Makhaya the Prophet
Established
Roleplay posts: 22
Age: 47
Physical Description: A sensible looking Gorilla who has grown accustomed to standing as the humans do. His fur is a darkish charcoal color while the fur on his head is a bit brown. His teeth are surprisingly white.
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Clothes and Equipment: Wears a bright yellow, almost golden colored stole around his neck. Can usually be found in plain robes of a dark gray color. Wears a beaded necklace with a banana shaped pendant on the end of it. Carries a metal staff with a single golden banana resting on top of it.
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Allegiances: Order of the Banana
Registered: Oct 22, 2016 8:18:49 GMT -8
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Post by Makhaya the Prophet on Jan 20, 2019 20:09:33 GMT -8
Makhaya wasn’t sure what more he was supposed to tell the boy to convince him they weren’t his enemies. Perhaps some kind of physical evidence, but Makhaya was unsure how to go about procuring such a thing.
“I’m a gorilla, not a demon my child. You poor thing, you’ve clearly lost your head over what has happened here. It’s understandable, witnessing such an event at such a young age… Try not to hurt him Rune, it’s quite clear this is a misunderstanding and the boy is simply overcome with grief.”
Reaching into one of the pockets on his robe, Makhaya produced a small perfume bottle, spraying it several times in the direction of Bataar. It wouldn’t take long for the boy to smell the overwhelming scent of bananas, a scent that was accompanied by an almost soothing effect.
“Perhaps the perfume we use to anoint will steady your nerves and clear your head. Think about it, if we were the people who raided your village why haven’t we harmed you yet? The monsters that destroyed this village wouldn’t hesitate to cut you down where you stand, but we have taken no such action against you.”
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Bataar
Established
Roleplay posts: 13
Age: 18
Physical Description: Bataar in a stocky young man, but still a bit lanky in his youth. He stand at about 5'4", the inch his sister has over him always a source of frustration and teasing. His hair is scruffy and cut oddly, a result of his recent attempts to trim it himself. He has 3 long scars that cross over his eye, a result of an injury sustained when he and his sister snuck out on a midnight hunt when they were young. He has dark brown eyes that are usually full of mirth and passion.He is not old enough yet to have the tattoos traditional to their people.
Clothes and Equipment: He typically wears a simple tunic with leggings and a skin to fend off the chill of the wind. He wears soft heeled boots often in the hopes of one day being able to sneak up on his elder sister- though that wont happen. His weapon of choice is a curved saber which he typically wears strapped to his back.
Allegiances: Tengerii Shiire; His family; Himself
Registered: Jan 2, 2019 12:59:26 GMT -8
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Post by Bataar on Jan 23, 2019 12:50:47 GMT -8
Bataar's eyes widened in a panic as the 'Gorilla', as he called himself, sprayed some perfume in his direction. He immediately raised his arm to block the scent but he'd already breathed some in, in his panting. He choked and coughed on it, even as he felt it trying to calm his mind and center himself.
He stumbled backwards, only to trip and tumble backwards into the mud, falling over a fallen support beam from one of the burned out homes. The words the creature spoke, did make some sense though and he gritted his teeth. Especially taking in consideration what the pink haired woman said.
"Well-H-How am I to trust you then?" He felt around in the mud till his hand closed around a large splintered piece of wood he could use to defend himself. "I didn't see those that did this. My sister sent me away. Why else would you have come here then? Why are you walking around the ruins of my home then? You must... You must be with them. You have to know where they took her..." He said gripping the wood tight, refusing to admit that he still hadn't the slightest idea who might have taken the survivors and his sister. It was too convenient for them to be there and not be involved... right?
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Rune Naimon IV
Committed
Roleplay posts: 63
Age: 19
Physical Description: Rune is an androgynous young man, easily described as beautiful as he leans more on the feminine side. He is 164cm (5'4") tall and weighs 56kg (123lbs). His hair and eyes are noteworthy features, their colors bright and dazzling, yet unnatural. His hair is a light pink and his eyes a vivid purple. His hair is very long, reaching to his waist. He commonly wears his hair in an elaborate braid with various ribbons.
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Clothes and Equipment: Rune usually wears an elaborate set of ornate armor that seems to be rather lacking as far as pure protection goes, foregoing such elements for more aesthetic purposes in some areas. Along with this he wears a white furry cloak. One should note that his armor is adorned with numerous magical enchantments.
At his belt he wears a simple sword, though it is also a heavily enchanted weapon with the ability to reshape itself extensively, such as into different weapons.
Image of equipment: https://i.imgur.com/bJvBzot.jpg
Aside from his combat gear, Rune will usually wear whatever he feels like wearing.
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Registered: Feb 13, 2018 18:11:26 GMT -8
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Post by Rune Naimon IV on Jan 25, 2019 8:52:05 GMT -8
Rune shrugged at Bataar's question, "I dunno, that's up to you whether you trust us or not," he pointed out.
He turned to Makhaya then, "This is your trip, I'm just here to protect you, so whether or not we help him out is up to you," Rune pointed out.
"Either way, I'm fine," he said, crossing his arms, and leaning against a nearby beam of wood jutting out of the ground, left over from a building that had fallen and burned.
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Makhaya the Prophet
Established
Roleplay posts: 22
Age: 47
Physical Description: A sensible looking Gorilla who has grown accustomed to standing as the humans do. His fur is a darkish charcoal color while the fur on his head is a bit brown. His teeth are surprisingly white.
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Clothes and Equipment: Wears a bright yellow, almost golden colored stole around his neck. Can usually be found in plain robes of a dark gray color. Wears a beaded necklace with a banana shaped pendant on the end of it. Carries a metal staff with a single golden banana resting on top of it.
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Allegiances: Order of the Banana
Registered: Oct 22, 2016 8:18:49 GMT -8
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Post by Makhaya the Prophet on Jan 27, 2019 22:28:13 GMT -8
Makhaya had to admit that from the boy's point of view, especially given his and Rune’s odd appearance, the boy wasn’t being completely unreasonable. Still, if the boy could calm down a bit, perhaps then he’d realize the misunderstanding he’d made. Glancing towards Rune, the gorilla stretched his arms slightly as he listened to what his bodyguard had to say.
“Well, I’d very much like to help him, but only if he will allow us to. We can’t force him to take our help if he doesn’t want it.”
Pursing his lips, Makhaya looked back towards the boy, offering him a sympathetic look.
“If we are the people who did this to your village, why are we here alone? The two of us couldn’t have done such a thing, but if we were part of a larger group why have we chosen to remain here by ourselves when the rest of our number has already left? The answer, of course, is that we weren’t the ones who did this to your village. No, we are travelers from across the sea, hence why our appearance is so foreign. I ask you this, have you ever seen anyone even similar to our appearance? Surely you have some idea what your enemy looks like. And if you do, I suspect none of them look similar to us.”
His case for their innocence made, Makhaya had nothing more to do but wait for Bataar's response.
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Bataar
Established
Roleplay posts: 13
Age: 18
Physical Description: Bataar in a stocky young man, but still a bit lanky in his youth. He stand at about 5'4", the inch his sister has over him always a source of frustration and teasing. His hair is scruffy and cut oddly, a result of his recent attempts to trim it himself. He has 3 long scars that cross over his eye, a result of an injury sustained when he and his sister snuck out on a midnight hunt when they were young. He has dark brown eyes that are usually full of mirth and passion.He is not old enough yet to have the tattoos traditional to their people.
Clothes and Equipment: He typically wears a simple tunic with leggings and a skin to fend off the chill of the wind. He wears soft heeled boots often in the hopes of one day being able to sneak up on his elder sister- though that wont happen. His weapon of choice is a curved saber which he typically wears strapped to his back.
Allegiances: Tengerii Shiire; His family; Himself
Registered: Jan 2, 2019 12:59:26 GMT -8
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Post by Bataar on Jan 30, 2019 10:49:10 GMT -8
Bataar looked up at him as he spoke, his hand still tightly wrapped around the splintered shard of wood, actually listening and processing what he had to say. As much as he didn't want to admit it... what he said made sense. As much as it pained him to know that still, he was no closer to finding his village, and more importantly his sister... it began to add up. Their clothing was nothing like the discarded helmet that he had stumbled across in the mud. The woman and the... creature couldn't possibly be part of the clan that destroyed his home.
His hand loosened around the wood piece before his shoulders sank. He dropped his head onto his hand a clear admission that the realization had hit him and hard.
