Alden Marshal
Widely Known
Roleplay posts: 1,420
Age: 30
Physical Description: Alden is 6 even, with shoulder length messy black hair, and several days worth of beard stubble. He is handsome, with a powerful jaw, mid set cheek bones, and a perpetual grin that makes him seem younger than he really is. His bright green eyes, constantly sparkle with barely contained mirth. He has the lithe well muscled body of a swordsmen, and he moves with considerable grace and dexterity.
If one where to take more thorough examination of Alden's eyes they may notice a further detail. Around the outside edge of his iris's there's an intricate series of minuscule grey runes.
Alden rarely removes his shirt, but should someone see him with it off, they would find his body to be covered in scar tissue. Starting from just below his neckline, there is very little space that does not sport some relic of a past injury. A particularly observant person may also note that among these scars, some are a bright scarlet. These scarlet scars form an intricate series of runes hiding among the others.
Those of a more magical bent may be able to decipher the runes in his eyes and on his skin. Identifying them as sigils more commonly found on magical items. The most obvious effect of the runes on his body, are increased speed, strength, and durability.
The runes on his eyes give him the ability to detect magical auras and residue, as well as allowing him to see through low level illusions and glamours. They also maintain his vision regardless of the current light level, and even if there is a sudden shift. His eyes are also capable of dropping into the infrared spectrum in complete darkness.
The rune work on his body enhances his natural strength, speed, endurance, durability, and reflexes to almost super human levels. The effects make him a formidable opponent for most magical creatures though only because they are supplemented by exceptional skill.
This means that all though he is almost super human in a straight contest of strength or speed he would most likely loose to most other magically enhanced humanoids such as vampires or were wolves.
Alden's runes also greatly increase his healing rate allowing him to recover from injuries that would normally take a few months for a person to recover from in a few short weeks. Not only do Alden's runes accelerate healing they also enhance it. A normal persons body will repair itself until it is functioning again then stop, thanks to the runes Alden's body will continues to fix itself until it is in near perfect condition. His healing abilities enhance his already prodigious stamina as it repairs muscle damage and lactic build up and it also increases longevity as he does not accumulate long term damage as most people do.
Finally his body runes provide protection from people attempts to find him magically. Detection spells will be obfuscated their readings on his location being off by about 20 meters. Long distance scrying and tracking spells are only able to narrow down his area to somewhere within a mile radius. It should be noted that these protections can be overcome by someone with sufficient power or ingenuity.
His runes cannot be removed unless they are cut off of his body using an appropriate ritual knife and magic. If the runes are disrupted in any other way they will simply grow back in a few weeks time.
The final thing that only someone versed in rune craft and enchanting would be able to tell is this: The process of these runes being carved into his bodies would have been unbelievably painful. A normal person would have been driven insane or to suicide if they had this happen to them. During the carving process un-directed magical energies would begin to take hold and tear apart your soul. The pain this would not cease until the rune pattern was completed. This means the pain caused would be on a spiritual and physical level of incredible magnitude.
Clothes and Equipment: Read this post for equipment update: http://thefantasysandbox.boards.net/post/27933
A re-paired and enchanted grey cloak, leather armor, twin short swords, bag of candy, full water skin, a few days worth of travel rations, enchanted leather boots, and a brace of throwing knives.
Player's online availability : On and off during the day, more active during evenings (EST)
Registered: Oct 30, 2015 14:59:43 GMT -8
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Post by Alden Marshal on Nov 6, 2018 16:29:07 GMT -8
Alden's previous relationships had not included the baggage of an extended family. The sphere of people in his life was limited to only those he knew directly and he'd not realized that sometimes being with a person earned you a whole host of other people that would jump into your life. His introduction to this particular concept occurred quite abruptly. The High Marshal of Isra was not used to being manhandled, in fact, there existed no one in this world who could do so... or so he thought. When Elaine Graves had learned that her daughter was being courted by The High Marshal the woman had practically had a fit. When she learned that this meant that her daughter was formally invited to the ball being hosted by The Empress Elaine had been thrown into a panic. Kauri didn't have any dresses and this would be the first formal event she was attending with her new beaux, everything had to be perfect yet they were not prepared! This is what led to Elaine, Kauri, and a seamstress showing up at Alden's house unannounced and to what was perhaps the most surreal experience of The Marshal's life thus far. Without being asked, without being consulted, without being given a single choice Alden was poked, prodded and measured as two women talked around his head. Kauri had looked equal part horrified and embarrassed as a heated discussion was held over just what he would be wearing. It had taken some time and serious testing of patience for Alden to learn just what was going on. Considering how much he did not enjoy having his agency removed, even for something so simple, this was a true testament to how far he'd come as a person. When the dust finally settled he learned that he was going to the ball, which he'd not been planning on, and that he would be wearing a chocolate and gold outfit when he did so. He agreed to this mainly because it had become apparent to him that despite her horror at her mother's actions, Kauri wanted to go. He was ambivalent about the ball but considering all the work he put into learning how to dance it seemed like a waste not to go if his dance partner was. Besides, it might be a good time. So now he sits next to his date for the evening in a royal carriage. His outfit was a compromise between what he was willing to wear and fashion. A light brown silk tunic with a deep frilled collar held in place by a golden bolo tie. A diamond pattern vest in various shade of chocolate, with golden buttons and embroidery, with his black Marshal's scarf of office wrapped around his waist and pinned with his badge. He was wearing high cream colored socks and a pair of short brown leggings that matched his shoes and the rest of the ensemble nicely. In short, it was a more fancy version of what he normally wore. The carriage pulls to a stop at the front of the villa and Alden lets out a long slow breath. Then turning to Kauri he gives her a warm smile. This was not one of his carefully practiced ones either, there was genuine warmth in it that reached his eyes. "Shall we?" He asks as the carriage door opens and he steps outside, turning to offer her his hand as she descends from the box herself.
