Alverein De Nelethas
Established
Roleplay posts: 47
Age: 687
Physical Description: Having lived through more than his fair share of trials in his life, Alverein appears slightly more weathered than the average elf of his age, appearing more towards his Middle Ages then he might otherwise. His hair is a mix of black and grey, the salt and pepper effect having barely come into contact with his beard. The very top of his left ear is missing and a cross-like scare marks his left eye, though thankfully he didn’t lose the eye itself.
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Clothes and Equipment: His usual outfit is a white shirt tucked into dark pants with his usual boots which are grey with elven glyphs worked into it in silver.
His weapons are storied blades in their own right, having existed long before he was even an idea, and probably continuing to do so long after he is naught but dust and half forgotten legend.
The Eclipse Blade, Teuvel Tel Fadien Teuivae: with a handle of dark iron bound in leather, and a scabbard of the same, until drawn Teuivae can seem like an ordinary sword of no great importance. Once drawn however it's magical nature is quite evident. The blade changes with the phase of the moon, variably seemingly made of a metal the color of moonlight and the night sky. The materials change the percentage of the weapon constructed as the moon waxes and wanes, becoming made of more moon-steel while waxing until being fully so on the nights of the full moon, and the shadowy stuff of night while waning until being fully so during a new moon.
The blade of Neverwinter has a cross guard shaped like the Sigil of the city who shares its name, both taking their name from the man who lead to the creation of both, an egg sized ruby being set into the iris on both sides.
The Neverwinter Shortsword: On his opposite hip rises the paired number of the blade, a shortsword created years after as much as a ceremonial twin as one for the battlefield. It shares a common look with its elder, though is not as distinct.
In his other hand more often than not however his black staff stands, a simple construction of wood so dark it almost seems to absorb light when it is not cracking with violet Eldritch energy.
His armor is an archaic custom creation of his, based off of several designs and made to provide equal parts defense and maneuverability for a magic user and crafted from mithral and materials harvested from a black dragon.
His cloak is of fine make, and lined with dark grey winter wolf fur. The natural abilities of the beast it's made from protects him from temperatures well below freezing.
At his back is his bag of holding, though you’d never be able to pick it out as magical from a dozen average satchels. Beaten and travel-worn, it’s been there more often than not, and he owes most of what little he has left to it’s magical depths.
The Key of Khrazan is what he owes for the rest of what he still has, when inserted into a door's lock and turned it opens a gate between that door and a pocket of space like a bag of holding that's 30ft wide x 120ft long x 30ft high. Inside is furnished with wood walls and a stone floor. Once the door is closed it will open back up to normal place it would access until the room is opened up from inside. If the door has been shut the only way to contact it from the outside world is by placing the key's matched doorknocker against the door and knocking with it.
He has several rings and a few other trinkets on him at all times, mementos from his former life.
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Registered: Dec 1, 2018 1:08:20 GMT -8
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Post by Alverein De Nelethas on Jan 2, 2019 9:04:31 GMT -8
Past the edge of a small crossroads town, around a mile or five down the road, one can find a large ranch with a rather reclusive owner. There were fields far and near, seemingly with no end beyond the horizon on one side, shaded forests on the other. All around you horses and harts slept and grazed in the sunny pastures, and passing field after field ran a weathered, cobblestone road.
The road stopped at a cluster of buildings surrounding a large traditional mansion after passing a simple welcome sign saying simply Andaran atish’an, enter this place in peace. The mansion is kept in pristine condition, just like the fields around it. A large dog naps upon the large porch, enjoying the rays of golden summer light. All sorts of flowers grew in the lush gardens next to buildings, and a steam coming from the forest feeds a pond at the back of the farm. The farm had a familiar feel to it, closing your eyes you could feel the sun rays on your skin, the gentle breeze through your hair, and you could hear the distant sounds of the quiet rural scene.
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Alverein De Nelethas
Established
Roleplay posts: 47
Age: 687
Physical Description: Having lived through more than his fair share of trials in his life, Alverein appears slightly more weathered than the average elf of his age, appearing more towards his Middle Ages then he might otherwise. His hair is a mix of black and grey, the salt and pepper effect having barely come into contact with his beard. The very top of his left ear is missing and a cross-like scare marks his left eye, though thankfully he didn’t lose the eye itself.
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Clothes and Equipment: His usual outfit is a white shirt tucked into dark pants with his usual boots which are grey with elven glyphs worked into it in silver.
His weapons are storied blades in their own right, having existed long before he was even an idea, and probably continuing to do so long after he is naught but dust and half forgotten legend.
The Eclipse Blade, Teuvel Tel Fadien Teuivae: with a handle of dark iron bound in leather, and a scabbard of the same, until drawn Teuivae can seem like an ordinary sword of no great importance. Once drawn however it's magical nature is quite evident. The blade changes with the phase of the moon, variably seemingly made of a metal the color of moonlight and the night sky. The materials change the percentage of the weapon constructed as the moon waxes and wanes, becoming made of more moon-steel while waxing until being fully so on the nights of the full moon, and the shadowy stuff of night while waning until being fully so during a new moon.
The blade of Neverwinter has a cross guard shaped like the Sigil of the city who shares its name, both taking their name from the man who lead to the creation of both, an egg sized ruby being set into the iris on both sides.
The Neverwinter Shortsword: On his opposite hip rises the paired number of the blade, a shortsword created years after as much as a ceremonial twin as one for the battlefield. It shares a common look with its elder, though is not as distinct.
In his other hand more often than not however his black staff stands, a simple construction of wood so dark it almost seems to absorb light when it is not cracking with violet Eldritch energy.
His armor is an archaic custom creation of his, based off of several designs and made to provide equal parts defense and maneuverability for a magic user and crafted from mithral and materials harvested from a black dragon.
His cloak is of fine make, and lined with dark grey winter wolf fur. The natural abilities of the beast it's made from protects him from temperatures well below freezing.
At his back is his bag of holding, though you’d never be able to pick it out as magical from a dozen average satchels. Beaten and travel-worn, it’s been there more often than not, and he owes most of what little he has left to it’s magical depths.
