seem even darker. His ears taper to a point, whether through the Curse or from before his change is unknown. Black hair falls in a straight black waterfall down his back. His eyes, when sated, are red. The longer he goes without feeding, however, his eyes grow darker until completely black and soulless. Has sharp incisors.
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Clothes and Equipment: Typically wears a series of seven doublets he keeps in impeccable condition. Wears a mantle even indoors and when alone.
Has a magical sword that has layer upon layer of powerful enchantments to increase durability to survive the full force of his blows. When it bites into flesh it absorbs blood, fueling and healing its wielder.
Has three rings, one of which lets him teleport within the confines of his castle. The second provides some protection from sunlight, giving him a few precious moments to retreat into darkness. The third lets him detect intruders and activate his defenses within his castle, even when away.
When grasping the end of his cloak it becomes hard, allowing him to use it as a shield.
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Registered: Jan 5, 2018 17:01:37 GMT -8
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Post by Lord Mykola Volkh on Nov 5, 2018 10:54:19 GMT -8
Whoosh!The flash of black fire that materialized Lord Mykola Volkh could have easily been missed, as he and Natasa Waltine arrived in rather peculiar style, a short ways aside from where most of the carriages were stopping to drop off their passengers. Tall and dressed in fine black silks with gold trimmings, stitched with a few modest runes of protection. A handsome, black velvet mantle hung over his shoulders, coupled with decorative pauldrons. To top it off, he exuded an almost enchanting aura. It was not overwhelming, but it was enough to make staying near him favorable. It was suffocating to those without magic defenses, but will power was enough to stave off immediate attraction. Crimson eyes scanned the guests and the venue, even hovering momentarily on the gnomes planted outside. How quaint that they allowed a little protest. Of course any Lord or Lady worth their weight in salt would only find such a thing to enhance the excitement of attending. It would be a taboo that they broke, without actually taking any risks that ladies could tell their friends about while sipping tea the next afternoon. "Come, let us sign in." he offered to Natasa, placing his hand over hers as he led her towards the weapons-check and sign-in area.
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Natasa Waltine
Committed
Roleplay posts: 87
Age: 17
Physical Description: Natasa is a small young woman with a face that makes her seem younger than she already is. Though much of her hair is brown at the ends, its streaked heavily with white.
Like her hair, her brown eyes are also being invaded by blue splotches, looking much like a failed paint mixture.
Atop her head, one horn curls up from her temple to the back of her head around her ear, and another has only just broken through the skin.
Registered: Jan 5, 2018 19:09:24 GMT -8
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Post by Natasa Waltine on Nov 5, 2018 11:32:25 GMT -8
Appearing next to this intimidating, stone-faced figure was much his antithesis. In contrast to his dark, bold attire, hers was light and airy, dress floating over the ground as though it were mist. The bodice took the light and mimicked the stars, the ribbons in the back fluttering like two tiny wings. The lady wearing it was meek and small, wide eyes gazing up at the entryway as though she had been taken to a new world. She was nearly as pale as her dress, which matched her flaxen hair and all its feathery ornaments. The picture wasn't perfect, however. In plain view, just above her left breast, was a blackened wound that cracked the skin around it and spilled a faint blue flame. The wound was ugly, but she had told her handmaiden not to cover it. To do so would have been a lie, to paint something that was all too perfect when it was inherently flawed. She would not cover it up any more than she would conceal the horrors that befell her village. For a moment, she found herself clinging to Volkh, overwhelmed by the sudden change in environment. The castle was so dark, so lonely... but this place was bright, all the people within loud and plenty. At least the vampire was familiar, despite her loathing of him. She stuttered a small, "Y-yes," as she followed him, nervousness and excitement making her nauseous. Or... or was it the bodice? Was she getting enough air? What if she made a fool of herself? Natasa took in a breath of air, attempting to take comfort in the hand he put atop hers, instead of being disgusted. |
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Lord Mykola Volkh
Committed
Roleplay posts: 82
Physical Description: Six feet and some change, his skin is pallid, making the shadows cast over his gaunt face seem even darker. His ears taper to a point, whether through the Curse or from before his change is unknown. Black hair falls in a straight black waterfall down his back. His eyes, when sated, are red. The longer he goes without feeding, however, his eyes grow darker until completely black and soulless. Has sharp incisors.