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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 6, 2018 16:45:05 GMT -8
The mustached man ignored the standing staff — a rather silly attempt at demonstration of one's power, but for which a few clever people were carefully placed amongst the protestors to point this out rather than letting is sink in subconsciously. "Well Miss, to begin, I don't have a guarantee you will take in the truth in our words. This way I get a wider audience, I don't put my eggs in one basket as the expression goes. Anyway, I'm forcing nobody.
However when it was suggested he was there to provoke her, his face changed quite quickly. Red as a tomato, righteous fury in squinting eyes. However he stopped for a moment, closing his eyes, inhaling, exhaling, and then opening his eyes. "I am a kindly natured man even if I do say so myself, so I will forgive you this instant. However, I will kindly ask you to not suggest such things if you would be so tender. Now then, if guests ignore us, then it is at least another sign to the people that their opinions are uncared for. Making something out of nothing, a great skill!" His eyebrows were still pressed harshly together and his mustache was indignant, but some form of calm was restored. He ignored the bait at the end seeing himself above it. Instead he turned around, and motioned for a few people to walk forward and whispered to all of them a few looking at Julane and then over to the ball proper at intervals.
A minute or so passed, and Francois turned back to the healer with a shrug. "Very well Madam, we can end the pokes and jabs if you please I shall accompany you indeed." A comb materialized in his fingers along with scissors and he momentarily adjusted the fair upon his face and head, then put on a colourful bow-tie. After a moment's though polish appeared in his hands and was applied to his shoes, then gel to his hair. He borrowed the spectacles of another protestor to examine himself and shrugged. "If I had a proper mirror I may have done more but this will do." He stated, giving back the spectacles and coming before Julane. "Ladies first, so it goes." He was somewhat happy however, for even without him most protestors remained and the new of an attempt at intimidation had made more come. The man was glad to know it wasn't just his charisma that kept strong the fight against racism.
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James Lazael Deepwinter
Committed
One of the last sons of the Deepwinter house of old, He is tasked with guarding the family sword.
Roleplay posts: 69
Age: 28
Physical Description: Tall and lean, James is a handsome young man with fair, pale skin, raven hair, and piercing blue eyes. Muscled and scarred from the hard life he has been forced to lead he is willing to face trouble and meet it blow for blow to defend what he has left to call his own.
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Clothes and Equipment: Despite hard times the family has retained some of its wealth and materials. James wears a fine set of clothes, black riding boots, loose grey pants, a dark blue buttoned shirt, black vest, and a dark grey overcoat. A fine cloak hangs from his shoulders, kept in place by a beautiful pin, a ring of blue topaz surrounding a circular piece smoked quartz crystal both set in silver. On his ring is his father’s ring, and his father before him, a beautiful dark iron piece set with one large and four smaller black opals.
At his waist hangs one of his families remaining treasures, Void-dancer, his family’s magical broadsword, once a mighty weapon it’s power is now bound if still present.
On his shoulder hangs his pack and his instrument, a worn but lovingly maintained guitar. Stashed in his pack with traveling gear is a breastplate and various pieces of armor for when the days get grim and the mornings get bloody.
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Allegiances: Negotiable
Player's online availability : Fairly free
Registered: Oct 30, 2018 15:10:14 GMT -8
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Post by James Lazael Deepwinter on Nov 6, 2018 18:52:59 GMT -8
With a quiet repetitive clack a dappled grey mare in black and silver livery trots up to the entrance as its rider inspects the palace. James took a long moment to inspect his surroundings before swinging down from the saddle and handing the reins to the attendant who had approached him along with a gold coin. He took notice of the various other members of society who were arriving and noting who was entering directly and who was doing otherwise. After taking note of the flow around to the side and followed around and signed the guest book, attaching the pin to the front of his jacket. He walked through the doors and took in the crowd with a well hidden look of unease as social gatherings were not quite his comfort zone. James was clothed in fine fair, with a crisp high collard blue jacket trimmed in silver, with loose white pants, polished black riding boots, and a white belt and sash with the guest pin attached bellow the embroidered crest of the Deepwinter household. The outfit was obviously tailored to have a sword hung at the hip and James was obviously uneasy with it's absence as his hand occasionally moved as if to rest on a hilt or pommel.
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Kauri Graves
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 262
Age: 26
Physical Description: Kauri has a complexion so pale that she seems to mimic the glow of the moon. Atop her head stands two long, thin coppery horns that seem unnervingly sharp at their tips.
Her eyes are similar to a cat's with a bright yellow iris and a slit pupil. The fingers on her right hand seem shorter and are fixed with long, sturdy claws most useful for climbing.
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Clothes and Equipment: -----------------------------------------------------------
Kauri's clothes seem somewhat colorful, sometimes scarce and sometimes superfluous depending on the ever-changing weather of her home. They're always slightly decorative, but sewn and forged with purpose.
She wears small amounts of armor, such as braces, breastplates, and greaves, but they're usually very small and are built more for movement than they are for protection.
She is skilled with a bow and sword, both of which she carries with her consistently. None of her weapons are terribly special, but they're sturdy and well made.
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Allegiances: Isra
Registered: Nov 22, 2017 13:22:51 GMT -8
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Post by Kauri Graves on Nov 6, 2018 20:09:47 GMT -8
Kauri's head was whirling from all the commotion the week had brought. Her mother, at first glance, was a kindly, delicate, wonderful grandma figure. Oh, but when she found something she wanted to do... not even the Marshal sought to stop her!
Her heart was beating a mile a minute during the carriage ride. It would be the first time they would be out in public as an item. Kauri had not yet told anyone, though her parents were quick to figure it out, and she really wasn't sure if Alden had let anyone know, either. She really doubted he would flaunt such an idea, though she knew he'd answer truthfully if asked.
Who would be asking, though? The Empress? Perhaps. She would see what kind of looks Naoki gave them as the night went on.
The chimera sucked in a breath and looked up at Alden with a wry smile. "Only because you give me the strength to do so."