The Key of Khrazan is what he owes for the rest of what he still has, when inserted into a door's lock and turned it opens a gate between that door and a pocket of space like a bag of holding that's 30ft wide x 120ft long x 30ft high. Inside is furnished with wood walls and a stone floor. Once the door is closed it will open back up to normal place it would access until the room is opened up from inside. If the door has been shut the only way to contact it from the outside world is by placing the key's matched doorknocker against the door and knocking with it.
He has several rings and a few other trinkets on him at all times, mementos from his former life.
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Registered: Dec 1, 2018 1:08:20 GMT -8
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Post by Alverein De Nelethas on Jan 7, 2019 10:29:05 GMT -8
The sun was high and the weather warm, a cool breeze rustling the grass and the leaves as the horses and harts roamed the paddocks. Nix sprawled on his back in the sun, dreaming of whatever dogs dreamed of as a rhythmic clanging echoed from one of the smaller buildings accompanied by a smooth elven tenor.
“Hey O!
And a ringing and a dinging,
Rang from old iron!
Wily old iron!
With a beat and a bang
on the bones of the land,
I conquered wily old iron!”
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Seeker Dietrich Konstantine
Established
Roleplay posts: 24 
Age: Physical: 40
Physical Description: A hardened man, Dietrich is a devout man of the Church. Standing at six-foot-five with eyes of gold, turned when becoming a Seeker. His hair is still a chestnut brown, though is usually cropped short and hidden beneath his hat. His beard is little more than unkempt fur that grows longer about his chin and mouth.
Shrewd eyes are alert for the hints of Chaos, a hawk of the human variety.
Clothes and Equipment: His armor is richly decorated in writs of protection and battle prowess, especially his right pauldron, which holds his own marking. A long brown coat protects his body from the weather, worn over an embroidered chest plate, that protects him from physical attacks.
Two golden discs dangle from his neck, each anointed with powers to help Dietrich. One of protection, and one of detecting Chaos.
Across his chest is a bandolier of stakes, sharpened and blessed by Leandros.
Slung over his back, is his hand and a half sword. A double-edged blade with rich and intricate carvings of prayers, lined in silver and blessed by Leandros. Dubbed "Ashbringer", this swords specialty is being lit aflame by the wielders will.
Blessed Bolts are in his cards, holy lightning thrown from the hand.
Allegiances: Seekers of Leandros
Registered: Jan 2, 2019 19:43:37 GMT -8
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Post by Seeker Dietrich Konstantine on Jan 7, 2019 23:50:13 GMT -8
Long had his road been, weary of the unending travel of his work. At least he was not alone. A momentary glance at his Squire, Elizabeth, and golden eyes were once again placed forward. Voruta was an interesting land, one of many qualities he could get behind. Tipping his hat a bit more forward, he tried in vain to escape the harsh rays of the sun. The amulet about his neck hummed as it glowed slightly, tipping the Seeker of the presence of magic, something he did not expect in such a location. That is when he saw the sign, neatly written elvish. Whoever was in the mansion, they were most definitely odd.
Snapping his reigns and tapping the flanks of his horse, he picked up the pace, following the trail toward the front of the immaculate house. He glanced around, a faint metal clanging drifting to his ears. Pulling his horse to a stop a yard or two from the porch, he raised himself on the stirrups of his horse.
"Hello?" The Seeker called, "Who owns this property?"
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Alverein De Nelethas
Established
Roleplay posts: 47
Age: 687
Physical Description: Having lived through more than his fair share of trials in his life, Alverein appears slightly more weathered than the average elf of his age, appearing more towards his Middle Ages then he might otherwise. His hair is a mix of black and grey, the salt and pepper effect having barely come into contact with his beard. The very top of his left ear is missing and a cross-like scare marks his left eye, though thankfully he didn’t lose the eye itself.
------
Clothes and Equipment: His usual outfit is a white shirt tucked into dark pants with his usual boots which are grey with elven glyphs worked into it in silver.
His weapons are storied blades in their own right, having existed long before he was even an idea, and probably continuing to do so long after he is naught but dust and half forgotten legend.
The Eclipse Blade, Teuvel Tel Fadien Teuivae: with a handle of dark iron bound in leather, and a scabbard of the same, until drawn Teuivae can seem like an ordinary sword of no great importance. Once drawn however it's magical nature is quite evident. The blade changes with the phase of the moon, variably seemingly made of a metal the color of moonlight and the night sky. The materials change the percentage of the weapon constructed as the moon waxes and wanes, becoming made of more moon-steel while waxing until being fully so on the nights of the full moon, and the shadowy stuff of night while waning until being fully so during a new moon.
The blade of Neverwinter has a cross guard shaped like the Sigil of the city who shares its name, both taking their name from the man who lead to the creation of both, an egg sized ruby being set into the iris on both sides.
The Neverwinter Shortsword: On his opposite hip rises the paired number of the blade, a shortsword created years after as much as a ceremonial twin as one for the battlefield. It shares a common look with its elder, though is not as distinct.
In his other hand more often than not however his black staff stands, a simple construction of wood so dark it almost seems to absorb light when it is not cracking with violet Eldritch energy.
His armor is an archaic custom creation of his, based off of several designs and made to provide equal parts defense and maneuverability for a magic user and crafted from mithral and materials harvested from a black dragon.
His cloak is of fine make, and lined with dark grey winter wolf fur. The natural abilities of the beast it's made from protects him from temperatures well below freezing.
At his back is his bag of holding, though you’d never be able to pick it out as magical from a dozen average satchels. Beaten and travel-worn, it’s been there more often than not, and he owes most of what little he has left to it’s magical depths.
The Key of Khrazan is what he owes for the rest of what he still has, when inserted into a door's lock and turned it opens a gate between that door and a pocket of space like a bag of holding that's 30ft wide x 120ft long x 30ft high. Inside is furnished with wood walls and a stone floor. Once the door is closed it will open back up to normal place it would access until the room is opened up from inside. If the door has been shut the only way to contact it from the outside world is by placing the key's matched doorknocker against the door and knocking with it.
He has several rings and a few other trinkets on him at all times, mementos from his former life.
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Registered: Dec 1, 2018 1:08:20 GMT -8
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Post by Alverein De Nelethas on Jan 8, 2019 0:18:43 GMT -8
Alverein had just finished a batch of nails when he heard the man's call. He dumped the remainders into the barrel of water he used for quenching and grabbing a rag from the other. He was wiping his hands to clear them of grime as he walked around to the front of the house. A lean elvish man with a lean sweat streaked face, his graying hair pulled back into a ponytail, he was dressed in a soot stained white tunic, loose pants, and well made boots. He raised an eyebrow as he took in the sight of Deitrich and his squire, a rather unusual pair by most reckonings.
