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 7, 2018 20:20:07 GMT -8
Traveling as far as they did, even with the planned stops and being royalty, one cannot factor in everything. The one being how long it would take to get to Isra from Velmerys by carriage and boat, in the fall. Cold, miserable, and enough to eat. But, the Queen of Velmerys did not like to settle for a planned meal a day, and she was hungry. Even though the much older Sinipius is her escort, she very much led the way, high heels clicking as the much tinier platinum-haired lady led the battle-hardened mage through the crowd of peoples in Untyrid.
It was logical to assume that the dining hall held the food, as it was where the guests were dining. Belestrasza is on the shorter side, compared to the guests, and simply weaving about the people was enough for her. Along the way, her escort, the old man, had somehow lost her arm, making him lose the queen in the process. It wasn't until a few minutes later that the Queen had noticed this, where she quickly turned around to see that, indeed, her companion was lost. Backpedaling and turning about at the same time, her frail shoulder came into contact with a castle wall.
Her eyes snapped to who she collided with. A rather large gentleman, it appeared. His skin looked pallid, and she was slightly concerned about the start of a plague. "I am terribly sorry, sir." Belestrasza swiped away some imaginative dust from where she had run into the man.
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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 7, 2018 20:53:23 GMT -8
For a moment, Lord Volkh glared at Deepwinter, gauging him. The man had the look of nobility, but air of a would-be "hero." He was a good vintage, the lord was certain, although quickly pushed the thought away. He must behave, for now. He was no longer in his own territory. Even so, to be called a paltry "sir"!
"I am Lord Mykola Volkh." the vampire announced, glancing down at his apprentice as she so eagerly offered herself as company. "You forget yourself, apprentice. Do you not remember what your doll said? You introduce yourself before conducting any business." He placed a cold hand upon her bare shoulder, gazing at James knowingly. "This is my apprentice, Natasa Waltine." he informed the man, although when Natasa cast her gaze pleadingly to him he felt a trifling collision into him. Blinking, he turned slowly to face the creature which had impacted him, a ravishing thing that called him "sir" for the second time tonight.
He turned his eyes back to Natasa and gave a shallow nod. She could have her way, for now. Turning forward once again, he could almost feel the effects of his aura creeping across the room. She was a tempting target, it had been many decades since he'd considered a vintage- a countenance -such as this.
"It is no trouble at all." he told her, his voice smooth and self-assured. crimson eyes zeroing in on her own. There was a certain electricity there that he could not dispel. Not something so paltry as romance or lust, but rather...an expectation. From her demeanor, he could tell he was in for a treat.
"Allow me to introduce myself. I am Mykola Volkh, Lord of Castle Volkh."
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Grandma
Widely Known
Imperial Vizier of Isra
Roleplay posts: 1,017
Age: 90
Physical Description: ---------------------------------------------------------
An elderly and frail looking woman with white wispy hair. However, despite being old, her back is not bent by age nor are her eyes clouded by it.
Clothes and Equipment: ---------------------------------------------------------
She wears a deep purple robe that has sleeves that extend far beyond her hands. Her hands are covered with fine gloves of black silk and she wears one ring on each, one having a purple stone set in it and the other a piece of onyx. Carrying an ornate cane of orellium, Grandma can use it to increase her magical channeling as well as assist in deflecting others spells with it. The cane itself is black and covered in numerous ornate, but tiny runes. The cap on the cane is a purplish colored gem. On her wrist is a silver bracelet with a ruby in it that Grandma uses for telepathic communication with others in its network.
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Registered: Sept 12, 2015 8:27:42 GMT -8
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Post by Grandma on Nov 7, 2018 22:45:32 GMT -8
Offering a sympathetic nod to Elizabeth, Grandma offered her own similar opinion on the subject.
“I’m sure it must be troublesome for those used to the military’s way of doing things to be thrust into politics and discovering all the rules they play by having been changed. Still, if he’s been well trained for the battlefield that’s what truly matters at the end of the day. Political bickering is bound to happen, but it must never be allowed to interfere with Isra’s safety.”
Turning her attention back to Lord Waldemar, Grandma looked on with interest as he struck a match to his roll-up of what she assumed to be herbs of some variety. It almost made her wish she’d brought her pipe with her. Her thoughts on whether or not she should have brought a pipe or not were abruptly interrupted by the clash of plates, causing Grandma to turn her attention over to the commotion.