The two stepped out of the carriage in matching colors, her dress the same umber shades with golden highlights. It was long in the back, made of heavy cloth, and was cut just above the knee in the front to show off her hooves and fancy, padded horseshoes that made traveling a lot quieter. Clipclopping everywhere, especially at a public event like this, was bound to make her anxious. Her mother had put almost too much thought into it.
Her white hair had been clipped high onto her head in a ponytail laced with ribbons and little glimmering trinkets. Her bangs were braided around her tall, knifelike horns and clipped above her ears, and a sash trailed from her sleeves, joining with her dress in delicate folds. Due to the dark colors of their outfits, she had also been given a rich, brown lipstick that smelled faintly of coffee and chocolate. Kauri had her suspicions but didn't complain.
As they walked, Kauri did her best not to glue herself to the Marshal, as much as she yearned to. It had been such a long time since she'd seen so many people! And she never had been in front of quite so many powerful ones at once, either. Not only that, but she was going to have to lead Alden into conversation, knowing he wasn't the most fantastic one for small talk.
Such trials ahead of her! Wasn't this supposed to be a party?
They went through the weapons check and Kauri took it upon herself to sign their names and fasten both their pins. Doing little things made it feel like she was actually getting ready for what was ahead. "Are you hungry? Would you like to get something to eat first and socialize before we dance?"
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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 6, 2018 20:46:31 GMT -8
"You shouldn't read too much into my staff's willingness to stand still as I guesture with my hands," she assures those within the crowd who attempt to point it out as some misconstrued display of power, "for as most of you know I do not perform offensive magics, ever. My Order is dedicated to life and healing." Then, she returns her attention to Francois, and inwardly smirks as he turns beet red. It's the little rhetorical victories that feel the best, she muses as he composes himself again. "Forgive what, exactly? I am only stating what I see. You cannot hope to actually change the minds of anyone who simply walks past you without responding, and there are few who would have the practiced patience that I do. So, logically, you must be attempting to provoke some act of violence or threat that proves your cause just. The ends, as they say, justify the means? For instance, the men who ran off after those people arrived, completely inoccuously, upon the backs of beasts that would otherwise be dangerous and have just now returned -- why did they leave only to return? Where did the friends they returned with come from, and why did they come? If provoking threats or violence is not your intent, feel free to prove me incorrect," she replies, delivering her words with a calm genuineness.
Then she waits patiently as Montcalm confers among his people, her eyes briefly wandering to admire the forest about the group. When he turns back to face her and delivers his concession, she smiles triumphantly, her staff zipping back into an outstretched hand as her other arm makes a hook about Francois' own. If he's willing, she'll pull him past the gates toward the defending guards and incline her head respectfully to the armoured men. "Grand Healer Julane Gael," she introduces, "and this is my plus-one, Mister Francois Montcalm. My staff is not a weapon, as I do not cast offensive magics." She looks to Francois expectantly, waiting for him to surrender any weaponry.
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Keph
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 227
Age: 18
Physical Description: Standing at 5'2 feet and sporting amazing snow white hair is the one, the only self-proclaimed Master Adventurer: Keph d'Avon. Many question how he'd get such an odd hair color and he isn't quite sure himself. No doubt some oddity related to all the magic in the world, as it surely isn't dyed. While Keph is no doubt a young lad, he looks young even for his age; maybe it's the lack of a beard or that soft, innocent look of his? His demeanor certainly does him no favors in people giving him less years than he's worth.
While Keph has a mostly innocent look that appears to be constantly surprised an enamored with much of what happens around him, it's clear that he's seen some battle. The back of his right hand has a scar that any keen observer would notice to most likely have been made by the swift slice of a blade, the fact that his skin is mostly soft and untarnished makes it only easier to spot this out of the blue. Surprisingly, as innocent and soft as Keph appears he is actually quite athletic and his small size no doubt betrays these physical abilities!
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Clothes and Equipment: A dark brown cloak covers his shoulder, made out of a Platiusm he hunted himself and had an Isran tailor make out of its pelt. The cloak's hood was lined with a variety feathers.
A few spines are still leftover from the prey’s hide, and stick out from his shoulders, the spines, on one side, stab through a glorious shoulder pad made out of an assortment of colourful feathers, stuck onto a thin layer of leather, keeping it all in place. On the other, you have a carved, wooden mask, made by the young man. It has a few more holes than one would expect a mask meant for a human to have, a result of the thin spines having stabbed through it to keep it from ungracefully falling off his shoulder.
Under his cloak, he wears a padded, blue cloth coat, recently extensively repaired, as he refuses to replace this trusty piece of equipment. Not only warm, but fashionable, and provides protection against some cuts. If it's too hot? A white, thin linen shirt is found beneath the coat.
The coat, as nice as it was, was partly hidden under a variety of knick-knacks, bags, and other useful travel equipment:
-A satchel, which hangs from his shoulder and crosses his torso, on the outside of it a few trinkets such as a necklace with a variety of beast teeth and also a bottle of ink, with a quill sticking from its cork;
-The satchel’s belt had been made to function as a bandolier, a set of inky, black… eggs hung from it;
-On top of it all, a finely crafted hunting bow found within a bow holster and a quiver, both crossed in the opposite direction as his satchel, doing its part to conceal his nice clothes beneath his disorganisation.
His legs are kept concealed and warm with a pair of beige linen pants which are kept up by a sturdy leather belt, on them one finds an even larger variety of knick-knacks and tools than his overused satchel - a sword, a dagger, pouches, more trinkets, a small hide pack hanging from the side, and more eggs.
One could only wonder why he needed half of what he kept.
Registered: Mar 7, 2016 20:07:42 GMT -8
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Post by Keph on Nov 6, 2018 21:37:52 GMT -8
Keph had been understandably surprised at having been invited to a formal ball being held by Naoki herself. Had he been that charming that all of a sudden he was now also getting to join in on Royal events? He wasn't a noble birth and most of the time he might easily be confused with a better smelling (and far more fashionable) vagrant, yet as confused as the invitation had left him, he did have a suit he got on the Imperial wallet and they were probably offering free food, so it's not like he could simply turn down the invitation.