"Well that would be me I suppose." He said with a nod. "Though if you ask the land it'd usually claim it owns itself." He continued with a slight grin showing he was joking. "Do you need something or...?" He let the question trail off into silence. It wasn't exactly unusual for people to come to him for a horse or two but usually it was by referral.
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Seeker Dietrich Konstantine
Established
Roleplay posts: 24
Age: Physical: 40
Physical Description: A hardened man, Dietrich is a devout man of the Church. Standing at six-foot-five with eyes of gold, turned when becoming a Seeker. His hair is still a chestnut brown, though is usually cropped short and hidden beneath his hat. His beard is little more than unkempt fur that grows longer about his chin and mouth.
Shrewd eyes are alert for the hints of Chaos, a hawk of the human variety.
Clothes and Equipment: His armor is richly decorated in writs of protection and battle prowess, especially his right pauldron, which holds his own marking. A long brown coat protects his body from the weather, worn over an embroidered chest plate, that protects him from physical attacks.
Two golden discs dangle from his neck, each anointed with powers to help Dietrich. One of protection, and one of detecting Chaos.
Across his chest is a bandolier of stakes, sharpened and blessed by Leandros.
Slung over his back, is his hand and a half sword. A double-edged blade with rich and intricate carvings of prayers, lined in silver and blessed by Leandros. Dubbed "Ashbringer", this swords specialty is being lit aflame by the wielders will.
Blessed Bolts are in his cards, holy lightning thrown from the hand.
Allegiances: Seekers of Leandros
Registered: Jan 2, 2019 19:43:37 GMT -8
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Post by Seeker Dietrich Konstantine on Jan 8, 2019 0:44:26 GMT -8
Dietrich raised an eyebrow back, though not nearly as elegantly as the elf. Dismounting his horse, he turned to face the elf, removing his hat and drawing his forearm over his face, to collect the beads of sweat. The hat was placed back upon his saddle, the horn serving to keep it in place.
"My squire and I are traveling the overworld in pursuit of dangerous magic and would be summoners of dark forces. By a wrong turn or a turn not taken, I've found your ranch. Now, say.." The Seeker glanced about the ranch, "Just what do you do upon this estate, sorcerer?"
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Alverein De Nelethas
Established
Roleplay posts: 47
Age: 687
Physical Description: Having lived through more than his fair share of trials in his life, Alverein appears slightly more weathered than the average elf of his age, appearing more towards his Middle Ages then he might otherwise. His hair is a mix of black and grey, the salt and pepper effect having barely come into contact with his beard. The very top of his left ear is missing and a cross-like scare marks his left eye, though thankfully he didn’t lose the eye itself.
------
Clothes and Equipment: His usual outfit is a white shirt tucked into dark pants with his usual boots which are grey with elven glyphs worked into it in silver.
His weapons are storied blades in their own right, having existed long before he was even an idea, and probably continuing to do so long after he is naught but dust and half forgotten legend.
The Eclipse Blade, Teuvel Tel Fadien Teuivae: with a handle of dark iron bound in leather, and a scabbard of the same, until drawn Teuivae can seem like an ordinary sword of no great importance. Once drawn however it's magical nature is quite evident. The blade changes with the phase of the moon, variably seemingly made of a metal the color of moonlight and the night sky. The materials change the percentage of the weapon constructed as the moon waxes and wanes, becoming made of more moon-steel while waxing until being fully so on the nights of the full moon, and the shadowy stuff of night while waning until being fully so during a new moon.
The blade of Neverwinter has a cross guard shaped like the Sigil of the city who shares its name, both taking their name from the man who lead to the creation of both, an egg sized ruby being set into the iris on both sides.
The Neverwinter Shortsword: On his opposite hip rises the paired number of the blade, a shortsword created years after as much as a ceremonial twin as one for the battlefield. It shares a common look with its elder, though is not as distinct.
In his other hand more often than not however his black staff stands, a simple construction of wood so dark it almost seems to absorb light when it is not cracking with violet Eldritch energy.
His armor is an archaic custom creation of his, based off of several designs and made to provide equal parts defense and maneuverability for a magic user and crafted from mithral and materials harvested from a black dragon.
His cloak is of fine make, and lined with dark grey winter wolf fur. The natural abilities of the beast it's made from protects him from temperatures well below freezing.
At his back is his bag of holding, though you’d never be able to pick it out as magical from a dozen average satchels. Beaten and travel-worn, it’s been there more often than not, and he owes most of what little he has left to it’s magical depths.
The Key of Khrazan is what he owes for the rest of what he still has, when inserted into a door's lock and turned it opens a gate between that door and a pocket of space like a bag of holding that's 30ft wide x 120ft long x 30ft high. Inside is furnished with wood walls and a stone floor. Once the door is closed it will open back up to normal place it would access until the room is opened up from inside. If the door has been shut the only way to contact it from the outside world is by placing the key's matched doorknocker against the door and knocking with it.
He has several rings and a few other trinkets on him at all times, mementos from his former life.
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Registered: Dec 1, 2018 1:08:20 GMT -8
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Post by Alverein De Nelethas on Jan 8, 2019 1:06:10 GMT -8
The last question made Alverein’s eyebrows rise in surprise. He hadn’t expected the man to be able to say with such conviction. He’d know the area had a band of witch hunters who hunted down necromancers and hedge witches but he hadn’t had reason to encounter them. He almost let out a dry retort but reigned in his sarcasm. He didn’t need a fight.
“I breed, raise, and train horses and harts. Finest in the area if I do say.” He said calmly, his face returning to a neutral expression. “Ready for travel, battle, work, whatever you need, I’ve got a horse for most occasions and professions.” He leaned against one of the fences and as he talked and a beautiful dappled grey horse quietly minced up behind him and licked his head. He reached back and up and patted the horse’s neck. “Umbra, I told you no more apples today.” The horse butter the back of his head with her snout and nickered before trotting off, causing him to smile briefly before he turned back to the pair.