“I’ve never had much trouble with vampires myself, but I could understand your dislike of them if in Audria there are feral ones on the prowl. Much like humans and all races for that matter, they come in different varieties, but the bad variety of vampire… Well, it’s certainly more terrible than the average human mugger or cutpurse, that’s for certain. I did hear something about a protest, and on that topic, I fully agree with you. This Ball is neither the time nor place for a protest of that nature. If they wish to let their complaints be known, they should do so at the gates of the Citadel, not here.”
Despite continuing her conversation with those at her table, no small amount of Grandma’s attention was now being focused on the vampire and the rather curious looking girl who appeared to be here in attendance with him. Surreptitiously, Grandma gave the occasional glance over to the pair, attempting to hear what exactly each of their conversations was about.
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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 8, 2018 14:59:26 GMT -8
James’s eyebrows slowly raised during Lord Vohlk’s little speech, watching him for a few moments after he departed. Once he was well out of range he scanned the crowd with a quirked eyebrow.
“Well isn’t he just a charming fellow, gives me all sorts of feelings in uncomfortable places.” James drawled more then slightly sarcastically before turning back to Natasa and visibly relaxing. “I would love some company dear lady, and I have a feeling the ensuing conversation will be more then enjoyable. Now shall we find a- oh. Excuse me. Thank you.” He was continuing when he interrupted himself to accept a replacement plate of what looked like a plate of high class carnivore special from an attendant before passing the woman a gold coin masked by a silver.
“As I was saying, shall we find a table Miss Waltine?” He finished with a mischievous smirk.
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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 8, 2018 15:30:18 GMT -8
[Post addresses: James Lazael Deepwinter] [Post Mentions: Lord Mykola Volkh]
The man's remark pulled a giggle out of the young woman. She slapped a hand onto her mouth to stifle it, but she knew how good Volkh's hearing was. Casting a worried glance at the vampire, she found his focus was... elsewhere, it seemed. She narrowed her eyes at the pale, flaxen-haired woman, then with a pinched brow at Volkh.
Oh, he had a type, didn't he?
When she turned back to face James, her expression lifted into a pleasant smile again. At least he would be leaving them alone for a moment! And this man didn't seem irritated with her in the least. What a relief.
"W... we shall!" she replied, attempting to lead them to a table that would give them a good view of the rest of the party, but lead them a reasonable distance away from her shadow. Once there, she placed a hand under her skirts and sat carefully into a seat. Once the kind stranger also took a seat, she began speaking.
"I really want to apologize for that earlier. He's just... looking out for me, is all. I'm not accustomed to this kind of lifestyle," she told him. "Might you be noble? You handled yourself rather well."
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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 8, 2018 16:36:20 GMT -8
James arranged his face into the best look of aristocratic disdain, looking down at her as his back stiffened into perfect posture.
“You dare question my station you miserable low brow wretch. Why my father shall be hearing of this I assure you.” He said in a dry mocking tone as he held the beat for a second before the act cracked and he slouched back into his usual casual posture with a roll of his eyes and an easy smile, a low chuckle escaping as he winked at her. “Yes, I am technically nobility, but not my much these days. Once my family had power and prestige, but personally I don’t miss something I’ve never experienced and I don’t want too. The simple life for me.” He continued with a cheerful conversational tone. “Truth be told I don’t know why I’m here. It isn’t what I’d consider my area of expertise.”
He took a few moments to eat some of the food on his plate and almost groaned. It was delicious. All the troublenof dressing up was more then worth it for this. “I take it back. I’m here for the food.” He mumbled around a near finished mouthful before tucking in in Ernest.
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Elizabeth Finch
Main Character
Roleplay posts: 512
Age: 29
Physical Description: Elizabeth, or Liz, stands at about 5'9", weighing in at about 160lbs, most of it muscle from years of riding and fighting. She has platinum blonde hair, usually tied in a ponytail to fit inside her helmet. Her eyes are a vibrant shade of green that contrasts well with her tanned skin. She would be considered attractive if she ever removed her armor, otherwise her face is the only indication that underneath the iron discipline and plate armor is an attractive woman.
