Tanis Imani
Established
Roleplay posts: 33
Age: 27
Physical Description: She is a petite woman with dark brown hair and green eyes, various normal marks such as freckles and scars. She is not the classic beauty, but she has her own beauty.
Clothes and Equipment: Robes
Sword/scabbard
Rucksack with:
Cooking gear
Climbing gear
Lighting gear
Etc.
Registered: Jul 24, 2019 14:26:53 GMT -8
|
Post by Tanis Imani on Jul 24, 2019 15:12:43 GMT -8
The home of Tanis Imani, set right by a bubbling brook in the quiet of a forest.
|
|
Rǫskva Bjalfidottir
Established
Roleplay posts: 10
Age: 23
Physical Description: ---------------------------------------------------------
Roskva lives up to her namesake, a woman of unusual physical stature, the embodiment of power and prowess. Standing at a stocky 6'1", with taught muscle, broad shoulders, and thick skin, it's not uncommon for those who encounter her to mistake her for a man, or speculate about a possible giant lineage. Neither of these assumption prompt a very favorable reaction from the woman.
Beneath furs and linen is an imposing figure. Roskva has a sharp nose with wide nostrils, the bridge marked by a small scar, with a slight curve to the left from a previous break. She has a square, stony jaw, and slender bow shaped lips. Cold, dark brown eyes, deliver a piercing gaze, this combined with her bushy sunken brows give the girl a resting scowl. Her hair is unkempt, a deep oaken brunette that falls just below the chin, usually pinned back behind her ears.
Her arms, legs, and abdomen are marked by scars from hard labor and battles past fought with man and beast alike. Calloused hands mark a life of rugged work. Her left forearm is marked by ritualistic tattoos, bands of runes which recount a passage from Hyndluloth, the poem outlining Freya's encounter with her sacred boar Hildisvíni. This weaves around a simplistic depiction of a boar's head and a wreath of tusks on the back of her left hand (Roskva is left handed).
---------------------------------------------------------
Clothes and Equipment: Jǫfurrheðnar, an article of clothing as much as it is a title. The boar fur, an intricately crafted totemic garb fashioned from the head of a boar and the hide of the beast's back, it rests upon the head and cloaks the shoulders in the thick bristly fur of the beast, symbolic of the inseparable link between a totemic warrior and their spirit animal, and the beast taking over the human form. Adorned with a wreath of thin golden strands and charms, tributes of Freya, which serve to protect Roskva from malevolent forces. tusks hang from thick leather straps on either side of the head and adorn the chinstrap of the boar head shawl, clattering hollowly with one another as they knock about. The boar is an uncommon and atypical fylgja, the bear and wolf are by far the most typical to embrace for a warrior, making her stand out among peers.
Beneath her Jǫfurrheðnar, a red surcoat over a tattered, blood stained pleated tunic, the simple armor of a peasant-born warrior. A thick leather belt wraps around her waist, providing a sheath for weapons and keeping the fabric of her tunic close to the body and out of the way. Simple cotton pants and boar leather boots cover her lower half, the boots accented with furred cuffs. She has a pair of rabbit fur gloves, though they're only worn in the cold.
Like many facets of Roskva's kit and history, her weaponry is unconventional. Rather than favoring the bow for hunting and battle, Roskva prefers to use javelins and a bearded axe, weapons which tailor better to her raw strength. The javelins are hand carved, usually carefully decorated with braided patterns, adages from the epics, and runes of power. These are carried in a leather bundle case, usually three or four at a time. Her axe has a long handle with a slight curve, made of ash wood, and wrapped in latticed leather chord which binds tightly around the knob and the eye. She also carries a small seax, though it's more often used for skinning and carving than combat, it has a leather sheath of it's own and hangs from her belt at the hip. Roskva has been known to brandish a dane axe in battle, though this is not part of her regular kit and is used only in large battles.