"... You...You are right. I see what you mean... I'm ... I'm sorry for the hostility." He said his voice a bit flat again, lacking the accusatory edge and any energy he may have had. "I just... I wanted it to be true in some way... So at least I'd have some idea of where they took Chinua... But I'm just back where I started... surrounded by the dead still with no idea where to start." He muttered before he struck his forehead with the heel of his hand in frustration, tugging on his front bangs as he gave a harsh grunt of frustration. "Damn it all."
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Rune Naimon IV
Committed
Roleplay posts: 63
Age: 19
Physical Description: Rune is an androgynous young man, easily described as beautiful as he leans more on the feminine side. He is 164cm (5'4") tall and weighs 56kg (123lbs). His hair and eyes are noteworthy features, their colors bright and dazzling, yet unnatural. His hair is a light pink and his eyes a vivid purple. His hair is very long, reaching to his waist. He commonly wears his hair in an elaborate braid with various ribbons.
***
Clothes and Equipment: Rune usually wears an elaborate set of ornate armor that seems to be rather lacking as far as pure protection goes, foregoing such elements for more aesthetic purposes in some areas. Along with this he wears a white furry cloak. One should note that his armor is adorned with numerous magical enchantments.
At his belt he wears a simple sword, though it is also a heavily enchanted weapon with the ability to reshape itself extensively, such as into different weapons.
Image of equipment: https://i.imgur.com/bJvBzot.jpg
Aside from his combat gear, Rune will usually wear whatever he feels like wearing.
***
Registered: Feb 13, 2018 18:11:26 GMT -8
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Post by Rune Naimon IV on Feb 2, 2019 13:09:14 GMT -8
"Hmmm... That is pretty bad. It truly is a problem if you don't know where they took her..." Rune said, his face solemn and his words somber.
Then, Rune drew his sword, twirling it in a dramatic fashion before striking a pose, "However! I, Rune Naimon the Fourth, have decided I will help you in your quest to find and rescue your sister!"
He then thrust his sword out with a woosh, pointing it at Bataar, as if challenging him, "So will you rise up to face your hardships and conquer them? Or stay here and simmer in your frustration?"
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Lazar von Helsingfors
New
✠
Roleplay posts: 9
Age: 31
Physical Description: Large as most Knights, height musculature and shoulder width all being notable as for any Brother of the Sword. From behind his visor cold steel eyes can be seen on skin of a person with a shade typically darker but not given much sun.
Clothes and Equipment: The typical ensemble of blessed gambeson, chainmail and plate of most Brothers. Will have a rather large shield somewhere between kite and heater, and a very large arming sword. Beyond that, he'll carry whatever he can on his horse.
Registered: Jul 15, 2019 17:46:22 GMT -8
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Post by Lazar von Helsingfors on Jul 15, 2019 18:29:15 GMT -8
The Knights of the Angelist Order of the Brothers of the Sword, the noblest of men even if born with commoner's blood. Not a man below two-hundred centimetres in height, donning arms and armour with blessings of their God in every particle of steel not to speak of the Holiness in their very flesh. Their horses were not too dissimilar, heavy barding of the same make upon their monstrous frames. These were but five men, but on the mainland they'd make dragons cower. But they were not on the mainland, they were in this new alien land. The steel of their armour was blackened and the white of their tabards was replaced with a dark grey.
They had successfully avoided many groups across the land, learning what they could first hand rather than what they had read of that Monk's chronicles. Furthermore, they had to make... marks upon the land, and leave little caches; housekeeping work. They had been riding for three days, when at last they happened upon the remains of the Tengerii Shrine. Nestor the Monk hadn't written of this, that they could be sure of. The Brothers dismounted, and on foot lead their steeds to the site. Clearly some nasty business had happened there, someone had razed a whole settlement to the ground. They couldn't really see how high the buildings had been what with wind sweeping ashes and dust away, but Tengerii could have housed anywhere from a hundred to thousands, depending on the sophistication of the people here.
They found fragments of bone here and there, and apparently none of younglings. Assuming it was not in an incompetent search, the Knights reckoned this was the doing of the fellows from the South that had come here, looking for plunder in general and slaves in particular. Well, at least this meant one thing; they wouldn't be returning soon. The Brothers decided then that this would be a good place to encamp. They didn't set a fire, this land being nowhere near the colds they were used to and knowing they couldn't allow any attention to come to them. Instead the Paladins made a pentagon of their steeds, resting crossbows and lances on their backs while using the sides of their beasts for warmth. They planned to sleep for long, almost a whole day! But they would do so in rotas to make sure their throats wouldn't be cut in their sleep even if they had acute senses to make fae-folk jealous.
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Viktoriya Perekupnik
Established
Roleplay posts: 20
Age: 27
Physical Description: ---------------------------------------------------------
A woman whose striking appearance matches her extravagant personality. Viktoriya sports strong, almost untamed features, fitting for a woman who grew up on the dangerous outlands of the steppe. She stands at a slender 5'6", with a slim but toned form, one that betrays her initial impressions as a helpless little merchant woman. She has a narrow waist, wide hips, and surprisingly broad shoulders.
Her face is angular, defined, with prominent cheek bones, full crimson lips, sharp, whispy brows, and striking chocolate eyes. Her nose is a subtle pale slope that sticks out prominently from her face. A small beauty mark punctuates the left corner of her lips. She sports a strong, chiseled jaw. Her hair is long and wavy, a gentle auburn like autumn leaves, usually bound in some sort of loose braid. She often smells of expensive perfume, a berry or floral fragrance.
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Clothes and Equipment: Viktoriya is a woman of lavish tastes. She certainly likes to flaunt her wealth, and unabashedly adorns herself with expensive clothing and accessories. Most of the time you can find her wearing some sort of flowing dress with frilled edges, long sleeves, and gorgeous embossed patterns, usually fabrics dyed a combination of royal green, regal white, and ruby red. Her head is usually adorned with a beautiful kokoshnik covered in precious gemstones and pearls, sometimes accompanied by a lace or silken veil. Her fingers usually sport a wide array of finely crafted rings, bangles, and bracelets. A collar of pearl and gemstone necklaces hangs from her neck. Like many among the hetamanate, furs become a common part of her outfit, usually cloaked in some sort of beautiful fur shawl or cloak made of everything from fox to sable. In cold weather or amongst her hetamanate comrades, she's more likely to be sporting a black sheepskin or red fox fur papakha. Rabbit or mink fur gloves are a common accessory in colder climates. Indicative of her hidden readiness in combat, Viktoriya usually wears pants beneath her dress, and can almost always been found walking around in a pair of sturdy leather boots.
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Unlike your typical tradeswoman of a more delicate culture or upbringing, Viktoriya walks the market clearly armed. A shashka hangs from either hip, red cord with frilled baubles hanging from the hilt of either blade. A Khanjali dagger is usually tucked away somewhere hidden but easily accessed on her person, a last line of defense, and something she can usually stow away if asked to disarm amongst her more cowardly business partners.
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Allegiances: The Hetamanate, Giant's Hand
Registered: Jul 10, 2019 16:15:24 GMT -8
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Post by Viktoriya Perekupnik on Jul 15, 2019 19:58:34 GMT -8
The Tengerii shrine...the Tengerii ruins. She had heard the stories, but only in passing. In truth, Viktoriya had little idea what had occurred there, and in all honesty, it didn't really concern her much. Razing villages to ash was an all too common occurrence in the flash pan conflicts of Toragana, especially when Tamorjin were involved. She'd seen her fair share of Stanitsas raided by all manner of bloody bandit that stalked the steppe in roving droves of horse and bow. What Tengerii served as now was a waypoint, a stop on the map, between point A and point B. It was a solid resting spot, the village that used to lie there had been set up in an ideal area, and the ruins provided extra cover, both from potential enemies and the elements. It was the ideal campsite for a set of travelers making their way through the recesses of Toragana. Her trade caravan made frequent use of it, and it wasn't uncommon to find other free men camped out amongst the rubble. What they would find waiting this trip however, would be something truly bizarre.