Hand-picked by the (obvious) "fashion genius" Raelyn Fletcher and adjusted for his petite frame was a pair of black trousers, a fancy white dress shirt, a black vest with an embroiled hem and silver buttons, which were adorned with sapphires, and of course an ascot tie. As confused as ever, the young man was lead to the guest book which he promptly signed with "Keph" and received a pin, for his troubles... now for that food!
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Amaya Thundra
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 198
Age: 24
Physical Description: She has pale blue hair that is rather jagged and cut short (she cuts her own hair with a knife). Her eyes are a golden color that looks much like lightning ripping across the sky. When her powers are active, it looks like lightning is running through her veins. Her ears are pointed and long. She stands at about 6 foot and her nails are normal unless she is feeling beastly when they can grow into talons. Otherwise, she appears as a normal human. Also... horns.
Clothes and Equipment: It looks as though she is constantly wearing a tattered black cloak, but it is actually her wings folded over her body that are pretty durable against attacks. She wears light armor underneath her wings typically and dresses lightly. Though she is not a fan of dresses and skirts or any clothing that restricts her movement, if it necessary or particularly unique, she can be convinced to wear it. She wields a broad sword in case of emergency but prefers to fight hand to hand.
Allegiances: Edan; To a lesser degree her father, Ixdraynael
Registered: May 31, 2018 19:40:04 GMT -8
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Post by Amaya Thundra on Nov 7, 2018 10:24:07 GMT -8
Characteristic of the autumn months, there was a constant light breeze that chilled the ball goers lightly. It swept about the coloring leaves lightly disturbing them slightly but it was overall pleasant.
The change was notable then when the breeze built to a stiff wind, then nearly a gale, ripping through the trees- ruffling the signs of the protestors, nearly making a few of them drop their signs, rapidly turning the pages of the guest book. On the sudden wind, seemingly from nowhere, appeared a woman gliding along the breeze without seemingly a care in the world, whizzing by until she slowly began to descend at the side entrance.
Amaya sighed softly as her feet gently touched down onto the ground and she smiled as she looked around at the setting she had come across. She didn't think she had ever been to a ball-at least not one thrown by humans on the overworld. When she had heard word of an open attendance ball, she couldn't help but want to attend. If only for a little while. She wasn't familiar with exactly what was meant by 'formal' garb, but she had tried the best she could (she didn't want her father for help with something so simple after all).
From what she could gather, a dress was generally what one wore to these events, though they didn't really suit her form. She had compromised, polishing her armor to a gleam. She wore leggings still but she wore a light blue tunic with silver trimmings, the skirt shorter in the front than it was in the back. She wore heeled boots that reflected the light and gave soft clicks against the stones as she strolled forward, letting her wings sit comfortably on her shoulders looking like a cape. Her hair was ruffled slightly in the wind but bounced along, a silver line of beads braided into her hair.
Despite her intimidating stature and intense entrance, she gave those at the entrance a warm smile and greeting, obligingly signing the guest book and taking the pin. She spoke with them a good while before giving them a little wave and walking into the hall proper, eyes wide and curious and ears open ready to learn about this side of humanity as well.
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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 7, 2018 13:04:47 GMT -8
The pointing out and denial of the staff standing was further pounced upon by the dedicated speakers in the group, pointing out that even if she was incapable of killing with it the act was nevertheless an attempt to display prowess.
When she refused to follow the the conditions that she placed for Francois turned with venom in his glare. "You want me to be civil, but I expect likewise. Responding to provocation is not in and of itself a provocation, what you provide however, is bait. I suppose you have scored a point on me for I responded to it, bravo."
Reluctantly he let himself be lead along, nodding to the guard respectably and handed over his scissors, looking at the surroundings he was about to enter.
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Alden Marshal
Widely Known
Roleplay posts: 1,420
Age: 30
Physical Description: Alden is 6 even, with shoulder length messy black hair, and several days worth of beard stubble. He is handsome, with a powerful jaw, mid set cheek bones, and a perpetual grin that makes him seem younger than he really is. His bright green eyes, constantly sparkle with barely contained mirth. He has the lithe well muscled body of a swordsmen, and he moves with considerable grace and dexterity.
If one where to take more thorough examination of Alden's eyes they may notice a further detail. Around the outside edge of his iris's there's an intricate series of minuscule grey runes.
Alden rarely removes his shirt, but should someone see him with it off, they would find his body to be covered in scar tissue. Starting from just below his neckline, there is very little space that does not sport some relic of a past injury. A particularly observant person may also note that among these scars, some are a bright scarlet. These scarlet scars form an intricate series of runes hiding among the others.
Those of a more magical bent may be able to decipher the runes in his eyes and on his skin. Identifying them as sigils more commonly found on magical items. The most obvious effect of the runes on his body, are increased speed, strength, and durability.
The runes on his eyes give him the ability to detect magical auras and residue, as well as allowing him to see through low level illusions and glamours. They also maintain his vision regardless of the current light level, and even if there is a sudden shift. His eyes are also capable of dropping into the infrared spectrum in complete darkness.
The rune work on his body enhances his natural strength, speed, endurance, durability, and reflexes to almost super human levels. The effects make him a formidable opponent for most magical creatures though only because they are supplemented by exceptional skill.
This means that all though he is almost super human in a straight contest of strength or speed he would most likely loose to most other magically enhanced humanoids such as vampires or were wolves.
Alden's runes also greatly increase his healing rate allowing him to recover from injuries that would normally take a few months for a person to recover from in a few short weeks. Not only do Alden's runes accelerate healing they also enhance it. A normal persons body will repair itself until it is functioning again then stop, thanks to the runes Alden's body will continues to fix itself until it is in near perfect condition. His healing abilities enhance his already prodigious stamina as it repairs muscle damage and lactic build up and it also increases longevity as he does not accumulate long term damage as most people do.