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Seeker Dietrich Konstantine
Established
Roleplay posts: 24
Age: Physical: 40
Physical Description: A hardened man, Dietrich is a devout man of the Church. Standing at six-foot-five with eyes of gold, turned when becoming a Seeker. His hair is still a chestnut brown, though is usually cropped short and hidden beneath his hat. His beard is little more than unkempt fur that grows longer about his chin and mouth.
Shrewd eyes are alert for the hints of Chaos, a hawk of the human variety.
Clothes and Equipment: His armor is richly decorated in writs of protection and battle prowess, especially his right pauldron, which holds his own marking. A long brown coat protects his body from the weather, worn over an embroidered chest plate, that protects him from physical attacks.
Two golden discs dangle from his neck, each anointed with powers to help Dietrich. One of protection, and one of detecting Chaos.
Across his chest is a bandolier of stakes, sharpened and blessed by Leandros.
Slung over his back, is his hand and a half sword. A double-edged blade with rich and intricate carvings of prayers, lined in silver and blessed by Leandros. Dubbed "Ashbringer", this swords specialty is being lit aflame by the wielders will.
Blessed Bolts are in his cards, holy lightning thrown from the hand.
Allegiances: Seekers of Leandros
Registered: Jan 2, 2019 19:43:37 GMT -8
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Post by Seeker Dietrich Konstantine on Jan 8, 2019 11:55:48 GMT -8
The hunter did not really expect such an honest and non-incriminating answer from the mage. By now, his prey would have raised to the skies, chastising him about interfering with some grand plan. A bit gothic and pedantic if you asked him. He tilted his head to the side, showing the man that he hadn't foreseen this.
"Well, I suppose even the magically inclined need to do some honest work to strive by. My sincerest apologies, magi, I am overzealous at times, I admit." Konstantine had placed a gloved hand over his heart, a sign that his apology was actually heartfelt. "I did not expect it to be the selling of horses, though. War, you say? What is your starting offer for them?"
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Alverein De Nelethas
Established
Roleplay posts: 47
Age: 687
Physical Description: Having lived through more than his fair share of trials in his life, Alverein appears slightly more weathered than the average elf of his age, appearing more towards his Middle Ages then he might otherwise. His hair is a mix of black and grey, the salt and pepper effect having barely come into contact with his beard. The very top of his left ear is missing and a cross-like scare marks his left eye, though thankfully he didn’t lose the eye itself.
------
Clothes and Equipment: His usual outfit is a white shirt tucked into dark pants with his usual boots which are grey with elven glyphs worked into it in silver.
His weapons are storied blades in their own right, having existed long before he was even an idea, and probably continuing to do so long after he is naught but dust and half forgotten legend.
The Eclipse Blade, Teuvel Tel Fadien Teuivae: with a handle of dark iron bound in leather, and a scabbard of the same, until drawn Teuivae can seem like an ordinary sword of no great importance. Once drawn however it's magical nature is quite evident. The blade changes with the phase of the moon, variably seemingly made of a metal the color of moonlight and the night sky. The materials change the percentage of the weapon constructed as the moon waxes and wanes, becoming made of more moon-steel while waxing until being fully so on the nights of the full moon, and the shadowy stuff of night while waning until being fully so during a new moon.
The blade of Neverwinter has a cross guard shaped like the Sigil of the city who shares its name, both taking their name from the man who lead to the creation of both, an egg sized ruby being set into the iris on both sides.
The Neverwinter Shortsword: On his opposite hip rises the paired number of the blade, a shortsword created years after as much as a ceremonial twin as one for the battlefield. It shares a common look with its elder, though is not as distinct.
In his other hand more often than not however his black staff stands, a simple construction of wood so dark it almost seems to absorb light when it is not cracking with violet Eldritch energy.
His armor is an archaic custom creation of his, based off of several designs and made to provide equal parts defense and maneuverability for a magic user and crafted from mithral and materials harvested from a black dragon.
His cloak is of fine make, and lined with dark grey winter wolf fur. The natural abilities of the beast it's made from protects him from temperatures well below freezing.
At his back is his bag of holding, though you’d never be able to pick it out as magical from a dozen average satchels. Beaten and travel-worn, it’s been there more often than not, and he owes most of what little he has left to it’s magical depths.
The Key of Khrazan is what he owes for the rest of what he still has, when inserted into a door's lock and turned it opens a gate between that door and a pocket of space like a bag of holding that's 30ft wide x 120ft long x 30ft high. Inside is furnished with wood walls and a stone floor. Once the door is closed it will open back up to normal place it would access until the room is opened up from inside. If the door has been shut the only way to contact it from the outside world is by placing the key's matched doorknocker against the door and knocking with it.
He has several rings and a few other trinkets on him at all times, mementos from his former life.
------
Registered: Dec 1, 2018 1:08:20 GMT -8
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Post by Alverein De Nelethas on Jan 8, 2019 12:04:54 GMT -8
It was Alverein’s turn to offer an apologetic smile.
“I am sorry to inform you good sir that the sturdier war horses start at five hundred gold. I’ve got sprinters that aren’t as resilient but are faster and others that can just keep running all day and never falter that start at four hundred to four fifty.” He said humbly. “That of course includes a saddle fitted for that horse, a discount on any barding you would like to purchase that I would also fit for the horse though that would take time, and an offer to buy the horse back if you aren’t satisfied.” He rattled off, clasping his hands behind his back as he leaned forward slightly.
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Seeker Dietrich Konstantine
Established
Roleplay posts: 24
Age: Physical: 40
Physical Description: A hardened man, Dietrich is a devout man of the Church. Standing at six-foot-five with eyes of gold, turned when becoming a Seeker. His hair is still a chestnut brown, though is usually cropped short and hidden beneath his hat. His beard is little more than unkempt fur that grows longer about his chin and mouth.
Shrewd eyes are alert for the hints of Chaos, a hawk of the human variety.
Clothes and Equipment: His armor is richly decorated in writs of protection and battle prowess, especially his right pauldron, which holds his own marking. A long brown coat protects his body from the weather, worn over an embroidered chest plate, that protects him from physical attacks.
Two golden discs dangle from his neck, each anointed with powers to help Dietrich. One of protection, and one of detecting Chaos.
Across his chest is a bandolier of stakes, sharpened and blessed by Leandros.