The caravan came to a steady slow as they approached what was once the settlement's main road. The Hetamanate always stood out, even with those native to Toragana. Three carts, and about 12 of them in total, including Viktoriya herself. They wore unusual garb, the mounted men dressed in their chokhas, red, white, black, adorned with accents of silver and gold, simple cotton pants and knee high leather boots. Most sported tall fluffy hats, papakha, made of white or black sheep's wool. Some men among the carts sported fur cloaks and coats and simple drawstring shirts, some with bandannas, while others had their heads left bare, slick black hair styled in the unusual chupryna cut, a single lock snaking down the side of a cleanly shaven head. Most sported finely waxed or styled mustaches, mutton chops, or full on beards. The one other woman accompanying the band besides Viktoriya wore a simple red and white sarafan dress. The soldiers wore sabres at their waists, and the forward vanguard tightly clutched fur adorned lances. The few men in the rear guard sported simple bows, the most commonly seen weapon among the people of the steppe. At the center of it all, the merchant matriarch herself, Viktoriya Perekupnik, in a style atypical and seemingly unfitting for the woman. On stretches of long travel she usually opted for more comfortable travelling gear, and so she too wore a chokha, a woolly white papakha crowning her head, matching perfectly with the white fox fur shawl that rested gently on her broad shoulders, a sabre hung from either hip. Their horses were comparably furtive to the ring of massive steeds that lay ahead. As their forward patrol made the signal to stop, Viktoriya let a grumble and sigh escape her lips, unimpressed to stumble across an interruption in their plan.
Viktoriya ordered the wagons and their rear guard to remain at the entrance to the village ruins, not only would they cover their flank for an impending ambush, but Viktoriya didn't want to risk her untrained personnel, or worse yet, their cargo, moving up to address their unexpected camp neighbors. Viktoriya, her translator and foreign agent, and two veteran cavalrymen would approach with her instead. They had no intentions to fight, such a small group probably wasn't any military force or raiding band. They approached slowly on horseback, torches lit, trot slow, weapons sheathed but ready to draw. As they encroached on the small encampment the merchantess raised a quizzical brow, their horses coming to a halt as the soft glow of the torches illuminated the edge of the ring of camping soldiers. Her right most cavalier, Yakiv, said what she was thinking in a half whisper, they spoke in their native tongue.
"Foreigners? This far from the Isranian port and Giant's hand?" he hissed.
The one on the far left, Mykola, was next to chime in. "Maybe they're Isranian? Mercenaries hunting down a thief or something? God knows we have no shortage of those up here."
"Do they look Isranian to you, mudak? We never saw shit like this at Silverion. It's like they're made of metal. Where the hell did they come from?" she snapped back, Yakiv snickering as his friend was cursed out by their leader. Viktoriya shot him a silencing glare. Finally, the voice of reason chimed in: Vadym, her wordly translator.
"Pretty sure they're Vessians." he remarked, in a matter of fact tone.
"You speak their language, Vadym? I have no great desire to fight a thing like that, even with superior numbers." Viktoriya asked.
"Bah, we could take 'em." Mykola scoffed, quickly hushed by another dagger glare from their venomous leader.
"A little, that's what you pay me for, after all. I'm pretty sure they speak the common tongue though." He remarked.
She let a little musing hum slip through her lips, before meeting eyes with the stoic translator and giving a nod. With that, he bellowed out a greeting, cupping a hand over his mouth as he called out to the watchman on guard, a simplistic but accurate Vessich "Hello, we mean no harm!" The four awaited a response with choked breaths, fingers twitching as they readied themselves should the foreigners answer with weapons rather than words.
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Lazar von Helsingfors
New
✠
Roleplay posts: 9
Age: 31
Physical Description: Large as most Knights, height musculature and shoulder width all being notable as for any Brother of the Sword. From behind his visor cold steel eyes can be seen on skin of a person with a shade typically darker but not given much sun.
Clothes and Equipment: The typical ensemble of blessed gambeson, chainmail and plate of most Brothers. Will have a rather large shield somewhere between kite and heater, and a very large arming sword. Beyond that, he'll carry whatever he can on his horse.
Registered: Jul 15, 2019 17:46:22 GMT -8
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Post by Lazar von Helsingfors on Jul 16, 2019 10:11:18 GMT -8
The Knights slept fairly well, shifts of the men guarding going between Brothers Lazar, Cyrus, Kuno, Sigmund and Bolko. The scene was not particularly eventful, most movement being simply the wind sweeping up ashes and pebbles about. The horses were somewhat restless, but Kuno was good with them and eventually got the beasts to relax and sleep as well. They all found their own little entertainments be it Cyrus sharpening his blades with an overused whetstone or Bolko quietly playing his strings.
Hours passed, the until it seemed the Knights happened upon some trouble. Kuno was reading his psalter when he looked up to see a column of people approaching. He grimaced, knowing full well that by now it was too late to avoid being properly noticed. He gave a tap to each of his comrades so they would wake, each rising to look at the Free Men through their visors. They could in theory kill them, the distance wasn't too grand and the enemy didn't seem particularly heavily armed. None amongst them seemed to bear plate armours, nor did they seem to bear any maces or other tools to crack open the cans that the Knights were. On the other hand, the woman there amongst them may well have been a wizard and these nomad folks were clever, they could easily be hiding a mace or a firepot about their person. Anyway, they didn't seem to be Tamorjin, Centaurs, elves, or other peoples they could classify as under-humans. In fact, they looked quite similar to some minorities of Swavia, they certainly didn't look like the darker skinned and slant or squint eyed folks that they had come to stereotype as Toragana natives.
A quick vote was taken, and it was ultimately decided they'd parley with their counterparts who seemed to want to do likewise. They were oddly surprised to be addressed in their home tongue, and looked to one another looking for an answer. As the de facto leader of the group, Lazar articulated a reply first. "Yes." Technically not a lie, two of the men were ethnic Vessischers and one was of a Vessian minority, even if only one of them was actually born in Vessia. "We are, I suppose there are things to distinguish us." He said, before looking to the rest of the group and addressing them in the common tongue, knowing a conversation that was only understood by one person of the Knight's counterparts would most likely make the rest of the Free Men unnerved and anxious. "We're, er... traders, we got lost." He said, realizing how daft the reply was. Traders from Vessia usually never crossed the mountains this far, and when they did they would take a comfortable and safe route straight to the Giant's hand. Vessians that got this far into Toragana were usually the Questing Knights that crossed the mountains every other year looking to prove themselves in an alien land, albeit they would never carry the same black-white heraldry as the Order nor would they have the same distinctive horns on their helmets. But to people who only saw Knights every so often, how was one tin man different from another? "Well, rather there were some traders who got lost, now we search for them." Lazar said, now much more confident with a more believable story. "We don't look kindly upon some of our folk disappearing."
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Viktoriya Perekupnik
Established
Roleplay posts: 20
Age: 27
Physical Description: ---------------------------------------------------------
A woman whose striking appearance matches her extravagant personality. Viktoriya sports strong, almost untamed features, fitting for a woman who grew up on the dangerous outlands of the steppe. She stands at a slender 5'6", with a slim but toned form, one that betrays her initial impressions as a helpless little merchant woman. She has a narrow waist, wide hips, and surprisingly broad shoulders.
Her face is angular, defined, with prominent cheek bones, full crimson lips, sharp, whispy brows, and striking chocolate eyes. Her nose is a subtle pale slope that sticks out prominently from her face. A small beauty mark punctuates the left corner of her lips. She sports a strong, chiseled jaw. Her hair is long and wavy, a gentle auburn like autumn leaves, usually bound in some sort of loose braid. She often smells of expensive perfume, a berry or floral fragrance.
---------------------------------------------------------
Clothes and Equipment: Viktoriya is a woman of lavish tastes. She certainly likes to flaunt her wealth, and unabashedly adorns herself with expensive clothing and accessories. Most of the time you can find her wearing some sort of flowing dress with frilled edges, long sleeves, and gorgeous embossed patterns, usually fabrics dyed a combination of royal green, regal white, and ruby red. Her head is usually adorned with a beautiful kokoshnik covered in precious gemstones and pearls, sometimes accompanied by a lace or silken veil. Her fingers usually sport a wide array of finely crafted rings, bangles, and bracelets. A collar of pearl and gemstone necklaces hangs from her neck. Like many among the hetamanate, furs become a common part of her outfit, usually cloaked in some sort of beautiful fur shawl or cloak made of everything from fox to sable. In cold weather or amongst her hetamanate comrades, she's more likely to be sporting a black sheepskin or red fox fur papakha. Rabbit or mink fur gloves are a common accessory in colder climates. Indicative of her hidden readiness in combat, Viktoriya usually wears pants beneath her dress, and can almost always been found walking around in a pair of sturdy leather boots.
---------------------------------------------------------
Unlike your typical tradeswoman of a more delicate culture or upbringing, Viktoriya walks the market clearly armed. A shashka hangs from either hip, red cord with frilled baubles hanging from the hilt of either blade. A Khanjali dagger is usually tucked away somewhere hidden but easily accessed on her person, a last line of defense, and something she can usually stow away if asked to disarm amongst her more cowardly business partners.