Finally his body runes provide protection from people attempts to find him magically. Detection spells will be obfuscated their readings on his location being off by about 20 meters. Long distance scrying and tracking spells are only able to narrow down his area to somewhere within a mile radius. It should be noted that these protections can be overcome by someone with sufficient power or ingenuity.
His runes cannot be removed unless they are cut off of his body using an appropriate ritual knife and magic. If the runes are disrupted in any other way they will simply grow back in a few weeks time.
The final thing that only someone versed in rune craft and enchanting would be able to tell is this: The process of these runes being carved into his bodies would have been unbelievably painful. A normal person would have been driven insane or to suicide if they had this happen to them. During the carving process un-directed magical energies would begin to take hold and tear apart your soul. The pain this would not cease until the rune pattern was completed. This means the pain caused would be on a spiritual and physical level of incredible magnitude.
Clothes and Equipment: Read this post for equipment update: http://thefantasysandbox.boards.net/post/27933
A re-paired and enchanted grey cloak, leather armor, twin short swords, bag of candy, full water skin, a few days worth of travel rations, enchanted leather boots, and a brace of throwing knives.
Player's online availability : On and off during the day, more active during evenings (EST)
Registered: Oct 30, 2015 14:59:43 GMT -8
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Post by Alden Marshal on Nov 7, 2018 14:15:15 GMT -8
Kauri's head was whirling from all the commotion the week had brought. Her mother, at first glance, was a kindly, delicate, wonderful grandma figure. Oh, but when she found something she wanted to do... not even the Marshal sought to stop her! Her heart was beating a mile a minute during the carriage ride. It would be the first time they would be out in public as an item. Kauri had not yet told anyone, though her parents were quick to figure it out, and she really wasn't sure if Alden had let anyone know, either. She really doubted he would flaunt such an idea, though she knew he'd answer truthfully if asked. Who would be asking, though? The Empress? Perhaps. She would see what kind of looks Naoki gave them as the night went on. The chimera sucked in a breath and looked up at Alden with a wry smile. "Only because you give me the strength to do so." The two stepped out of the carriage in matching colors, her dress the same umber shades with golden highlights. It was long in the back, made of heavy cloth, and was cut just above the knee in the front to show off her hooves and fancy, padded horseshoes that made traveling a lot quieter. Clipclopping everywhere, especially at a public event like this, was bound to make her anxious. Her mother had put almost too much thought into it. Her white hair had been clipped high onto her head in a ponytail laced with ribbons and little glimmering trinkets. Her bangs were braided around her tall, knifelike horns and clipped above her ears, and a sash trailed from her sleeves, joining with her dress in delicate folds. Due to the dark colors of their outfits, she had also been given a rich, brown lipstick that smelled faintly of coffee and chocolate. Kauri had her suspicions but didn't complain. As they walked, Kauri did her best not to glue herself to the Marshal, as much as she yearned to. It had been such a long time since she'd seen so many people! And she never had been in front of quite so many powerful ones at once, either. Not only that, but she was going to have to lead Alden into conversation, knowing he wasn't the most fantastic one for small talk. Such trials ahead of her! Wasn't this supposed to be a party? They went through the weapons check and Kauri took it upon herself to sign their names and fasten both their pins. Doing little things made it feel like she was actually getting ready for what was ahead. "Are you hungry? Would you like to get something to eat first and socialize before we dance?" Kauri had hit the nail right on the head with her assessment. If asked if he was in a relationship he would tell any that inquired that he was courting her. However, he was not going about trumpeting the fact that they were an item and no one had thus far dared ask. Of course, Naoki likely new as the woman was quite observant and had likely anticipated this particular coupling long before it actual solidified from anything more than a passing fancy but that was neither here nor there. Cocking his head slightly when she said he gave her strength he decides to nod instead. It was an expression he knew but he wasn't quite sure what it meant. It wasn't as though he could actually give her strength. The idea that she simply took comfort in his presence didn't occur, although, to an outside observer it was easy to tell why she would. He seemed utterly unruffled and unimpressed with the party. Not that he was looking out with a bored or disdainful expression, he wore the same friendly half-grin he usually wore, but to many, the grin may seem slightly disingenuous. His palms were absent an moisture and he was as steady and calm as a rock in a storm, something solid that Kauri understandably wanted to cling to. "I am not particularly hungry no. But if you'd like to eat and socialize than I have no quarrel with it." In all honesty, he wasn't even sure what one was supposed to do at a ball. The last ball he attended he'd been there to kill someone and had been posing as a server. So attending as a guest was slightly out his area of expertise. From what he knew about them though it was an excuse for the rich and powerful to drink and eat to excess and congratulate each other for being rich and powerful. Seeing that he couldn't get drunk he was not sure if the event had any appeal to him. Looking down at the pin she adds to his lapel he frowns. This, combined with her signing his name made him feel slightly odd. The man who walked without making a sound was not used to having such an obvious mark of his presence left at a location. Also, he didn't know why he needed another pin, his Marshal's badge said he could go anywhere he wanted why did he need another? Turning his attention away from quibbling details he gives Kauri another warm smile. "Lead and I will follow, at least until we start dancing." Another joke from Alden, he was getting better at them.
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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 7, 2018 21:35:34 GMT -8
The healer simply shrugs at the crowd's insistence that it's some sort of power play. They will think what they will regardless of the facts, it seems. A bit disappointing, but unsurprising. She walks with Francois toward the ball once they've both signed the guest book, making small talk about everything from the glorious weather earlier that day to the immaculate decorations surrounding the pathway to the Ball itself. She doesn't seem to be willing to be the first to say something about the topic at hand. However, in short order after greeting a few familiar faces, she steers the protesters' leader toward the hedge maze -- a place many go to be alone, though generally not to speak of politics and philosophy. Still, Julane figures, at least it'll be quieter than the ballroom, and perhaps offer a more proper place for heated discussion than a room full of staunch loyalists.
