Genn Greymane
New
Roleplay posts: 4 
Age: 53
Physical Description: Greymane stands tall at six feet three inches and is built with thick sinewy muscles. Developed from many years of hard mercenary work. Despite his age, he stands with a strong and confident posture. A scar marks the right side of his face, on the cheek and just below his eye.
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Clothes and Equipment: Greymane doesn't bother with armor in most circumstances due to his transformations, and prefers regular clothes. Normally rich clothing with bright colors. Especially royal blue. It's his favorite color.
For his main weapon, he carries a large decorated claymore on his hip. He keeps a small thin dagger hidden in his right boot.
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Registered: Jun 27, 2019 13:12:16 GMT -8
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Post by Genn Greymane on Jul 3, 2019 12:03:23 GMT -8
Genn Greymane sat silent on the bench of the covered wagon, the beautiful Elizabeth Von Ravenholdt next to him. They could feel every bump and loose rock on the road under the large wooden wheels as they traveled. They were searching for a plot of land. A specific plot of land. Maybe something they could both settle down in. Good fertile land they could work to pass the time. They didn’t lack money. At least, Genn did not. A lifetime of mercenary work had set him up pretty good. Just at the cost of some physical scars and the loss of old friends.
Speaking of, his group, Greymane’s Pack, followed along with them. All fifteen of them on their own pack animals. Though this was like a retirement, they all stayed with him. They were family now, like a brotherhood. They went wherever Greymane went. The gesture did this old man’s heart some good.
The land around them was beautiful with small rolling hills covered in thick green grass as far as the eye could see. It was a nice summer day with a bright blue sky and the hot sun beaming down upon the group. They weren’t far from their destination now. Genn only hoped the owner wouldn’t back out after they’ve traveled on this way.
“So, what do you think,” he began, addressing Elizabeth next to him. “Wheat and hops for beer?” He asked, semi-teasingly and semi-serious.
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Elizabeth Von Ravenholdt
New
Roleplay posts: 5 
Age: 32
Physical Description: Violet eyes and ebony hair accentuates the nearly marble-white skin of Elizabeth. Groomed and cared for in excruciating detail, her features are well kept. A mixture of magic and alchemical means.
Elizabeth is shorter than average, around 5'4".
Clothes and Equipment: Mostly black accentuated with white. Her clothes are tailored and fit. She usually wears some sort of heeled boot, reaching to just above the knee, with lace stockings reaching nearly to her hips.
Upon her hip is a rapier, an elegant sword for dueling.
Allegiances: Isra
Registered: May 28, 2019 18:01:18 GMT -8
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Post by Elizabeth Von Ravenholdt on Jul 3, 2019 13:07:52 GMT -8
Elizabeth was preoccupied with the mystics swirling about her hand. A light blue hue, reminiscent of a comet, made rounds about her outstretched palm, the magic jolting with every bounce of the wagon. Though, it appeared that the further they went, the brighter the thing became. It had pointed them in the vaguely right direction.
She was searching. For a font of power. A magic well, of sorts. She knew of the leylines beneath the Overworld and their vast power, coming close to the crust in certain places. Tapping into that power would be a magnificent resource, for her research of the Arcane, and for the wine.
Lady Ravenholdt didn't answer right away, she just peered at the energy.
"It'll be a winery, dear." She stated matter-of-factly. "More sophisticated than your run of the mill brew." Glancing upward and back at the leyline compass, she nudged Genn. "Go more to the left, won't you? See? It's not opaque anymore."
She held it up for her companion to inspect, and it was indeed not transparent anymore, unlike the beginning of their journey. It shone dully, but it was better than the rudimentary image that graced them before.
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Genn Greymane
New
Roleplay posts: 4
Age: 53
Physical Description: Greymane stands tall at six feet three inches and is built with thick sinewy muscles. Developed from many years of hard mercenary work. Despite his age, he stands with a strong and confident posture. A scar marks the right side of his face, on the cheek and just below his eye.
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Clothes and Equipment: Greymane doesn't bother with armor in most circumstances due to his transformations, and prefers regular clothes. Normally rich clothing with bright colors. Especially royal blue. It's his favorite color.
For his main weapon, he carries a large decorated claymore on his hip. He keeps a small thin dagger hidden in his right boot.