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Clothes and Equipment: Typically wears a series of seven doublets he keeps in impeccable condition. Wears a mantle even indoors and when alone.
Has a magical sword that has layer upon layer of powerful enchantments to increase durability to survive the full force of his blows. When it bites into flesh it absorbs blood, fueling and healing its wielder.
Has three rings, one of which lets him teleport within the confines of his castle. The second provides some protection from sunlight, giving him a few precious moments to retreat into darkness. The third lets him detect intruders and activate his defenses within his castle, even when away.
When grasping the end of his cloak it becomes hard, allowing him to use it as a shield.
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Registered: Jan 5, 2018 17:01:37 GMT -8
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Post by Lord Mykola Volkh on Nov 5, 2018 11:51:55 GMT -8
Handing his sword to the weapons check, Volkh approached the guestbook, signing both himself and his apprentice into it before retrieving two pins. Pinning one onto himself and then carefully repeating the process for Natasa he looked out at the large manor before them.
"I wonder if the Empress is outside." he mused, glancing at his apprentice. "Remember to stay near me. Do not wander far, my magic keeps the curse at bay for now, but if you're too far I cannot promise it will have its full effect. Stay on the premises, preferably within view of me." he explained carefully as he led them towards the building. While he may not enter where he was not invited, few people realized that throwing a ball without restrictions of who was allowed was technically sufficient.
He soon slowed, looking to Natasa. "This is for your benefit. Where would you prefer to go first?"
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Galh'dor Suebek The Bloody
Established
Smile and wave...just smile and wave.
Roleplay posts: 18
Age: Near seventy.
Physical Description:
A hulking mass of black fur peppered with grey towers over the average human. Two dark green eyes stare intently at anything before this massive figure, his near hound like maw : upturned as if amused. Two horns erupt from behind his hog like ears.
The beast' arms are like tree trunks , human like hands like those of a dock worker drum thoughtfully on his tower shield.
His voice rumbles like the earth about to split " And what shall we do with you?" he muses, his grin growing larger by the moment
Registered: Nov 5, 2018 11:31:08 GMT -8
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Post by Galh'dor Suebek The Bloody on Nov 5, 2018 18:17:38 GMT -8
This was humiliating...
Crammed into what most would consider a rather normal carriage sat a hulking figure, brooding over exactly how exactly this little excision was going to play out. It was not that Galh'dor was not accustomed to reactions to his form, nor was he particularly upset over those reactions--- no what made this beast-men grind his teeth sullenly was going to be the near humorous nature of his visit... But it had been decided that one of the clans should at least have a representative mingling in the capital--- It hadn't been put like that but most of his kind were not capable of such conversation... " umm...Sir?--I--- I don't mean to alarm you but there seems to be a mob ahead." Deep green eyes peered from the window-- catching light in the shadows like cat eye-- " Worry not Alexander." A deep rich voice rumbled. "If you read their banners you'll know that they mean you no harm." "Aye, sir." The shaken carriage men said. The man really did have every right to be shaken... What with his kinsmen's procurement of his services... Not many humans got to tell the tale of being ambushed by the Korgan--- fewer could do so without having been harmed in any fashion. Pinching the bridge of his snout Galh'dor exhaled, he'd have to explain to his kin how to better approach other beings but that may prove difficult due to the lack of complex words, how Galh'dor yearned to be as ignorant as his brothers... " Alexander. As I have said my kin meant you no harm, and you have been paid for your service--- quite well if I might be so bold. Do not sound so nervous. You reek of fear. " The sour stench of man spiked at his words... At least he had made some sort of point he supposed. Passing the mob Galh'dor pondered exactly what his next move was once he arrived... The carriage rolled to a stop, and Galh'dor made his exist, not as swiftly as he'd liked having to wedge himself through the doorway meant for a human. Half cut horns held silver laurels atop a heavy black mane that framed a beastly face. His massive hand brushed away dust from his rather fine stark black coat with silver lace lining the edges. He wore a black and silver kilt of sorts, a heavy silver broach fastened tightly to a thick belt. He carried no weapon... As displeasing as that was. "Many thanks again, Alexander." The beast said reaching into a fine leather sack and flipping a coin to the coachmen who barely caught it. " I expect you near four." He explained. "Please do not make me wait." "A-aye!" Setting his dark forest green cloak right the Korgan waved aside an attendant. " No baggage. " He explained waving a hand slowly. " Tend to the others." Taking a measured pace he began to make his way to the guestbook, The sooner this night was over the better... |
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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 5, 2018 21:01:02 GMT -8
Julane quirks a brow and crosses her arms, though oddly enough her staff does not move from its position, standing straight up as if held by an invisible hand.