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Allegiances: The Hetamanate, Giant's Hand
Registered: Jul 10, 2019 16:15:24 GMT -8
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Post by Viktoriya Perekupnik on Jul 16, 2019 11:00:51 GMT -8
The tension among the free men seeped from their frames as the knights responded with greetings rather than crossbow bolts, and they spoke common, nonetheless, eliminating concerns of the language barrier to some extent, though their command of the language was admittedly rough, save for Viktoriya and Vadym. It seemed they were being sized up to some extent, the same way they had estimated the threat these knights posed to the caravan, but fortunately, it seemed they would not prey upon the clear disadvantage the free men held in equipment. As the leader of the soldiers barked an affirming response, Viktoriya gave the men at her command a look, seemingly speaking without words they knew exactly her orders. They began to dismount from the horses, Vadym aiding Viktoriya in making it safely to the ground in a graceful manner. If they were going to speak, lording over the foreigners from horseback was neither practical nor polite.
The one doing the talking continued, and Viktoriya's lips twitched with a smirk. "You don't say? No offense, but you look like whores in the church pews. Not even the Isranians walk around covered head to toe in steel." she remarked, nodding towards them, as if to call attention to their attire. The amusing responses continued, Viktoriya was really beginning to like these Vessians. She made another one of those knowing looks to her companions, and as if on cue, they began boisterously laughing, their hooting petering out as they were quick to answer that assertion.
"And we're a band of traveling knights on a quest to kill a dragon." Vadym remarked, flushing his hands over himself in a grandiose gesture, mimicking their claim with a ludicrous assertion of his own. "You're not traders, and you're most certainly not good liars, either. I respect the sell though, that kind of confidence can carry a man pretty far, but unless you're selling beatings and bolt wounds I'm sorry to say I am less than convinced." Viktoriya quickly followed, now full on grinning. Why did he feel the need to lie? Was he worried they'd be seen as a threat? Or maybe they were up to something mischievous up here. Hard to say, but she was certainly brimming with skepticism now.
The claims continued, and the wry woman's expression quickly faded to something more neutral. She would hear them out in spite of their track record. She cocked a brow as his story changed, maybe he misspoke, if not, she commended the good pivot, this was a far more believable claim. "Lost merchants hm? I assume you're not looking for us. You might be just as lost as they are though, I'm sorry to say, friend. Giant's Hand and the Isranian Port are more than a stone's throw south of here, I cannot imagine what a foreign trade caravan would be doing this far North, though I suppose you could check the markets in Vil'nih, though we've just come from there, and I can assuredly say I did not see anyone quite like you lot. It's rare for us to get foreign visitors." she informed them, at the very least trying to give them the benefit of the doubt and play along some with this story. Perhaps he had just been nervous at first, she didn't like to assume guilt where there was none.
"Could I ask if you know what they were selling or looking to buy?" With the question, the woman took a step forward and extended a hand. "Viktoriya Perekupnik, I've been a merchant here since I was a little girl, I might be able to help you find them, if you can just give me a little more to go on. Unarmed foreigners don't last long here, especially far from the major cities. I hope your caravan is safe, God Willing." she affirmed, showing a fairly genuine amount of concern in her tone. She waited patiently for his response.
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Lazar von Helsingfors
New
✠
Roleplay posts: 9
Age: 31
Physical Description: Large as most Knights, height musculature and shoulder width all being notable as for any Brother of the Sword. From behind his visor cold steel eyes can be seen on skin of a person with a shade typically darker but not given much sun.
Clothes and Equipment: The typical ensemble of blessed gambeson, chainmail and plate of most Brothers. Will have a rather large shield somewhere between kite and heater, and a very large arming sword. Beyond that, he'll carry whatever he can on his horse.
Registered: Jul 15, 2019 17:46:22 GMT -8
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Post by Lazar von Helsingfors on Jul 16, 2019 15:05:42 GMT -8
Though Lazar felt a moment of pride in his explanation, he felt a growing disappointment as it seemed that the woman before them didn't want to react to their tale quite as they expected. The analogy of whores in pews didn't quite get to the man until Vadym added his own, and the Knights understood where their line of thought was going. A slight argument broke out between a few of the Brothers until Lazar kicked Bolko in the leg and they stopped, returning to their general appearance of innocence.
"No, no, not you. They're men from back home, they had a cargo fairly precious, or, well, precious in these parts. They had carts of lumber, what with this land not having any forests. They know they can get a great markup for their wood as though it were some rare and precious commodity because for you Toraganians it truly is, as opposed to our lands where trees are plentiful. They were hoping for some spices the papers said, but they never returned home. If it turns out that Vessian merchants are being attacked then... well, responses must be proportionate, no?" The other four brothers gave deep bloodthirsty laughs at this, looking once more to one another.
"We picked up a trail of the fellows, they seem to have stopped here just like we did." Lazar said, doubling down on the story. As Viktoriya named herself he replied in kind with "Lazar von Helsingfors, the pleasure is mine." The helmeted head tilted as he looked at the offered hand with confusion, not quite expecting or understanding the woman's gesture with her being a... well, a her. He decided to ignore it, and go on. "If you do not mind the question, who do you represent?" The Knight queried. He knew of the Vil'nih place from Nestor the Monk but he didn't know if these were the so called Free Men.
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Viktoriya Perekupnik
Established
Roleplay posts: 20
Age: 27
Physical Description: ---------------------------------------------------------
A woman whose striking appearance matches her extravagant personality. Viktoriya sports strong, almost untamed features, fitting for a woman who grew up on the dangerous outlands of the steppe. She stands at a slender 5'6", with a slim but toned form, one that betrays her initial impressions as a helpless little merchant woman. She has a narrow waist, wide hips, and surprisingly broad shoulders.
Her face is angular, defined, with prominent cheek bones, full crimson lips, sharp, whispy brows, and striking chocolate eyes. Her nose is a subtle pale slope that sticks out prominently from her face. A small beauty mark punctuates the left corner of her lips. She sports a strong, chiseled jaw. Her hair is long and wavy, a gentle auburn like autumn leaves, usually bound in some sort of loose braid. She often smells of expensive perfume, a berry or floral fragrance.
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Clothes and Equipment: Viktoriya is a woman of lavish tastes. She certainly likes to flaunt her wealth, and unabashedly adorns herself with expensive clothing and accessories. Most of the time you can find her wearing some sort of flowing dress with frilled edges, long sleeves, and gorgeous embossed patterns, usually fabrics dyed a combination of royal green, regal white, and ruby red. Her head is usually adorned with a beautiful kokoshnik covered in precious gemstones and pearls, sometimes accompanied by a lace or silken veil. Her fingers usually sport a wide array of finely crafted rings, bangles, and bracelets. A collar of pearl and gemstone necklaces hangs from her neck. Like many among the hetamanate, furs become a common part of her outfit, usually cloaked in some sort of beautiful fur shawl or cloak made of everything from fox to sable. In cold weather or amongst her hetamanate comrades, she's more likely to be sporting a black sheepskin or red fox fur papakha. Rabbit or mink fur gloves are a common accessory in colder climates. Indicative of her hidden readiness in combat, Viktoriya usually wears pants beneath her dress, and can almost always been found walking around in a pair of sturdy leather boots.
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Unlike your typical tradeswoman of a more delicate culture or upbringing, Viktoriya walks the market clearly armed. A shashka hangs from either hip, red cord with frilled baubles hanging from the hilt of either blade. A Khanjali dagger is usually tucked away somewhere hidden but easily accessed on her person, a last line of defense, and something she can usually stow away if asked to disarm amongst her more cowardly business partners.
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Allegiances: The Hetamanate, Giant's Hand
Registered: Jul 10, 2019 16:15:24 GMT -8
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Post by Viktoriya Perekupnik on Jul 16, 2019 16:05:48 GMT -8
Smiles formed on mustached faces as the knights went about scuffling with one another. They were quite the quirky bunch, though it wasn't like the caravaners could really claim any different. Viktoriya was quite pleased with this, fully expecting a bunch of stuffy clerical types, grace and honor, all that. These men were far more personable than that. Viktoriya nodded along as she listened to the knight better explain their circumstances and their reason for being lost up in the northern reaches. She folded a hand against her hip as she mused on the information, her eyes searching upwards for anything to match.
"Lumber, hm? That's reasonable enough, after all, we use more wood than monst in Toragana, the Tamorjin are rarely interested in building homes, much more interested in burning them to the ground...this place was an exception, though it looks like it ended up the same." she remarked, sweeping a hand across the ruins. If this still was a running lie, this man had certainly picked up in his forethinking on the details. "I can't say we were expecting any shipments in Vil'nih, though maybe one of the stanitsas put in an order...or a new pop up, maybe. I could not say for sure." Again the details didn't seem to quite line up right, though She let him continue, without protest.