Slung over his back, is his hand and a half sword. A double-edged blade with rich and intricate carvings of prayers, lined in silver and blessed by Leandros. Dubbed "Ashbringer", this swords specialty is being lit aflame by the wielders will.
Blessed Bolts are in his cards, holy lightning thrown from the hand.
Allegiances: Seekers of Leandros
Registered: Jan 2, 2019 19:43:37 GMT -8
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Post by Seeker Dietrich Konstantine on Jan 8, 2019 12:25:33 GMT -8
His hand found his chin as he took in the details of the prices, nodding along as the man went on, stroking his beard in thought. In various purses, he held gems and gold, looted from the denizens of the dark. Upon his horse, there was more, but the money was not his issue.
"I need a steed that will not balk at the fiercest of demons, magi, the hardier and steadfastness is worth the price. Running all day implies fleeing from a foe, and a Seeker will do no such against an adversary." He paused for a moment, hands coming to rest on his hips. "And the comfort of the saddle is also of the utmost importance, of course." He added quickly and quietly.
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Alverein De Nelethas
Established
Roleplay posts: 47
Age: 687
Physical Description: Having lived through more than his fair share of trials in his life, Alverein appears slightly more weathered than the average elf of his age, appearing more towards his Middle Ages then he might otherwise. His hair is a mix of black and grey, the salt and pepper effect having barely come into contact with his beard. The very top of his left ear is missing and a cross-like scare marks his left eye, though thankfully he didn’t lose the eye itself.
------
Clothes and Equipment: His usual outfit is a white shirt tucked into dark pants with his usual boots which are grey with elven glyphs worked into it in silver.
His weapons are storied blades in their own right, having existed long before he was even an idea, and probably continuing to do so long after he is naught but dust and half forgotten legend.
The Eclipse Blade, Teuvel Tel Fadien Teuivae: with a handle of dark iron bound in leather, and a scabbard of the same, until drawn Teuivae can seem like an ordinary sword of no great importance. Once drawn however it's magical nature is quite evident. The blade changes with the phase of the moon, variably seemingly made of a metal the color of moonlight and the night sky. The materials change the percentage of the weapon constructed as the moon waxes and wanes, becoming made of more moon-steel while waxing until being fully so on the nights of the full moon, and the shadowy stuff of night while waning until being fully so during a new moon.
The blade of Neverwinter has a cross guard shaped like the Sigil of the city who shares its name, both taking their name from the man who lead to the creation of both, an egg sized ruby being set into the iris on both sides.
The Neverwinter Shortsword: On his opposite hip rises the paired number of the blade, a shortsword created years after as much as a ceremonial twin as one for the battlefield. It shares a common look with its elder, though is not as distinct.
In his other hand more often than not however his black staff stands, a simple construction of wood so dark it almost seems to absorb light when it is not cracking with violet Eldritch energy.
His armor is an archaic custom creation of his, based off of several designs and made to provide equal parts defense and maneuverability for a magic user and crafted from mithral and materials harvested from a black dragon.
His cloak is of fine make, and lined with dark grey winter wolf fur. The natural abilities of the beast it's made from protects him from temperatures well below freezing.
At his back is his bag of holding, though you’d never be able to pick it out as magical from a dozen average satchels. Beaten and travel-worn, it’s been there more often than not, and he owes most of what little he has left to it’s magical depths.
The Key of Khrazan is what he owes for the rest of what he still has, when inserted into a door's lock and turned it opens a gate between that door and a pocket of space like a bag of holding that's 30ft wide x 120ft long x 30ft high. Inside is furnished with wood walls and a stone floor. Once the door is closed it will open back up to normal place it would access until the room is opened up from inside. If the door has been shut the only way to contact it from the outside world is by placing the key's matched doorknocker against the door and knocking with it.
He has several rings and a few other trinkets on him at all times, mementos from his former life.
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Registered: Dec 1, 2018 1:08:20 GMT -8
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Post by Alverein De Nelethas on Jan 8, 2019 13:51:30 GMT -8
“That won’t be a problem. Of course I’ll need to see the coin beforehand.” Alverein said with an apologetic look. “Then it comes down to where you are willing to pay along the gradient. I have horses ranging from the base five hundred to a few I won’t part with for less then Fifteen hundred.” He stated absentmindedly, pulling a ledger out of his bag and flipping through the pages. “So, what are you looking for?” He asked as he looked up from the leather bound record with a raised eyebrow.
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Seeker Dietrich Konstantine
Established
Roleplay posts: 24
Age: Physical: 40
Physical Description: A hardened man, Dietrich is a devout man of the Church. Standing at six-foot-five with eyes of gold, turned when becoming a Seeker. His hair is still a chestnut brown, though is usually cropped short and hidden beneath his hat. His beard is little more than unkempt fur that grows longer about his chin and mouth.
Shrewd eyes are alert for the hints of Chaos, a hawk of the human variety.
Clothes and Equipment: His armor is richly decorated in writs of protection and battle prowess, especially his right pauldron, which holds his own marking. A long brown coat protects his body from the weather, worn over an embroidered chest plate, that protects him from physical attacks.
Two golden discs dangle from his neck, each anointed with powers to help Dietrich. One of protection, and one of detecting Chaos.
Across his chest is a bandolier of stakes, sharpened and blessed by Leandros.
Slung over his back, is his hand and a half sword. A double-edged blade with rich and intricate carvings of prayers, lined in silver and blessed by Leandros. Dubbed "Ashbringer", this swords specialty is being lit aflame by the wielders will.
Blessed Bolts are in his cards, holy lightning thrown from the hand.
Allegiances: Seekers of Leandros
Registered: Jan 2, 2019 19:43:37 GMT -8
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Post by Seeker Dietrich Konstantine on Jan 8, 2019 14:21:44 GMT -8
The Hunter was already reaching for his main coin bag, holding the minted coinage of different empires across the overworld. Hefting it, he shifted it slightly so the metal within clanged against one another. Gems of varying sizes and variety were also contained within the bag.
"As I have already said, your hardiest war horse, that you are willing to part with. I do prefer a coat of black, if the combination is possible." Then he smiled, a rare sight, "Gotta keep with the color scheme, y'know?"