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Setseg
Established
Princess of the Tamorjin
Roleplay posts: 26
Age: 17
Physical Description: Barely above five feet, Set does not tower, nor does she intimidate. Her face is round with the last bits of baby fat she's yet to grow out of. Though she certainly doesn't miss out on meals, she is only just slim due to some exercise had from horseback riding and training in archery.
Clothes and Equipment: Set wears nothing less than the most extravagant dresses made from fine and expensive cloth and furs.
Allegiances: Tamorjin
Registered: Nov 4, 2018 20:21:02 GMT -8
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Post by Setseg on Nov 7, 2018 23:38:39 GMT -8
The tremble of hooves upon the ground alerted the guards of their arrival long before they were seen. Storming over the path to Untyrid Hall were two horses, one gleaming with pale, golden fur that looked like it had sprouted from sheaves of wheat. It was a strong, handsome animal that galloped so swiftly it nearly flew.
Lagging slightly behind was a shorter, but stockier warhorse dressed in brown. Such an animal could fell more than a few soldiers, perhaps even hold its own in a fight. Rare were the times when it was outmatched in a race, but the other rider had gotten a hell of a headstart.
A great wallop was heard as the first racer skidded to a halt in front of the entryway, hopping down in a fury of colorful silks and furs. Brilliant, vibrant patterns adorned her skirts. The dress was held up by only one sleeve, leaving her other arm bare, save for a multitude of bangles that clinked and clanked as she walked.
Standing in front of the hall was a young girl, no older than her teens, with a bright smile framed by thick, dark hair. She twirled in place, her auburn sash fluttering in the air. She faced the second place racer, poking in her cheeks. "I win! And against one of our most prized warriors. Perhaps we shall see who wins in archery. I might become your bodyguard one of these days, you know, and you will be the princess!"
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Enkhjargal
New
Roleplay posts: 4
Age: 26
Physical Description: -----
Six feet and rippling with well-toned muscle, Enkhjargal personifies a descendant of the Man of the Mountain. Her skin is tanned and tough, weathered from years of hard riding and brutal battles. Her hair is cut to her lower shoulder, gathered into a braid and bundled at the top of her skull.
Clothes and Equipment: -----
Enkhjargal is the bodyguard of the Princess, and she is equipped for the part. Heavy Deel armor covers her body, supplemented by chain.
Her weapons include a spear and sword, as well as a bow & arrows.
Allegiances: Tamorjin
Registered: Nov 6, 2018 19:45:30 GMT -8
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Post by Enkhjargal on Nov 8, 2018 0:11:38 GMT -8
In a flurry of hoofbeats, Enkhjargal pulled her mare to a halt alongside the princess, the beast huffing and snorting in frustration at its loss.
"That's only because I didn't know we were racing until you were halfway here." The woman who dismounted was a mountain of metal and muscle, stepping up next to the princess. Truthfully one might be forgiven for thinking she had been a man from afar. Only if they were very quiet about it, naturally. As the princess went on to describe her feats of riding Enka chuckled, shaking her head.
"If the day comes that I have to wear that dress instead of this armor, An, your job will be protecting everyone else who looks at me funny." she replied good naturedly, although as they approached the other crowds her smile hardened into a grimace of duty. She was, after all, the bodyguard of the Princess of Tamorjin. She could not afford her jesting or friendship making her people seem like grinning fools.
She had been alerted to the necessities of the ball going in, but that did not mean she would be happy about it. Stalking up to the receptionist who would take her weapons she handed over her spear...then her sword. Her bow was next to go, along with the arrows. A few knives hidden in either boot, the two throwing knives in her bracers. The small hatchet she used for cutting down wood to make campfires. She also had a rather sharp trowel she supposed could be embedded in a man's head if the situation called for it. (Supposing was an exaggeration, she was very certain and had barely had time to clean it before getting here.)
"Lose this spear and I will be forced to fashion a new one from your spine." she warned the young man who paled and nodded quickly. At last the bodyguard returned to her Princesses side, going to the book and signing the two of them in. She wasn't sure what was custom here, but it seemed like it might expedite an already cumbersome procedure. Once finished she looked to An once again.
"Princess Altansetseg, I am ready to follow wherever you step." she declared dutifully.
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Tris Argyris
Established
Roleplay posts: 11
Age: 24
Physical Description: ==========
While he is the son of a human and a wayward chaotic Faeling, Tris seems to have gotten the best traits of both worlds. From his human father, he's inherited a chiseled and comely face. From his Fae mother, he's inherited an innate affinity for enchantment magics, gleaming fiery orange eyes, and the long, pointed pair of horns that adorn his crown. While he is not a tall man -- only average, at a height of around 175 centimeters -- he bears himself with an air of confidence and pride. His shoulder-length mane of long, wavy black hair is well-kept, and his intense eyes glow with magical power. Each of his slim digits end in long, elegant claw-like nails, the keratin strangely tinged a natural iridescent black. His body is slim, yet athletic, possessing little raw strength but well-trained enough to make a quick escape.
==========
Clothes and Equipment: Tris, pragmatist that he is, never wears clothing that is constrictive for the sake of fashion unless absolutely necessary. His most well-worn outfit is a heavy enchanted blastproof leather longcoat that clinks with phials and beakers as he walks over a light Drider-silk tunic, a simple, billowy pair of breathable yet fire-retardant Drider-silk trousers, and a pair of steel-toed boots over a set of enchanted light banded armour shinguards. A bandoiler generally stretches across his torso from right shoulder to left hip, several various alchemical ingredients slid into the small leather bands that line the strap. Upon his back, he often wears a large, custom-made pack with runes inscribed up and down its entire surface, clanking and clicking as the oddities within shift against one another. It's capped by a huge mixing flask beside a small makeshift mortar and pestle, used for crafting concoctions on the fly. Beneath the folds of his jacket a slim, Summer Fae blade is kept hidden, about the length of a dirk yet only one edge is sharpened, the other pounded flat to give it a slight curve. It is searing hot to the touch and yet seems not to burn its wielder, despite its close proximity to his flesh. Up and down its shining greenish blade cryptic runes are inscribed, although they can only be read when the blade is held to flame.