As the man went on to remark on dues paid for dues owed, those written in blood, Viktoriya let a little hiss out of the side of a sly grin. "Yes, but you're going to have a tough time of it. Toragana is practically brimming with bandits, raiders, and thieves. It would be one hell of a hassle to figure out who killed them, if they really are dead. If it's the Tamorjin, forget about it. They are like...locusts. Buzzing around in big swarms, you could squish one hundred and barely notice any missing." She remarked, watching curiously as the men behind the leading knight laughed at the thought of hunting men. They would fit in just fine in Toragana.
She shifted her weight to the other foot as he continued filling her in with the details of their supposed quest. "Is that so? If they camped here that means they were either headed for Vil'nih or the stanitsas, though as I said I believe it unlikely, so far as I'm informed, and I am always informed. The other option would be they were headed out of the mountains, that would likely mean either Dzhambul or Giant's Hand." she offered, trying to provide them some help in narrowing their search, if they were truly searching for anything at all.
The man introduced himself then, but stared at her hand without shaking. Creases formed at the edge of the woman's welcoming smile as she fought the urge to sneer at him for refusing to shake her hand. "It is good to meet you, Lazar." she forced out in her best cordial tone, in spite of her annoyance with his earlier slight. As the knight went on to interrogate them about who they represented, another set of wide eyed looks and smirking grins was shared among the free men before Viktoriya returned her attention to answer.
"Ourselves, for the most part. But if I think I understand what you're trying to get at, we're Free Men, of the Hetamanate. Hetman Denisov is in charge of Vil'nih, I guess you might call him our king...though...I'd watch saying things like that to other Free Men, a word of warning, free of charge." She answered, an almost playfulness to her answer. These fish out of water where quite fun to watch flop around on the unfamiliar shore. She hoped they would find their way back to the ocean, or sprout legs. She would help them along as best she could.
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Lazar von Helsingfors
New
✠
Roleplay posts: 9
Age: 31
Physical Description: Large as most Knights, height musculature and shoulder width all being notable as for any Brother of the Sword. From behind his visor cold steel eyes can be seen on skin of a person with a shade typically darker but not given much sun.
Clothes and Equipment: The typical ensemble of blessed gambeson, chainmail and plate of most Brothers. Will have a rather large shield somewhere between kite and heater, and a very large arming sword. Beyond that, he'll carry whatever he can on his horse.
Registered: Jul 15, 2019 17:46:22 GMT -8
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Post by Lazar von Helsingfors on Jul 18, 2019 11:16:06 GMT -8
"No, they are not. But there are other uses for wood as I am sure you know. The shafts of weapons, the base of bows and their arrows, a starter for fires, so on and so forth. Besides, impermanent homes need wood too, yurts and the likes. And then, even if wood weren't immediately necessary for these Tamorjin, then it certainly wouldn't go amiss being traded to other folk. But, frankly, I would not know." He stated, having at least a pretty good poker face given he had his whole face covered with a sheet of metal.
Some of the Brothers were more or less starting to understand their facade was uncovered, but if they committed to a story then with that story they would stick. Of course this wasn't unanimous, and both Kuno and Bolko wanted to cut off the dialogue but they had different directions in mind, so the internal conversation didn't go anywhere productive.
But as Viktoriya mentioned their hypothetical adversaries, the Brothers looked at one another again with Lazar speaking up for the lot. "We've got time." The words came quite leisurely and were immediately followed by yet another boastful laugh from the five men, two of them even beating on their breastplates with loud donks. "But, in all seriousness, if it takes a century we fear not. Of course we may need assistance from more of our Brothers, but we shall have retirbution. One has to understand that they do not cross the Reichsadler and get away with it. Even if the doer of the crime passes away, then his children, grandchildren, wife, siblings, cousins, nephews, nieces and their children, grandchildren, wives, siblings and cousins in turn and so on and so forth will receive the ultimate punishment. Though any death will suffice, we have been ordered to in particular strangle them with their own intestines. Nasty business, but entertaining, no?" he said, getting a cheer from his comrades.
"Regardless, I wouldn't know much of the path they took, this land is alien to us from geography to politics, and so we only follow that which we know, all the little markers and such our countrymen would leave behind. I thank you for the advice of course, our travels may easily lead us to your land. Would perchance there be sellswords in your lands, or brokered through you? We're a great five, but even our overpowering pentarchy may in fact, not suffice."
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Viktoriya Perekupnik
Established
Roleplay posts: 20
Age: 27
Physical Description: ---------------------------------------------------------
A woman whose striking appearance matches her extravagant personality. Viktoriya sports strong, almost untamed features, fitting for a woman who grew up on the dangerous outlands of the steppe. She stands at a slender 5'6", with a slim but toned form, one that betrays her initial impressions as a helpless little merchant woman. She has a narrow waist, wide hips, and surprisingly broad shoulders.
Her face is angular, defined, with prominent cheek bones, full crimson lips, sharp, whispy brows, and striking chocolate eyes. Her nose is a subtle pale slope that sticks out prominently from her face. A small beauty mark punctuates the left corner of her lips. She sports a strong, chiseled jaw. Her hair is long and wavy, a gentle auburn like autumn leaves, usually bound in some sort of loose braid. She often smells of expensive perfume, a berry or floral fragrance.
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Clothes and Equipment: Viktoriya is a woman of lavish tastes. She certainly likes to flaunt her wealth, and unabashedly adorns herself with expensive clothing and accessories. Most of the time you can find her wearing some sort of flowing dress with frilled edges, long sleeves, and gorgeous embossed patterns, usually fabrics dyed a combination of royal green, regal white, and ruby red. Her head is usually adorned with a beautiful kokoshnik covered in precious gemstones and pearls, sometimes accompanied by a lace or silken veil. Her fingers usually sport a wide array of finely crafted rings, bangles, and bracelets. A collar of pearl and gemstone necklaces hangs from her neck. Like many among the hetamanate, furs become a common part of her outfit, usually cloaked in some sort of beautiful fur shawl or cloak made of everything from fox to sable. In cold weather or amongst her hetamanate comrades, she's more likely to be sporting a black sheepskin or red fox fur papakha. Rabbit or mink fur gloves are a common accessory in colder climates. Indicative of her hidden readiness in combat, Viktoriya usually wears pants beneath her dress, and can almost always been found walking around in a pair of sturdy leather boots.
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Unlike your typical tradeswoman of a more delicate culture or upbringing, Viktoriya walks the market clearly armed. A shashka hangs from either hip, red cord with frilled baubles hanging from the hilt of either blade. A Khanjali dagger is usually tucked away somewhere hidden but easily accessed on her person, a last line of defense, and something she can usually stow away if asked to disarm amongst her more cowardly business partners.
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Allegiances: The Hetamanate, Giant's Hand
Registered: Jul 10, 2019 16:15:24 GMT -8
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Post by Viktoriya Perekupnik on Jul 18, 2019 11:46:01 GMT -8
She gave a simple nod "certainly, but again, the raiders raid, they don't trade. However, it is definitely a possibility. In any case, if you're going to keep looking, that's the route I'd patrol. From Vil'nih to Dhzambul. A river runs perpendicular to the path, you could try that as well, maybe they got caught up in the naval market flow." she summarized, doing her best to provide what little guidance she could to the clearly lost men, in whatever they were pursuing, lost traders or otherwise.
Their reactions to the mention of the struggle they would face in tracking down a criminal in a land of thieves was certainly haunting, though not an unfamiliar sentiment. Those hollow laughs made the hairs on her arms stand on end. The grisly nature they planned to go about it was less than commendable, but she could hardly comment, recalling on stories her father told of the days before the Hetman, cleaving heads from horseback in village centers. The Free Men had barely moved beyond that bloody history, and Viktoriya was no stranger to brutality, though most of the men she cut down atleast had fought back.
"Sounds like you'll fit in just fine here. It's certainly an...interesting proposition." she remarked, the men behind her giving a few nods and grunts of approval, men who had clearly built livelihoods off that kind of vindictive violence. Lazar continued on, making note of their unfamiliarity with the region, something that most certainly wasn't a lie, only further confirmed by the following question. Another great round of boisterous cackles and chuckling erupted from the free men, Viktoriya included, who by the end of it was wiping a stray tear from the corner of her eye.