---------------------------------------------------------
Allegiances: Leifheim, Taingaard
Registered: Jul 7, 2019 7:39:08 GMT -8
|
Post by Rǫskva Bjalfidottir on Jul 24, 2019 20:08:03 GMT -8
The storm had rolled in quick, the clouds far more ferocious than she had anticipated, a heavy downpour marked by great claps of thunder as lightning cut across the blackened sky above in jagged white streaks. The god of thunder had been angered, or perhaps waged war above the clouds. In any case, it set an ominous tone for her journey forward, a trip she had only set out upon a week prior. The quick sweeping storm had left the typically vigilant huntress unprepared for an evening camp that would keep dry and warm. Her hides and tunic had completely soaked through, runnels of rain cascading off the boar tusks that adorned her head. The cold bite of night meant it was likely she would freeze to death out in the cold. Making a fire was out of the question, the leaf litter and ready wood was drenched from the storm, it would be no easy feat to spark a flame in that dampness. The discerning adventurer began to weigh her options, her teeth grit as she fought to maintain her composure, continuing to traipse through the forest, unflinching as droplets of cold wet rain bore down on her broad buffalo shoulders, each one cutting through the fur and cloth she wore like an icy dagger.
She weighed her options: she could take refuge in the warmth of a gutted carcass, however, she'd spent much of her strength hunting the stag now slung over her right shoulder in preparation for an evening meal, the wily creature darting back and forth through the dense trees, dodging her javelins with uncanny grace. Her hands shook from the cold, it would be hard to throw accurate shots if this was her plan to survive the night. The only other chance she had to survive this was to find more permanent shelter, a cave, or a hollowed tree trunk... It felt as though the gods were testing her here, as though they too desired to see her test her mettle as she toiled with the tasks of The Bloody Path. She would not yield, she had to see this through, she refused to stumble at her first hurdle. The woman looked down at the pale black markings which adorned her left hand, her eyes gently darting across the runes as she read the tattoo that snaked across her forearm. For the first time in a long time, she yearned for Freyja's guidance, a call for divine intervention. It seemed her patron goddess would answer the cries of her devout disciple as Roskva pushed on through the thinning trees, breaking through the treeline into a gentle clearing. The rain came down harder without tree coverage, but Roskva might have found her salvation in the gentle amber glow at the center of the field.
She let slip a breath she had not realized she held so tight, tension melting from her jaw and shoulders as a quaint little wooden cabin came into view, the glow of a fire inside seemed to suggest someone was home as well. The lumbering huntress broke into a light jog that came to a still stop at what appeared to be the front door of the cabin. She raised a leathery knuckle up to the door and hesitated a moment as a flash of worry flooded her mind. She didn't exactly look like the most reputable evening house guest. Slick and soaked with rain, her lumbering frame swelled to fill the entirety of the doorframe, her boar's head headress and draping soggy furs, an axe at her belt and a bundle of javelins slung over one shoulder, the other supporting the bloody corpse of a freshly killed deer. She looked like a marauder at best, a feral beast at worst. She grit her teeth once more, a grunt and a snort escaping as she sharply exhaled. She wasn't exactly rich with other options, she just hoped she could explain herself in time before the homeowner caved her skull in with a weapon of their own.
She rapped on the door, three firm but gentle knocks, her heart racing as she listened carefully for movement from within. People, she was terrible with people, and dealing with these uncertain circumstances cause her more anxiety than any bloody battle to the death.
"Ah..uh..excuse me. I realize it is late, and you're not likely expecting visitors...but I was hoping you might let me wait out the storm here. It is quite cold and..and I wasn't able to set up camp in time for the storm. I have little coin but I have...uh...dinner. I'd be happy to share with you. Please, I promise I'll be gone the minute the rain stops, I just..I'm on a trip and well...I don't exactly have many other options. I'm sorry, but could you please open the door?" Roskva called, her voice booming with each word as she spoke just below a yell, hoping her voice would carry through the wooden walls of the cottage so whoever was inside could hear her. She had sputtered out her introduction, she just hoped it came across more as desperation rather than deception. The warrior tensed, watching the door closely as she waited for it to open, hopeful for a friendly face, but expectant of a sword blade or spear tip.
|
|
Tanis Imani
Established
Roleplay posts: 33
Age: 27
Physical Description: She is a petite woman with dark brown hair and green eyes, various normal marks such as freckles and scars. She is not the classic beauty, but she has her own beauty.