Clothes and Equipment: Liz wears a normal looking set of plate armor that is custom fitted for her specifically, and does not hide her gender. She wields a lance when mounted. Javelins are carried in her mounts saddle. Her mount is a young Griffin by the name of St. George, he is full grown in height, but does not yet have the full mass of a adult griffin. She wears plain clothes when not in armor and her shield bears the symbol of the Dawn Riders on it, and her breastplate bears the symbol of Isra on it. She wears a small necklace with a purple gemstone on it underneath her breastplate, only visible when she she is unarmored. Her sword has the insignia of the midnight sun engraved in the hilt, as it is relatively out of sight and does not violate the military dress code. Her primary weapon is her sword, an ancient Elven artifact passed down by her bloodline. It is wreathed in green lightning when unsheathed and wielded by her, and she has a sunmetal shield that complements it with magical abilities of its own.
Player's online availability : Weekends/Nights EST
Registered: Apr 6, 2016 12:16:13 GMT -8
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Post by Elizabeth Finch on Nov 8, 2018 17:33:28 GMT -8
"Toughest fights I ever had were fiduciary in nature. On the topic of vampires, however, I must confess to not being overly knowledgeable. The monsters my Riders and I hunted were much larger, and often Winged. Shame we made treaties, there was one blue bastard in particular I would have loved to have seen at the end of my lance." Liz said, a bit fiercer than she intended.
She continued to listen intently, fork hovering above her plate for a moment before darting to spear a meatball, which she quickly devoured.
"Its been a while since I have been in the City proper, why are the gnomes protesting?"
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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 8, 2018 17:44:37 GMT -8
Belestrasza was stuck with keeping her chin upwards, it was simply how she could look into eyes when they were so close. All she found were red eyes glaring back at her. It was unsettling, at first, until she saw the fangs. She came to the conclusion that she was face to face with a vampire, and a noble one, at that. Quelling the instinctual aspect of stepping back and running off, she didn't want to make too much of a scene in a foreign land.
Curtsying, Bel dipped her head, "A pleasure to meet you, Lord Volkh. I am Belestrasza Velmerys, Queen of the Velmerys Empire." It was hard not to look, or sound, smug when saying you're the ruler of a place, especially of an empire. Granted, it has fallen on hard times. But, she would not be dismayed. Tucking a stray hair behind her ear, her eyes flicked over Volkh, before coming to settle on his eyes again. "Say, Lord Volkh, what brings you to the festivities?"
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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 8, 2018 17:48:23 GMT -8
Utter and complete shock painted itself across Natasa's face upon hearing the man's words. The flames pouring from her mortal wound flared as her heart quickened. She began to rise from her seat as her expression fell, about to excuse herself-
-only to plop right back down once she realized it was a farce. She clapped her hand over her breast, snuffing out the flames. "A noble, but such a rascal!" she breathed with a laugh. "It felt like I had a knife through my heart for a moment!" Her hand came up to her mouth, then, realizing what she'd said. Well... it wasn't serious. They were fine.
She also took a few bites, using the utensils as her handmaiden had taught her. Like with everything, she was a little clumsy, but after a month she was at least competent with table manners.
"I'd feel spoiled to say this is commonly the type of food Lord Volkh has allowed me to eat, but it is quite tasty. You said you're also not used to this, but that's hard to imagine. Did your family... did something happen to them?"
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Lord Waldemar Andreas
Established
Roleplay posts: 38
Age: Middle aged.
Physical Description: Particularly tall at just about seven feet he has wide shoulders and a generally powerful frame of clear patrician nature that makes those who set eyes upon him instinctively feel subservience and want to bend the knee. His hair is a faintly aged silver, his skin a weathered beige and eyes marine. He has a quite well maintained set of whiskers, and a relatively aquiline face.
Clothes and Equipment: Assorted nobleman's trappings. Master-crafted plate, Knightly robes. He carries with him a large one-and-a-half handed sword.
Registered: Feb 1, 2018 17:59:26 GMT -8
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Post by Lord Waldemar Andreas on Nov 8, 2018 17:55:14 GMT -8
As Grandma spoke on the matter of people entering politics from a military life to Elizabeth he nodded in concurrence, brushing some ash off of his roll-up. "Military is supposed to serve civilians, but civilians aren't supposed to damn well make it hard for soldiers to do their job.