"The Hetamanate was built on the bloodshed of sellswords. It's our culture, our way of life, as much as the Hetman wants to leave it all behind, mercenary work is like breathing for a free man." Viktoriya boasted with an unusual pride in the statement, as though the legacy was an honorable merit to her people.
"Like asking if there's any eggs in a chicken coop, or water in the ocean, friend." Vadym chimed in quickly.
"You don't exactly look like poor conscripts either, that armor can't be cheap, I'd bet you could find a hundred good men to hire in a manner of days." Yakiv added, a sputtering chuckle punctuating the point.
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Lazar von Helsingfors
New
✠
Roleplay posts: 9
Age: 31
Physical Description: Large as most Knights, height musculature and shoulder width all being notable as for any Brother of the Sword. From behind his visor cold steel eyes can be seen on skin of a person with a shade typically darker but not given much sun.
Clothes and Equipment: The typical ensemble of blessed gambeson, chainmail and plate of most Brothers. Will have a rather large shield somewhere between kite and heater, and a very large arming sword. Beyond that, he'll carry whatever he can on his horse.
Registered: Jul 15, 2019 17:46:22 GMT -8
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Post by Lazar von Helsingfors on Jul 27, 2019 13:06:07 GMT -8
"The raiders don't, their kinsmen do. We're not stupid, we know how the Giant's Hand and the likes work. We've got maps of the area and the likes too, we're well aware of that. The issue comes in finding reliable sources for localized details like perhaps a sandstorm across the cold deserts that would have made passage impossible. We have quite the theoretical knowledge of this land, at any moment easily expanded thanks to many texts and such things we have accumulated and translated, but it is not merely enough to go on for a direct final resting place of our kinsmen. No, it is a long search we must go on to bring peace upon the lost men and to bring vengeance to the wrong-doers of this land."
Lazar and the Knights nodded in understanding as it was said they'd fit in here. "Brutish troops in a land of brutes, we understand." one of the Knights commented, a metallic echo coming from the depths of his greathelm. They stood reacting to the laughs and joys of the Freemen, their expressions unreadable by virtue of thick metal sheets but they were all smiling with satisfaction. They had apparently come upon the right men.
"I don't doubt your proud warrior tradition, albeit I also don't doubt such traditions are common here as it has already been amde evident to us. Regardless, we certainly can afford many mercenaries provided that the gold standard here is similar to that of the rest of the world. You see m'lady, the issue is that apparently the Tamorjin have been hunting Centaurs and driving them southwards. We take no real issue with this, the more one cleanses the lands of under-humans and other impure things the better. But this has made our searches Southwards very difficult as the creatures now cluster in the region. Good men on quick horses with blade and bow to cull the rest of the animals would be very much appreciated and rewarded handsomely — both for the fighters themselves and the brokers of them." Lazar said quite pointedly.
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Viktoriya Perekupnik
Established
Roleplay posts: 20
Age: 27
Physical Description: ---------------------------------------------------------
A woman whose striking appearance matches her extravagant personality. Viktoriya sports strong, almost untamed features, fitting for a woman who grew up on the dangerous outlands of the steppe. She stands at a slender 5'6", with a slim but toned form, one that betrays her initial impressions as a helpless little merchant woman. She has a narrow waist, wide hips, and surprisingly broad shoulders.
Her face is angular, defined, with prominent cheek bones, full crimson lips, sharp, whispy brows, and striking chocolate eyes. Her nose is a subtle pale slope that sticks out prominently from her face. A small beauty mark punctuates the left corner of her lips. She sports a strong, chiseled jaw. Her hair is long and wavy, a gentle auburn like autumn leaves, usually bound in some sort of loose braid. She often smells of expensive perfume, a berry or floral fragrance.
---------------------------------------------------------
Clothes and Equipment: Viktoriya is a woman of lavish tastes. She certainly likes to flaunt her wealth, and unabashedly adorns herself with expensive clothing and accessories. Most of the time you can find her wearing some sort of flowing dress with frilled edges, long sleeves, and gorgeous embossed patterns, usually fabrics dyed a combination of royal green, regal white, and ruby red. Her head is usually adorned with a beautiful kokoshnik covered in precious gemstones and pearls, sometimes accompanied by a lace or silken veil. Her fingers usually sport a wide array of finely crafted rings, bangles, and bracelets. A collar of pearl and gemstone necklaces hangs from her neck. Like many among the hetamanate, furs become a common part of her outfit, usually cloaked in some sort of beautiful fur shawl or cloak made of everything from fox to sable. In cold weather or amongst her hetamanate comrades, she's more likely to be sporting a black sheepskin or red fox fur papakha. Rabbit or mink fur gloves are a common accessory in colder climates. Indicative of her hidden readiness in combat, Viktoriya usually wears pants beneath her dress, and can almost always been found walking around in a pair of sturdy leather boots.
---------------------------------------------------------
Unlike your typical tradeswoman of a more delicate culture or upbringing, Viktoriya walks the market clearly armed. A shashka hangs from either hip, red cord with frilled baubles hanging from the hilt of either blade. A Khanjali dagger is usually tucked away somewhere hidden but easily accessed on her person, a last line of defense, and something she can usually stow away if asked to disarm amongst her more cowardly business partners.
---------------------------------------------------------
Allegiances: The Hetamanate, Giant's Hand
Registered: Jul 10, 2019 16:15:24 GMT -8
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Post by Viktoriya Perekupnik on Jul 27, 2019 13:50:58 GMT -8
As their jovial revelry died down, Viktoriya gave a nod to Lazar as he reaffirmed his assertions about the way things supposedly worked in Toragana. His brushstrokes were a little thick, as far as she was concerned, but he was not wrong to paint groups as fairly cohesive in most cases with the many peoples of Toragana, though she liked to think the Free Men were the one exception to that philosophy. It was honestly hard to gauge their real intents or reactions with any given statement, hidden behind those metal masks. In a way it added to their intimidating aura, but it also made mundane communication far more difficult.
"You're certainly not stupid, after all, you tried to lie your way out of what you're really doing here. Only an idiot tells the truth to strangers in this land. If you're willing to hike across the plains I'm sure a bunch of foreign traders will turn up eventually, it's not as though we have a particularly bustling international community here. Marauder hordes aren't exactly enticing to your average travelling merchant." she conceded, more or less agreeing with his summation of the circumstances surrounding the steppe.
Viktoriya raised a finger and thumb to her chin as the knight went on to elaborate exactly what he had planned for the purposes of his now extensive sounding search for the missing caravan. Her interest was now quite fully piqued, as he went on to talk about the cleansing of the centaurs and their migration heading south bound. It was certainly an odd conflict, but really none more strange than was typical for the region. All in all the coin was what mattered, the fact that they were 'under-humans', as he so crudely put it, was more or less irrelevant to her personally. She lowered her hand and gestured instead with a proposing open palm.
"They certainly aren't uncommon, but hired men are a specialty of our people. Capitalizing on the violence here is what separates us from the bloodthirsty barbarians in the south. I assure your your coin would be well spent here, and it's most definitely valued at similar rates to the foreign marketplace. They aren't elves, but I'm sure a good number of Free Men would get a kick out of hunting down the man-horses. If you're looking to facilitate hiring, I would recommend you find yourself a reliable, well respected business person whose familiar with the stanitsas and the people who reside there. Someone like me, though it's not exactly like you have a lot of options otherwise, no?" she suggested, ready to capitalize on the lucrative opportunity being positioned before her, now in full swindler mode, her tone creeping, trying to entice with an energetic pop. It seemed Lazar had the same thing in mind as her, so subtly emphasizing the handsome rewards for a broker.
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Lazar von Helsingfors
New
✠
Roleplay posts: 9
Age: 31
Physical Description: Large as most Knights, height musculature and shoulder width all being notable as for any Brother of the Sword. From behind his visor cold steel eyes can be seen on skin of a person with a shade typically darker but not given much sun.
Clothes and Equipment: The typical ensemble of blessed gambeson, chainmail and plate of most Brothers. Will have a rather large shield somewhere between kite and heater, and a very large arming sword. Beyond that, he'll carry whatever he can on his horse.
Registered: Jul 15, 2019 17:46:22 GMT -8
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Post by Lazar von Helsingfors on Jul 29, 2019 13:29:43 GMT -8
The Knights likewise awaited the end of the outbursts to say something, always making sure it was with full clarity with no potential for misunderstandings given the informal nature of the parley. In a land as fickle as Toragana the Brothers knew very well that they didn't want the wrong meaning of their words to be taken, and as such they made sure what they said could only be taken at face value, the only possible conclusions that deviated from what was said being things made upon superior knowledge of the lands from the side of the Freemen.