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Post by Grand Duchy of Voruta on Jan 8, 2019 15:45:46 GMT -8
The small party coming down the ranch lane way was common for Voruta in winter, in that they were bundled up in furs and they never rode alone for fear of getting lost and freezing to death. The hooves of their steeds echoed up to the front porch, announcing their presence long before they could be seen through the blowing snow.
But one bold, or daft based on one's own opinions, enough to be outside to watch for riders would've noticed that the furs they were wearing were much finer than the average commoner's, and the tack on their horses was much richer than what a normal rider could afford. And on top of that, the horses were something together different than the normal members of their breed, being deep chested, long and tall beasts, with eyes that shown with an all too rare intelligence.
Stopping in front of the barn, two of the riders dismounted and handed the reins of their horses over to the third, though it seemed that was a mere formality. Walking over to the others, they held back a few moments to see who this other buyer was.
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Alverein De Nelethas
Established
Roleplay posts: 47
Age: 687
Physical Description: Having lived through more than his fair share of trials in his life, Alverein appears slightly more weathered than the average elf of his age, appearing more towards his Middle Ages then he might otherwise. His hair is a mix of black and grey, the salt and pepper effect having barely come into contact with his beard. The very top of his left ear is missing and a cross-like scare marks his left eye, though thankfully he didn’t lose the eye itself.
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Clothes and Equipment: His usual outfit is a white shirt tucked into dark pants with his usual boots which are grey with elven glyphs worked into it in silver.
His weapons are storied blades in their own right, having existed long before he was even an idea, and probably continuing to do so long after he is naught but dust and half forgotten legend.
The Eclipse Blade, Teuvel Tel Fadien Teuivae: with a handle of dark iron bound in leather, and a scabbard of the same, until drawn Teuivae can seem like an ordinary sword of no great importance. Once drawn however it's magical nature is quite evident. The blade changes with the phase of the moon, variably seemingly made of a metal the color of moonlight and the night sky. The materials change the percentage of the weapon constructed as the moon waxes and wanes, becoming made of more moon-steel while waxing until being fully so on the nights of the full moon, and the shadowy stuff of night while waning until being fully so during a new moon.
The blade of Neverwinter has a cross guard shaped like the Sigil of the city who shares its name, both taking their name from the man who lead to the creation of both, an egg sized ruby being set into the iris on both sides.
The Neverwinter Shortsword: On his opposite hip rises the paired number of the blade, a shortsword created years after as much as a ceremonial twin as one for the battlefield. It shares a common look with its elder, though is not as distinct.
In his other hand more often than not however his black staff stands, a simple construction of wood so dark it almost seems to absorb light when it is not cracking with violet Eldritch energy.
His armor is an archaic custom creation of his, based off of several designs and made to provide equal parts defense and maneuverability for a magic user and crafted from mithral and materials harvested from a black dragon.
His cloak is of fine make, and lined with dark grey winter wolf fur. The natural abilities of the beast it's made from protects him from temperatures well below freezing.
At his back is his bag of holding, though you’d never be able to pick it out as magical from a dozen average satchels. Beaten and travel-worn, it’s been there more often than not, and he owes most of what little he has left to it’s magical depths.
The Key of Khrazan is what he owes for the rest of what he still has, when inserted into a door's lock and turned it opens a gate between that door and a pocket of space like a bag of holding that's 30ft wide x 120ft long x 30ft high. Inside is furnished with wood walls and a stone floor. Once the door is closed it will open back up to normal place it would access until the room is opened up from inside. If the door has been shut the only way to contact it from the outside world is by placing the key's matched doorknocker against the door and knocking with it.
He has several rings and a few other trinkets on him at all times, mementos from his former life.
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Registered: Dec 1, 2018 1:08:20 GMT -8
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Post by Alverein De Nelethas on Jan 9, 2019 8:21:01 GMT -8
Alverein rubbed his chin and considered the request, and was thinking through his current herds when the icy wind blew past him causing his to shudder slightly. It had been a mild enough day but the wind was swiftly changing that.
“I might have a horse or two who meet your request.” He said as he excavated his cloak from his bag and sling it around his shoulders in a practiced motion.
His gaze went past the seeker to the newcomers. Nobles. This could be good or bad. He hadn’t had any problems so far but he’d had his share of dealings with the “I acknowledge that is your price but I will pay you half and not a copper more” type in his old life to be wary. He nodded in their direction.
“Mae l'ovannen. What brings such a distinguished group to my door in such foul weather?” He called out to the new group.
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Seeker Dietrich Konstantine
Established
Roleplay posts: 24
Age: Physical: 40
Physical Description: A hardened man, Dietrich is a devout man of the Church. Standing at six-foot-five with eyes of gold, turned when becoming a Seeker. His hair is still a chestnut brown, though is usually cropped short and hidden beneath his hat. His beard is little more than unkempt fur that grows longer about his chin and mouth.
Shrewd eyes are alert for the hints of Chaos, a hawk of the human variety.
Clothes and Equipment: His armor is richly decorated in writs of protection and battle prowess, especially his right pauldron, which holds his own marking. A long brown coat protects his body from the weather, worn over an embroidered chest plate, that protects him from physical attacks.
Two golden discs dangle from his neck, each anointed with powers to help Dietrich. One of protection, and one of detecting Chaos.
Across his chest is a bandolier of stakes, sharpened and blessed by Leandros.
Slung over his back, is his hand and a half sword. A double-edged blade with rich and intricate carvings of prayers, lined in silver and blessed by Leandros. Dubbed "Ashbringer", this swords specialty is being lit aflame by the wielders will.
Blessed Bolts are in his cards, holy lightning thrown from the hand.
Allegiances: Seekers of Leandros
Registered: Jan 2, 2019 19:43:37 GMT -8
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Post by Seeker Dietrich Konstantine on Jan 9, 2019 10:12:52 GMT -8
Elizabeth had placed a hand on Dietrich's shoulder, warning him that people were inbound. He glanced about the ranch, then finally to the road, where the trio of finely dressed riders had come from. He had not stayed long enough in this land for him to recognize the standards of each noble house, he couldn't even begin to discern the group.
The magi seemed friendly enough with them though, glancing back at the caster for a moment, before fixing himself upon the trio once more.
"I'm sure everything will be fine, Elizabeth." He stated in a hushed tone, then raised his voice, "It is a good day to buy a horse, is it not, travelers?" Dietrich greeted them, seemingly unaware of the cold breeze.