He listened to the latter words of Grandma with his chin upon a plated hand, his other hand holding his smoke and occasionally moving it for a puff and to brush off ash. Grandma's words did bring a slight amount of confusion to him. "What's a feral vampire? I only know a vampire as a vampire, whenever I came upon one they were all feral bastards and died the way they lived; violently. Doesn't matter if they live in a castle or a swamp or a mountain or hidden in a village of their victims, they're all vile creatures that will be flattened by the wheel of time, sooner rather than later." He said, pointing his roll-up to the vampire and then to his plus one. "And of course, they've always got some nasty business like that creature with them. It's already preying on some poor bastard wearing a dress to try play at being a person — there, see?" he said, pointing out the man the lass went with as he spat in the ash-tray. "'Course it might be bound, rituals and all that business. I remember having one for a while, was right helpful in catching when someone was about to use some unholy business on you."
Again he cleared some ash, before continuing on about the protestors. "I'll be damned if I know why, some rubbish about tolerance and the buggers not being let in here. Right kind it is to let them be of your government, back home we'd have them hanging by their feet in public for an hour or two so they can think about not being annoying little shites again. If gnomes don't like the rules they can try to not be such smelly little buggers, try doing some work in public, make an image for themselves. Besides, if they don't like it they're free to damn well leave!"
Stifling his annoyance momentarily, he pointed to the arrived Queen Belestrasza. "Either of you know who that is?"
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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 8, 2018 18:26:42 GMT -8
For a moment, the Queen before him was blotted out by overheard conversation. Natasa's heartrate increased and the vampire half-turned. He was eager to reacquaint himself with sir Deepwinter. His eyes blacked out for only a moment, until the revelation of a jest became apparent. Settling down, his eyes resumed their color once more, catching the Queen's introduction. My, my, of all the people he was expecting to meet here he did not anticipate royalty of another country. Crossing an arm over his chest, the Lord gave a slight bow, holding his mantle out slightly behind him as was customary.
"I'm quite honored to meet you, Your Majesty." he told her cooly. Her next question caused a smile to tug at his pallid lips. "A few things. I am primarily here to aid my apprentice. She desired a bit of air, and I thought where better than the Empress' ball itself?" he nodded at Natasa across the way, sitting with the clean-limbed young Deepwinter.
"I also came for a few reasons of my own. I have not seen Isra personally, as of yet. I haven't been out in a few centuries. Incidentally, I would love to hear more of your own kingdom, Your Majesty. For who better to extol its virtues than its beating heart?
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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.
———-
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 8, 2018 18:34:04 GMT -8
His smile slowly faded from his face, replaced by a solemn contemplating gaze that seemingly ended somewhere in the distance. His hand twitched towards his belt again as if to settle on the pommel of Void-dancer only to find it absent again.
"Yes, something happened to my family, though it was so long ago no-one who was involved is alive to remember exactly what. Once we were a great family, with wealth and power, fame and stature, supposedly renowned for our great works of magic and metal, enchanters and magi and warriors." He said quietly, his voice taking on the cadence of repeated litany. "We hunted the undead and the forsaken, practitioners of the darkest arts. There was an old family saying: Those who run from death, stood still in life. They laugh and scream, dance and flee, racing from us only to find us sooner. They know we come yet are never prepared, always fleeing from the ferryman's final taxation. It was probably one of those beings who near ended our line, but who can say. Where once there are many, now there are few. I am one of the last in fact." He said with a hollow chuckle.
He picked up a crystal goblet and inspected it before murmuring a quiet word. A rune on one of the knuckles of his glove flared briefly and the glass was coated in a fine frost. "One of the last sons of Deepwinter. Like Ice in deepest winter we endure, yet come the spring even the eternal frosts must melt." He murmured with a sad smile as he blew on the glass and the frost melted away like fog in the first rays of dawn.
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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 8, 2018 19:47:38 GMT -8
As James spoke, Natasa found herself enraptured by his words. It didn't sound like words drawn from the mind; rather, it was like he was reading from a book. It was the same way Divyna read from the old tomes back at the castle, but his flowed differently. They held a conviction that hers lacked. Listening to him speak sparked a tiny warmness inside her, though she didn't realize it at the time.
Something did come to her attention. They hunted a very specific kind of people. She wondered if she fell under that category.
"Sir Deepwinter," she began, locking eyes with him. Her hands clasped onto the table, moving her plate aside. "I'm not sure what I can say. Losing your family, and so much of their legacy... that's awful. But if I'm not wrong, you want to rebuild that." Her stare became a little more intense, widening with a bit of worry mixed in.