They didn't comment on the statement from Viktoriya that they were lying, all but ignoring it from the conversation as emotionless visors stared back at t he gaze of the Free fellows. "Yes. This is a cursed land, but there are still those greedy or foolish enough to go to this Giant's Hand of yours hoping to find an oasis of civilization and sanity that will bring them the commodities that this land has to offer. I am a Brother of the Sword, my life is simple, but I do at times wonder just how mercantile nature can be so powerful so as to drive men to their deaths as this."
As Viktoriya considered their offer and replied, the Knights yet again looked to one another with a deep chuckle reverberating in their plate armour. "Ah, yes, the elves. Another nuisance indeed, one we also seek to purge our path of but they are not what we immediately need to clear. In our land there is a saying, something along the lines of 'work first, pleasure later.' After the centaurs are exterminated we will gladly also take on the elves, particularly in more concentrated and vital paths. But not now, we must first secure the routes my Brothers and I shall most frequent the most in our travels and only then once this staging ground is ready we might look to liberating this land of its elvish presence. But, enough of that." Lazar said, going over to his horse to rummage for some stationery before returning to Viktoriya.
"An arrangement like this, I think, will work. You now estimate how many men you can bring forth and what their price shall be. I will prepare the necessary funds, and arrive with them at a meeting point to the South in a few days. You will likewise come to this meeting point with the promised mercenaries to along with them collect the promised pay for them and yourself and then the entertainments shall begin. Depending on how things proceed, we may go on in a more longstanding partnership wherein you may at will deliver to us the heads of centaurs for compensation proportional to the amount of the animals killed. And of course, upon dealing with the major threat of the centaurs we may discuss how to continue on with the elves. Good?"
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Viktoriya Perekupnik
Established
Roleplay posts: 20
Age: 27
Physical Description: ---------------------------------------------------------
A woman whose striking appearance matches her extravagant personality. Viktoriya sports strong, almost untamed features, fitting for a woman who grew up on the dangerous outlands of the steppe. She stands at a slender 5'6", with a slim but toned form, one that betrays her initial impressions as a helpless little merchant woman. She has a narrow waist, wide hips, and surprisingly broad shoulders.
Her face is angular, defined, with prominent cheek bones, full crimson lips, sharp, whispy brows, and striking chocolate eyes. Her nose is a subtle pale slope that sticks out prominently from her face. A small beauty mark punctuates the left corner of her lips. She sports a strong, chiseled jaw. Her hair is long and wavy, a gentle auburn like autumn leaves, usually bound in some sort of loose braid. She often smells of expensive perfume, a berry or floral fragrance.
---------------------------------------------------------
Clothes and Equipment: Viktoriya is a woman of lavish tastes. She certainly likes to flaunt her wealth, and unabashedly adorns herself with expensive clothing and accessories. Most of the time you can find her wearing some sort of flowing dress with frilled edges, long sleeves, and gorgeous embossed patterns, usually fabrics dyed a combination of royal green, regal white, and ruby red. Her head is usually adorned with a beautiful kokoshnik covered in precious gemstones and pearls, sometimes accompanied by a lace or silken veil. Her fingers usually sport a wide array of finely crafted rings, bangles, and bracelets. A collar of pearl and gemstone necklaces hangs from her neck. Like many among the hetamanate, furs become a common part of her outfit, usually cloaked in some sort of beautiful fur shawl or cloak made of everything from fox to sable. In cold weather or amongst her hetamanate comrades, she's more likely to be sporting a black sheepskin or red fox fur papakha. Rabbit or mink fur gloves are a common accessory in colder climates. Indicative of her hidden readiness in combat, Viktoriya usually wears pants beneath her dress, and can almost always been found walking around in a pair of sturdy leather boots.
---------------------------------------------------------
Unlike your typical tradeswoman of a more delicate culture or upbringing, Viktoriya walks the market clearly armed. A shashka hangs from either hip, red cord with frilled baubles hanging from the hilt of either blade. A Khanjali dagger is usually tucked away somewhere hidden but easily accessed on her person, a last line of defense, and something she can usually stow away if asked to disarm amongst her more cowardly business partners.
---------------------------------------------------------
Allegiances: The Hetamanate, Giant's Hand
Registered: Jul 10, 2019 16:15:24 GMT -8
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Post by Viktoriya Perekupnik on Jul 29, 2019 15:01:53 GMT -8
"The allure of a good deal would drive a greedy man to the depths of hell, this is how demons prey upon people with their infernal little contracts. I wouldn't expect a soldier to understand, your business is in staying alive, but for merchants, your livelihood very much is your profit margin. Lucrative rare goods are a far more valuable time investment than grinding away mundane trades, some people simply don't budget in the risk to their health and wellbeing. Money in more civilized lands makes you feel invincible, but here, your swordsmanship is of equal merit to your influence. I think foreigners struggle with the concept, unless they're like you, of course. I think many of the strongest here would struggle to best you, without preparations, anyway." She remarked, getting surprisingly philosophical in the moment. It was clear the woman had strong thoughts on the career which she claimed, somewhat showing an equal pride in her business prowess as she had in her people's history with warfare earlier.
The woman forged a wicked smile as the knight shared a proverb and remarked on the hunting of elves as fun, the centaurs as work. The adage itself resonated with her irrespective of the current context, prompting a generous nod from Viktoriya. "You bring with you wise words, work first, pleasure later. I'll remember that, Knight Lazar. As for the elves, I assure you few here will miss them. But of course, your problem in the south is the focus here." she reaffirmed, more than eager to focus on the burgeoning business deal that she felt was about to break between them. That tingling sensation started brewing in her breast, like lightning on her skin, she loved the thrill of a good negotiation. It seemed Lazar had similar feelings, and her friendly playful expression and gentler tone was swiftly replaced by a firm, stern focus and cordial, though commanding voice, though she would keep herself silent as the knight proposed his own course of action for them moving forward. Her lip twitched slightly as he continued on with his explanation, particularly when it came to the mention of payment. Something was nagging at her, and she would quickly move to make it clear, along with answering some of his other questions and suggestions with thoughts of her own.
"An arrangement between us will most certainly work, I have no intentions of sullying a deal after such a long career of successful deliveries, however...these terms simply aren't functional. To start I'll give you what I can agree to. For an estimate, I could easily muster one hundred to two hundred riders for the excursion, depending on what you think is necessary, I have little information on the population we're going up against so you'd have to fill me on more reasonable expectations. I may be able to rally more, but it would run at a higher rate if you needed numbers significantly greater than three hundred, or more time for recruiting, whichever suits you." she stated, occasionally pausing as her eyes wandered up, trying to approximate some calculating and account for what she could rely on through her connections in the Hetamanate. Her face would then harden, not with anger, but certainly with steely resolve.
"Where my problem begins is the idea of us collecting upon arrival. I personally have no real qualms with this, though you're an unfamiliar foreign organization so tracking you down if you decided to skip out would beg of me to ask for a retainer. However, I could see myself overlooking this as a kindness. The real issue in the men in question. I guarantee you no rider worth his sword would agree to ride all the way to the southern reaches without a portion of forward pay. This means you can either provide working capital for me now for hiring, or I can assume the risk of initial stipends myself. If you're asking me to assume the risk I would expect a substantial increase to my final pay out for putting my own investments on the line on your behalf, or a clause in writing to assure I would be paid back for anything I lost on wage thieves." she said flatly, her gaze unflinching from Lazar as she laid out the aspects she'd like to see renegotiated.
"As for future ventures, your suggestion seems more than fair to me, and honestly, bounty pay outs are something Free Men often find quite agreeable, so I have no doubt a good number of the warriors might stay to collect on that, so your additional costs there would be quite low if they prove necessary. If this contract works out I would have no qualms settling on another when it came to your next hunt, but I'm not going to definitively agree to anything before we see how this initial project pans out. I think that a fair caution, for the both of us, no?" she remarked, giving a firm nod as some of that friendliness from before returned to her expression, a slim smile creeping onto her lips.
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Lazar von Helsingfors
New
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Roleplay posts: 9
Age: 31
Physical Description: Large as most Knights, height musculature and shoulder width all being notable as for any Brother of the Sword. From behind his visor cold steel eyes can be seen on skin of a person with a shade typically darker but not given much sun.
Clothes and Equipment: The typical ensemble of blessed gambeson, chainmail and plate of most Brothers. Will have a rather large shield somewhere between kite and heater, and a very large arming sword. Beyond that, he'll carry whatever he can on his horse.