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Post by Grand Duchy of Voruta on Jan 9, 2019 12:09:39 GMT -8
Stepping onto the porch, the first thing heard from the pair were mumbled greetings, mumbled by the thick scarves about their faces. There was clearly some hierarchy among the riders because one was consistently at the front and the other seemed to demure to him for greetings. The leader unwrapped the green scarf from around his face, revealing a bit of a ruffled mustache from being covered, and pearly white teeth showing a good diet and hygiene.
"Yes, indeed it is but the finest of days for buying a horse," sarcasm, though not mean-hearted in any way, practically dripped from his words. "I'm Lord Jakub Gediminas and this is my master of the horse, Darius" he briefly introduced himself, "And we are here much as Sir..." he let it hang, "insinuates. We need three of your finest horses, preferably of Vorutan stock, and would like to see your stud books for verification."
Though perhaps of a stretch wanting to see the stud books, it was imperative that he did so. Mainly so he could have peace of mind knowing that he was only sending the best the Duchy could offer, and perhaps to make sure that nothing illicit was going on in this establishment.
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Alverein De Nelethas
Established
Roleplay posts: 47
Age: 687
Physical Description: Having lived through more than his fair share of trials in his life, Alverein appears slightly more weathered than the average elf of his age, appearing more towards his Middle Ages then he might otherwise. His hair is a mix of black and grey, the salt and pepper effect having barely come into contact with his beard. The very top of his left ear is missing and a cross-like scare marks his left eye, though thankfully he didn’t lose the eye itself.
------
Clothes and Equipment: His usual outfit is a white shirt tucked into dark pants with his usual boots which are grey with elven glyphs worked into it in silver.
His weapons are storied blades in their own right, having existed long before he was even an idea, and probably continuing to do so long after he is naught but dust and half forgotten legend.
The Eclipse Blade, Teuvel Tel Fadien Teuivae: with a handle of dark iron bound in leather, and a scabbard of the same, until drawn Teuivae can seem like an ordinary sword of no great importance. Once drawn however it's magical nature is quite evident. The blade changes with the phase of the moon, variably seemingly made of a metal the color of moonlight and the night sky. The materials change the percentage of the weapon constructed as the moon waxes and wanes, becoming made of more moon-steel while waxing until being fully so on the nights of the full moon, and the shadowy stuff of night while waning until being fully so during a new moon.
The blade of Neverwinter has a cross guard shaped like the Sigil of the city who shares its name, both taking their name from the man who lead to the creation of both, an egg sized ruby being set into the iris on both sides.
The Neverwinter Shortsword: On his opposite hip rises the paired number of the blade, a shortsword created years after as much as a ceremonial twin as one for the battlefield. It shares a common look with its elder, though is not as distinct.
In his other hand more often than not however his black staff stands, a simple construction of wood so dark it almost seems to absorb light when it is not cracking with violet Eldritch energy.
His armor is an archaic custom creation of his, based off of several designs and made to provide equal parts defense and maneuverability for a magic user and crafted from mithral and materials harvested from a black dragon.
His cloak is of fine make, and lined with dark grey winter wolf fur. The natural abilities of the beast it's made from protects him from temperatures well below freezing.
At his back is his bag of holding, though you’d never be able to pick it out as magical from a dozen average satchels. Beaten and travel-worn, it’s been there more often than not, and he owes most of what little he has left to it’s magical depths.
The Key of Khrazan is what he owes for the rest of what he still has, when inserted into a door's lock and turned it opens a gate between that door and a pocket of space like a bag of holding that's 30ft wide x 120ft long x 30ft high. Inside is furnished with wood walls and a stone floor. Once the door is closed it will open back up to normal place it would access until the room is opened up from inside. If the door has been shut the only way to contact it from the outside world is by placing the key's matched doorknocker against the door and knocking with it.
He has several rings and a few other trinkets on him at all times, mementos from his former life.
------
Registered: Dec 1, 2018 1:08:20 GMT -8
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Post by Alverein De Nelethas on Jan 9, 2019 12:44:28 GMT -8
Alverein listened intently as the man talked looking amicable enough until the last request. He didn't like to let anyone look at the books, mostly because while they were immaculately kept he had various other notes and observations recorded in their pages that he didn't like other's he didn't trust to know. As he readied himself to talk his stance and expression changed, from relaxed farmer to the neutral reserve of a cautious noble at a delicate negotiation.
"I am happy to sell you some of my finest Sir, but I do not show the books to those I do not know, especially if they would insinuate that I would attempt to cheat someone as distinguished as yourself, without good reason. I can show you the notes I have for most of my horses, their training, their strengths, and their weaknesses, and I can tell you that Vorutan blood flows in the lineages of many of the fine mounts here but not all." He said, his old accent leaking though adding a crisper note to the words as he returned the man's gaze. "I can assume you were recommended by a previous customer, otherwise I doubt you would have made the trek in this weather to such an out of the way location." He continued with an effortless dignity. "Regardless let us all get out of the cold. I offer you all my hospitality, so we can enjoy the heat of a hearth for our bones and a glass of my finest to clear the road's dust from your throats before we discuss if I can help you." He finished, walking over to open the front door and a beckoning hand to welcome them inside.
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Post by Grand Duchy of Voruta on Jan 9, 2019 13:02:00 GMT -8
"Oh no, it isn't that we think you would cheat us," piped up the master of the horse Darius from behind the shoulder of Lord Gediminas, though Lord Gediminas appeared a bit more chagrined than his counterpart, "From our records we show that you've been licensed successfully multiple times and without issue on any of them. No, this is simply to ensure that we send the proper paperwork along with them. So if they do breed beyond the borders they can trace their paperwork back. Don't want a single colt or filly not knowing where they came from."
"And we assure you that many other studbooks do contain notes of a... 'personal' character, and they are disregarded without fail," Darius further countered. "And besides, maybe there could be other business worked out where it's a bit, uh, warmer eh?"
Darius practically jolted Lord Gediminas forward with an elbow, though he turned to view their third. One couldn't really be sure with all the furs and the distance, but one could almost bet that his shoulders slumped, and a sigh of resignation over the cold could almost be heard on the wind. Lord Gediminas looked back as well, and turned to Alverein, "Would you mind if our stable hand was allowed into the barn? I'd rather not have him freeze to death and retrain another. Too much effort and money, and I know his family personally."