"Will you continue to hunt the forsaken, as you put it?"
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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.
———-
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.
————
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 8, 2018 20:08:30 GMT -8
James let out a long breath, his brows furrowing as he considered her question, his eyes flicking away from her gaze. What did he want out of life? Did he even know the answer?
"I... Don't rightly know Lady Waltine. My family is scattered, our lands mostly abandoned to rot and crumble, our vassals were as hunted and persecuted as we ourselves were and few remain, what artifacts we still hold are bound with powerful magic seals and reflect hardly a flicker of their former glory. But even if they weren't, I'm no zealot. I don't see as many whites and blacks as I'd wish too. Grey is the order of the day more often then not." He raised his hand and murmured another quiet word and drew a few glowing arcane sigils in the air before obliterating them with a swipe of his hand. "I offer my skills to those in need. There is plenty of work for an idealist these days, and darker forces never rest." He let out a grim chuckle. "What's the old saying? We have to win every brawl, skirmish, battle, and war. The others? They only need to win one to get a foothold in our world."
He slid across the aisle and snagged a bottle of wine forsaken by other party goers. Pouring himself a glass he swirled it as he gained that far off look again. As he took a long drink he considered the things he'd done. The things he'd seen. The old dwarven empire who's ruins he'd dug through for old trinkets and tools of his trades. A slight snarl curling his lip as he remembered the dens of acolytes and necromancer's he'd ended in blood and hate and magical steel. What he had said wasn't quite true. He'd seen the blackest of filth, the darkest of grays, hells he'd been the darkest of grays, but it was the white of true untouched purity and goodness that was so seldom seen in these dark times.
"People like me, our lot is to lay down our lives in defense of others, but only if there is no other way. Better to retreat and live to fight another day then die a useless death. The price for peace may be an ocean of blood, but we do our best to make sure that our enemies pay the lion share of that tax. We seek our lives in a spirit of furious indifference to it; we must desire life like water and yet drink death like wine." He finished bitterly, meeting her gaze with the eyes of a young man who'd seen too much, was tired and cynical and world weary, but at his core burned a fire bright as heaven's light and stronger then mithril. "So maybe I will one day take up my families mantle, and on that day I'm sure that the people who've pushed me to that point will regret the evil deeds they've done to provoke the response."
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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.
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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 22:06:04 GMT -8
Tris strides into the Dining Hall with purpose. Shortly upon reaching the ballroom he'd realised that he hadn't anything to eat for the last two days, worried as he's been. And so, he decides he'll treat himself to some of the fine food the Empress has so generously provided. He glimpses a familiar face out of the corner of his eye -- the very familiar face with whom he's currently lodging, in fact -- but his old ally seems to be in an enraptured conversation with a young lady. Tris snorts to himself. Horndog as always, I see.
Instead of interrupting this conversation, Tris moves to the back of the dining hall, where the trays of food lie, and grabs himself a porcelain plate, piling it as tall as he can with delicacies from all around the world. He's well traveled, of course, being himself a treasure seeker, but he'd never been rich enough to afford the majority of the fancy food from...well, anywhere. And so, now, he deigns to treat himself, and by the time he's returned to his table -- one not too close to but not too far from his friend James -- he's precariously balancing the huge plate with both hands, sliding it gingerly onto the table before him and immediately digging in, relishing in the flavour of good food for the first time in months.
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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 9, 2018 10:09:38 GMT -8
The young woman was glad that James had a lot to say. Not only was his dialogue fascinating, but it drew away any questions he might have had about her. Apparently, it wasn't a good idea to tell anyone any bit of the story.
Looking into his eyes, Natasa saw a spark that was so much different than the dead, oppressive stares she had gotten used to. She leaned forward as he spoke, edging her chair closer. Her hands came up to her lips, which parted as she listened. Not even the sigils he drew in the air drew her attention away from his words, though they were pretty. She didn't recognize them at all, but that was no surprise for a peasant who knew little of scholarly pursuits.
The conclusion had her biting her lip, shoulders rising up slightly. "More than noble, then. You're heroic. Even after all you've been through, you strive forward." A warm smile came to her face. "I hope I can be the same in my own journey. Our stories aren't so different."