"So then, Mister Montcalm, you would allow the chance to speak your grievances to one in an actual position of power to slip between your fingers for...for what, exactly? To make these fine folk lose out on one more hour with their families, at home, in peace? You will get nothing from standing out here in the chill of night tossing insults and shame at those who refuse to hear your pleas. By forcing these men and women to stand out here and shout, you accomplish nothing. Do you wish for change, truly? Are you, perhaps, attempting to provoke the wrath of this so-called tyrannical government to make these people into martyrs for your cause? That plan doesn't seem to be working, as--" she gestures to the guests simply walking past the lines, "--most seem to be simply ignoring you entirely."
The gentle smile returns to her face and she holds her arm out to Francois.
"I offer you the chance once more to walk with me, and let me hear your grievances. We may then bring them to the Empress together, and if she does not listen she will have a top official to contend with as well as your angry mob. Let these folk go home for the night, sit by their fires with their children and their wives, even eat supper instead of immediately falling upon their bedsheets so as to find enough rest for work tomorrow. Hard work that, of course, even a hero of the people such as yourself does not share, giving you more than enough time to join the festivities, even as you enjoy not one moment of it," she continues, her voice losing all its edge in favour of a soft, gentle plea.
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Iulia Iotapa
Committed
Roleplay posts: 75
Age: 31
Physical Description: Iulia is a shorter woman of a trim and very fit build. She has medium-length brown hair, practically styled out of the way in a tight braid. Appearance-wise, Iulia is on the plain side of average.
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Clothes and Equipment: Iulia is never seen without a hat or other head covering of some sort. These tend towards practical and are extremely modest in style. Her usual headgear wardrobe rotates between a maroon beret with a small star insignia, or a black Breton cap. Iulia’s Isran Guard uniform consists of a standard tunic, jacket, crossbelt, and boots, but has a long skirt in place of the regular trousers. When not in uniform, Iulia tends towards long, dark-colored, and well fitted dresses.
As jewelry and other pieces of finery tend to get in the way of the more physical aspects of her work, Iulia tends to go without accessories of any sort when working. Her hands, well worn and scarred from boxing, are covered by gloves whenever appropriate. She possess a weighty and intricate pocket watch, a gift from her father.
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Allegiances: The Isran Empire
Player's online availability : as needed
Registered: Jun 28, 2018 8:07:17 GMT -8
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Post by Iulia Iotapa on Nov 6, 2018 9:14:47 GMT -8
The almost freshly minted Investigator Iulia Iotapa ducks into an alcove after signing the guest book and obtaining her pin. When she is content no one is directly watching her, off comes the hat to attach the shiny pin of the Isran flag to the up-furled brim. Hat returned to her head, Iulia sweeps out from behind a few large pillars and walks past the guest book into the hall proper. Internally, the Investigator smiles in appreciation at how her black long coat flows out behind her, creating a rather savage image of a woman walking with purpose. A pair of black leather riding boots, polished to a shine, create pleasant thumps as Iulia marches forward. Really, it is the little things, like a nice coat, that make life worth living at times. The last purely social event Iulia had attended was the feast in Audria. It was not a surprise that an invitation to this ball had found its way to her new desk at The Square, but Iulia had waited several days to RSVP. She wasn’t apprehensive about going, per se, but feasts and parties often ran contrary to what Iulia would identify as ‘a good time’. Too much boozing and cavorting. The sounds of the massing protest outside the gates cause Iulia to stop and turn around on her heel. This could be far more interesting than making idle chit chat with her fellow partygoers. Underfoot, the stone path leading to the house gives way to soil and grass as Iulia diverts course to approach the wall separating Untyrid Hall from the lane outside. She wound her way through the trees, taking care to walk quietly so she could hear as much of the goings on as possible. The gardens become more and more dense as Iulia approaches the wall. At several points she skirts around thorny brush and some of what had to be the most impressive rose bushes known to Isran. The smell of the gardens was sweet, strangely intense for it being so late in the growing season. Finally, she is near enough the wall to hear the conversation between a woman ( Healer Julane Gael ) and what sounded to be the spokesperson ( Francois Nicolet Montcalm ) for the assembled mob. The Investigator pulls a small notebook out from one of the many pockets inside her coat and begins taking notes on their conversation with a pencil. |
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Galh'dor Suebek The Bloody
Established
Smile and wave...just smile and wave.