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Seeker Dietrich Konstantine
Established
Roleplay posts: 24
Age: Physical: 40
Physical Description: A hardened man, Dietrich is a devout man of the Church. Standing at six-foot-five with eyes of gold, turned when becoming a Seeker. His hair is still a chestnut brown, though is usually cropped short and hidden beneath his hat. His beard is little more than unkempt fur that grows longer about his chin and mouth.
Shrewd eyes are alert for the hints of Chaos, a hawk of the human variety.
Clothes and Equipment: His armor is richly decorated in writs of protection and battle prowess, especially his right pauldron, which holds his own marking. A long brown coat protects his body from the weather, worn over an embroidered chest plate, that protects him from physical attacks.
Two golden discs dangle from his neck, each anointed with powers to help Dietrich. One of protection, and one of detecting Chaos.
Across his chest is a bandolier of stakes, sharpened and blessed by Leandros.
Slung over his back, is his hand and a half sword. A double-edged blade with rich and intricate carvings of prayers, lined in silver and blessed by Leandros. Dubbed "Ashbringer", this swords specialty is being lit aflame by the wielders will.
Blessed Bolts are in his cards, holy lightning thrown from the hand.
Allegiances: Seekers of Leandros
Registered: Jan 2, 2019 19:43:37 GMT -8
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Post by Seeker Dietrich Konstantine on Jan 9, 2019 18:33:34 GMT -8
"I am Seeker Dietrich Konstantine, ordained Templar of Leandros. My counterpart is my Seeker-Squire, Elizabeth. I am also here for a horse, which I believe we were close to closing the deal on." The last part of his sentence was said under his breath, pushed out of his comfort zone by the nobles, something he never really was in, anyway.
He had started up the steps behind the elf when one of the lackeys had mentioned the barn. Turning to his squire, he pointed towards it. "If allowed, please take our horses in there, don't want part of our deal to freeze." Then he turned back, climbing the last steps and crossing over the threshold of the house.
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Alverein De Nelethas
Established
Roleplay posts: 47
Age: 687
Physical Description: Having lived through more than his fair share of trials in his life, Alverein appears slightly more weathered than the average elf of his age, appearing more towards his Middle Ages then he might otherwise. His hair is a mix of black and grey, the salt and pepper effect having barely come into contact with his beard. The very top of his left ear is missing and a cross-like scare marks his left eye, though thankfully he didn’t lose the eye itself.
------
Clothes and Equipment: His usual outfit is a white shirt tucked into dark pants with his usual boots which are grey with elven glyphs worked into it in silver.
His weapons are storied blades in their own right, having existed long before he was even an idea, and probably continuing to do so long after he is naught but dust and half forgotten legend.
The Eclipse Blade, Teuvel Tel Fadien Teuivae: with a handle of dark iron bound in leather, and a scabbard of the same, until drawn Teuivae can seem like an ordinary sword of no great importance. Once drawn however it's magical nature is quite evident. The blade changes with the phase of the moon, variably seemingly made of a metal the color of moonlight and the night sky. The materials change the percentage of the weapon constructed as the moon waxes and wanes, becoming made of more moon-steel while waxing until being fully so on the nights of the full moon, and the shadowy stuff of night while waning until being fully so during a new moon.
The blade of Neverwinter has a cross guard shaped like the Sigil of the city who shares its name, both taking their name from the man who lead to the creation of both, an egg sized ruby being set into the iris on both sides.
The Neverwinter Shortsword: On his opposite hip rises the paired number of the blade, a shortsword created years after as much as a ceremonial twin as one for the battlefield. It shares a common look with its elder, though is not as distinct.
In his other hand more often than not however his black staff stands, a simple construction of wood so dark it almost seems to absorb light when it is not cracking with violet Eldritch energy.
His armor is an archaic custom creation of his, based off of several designs and made to provide equal parts defense and maneuverability for a magic user and crafted from mithral and materials harvested from a black dragon.
His cloak is of fine make, and lined with dark grey winter wolf fur. The natural abilities of the beast it's made from protects him from temperatures well below freezing.
At his back is his bag of holding, though you’d never be able to pick it out as magical from a dozen average satchels. Beaten and travel-worn, it’s been there more often than not, and he owes most of what little he has left to it’s magical depths.
The Key of Khrazan is what he owes for the rest of what he still has, when inserted into a door's lock and turned it opens a gate between that door and a pocket of space like a bag of holding that's 30ft wide x 120ft long x 30ft high. Inside is furnished with wood walls and a stone floor. Once the door is closed it will open back up to normal place it would access until the room is opened up from inside. If the door has been shut the only way to contact it from the outside world is by placing the key's matched doorknocker against the door and knocking with it.
He has several rings and a few other trinkets on him at all times, mementos from his former life.
------
Registered: Dec 1, 2018 1:08:20 GMT -8
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Post by Alverein De Nelethas on Jan 15, 2019 22:16:02 GMT -8
Alverein nodded and glanced between the squired and the stable hand with a nod.
"They'll probably be happy to learn the barn is heated as well. The horses should behave themselves." He said with a grin. "There is a small cabin inside it for the chance of getting snowed in, feel free to make yourselves comfortable. In the meantime shall we go inside gentlemen?" He asked with a quirked eyebrow. He'd lead them though the halls into a large sitting room with comfortable chairs and a large liquor cabinet from which he retrieved a bottle of brandy and offered glasses around.
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Post by Grand Duchy of Voruta on Jan 23, 2019 15:55:02 GMT -8
The pair followed behind the Alverein, but not before Darius turned round and waved their third to get the hells into the stable so they wouldn't have to haul a chunk of ice back to the castle. The possibly shrugged shoulders straightened immediately as the third led their horses into the stall. Again, though it would be lost to the wind, there was most assuredly a sigh of relief that it was indeed warm inside.
As they crossed the threshold the pair stopped for a few moments to shed themselves of their furs and coats, revealing richly woven linens with a namely green motif, probably due to the fact the Gediminas coat of arms was a golden tower on a green field. When they had finally disrobed and vacated the door, they gladly took the proffered glasses. "Thank you very much sir," said Jakub as Alverein filled his glass.
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