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Rudiger Dornmauer
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 229
Age: 30
Physical Description: Rudiger is tall at 6'3", and muscularly built from his profession. His skin is weathered from his life on the road, with the first wrinkles of age appearing at the sides of his mouth and his eyes, and thick calluses on his right hand from wielding his sword. His light brown hair has been sheered to a fade parted on the right side, and his strong chin that was once covered by thick goatee has been shaved to stubble, but his thick mustache has remained. His most prominent feature is a thick scar and his missing left eye, which he covers with a black eyepatch, which he lost in a fight with a bear.
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Clothes and Equipment: Rudiger wears a variety of cloths, depending on the situation. For battle, he wears a blue gambeson underneath steel plate armor, which encases him from head to foot. He wears a bellow faced sallet helm, which he learned to wear from the loss of his eye. He wields a hand and half sword, with a decorative eagle on the pommel. He also carries a kite shield, painted with his coat of arm, a black eagle on a red and orange checkered field.
When he's not in battle, he wears a white wool shirt, and thick woolen black pants. He always wears his tan riding boots.
He owns a dapple grey destrier, and a heavy wooden saddle with a high cantle and pommel covered in thick leather.
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Allegiances: The Grand Duchy of Voruta
Registered: Dec 6, 2017 14:20:22 GMT -8
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Post by Rudiger Dornmauer on Nov 9, 2018 20:58:43 GMT -8
Balancing a plate stacked high with steak, mashed potatoes, and a biscuit and carrying a half drunken glass of champagne caused Rudiger to slow his pace considerably as he left the buffet tables and looked for somewhere to sit. He scanned the room with his eye, trying to find a spot for him to eat in peace and...
Damn it man! Get it together! Enjoy yourself, this could be the last night in quite in some time to cut loose! Besides, this is all a grander adventure than he could ever hope of encountering in the wilds of some backwoods! came the voice of annoyance at his incessant pessimism at the ball and the recent turn of events in his life. How could he not hold his manhood cheap if he kept complaining? A rather annoying winged chimera seemed to chirp at him.
Shaking his head at Khepri's latent wisdom, he spied a table with a rather handsome young man and fetching horned woman. Approaching the pair, he stopped just short of them, bowing from the waist with a warm smile infecting his tone, "Mind if I snag a chair and join you two?"
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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 9, 2018 21:14:15 GMT -8
Bel crossed her arms beneath her chest, fingers lacing over her biceps as she listened to Lord Volkh. Was it rude to glance at his fangs when he spoke? Probably unbelievably rude. She blinked when "a few centuries" was glanced over very casually, though, it's not like the most esteemed of the Velmerian noblemen weren't a few hundred years old, including Sinipius.
"You must have lived a long life, Lord Volkh, you'll have to tell me more about such an experience, at a later date." Her finger came to tap on her chin, "Now, Velmerys, well, most of our citizenry are mages of some sort, sent to our college of the arts. Outside, guarding my ride here, are some of my countries most elite. Doppelsnolders, great big swords and the like, they're very threatening. Perhaps, Lord Volkh, you should find your way to my part of the realm, you would be more than welcome."
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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 9, 2018 21:18:23 GMT -8
James was opening his mouth to reply when he was interrupted by a man who looked about as comfortable in his suit as James felt being at this ball. He took in the man’s weathered features and eyepatch before flicking his gaze to Natasa.
“I think I’ll let the lady decide Sir. You understand I’m sure.” He replied cheerfully with an easy smile. He could easily recognize a fellow traveler of the harder road and wasn’t quite sure whether to be comforted he wasn’t alone in being uncomfortable with the aristocratic nonsense or worried about a drunken brawl later if they weren’t the only ones here at the open bar.
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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 9, 2018 21:40:15 GMT -8
When the queen explained the nature of her kingdom, Volkh couldn't help but be impressed. Of course, arcane kingdoms came and went, but each was so utterly unique that their existences were like experiments in and of themselves. It was an intriguing proposition, seeing it in person.
"Perhaps I shall. It may prove to be even more welcoming than Isra itself. Alas, if only my castle could move." he mused humorously. "After all, it can be difficult to refute the summons of a queen." Even a human one. "I consider my expertise to lie in runecrafting." he continued, letting that errant thought go unspoken. "Would that I could show you my blade, or one of my minions. Those are formulas I have worked on for several centuries. Blades in particular are tricky things. You tend not to realize their fragility, until your strength increases."
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