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Registered: Jun 27, 2019 13:12:16 GMT -8
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Post by Genn Greymane on Jul 3, 2019 14:13:15 GMT -8
Genn gave the magic orb floating above Elizabeth's palm warily. He was no stranger to magic. Not in the least. But he still found magic, and magic users, incredibly unpredictable. He wasn't even sure what the thing was. Perhaps she was just practicing or meditating. He hadn't really been paying it much attention. His eyes had been glued to the horizon. Mostly out of boredom. He as a restless soul and not well suited for traveling.
He blinked at her blunt statement of 'fact'. He was well used to her personality by now. In fact, admired it. He loved a strong woman. And rare was one stronger than his Elizabeth. "Well, it'd be nice to have a cold beer once in a while," he grumbled silently under his breath. "Have all the 'sophistication' I can handle with your bossy ass," he muttered, jokingly, pretending she couldn't hear even though they were sitting right next to one another.
He yanked on the reins and pulled the two horses off the road and veered more left at her command. He took another look at the orb in her hand at her urging and did notice it had a different saturation. Not that he knew what any of it meant, but apparently they were on the right track according to it. "Yer not gon blow us up with that thing, are you?" He asked her in jest. "Also, maybe if you give it a kiss, it'll tell you how much longer we got. I know that always gets me excited."
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Elizabeth Von Ravenholdt
New
Roleplay posts: 5
Age: 32
Physical Description: Violet eyes and ebony hair accentuates the nearly marble-white skin of Elizabeth. Groomed and cared for in excruciating detail, her features are well kept. A mixture of magic and alchemical means.
Elizabeth is shorter than average, around 5'4".
Clothes and Equipment: Mostly black accentuated with white. Her clothes are tailored and fit. She usually wears some sort of heeled boot, reaching to just above the knee, with lace stockings reaching nearly to her hips.
Upon her hip is a rapier, an elegant sword for dueling.
Allegiances: Isra
Registered: May 28, 2019 18:01:18 GMT -8
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Post by Elizabeth Von Ravenholdt on Jul 8, 2019 12:51:11 GMT -8
Elizabeth gave her mate a sidelong glance at his abrasive whispers. Her violet eye traveled down his jaw, squinting at the white hair that grew. For a moment, she toyed with the idea of helping him shave, but she found out long ago that shaving a werewolf was a fool's errand. Instead, she playfully dug her elbow into his bicep, twisting her arm to make it hurt. It probably felt like a pinch to the beast that was Greymane.
Grabbing the armrest for support on the uneven ground, she felt every jostle and bump, and was glad she had invested in a feathered seat back in Isra. Again, she gave Genn a mildly irritated look, fixing her gaze forward.
"It's not that kind of magic, Genn." Elizabeth retorted, "And I doubt the thing will speak if I kiss it." Her eyes drifted away and to the trees, until a shimmer began to irritate her eye, bringing her attention back to her hand.
"But we are getting closer. We could break ground today if we hurried."
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Genn Greymane
New
Roleplay posts: 4
Age: 53
Physical Description: Greymane stands tall at six feet three inches and is built with thick sinewy muscles. Developed from many years of hard mercenary work. Despite his age, he stands with a strong and confident posture. A scar marks the right side of his face, on the cheek and just below his eye.
___
Clothes and Equipment: Greymane doesn't bother with armor in most circumstances due to his transformations, and prefers regular clothes. Normally rich clothing with bright colors. Especially royal blue. It's his favorite color.
For his main weapon, he carries a large decorated claymore on his hip. He keeps a small thin dagger hidden in his right boot.
___
Registered: Jun 27, 2019 13:12:16 GMT -8
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Post by Genn Greymane on Jul 8, 2019 16:13:46 GMT -8
Genn grunted slightly when Elizabeth elbowed him and returned her sidelong look with a feigned glare that turned into a cheerful chuckle. "You are so mean," he grumbled, but it was in jest. He flicked the reins on the horses to speed them up. They neighed in protest but sped up nonetheless. The roughness of going off the road was really felt now and the desire to let out a groan was a strong one. Genn's back was starting to ache hunched over in this wooden bench.
"Well," Genn said in response to her retort. "You can at least give me a kiss then, if the orb don' want none." He tapped his left cheek lightly with his index finger. He was trying to hide his half smile, but he failed miserably.