Registered: Jul 15, 2019 17:46:22 GMT -8
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Post by Lazar von Helsingfors on Jul 30, 2019 20:36:19 GMT -8
"Perhaps, perhaps." The Knight stated as response regarding Viktoriya's ponderings on the topic of what drive smerchants. Frankly he couldn't give a shit, he was a Knight and while perhaps Knights weren't all about Chivalry and the likes and had more than enough of their own unpalateable deeds (especially given what the two sides here were coming to agree upon) he really couldn't get into the mind of those who spent their lives trading. The idea of something being profitable meant that one of the two sides in an exchange was getting a better deal, and hence somebody was being on some hidden level a treacherous worm. He kept this to himself of course, and he doubted that even amongst his Brothers there would be many of those who would agree. Nevertheless, the world of mercantilism was likewise alien to the rest of the Knights present and as such they too didn't make any mental notes of what was said.
Unseen, Lazar's eyebrow rose as Viktoriya seemed eager to make a deal of some sort but then swiftly changed tone on the Knight's proposal. A deep exhalation came from the man, either a resigned and indulgent sigh, or a suppressed growl depending on interpretation of the sound. "I see." He said quite simply, fingers idly curling and straightening out. "Well, then let us begin resolving these issues. To begin, two to three hundred should more than suffice. Our enemy is numerous, more than a thousand in number. But a vast portion of them are not yet mature or on the inverse are elderly. Furthermore from what we know of their arsenal that their arms and armour aren't up to par for professional soldiers, and there isn't enough to go around for all of them. They will also be weary, underfed, and sickly from having so long travelled to escape the North sleeping perhaps an hour daily and all under open skies. Furthermore, they shall be disorganized, and most likely not prepared for pursuit so far south and as such disorganized; if the mercenaries perform well enough they should be able to pick off small unprepared bands of a hundred or so of the foe easily avoiding any losses whatsoever. These men should naturally have seeds so as to catch up to these hooved creatures and it would be best if they had bows, slings or javelin to pick off those that may try to run, while lance and blade would be excellent for the first charge; as previously remarked they have little of their crude arms and armour so more specialized weapons like maces shan't be necessary."
The Knight stopped momentarily to think, motionless save for the quiet heaving of his shoulders with each breath. "You drive a difficult bargain m'lady, but methinks you're well aware of that. So be it, you shall have your stipend to wet the lips of the sellswords." He swung his gauntlet in a circle prompting Brother Kuno to go to his horse, removing from it a long gold bar with one end seemingly having been damaged. As the Brother came closer a better inspection would reveal it had much inscription upon it; the work of Smiths giving their markings for proper documentation in trade purposes if Viktoriya had sufficient knowledge of the world outside Toragana. Bolko strolled forward too and flourished an axe, letting it spin idly in his hands. "Let us then agree on an approximate price for a single man hired, and then we can agree what the opening fee is. You can at will place your finger along the length of this here bauble and Brother Bolko will remove enough to satisfy the demand. I only ask for a 'all services included' pricing scheme, I would not at all be happy to realize I have to pay more than I bargained for with no recourse because the hundreds of men before me are all armed. It would be much more than five Knights sent forth if we too die." Lazar said.
"But yes, our future agreements of course depend on how this goes. Let us not prematurely envision bold ventures of blood and gold, it would make any disappointments all the more bitter." the Knight concurred, giving a nod in affirmation.
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Viktoriya Perekupnik
Established
Roleplay posts: 20
Age: 27
Physical Description: ---------------------------------------------------------
A woman whose striking appearance matches her extravagant personality. Viktoriya sports strong, almost untamed features, fitting for a woman who grew up on the dangerous outlands of the steppe. She stands at a slender 5'6", with a slim but toned form, one that betrays her initial impressions as a helpless little merchant woman. She has a narrow waist, wide hips, and surprisingly broad shoulders.
Her face is angular, defined, with prominent cheek bones, full crimson lips, sharp, whispy brows, and striking chocolate eyes. Her nose is a subtle pale slope that sticks out prominently from her face. A small beauty mark punctuates the left corner of her lips. She sports a strong, chiseled jaw. Her hair is long and wavy, a gentle auburn like autumn leaves, usually bound in some sort of loose braid. She often smells of expensive perfume, a berry or floral fragrance.
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Clothes and Equipment: Viktoriya is a woman of lavish tastes. She certainly likes to flaunt her wealth, and unabashedly adorns herself with expensive clothing and accessories. Most of the time you can find her wearing some sort of flowing dress with frilled edges, long sleeves, and gorgeous embossed patterns, usually fabrics dyed a combination of royal green, regal white, and ruby red. Her head is usually adorned with a beautiful kokoshnik covered in precious gemstones and pearls, sometimes accompanied by a lace or silken veil. Her fingers usually sport a wide array of finely crafted rings, bangles, and bracelets. A collar of pearl and gemstone necklaces hangs from her neck. Like many among the hetamanate, furs become a common part of her outfit, usually cloaked in some sort of beautiful fur shawl or cloak made of everything from fox to sable. In cold weather or amongst her hetamanate comrades, she's more likely to be sporting a black sheepskin or red fox fur papakha. Rabbit or mink fur gloves are a common accessory in colder climates. Indicative of her hidden readiness in combat, Viktoriya usually wears pants beneath her dress, and can almost always been found walking around in a pair of sturdy leather boots.
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Unlike your typical tradeswoman of a more delicate culture or upbringing, Viktoriya walks the market clearly armed. A shashka hangs from either hip, red cord with frilled baubles hanging from the hilt of either blade. A Khanjali dagger is usually tucked away somewhere hidden but easily accessed on her person, a last line of defense, and something she can usually stow away if asked to disarm amongst her more cowardly business partners.
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Allegiances: The Hetamanate, Giant's Hand
Registered: Jul 10, 2019 16:15:24 GMT -8
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Post by Viktoriya Perekupnik on Jul 30, 2019 21:30:34 GMT -8
She gave a curt little bow of her head as Lazar went about addressing her concerns and going on correcting or fixing them as best he could. She was quite thankful the knight was willing to barter, and it showed good faith that he took her thoughts seriously when it came to planning out what was to come, though whether this was out of respect for her or a fixation on succeeding in his quest to cleanse the southern steppe she couldn't really say. In truth, it didn't really matter to her either way, if he would agree to her terms whatever drove that action was irrelevant to a major extent.
"Excellent, I assure you the Free Men have a fairly rigorous training scheme, from birth one could even say, so anything but trained warriors should pose them little threat. The older among them also likely have a fair bit of experience with...dispatching...of non-combat units. The Free Riders employ lances and sabres, though a good number of men also train with bow from horseback, and I assure you, no man will hit that field without a horse, it's unthinkable in Toragana. I'll do my best to relay the details of the enemy as I recruit, hopefully the men will prepare themselves accordingly, this information is certainly a boon, far more than many contracts give us to go off of." she remarked, doing her best to assuage any worries Lazar might have about capability, whilst also acknowledging his needs and thanking him for the additional details. Details like this were actually quite enticing as a pitch, it sounds like an easy job, even to the rusty ex-cavalier herself. She may even join the battle, if it seemed things were going well after the initial charge.
A smirk crept onto her lips as Lazar mentioned her devious bartering, and that she would succeed in her negotiations for her wit. "Is there any other kind, Knight Lazar? I thank you graciously for agreeing to my terms, I promise you you won't regret it." she said with that wicked grin. The woman watched closely as a weighty chunk of gold was brought from one of the saddlebags. Viktoriya was quick to creep in for a closer look. Slightly damaged, but the seal seemed legitimate. She had limited expertise when it came to fine metals, but she knew enough to know a real inscription from a fake one. She then looked back to Lazar as he gave further instructions as to exactly what he was stewing with this unusual demonstration.
"Naturally, I have no great desire to con a group of men who most definitely carry more power than they appear. As for your typical wage...long travel, but low risk. The job itself shouldn't take us more than a few days. Most men are expecting a few gold a day...I'd say something close to 15..maybe 20 gold a man to see it through to the end, which'd make your cost about...4000 gold pieces, maybe more, if I can find more men. I'd recommend an initial stipend of 3 gold, that'd more than cover travel expenses there and back and their family expenses while they're gone, if the job were to go bust. It doesn't assume too much risk on our part either, for anyone slimy enough to take the money and run. Seem fairly priced to you?" she asked, her eyes searching upwards, brows tightly furrowed as she did her best to give a good estimate of what the labour costs would be.
She didn't address his final comments on their future endeavours, she'd made her point on that already and it seemed he agreed.
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