When he is going incognito, he wears a heavy black blastproof leather cloak, its flesh carved with otherwise invisible runes that glow like the sun when struck with great physical force or blasted with extreme heat. It's wide enough to cover his figure and his pack, and its hood is great enough to conceal his horns. Several enchantments upon the garment silence the clinking of bottles within, as well, making him a much less conspicuous figure
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Allegiances: Isran Revolutionary Army
Registered: Oct 31, 2018 21:35:11 GMT -8
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Post by Tris Argyris on Nov 8, 2018 21:53:22 GMT -8
A man arrives quite a bit later after most of the patrons, apparently the only one to have walked all the way to Untyrid Hall from Isra proper, a pair of heavy black dragonhide boots clicking upon the flagstone. He pulls down the hood of his shimmering iridescent black wyvernscale cloak to reveal a pair of softly luminous fiery orange eyes and two long, pointy horns that protrude from his forehead. His cloak shifts in the wind occasionally to reveal a matching wyvernscale tabbard over a long-sleeved ruffled white Ungol silk shirt. A pair of soft, loose-fitting black trousers cover his legs, held up by a brown leather belt with a gleaming silver buckle.
The man fingers the silver crescent moon pendant about his neck a touch nervously, his glowing eyes flitting back and forth as he stands before the gate, his lips turned down into a slight frown. He wonders, for a moment, whether it was wise to come here, or whether it would be wise to go further. It's unlikely that any would identify him as the Midnight Sun bomber -- even the horns and long, black claw-like nails aren't particularly against the norm in a city like Isra -- and so he's likely just being paranoid. This would be a perfect opportunity to gauge the strength of the Empress' closest cohorts, and even the Empress herself. It might even be fun! He definitely shouldn't be worrying about it.
But what if?
He pushes the trepidation from his mind and steps past the threshold into the entryway, walking up the stone path to where the guestbook lie between two guards. He feels naked before them without his pack and belt and bandoilers brimming with explosive alchemical solutions, and his chest feels cold and bare without the heat of his Fae-forged sun-blade pressed snugly against it. Still, it's for the best; if the guards search him they'll find nothing more dangerous than the sharp pin of his wolf's-head brooch. He signs the guest book in a swooping, elegant font: Trismegistus Argyris. Perhaps using his real name is unwise, but it's not as if anyone of import knows him. Yet.
He recieves the Isran flag pin and gives one of the guards a polite smile, before straightening his posture and marching straight toward the Ballroom's entrance, putting on an air of confidence and grace despite the pounding of his heart within his chest. Into the Lion's Den he goes...
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Lamina Manira
Main Character
Roleplay posts: 504
Age: 14
Physical Description: Complexion: Fair.
Build: Petite
Eyes: Emerald green.
Hair: Dark brown, just past shoulder length, choppy with a small sidelong left tie of hair, similar to ponytail or topknot, tied from the left side of her head.
Distinguishable markings: Horizontal scar, left shoulder.
Clothes and Equipment: - Knee-length, sleeveless black dress of a slightly thick, padded fabric.
- Black leggings for lightweight and modest cover.
- Leather belts around waist and chest for tying clothing and hoisting weaponry.
- Black leather boots that guard just past the ankles and protected at the toe by exterior metallic steel plating.
- Varied colored bangles of metal, 3 on the right forearm and 4 on the left.
- Long red ribbon tied around left elbow to hang freely. Has sentimental value.
- Thread of assorted beads that tie hair. Has sentimental value.
- Red feather worn with tied hair. Has sentimental value.
- Sometimes a mortuary sword, sheathed at her left hip.
Player's online availability : Usually evenings.
Registered: Apr 30, 2015 7:48:47 GMT -8
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Post by Lamina Manira on Nov 9, 2018 10:19:39 GMT -8
The general wear and tear on her usual pink dress had now reduced it to daily garb and left it unsuitable for formal appearances, and she had received the invitation to a ball taking place at Untyrid Hall. While she wasn't well accustomed to such high class gatherings, she managed to get herself prepared. It took some time shopping for something nice to wear that was both her size and not too unorthodox or restricting, but she settled on a nice dress for the occasion, forgoing the usual red feather in her hair for a burgundy flower instead. Having left her weapons at home, Lamina arrived with a group of fellow travelers that she briefly came to know over a little conversation and recollection of her coliseum stories. She rode comfortably sidesaddle on her horse before dismounting, and approached the entryway. "Hello," she tried to say formally to the person in charge of checking in guests, introducing herself to receive her pin. "Lamina Manira. Oh, thank you. So I sign the guestbook here?" After signing in and gaining her Isra pin, however, she told the man she would return shortly, and instead of entering, she walked back on foot down the path, and towards the protesters. While she pretended not to notice when passing on horseback, she now wanted more details. "Excuse me... what is this all about?"
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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 9, 2018 16:21:19 GMT -8
With Francois gone it was a moment or two before a dedicated speaker for this particular individual was appointed. After some quick murmurs a middle-aged woman in neat semi-formal apparel and spectacles upon her nose steps forth, looking somewhat indignant. "Surely you have read the requirements for entry to the ball? We are protesting the discriminatory nature of this ball and the attendees who go inside being bystanders or complicit actors of racism. Gnomes are a fine folk, now they won't feel welcome here and we shall lose much intellectual capital!"
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Lamina Manira
Main Character
Roleplay posts: 504
Age: 14
Physical Description: Complexion: Fair.
Build: Petite
Eyes: Emerald green.
Hair: Dark brown, just past shoulder length, choppy with a small sidelong left tie of hair, similar to ponytail or topknot, tied from the left side of her head.