Roleplay posts: 18
Age: Near seventy.
Physical Description:
A hulking mass of black fur peppered with grey towers over the average human. Two dark green eyes stare intently at anything before this massive figure, his near hound like maw : upturned as if amused. Two horns erupt from behind his hog like ears.
The beast' arms are like tree trunks , human like hands like those of a dock worker drum thoughtfully on his tower shield.
His voice rumbles like the earth about to split " And what shall we do with you?" he muses, his grin growing larger by the moment
Registered: Nov 5, 2018 11:31:08 GMT -8
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Post by Galh'dor Suebek The Bloody on Nov 6, 2018 10:46:37 GMT -8
Once checked....twice checked... and even a third time "just to be sure" , perhaps it was the growl of irritation that made the guard checking for weapons irritable, maybe he had a pebble in his shoe, but after the guard was satisfied with picking and poking at him Galh'dor moved to the sign in desk.
Taking pen with two fingers he began to sign his name in a rather elegant , but stylized , script. Satisfied with his work he accepted then offered pin, affixing it over his heart ,before moving to the main gathering. He did his best to make his presence small and un-obtrusive moving just quick enough to not lag behind folk, but far to slow for his long legs to be comfortable..
That's when he first smelled it. A warm , gentle aroma.
Magic.
Inhale.
An rather gentle oak scent mingled under the warmth cider, A hint of sage mingled in there.
Protection under something, along with a mute or silence; but to what that something was he could not guess offhandedly.
Inhale
---putrid acidity assaulted his nasal cavity forcing a sneeze.
A right foul curse that. He thought shaking his head in surprise. Serves me right for being nosy. He mused , still curious as to what exactly was laying under the spells. What curse burned like that exactly? Gahl'dor had little talent for magic, as did any other Korgan, but he appreciated it's artistry none the less.
{exist to OPEN-AIR BALLROOM}
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Theophilus J. Carter
New
Roleplay posts: 5
Age: 25
Physical Description: Black hair, Caucasian skin, and hazel eyes.
Clothes and Equipment: A black suit (pockets on the inside) with a cherry red bow tie and white undershirt. A classic satin black top hat tied down to his head with a ribbon. White gloves.
The Black Cane: The cane can become a metal bolt launcher quite simply with no transformation. bolt cartridges have to be attached at the base of the cane. The cane can also reveal a blade composed of razor sharp smaller blades which fit back into the cane when not in use. When in blade mode the handle flips up and splits giving the user's hand some protection.
A silver pocket watch on a chain which (when closed) can reveal several razors which come out of the sides of the watch.
A deck of metal playing cards with sharp edges.
Allegiances: None yet.
Player's online availability : Daily.
Registered: Oct 18, 2018 6:26:45 GMT -8
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Post by Theophilus J. Carter on Nov 6, 2018 13:23:36 GMT -8
Theophilus J. Carter walks into the building, looking around at the splendor of Isra. His clothing is considered classy but it doesn't stand out much. He's wearing a black coat with a crimson lapel, and also black dress pants. A white undershirt and red bow tie completes his clothing. He tips his top hat to the guard as he walks in and signs the register in a cursive flowing font. Her straightens his cane making sure it's on safety, picks up a pin which he attaches to his coat, and enters the ball.
His thoughts are a mixture of curious and frustrated, "Another room full of vipers to have a discussion with. Fun. I mean, cake is nice. Maybe someone will crash this ball and an assassination attempt mayhaps? That would certainly spice things up. Heh. A successor huh? This shall be an interesting thing to see play out, getting such a position is impossible. Making sure other snakes don't get it? Piece of cake."
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