An hour later, the road was completely behind them out of sight, lost in the green horizon. How going off-road is quicker than following the route was beyond Genn's comprehension. He didn't necessary trust the magic, but he trusted Elizabeth. He let out a quiet sigh, eager for the journey to end. They've been on the road for a while. Genn tilted his head to the sky and sniffed. Even in human form his senses were extraordinary than a normal persons. Something was...off. Something strange. The scent itself wasn't strange, just the fact he was smelling it now, right here, was strange. It was the smell of death.
As they crested the hill, Genn saw it. An encampment of sorts, at the very peak of the small hill. It wasn't uniform, or professional. It looked like a ragtag bandit camp at first glance. In the center was a large pyre set aflame, lighting the dusky skyline. There were maybe thirty bandits inside of it. Just a rough guess, but Genn's been doing this long enough to learn all the cues. The size of the camp, the number of tents, the roving shadows on the ground with his sharpened eyes, and just the general aroma of it all. Albeit, the latter masked by death and charred flesh. There were bodies burning on the pyre.
Genn called a halt to everyone and looked to Elizabeth. His expression was neither of worry or fear, but determination. "Would you wait here if I asked?"
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Elizabeth Von Ravenholdt
New
Roleplay posts: 5
Age: 32
Physical Description: Violet eyes and ebony hair accentuates the nearly marble-white skin of Elizabeth. Groomed and cared for in excruciating detail, her features are well kept. A mixture of magic and alchemical means.
Elizabeth is shorter than average, around 5'4".
Clothes and Equipment: Mostly black accentuated with white. Her clothes are tailored and fit. She usually wears some sort of heeled boot, reaching to just above the knee, with lace stockings reaching nearly to her hips.
Upon her hip is a rapier, an elegant sword for dueling.
Allegiances: Isra
Registered: May 28, 2019 18:01:18 GMT -8
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Post by Elizabeth Von Ravenholdt on Jul 19, 2019 10:07:48 GMT -8
Elizabeth didn't respond to his remarks. Simply rolled her violet eyes, followed by a small sigh as she turned to her left, watching the trees roll by.
She watched her spell with depleting interest. It got brighter, but only in smaller increments, it was hard to tell in the day. Her eyes flicked away from it as Genn sniffed, and she furrowed her brow. Then remembered he was part wolf. Well, a werewolf. Sitting straighter, she peered about for what he sensed, craning her neck to find it. That's when the camp came into view, and she gave Genn an incredulous look.
"It's like you barely know me. I'm not waiting here." Elizabeth crossed her arms with a tiny hmph, staring back at her companion. She wouldn't wait like some damsel unfit for duty.
"I'm going." She huffed, before stepping down from the wagon, calling her magic to her hands, a royal purple swirling in magnificent, yet random, patterns.
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Genn Greymane
New
Roleplay posts: 4
Age: 53
Physical Description: Greymane stands tall at six feet three inches and is built with thick sinewy muscles. Developed from many years of hard mercenary work. Despite his age, he stands with a strong and confident posture. A scar marks the right side of his face, on the cheek and just below his eye.
___
Clothes and Equipment: Greymane doesn't bother with armor in most circumstances due to his transformations, and prefers regular clothes. Normally rich clothing with bright colors. Especially royal blue. It's his favorite color.
For his main weapon, he carries a large decorated claymore on his hip. He keeps a small thin dagger hidden in his right boot.
___
Registered: Jun 27, 2019 13:12:16 GMT -8
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Post by Genn Greymane on Jul 22, 2019 13:20:43 GMT -8
It was Genn's turn to sigh. "No," he responded quietly. "I know you all *too well," he retorted. Such a stubborn woman. Strong, but stubborn. He couldn't help but love her courage and strength, however, and, in the end, caught himself smiling. He tied the reins to the footboard and hopped off the wagon. By now, his pack had all seen and sensed the camp before them and were in the process of dismounting their horses.
"Fine, love," Genn said to Elizabeth, keeping his eyes on the camp as he began the trek up their hill, his pack following closely behind, weapons still sheathed. "Just promise me you'll stay in the rear and cast your spells from afar. You know how difficult it is for us to control ourselves during a bloodlust." He looked at her, concerned. This wasn't their first fight together. However, he always felt restricted, always worried he'd hurt her by mistake even though he knew full well she could take care of herself. Feelings of love were hardly logical, however, and so fret he did.
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