Distinguishable markings: Horizontal scar, left shoulder.
Clothes and Equipment: - Knee-length, sleeveless black dress of a slightly thick, padded fabric.
- Black leggings for lightweight and modest cover.
- Leather belts around waist and chest for tying clothing and hoisting weaponry.
- Black leather boots that guard just past the ankles and protected at the toe by exterior metallic steel plating.
- Varied colored bangles of metal, 3 on the right forearm and 4 on the left.
- Long red ribbon tied around left elbow to hang freely. Has sentimental value.
- Thread of assorted beads that tie hair. Has sentimental value.
- Red feather worn with tied hair. Has sentimental value.
- Sometimes a mortuary sword, sheathed at her left hip.
Player's online availability : Usually evenings.
Registered: Apr 30, 2015 7:48:47 GMT -8
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Post by Lamina Manira on Nov 9, 2018 18:40:39 GMT -8
She never did read the requirements, having been more or less hastily invited. She looked slightly surprised at the accusation, but with so many people mobilized, surely something was wrong. Just why would they discriminate against gnomes? "But... gnomes are people too... that's horrible! Just how can this be stopped??"
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Selene
Committed
Roleplay posts: 87
Age: Unknown
Physical Description: Selene has a curvaceous figure with porcelain skin, and starlight silver locks. Her eyes gleam lavender, as she prefers to dress in shades of blue, purple, silver or black.
Clothes and Equipment: Selene wears a variety of blue, purple black and silver dresses, preferring cool colors. She has an enchanted sapphire around her neck, protecting her from harmful toxins, enchantments or curses.
Registered: Jul 21, 2018 18:57:24 GMT -8
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Post by Selene on Nov 9, 2018 19:07:45 GMT -8
Selene sat in the midnight blue carriage, diamonds arranged in such a manner as to resemble the night sky. She smiled at the shimmering mirror across from her, as she fixed her hair. Her eyes gazed at the hidden lines within the mirror, her pearly whites teeth glistening against her red lips. Today she would not accept defeat. Selene opened the door to her carriage, braided silver hair catching the light. It was styled in the fashion of a blooming rose, with a shimmering shine to it. Adorning the elaborate hair was a headband of obsidian shaded fur, puffing around her skull. From the base of her neck to her breasts her ebony fur coat covered, the sleeves and bodice of the coat revealing itself to be leather. Her sleeves were lined with puffed rabbit pelt, her cuffs appearing as spheres. She glided to the guard station, her legs obscured by tight leather leggings and a skirt trailing from her hips, like a cape, to the back of her body. She accepted the pin, suspending it in her headband, as she neatly signed her name.
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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 12, 2018 18:04:33 GMT -8
The woman grinned apparently having gotten to someone with relative easy. "Well, there's numerous ways to stop this. This protest is but the beginning. Many people are discussing a general strike, boycott of government produced goods and those produced by the attendees of this event. Our actions must be peaceful my lass, but we must resist this evil. You were going to the ball yourself, yes? Well dear, if you could change opinions of folk that would be wonderful!"
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Jirk
New
Roleplay posts: 4
Physical Description: Jirk has a small rounded face with little beady eyes and a cheeky grin that's hard to wipe off his face. His hair is blond and shoulder long and he has brown eyebrows.
Clothes and Equipment: Jirk weark a green striped pants and a flowing red mantel with elaborate patterns that covers a white tunic. His alpaca is similarly well fitted with satchels, a neck scarf and colorful additions to the rains and and such. He always has his silver flute somewhere nearby.
Allegiances: Upstanding Citizen's Brigade
Registered: Nov 1, 2018 23:14:40 GMT -8
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Post by Jirk on Nov 13, 2018 8:12:45 GMT -8
Prancing along on his alpaca Jirk nodded his head from side to side while playing a little tune full of mirth and joy as he suddenly stopped in his tracks and took the flute from his lips in pure surprise. "Oooh, have you seen that, Paco? They are doing a party for gnomes!" he said with eyes wide open as his grin widened to show his little teeth while his alpaca nodded and let out a loud screeching sound as if it agreed with Jirk. "Come on Paco, we need to go there and spread some fuuun!" Jirk said enthusiastically as the alpaca grunted and leaped ahead with Jirk laughing on the back. "Not sooo faaaast, Paco! I can't accompany my entrance with a nice tune like thiiis!" he said and laughed as he walked up to Francois Nicolet Montcalm before the alpaca gave him a small shove in the back and Jirk played a brief jingle like tune laughing with his high pitched monotone voice. "Are you throwing a paaaarty here mister?" he asked and casually emptied the saliva in his flute on the ground not long from Francois' shoes. "Maaan you look really dull. Why do you throw such a DULL ASS party?" Jirk asked his tone of voice suddenly switching rather dramatically not liking what he saw at all. Too many serious looking people and too little cheer. He could and WOULD change this if required. "Also I don't see that damn Qelci anywhere, I figured she would be like all these downbeat people..." he said to himself and scratched his head.
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Alda
New
Roleplay posts: 6
Age: Really doesn't matter at this point. Maturity wise young.
Physical Description: Thin and gangly, with white, pale skin. Hair is dyed light pink to cover up the white hair.
Clothes and Equipment: -Dress clothes
*A long neon pink dress, with tons of glitter attached, lots of flowers have been added as well.
*She has a nice little pink hat on like the picture.
*She has a venetian mask with a lot of glitter on it, that covers up her face completely.
Allegiances: None, yet.
Player's online availability : Daily.
Registered: Dec 6, 2018 22:45:24 GMT -8
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Post by Alda on Dec 6, 2018 23:33:39 GMT -8
A thin figure walks in very late, the female brushes her dress, and walks in. She smiles beneath her Venetian mask, and waves to the guards, showing her wrinkled invitation, "Sorry I'm late! I couldn't get here fast enough..."
She attaches the Isra flag pin to her hat, and smiles under her mask, "I hope I can keep this, it really does fit."
She then marches into the building.
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