Clothes and Equipment: Robes
Sword/scabbard
Rucksack with:
Cooking gear
Climbing gear
Lighting gear
Etc.
Registered: Jul 24, 2019 14:26:53 GMT -8
|
Post by Tanis Imani on Jul 25, 2019 7:10:08 GMT -8
Rain was always a comfort to her when isolation was starting to eat at her. It was rare that she got visitors, rarer still that it would be a stranger who happened by her cottage. She was glad for the sound of the downpour on the thatched roof in a rhythm of offbeats that caused her eyes to droop and a yawn to form at her lips.
She did not think of how she came to be in this remote cottage, a building that had started as a one room hut and she had built up over a period of several years with her own hands and tried to be respectful of her forest surroundings, using mostly already felled trees for the lumber and replanting the ones that had to be chopped down. Over the years it had become a beautiful retreat that made her happy to live in despite the fact that she was an outcast to the society she had been born into.
The sorceress was about to fall asleep when she heard the rap on the door and muffled speech that was garbled by the falling rain, and she took in a deep breath as she moved to her feet from the bed she'd been laying upon. She padded to the door at the top of the stairs and opened it, her eyes sleepy as they took in the massive form of what looked to be a warrior.
A dripping one at that.
She frowned and took a step back, gesturing for the woman to come in from the cold. "Stay here for a moment while I fetch a blanket," she said in her alto tones before disappearing and then returning with a large and very well loved quilt, offering it over. "Lay your wet things by the fire, wrap up and warm yourself." The woman's tones were dulcet as she spoke, soothing and soft.
|
|
Fiona Blythe
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 107
Age: 25
Physical Description: ==================================================
Quite attractive, which is quite the benefit of her public profession. High cheek bones, a sharp jawline and thin nose, soft cheeks, and a stunning outlook about her.
Her eyes are a warm green, and her skin on the paler side, but it is hard to tell if it's natural or just well applied makeup until closer inspection. Her hair drops down past her shoulders, and a dark, aged timber brown.
Catching one's eye is her goal, afterall.
She is of medium height and wonderfully maintained build, toned but soft where it matters.
Clothes and Equipment: ==================================================
In public, she can be seen wearing expensive dresses, low cut at the front, and perfectly tailored. As well as her modest jewellery, she wears a specific broach worn by those of her profession, the silver dove of the working women's union, a group of independant whores and escorts.
During her more clandestine dealings however, she wears an incognito set of clothes, featuring a tight pair of dark green greaves, soft and comfy boots that reach up her shins, a basic white shirt, a dark red vest with a handful of pockets, and a dark green hooded cloak that matches her greaves. On top of this, she wears a belt with plenty of pouches to carry her tools of the trade. Finally, a dark maroon scarf is worn over her pale features to hide her identity.
For weaponry, she carries a pair of knives, hidden away for her own protection, however she has also been seen with a seemingly basic bow from time to time. On her belt, however, she hides a small hand-crossbow, and just enough bolts to get her out of a tight spot.
Her tool belt contains many tricks of the trade, including lockpicks, a glass cutter, smoke bombs for a quick get away, and even a handful of stink bombs.
Registered: Jan 12, 2019 23:02:23 GMT -8
|
Post by Fiona Blythe on Jul 25, 2019 15:19:08 GMT -8
Rain! Of course it had to rain, that was the nature of the universe. Have one good week and suddenly mother nature decides 'nope, time to be miserable for a day or two.' Usually, Fiona enjoyed the rain, its relaxing to listen to, but only when she's in her or a client's apartment, sipping on hot tea and watching it come down from the windows. However, when she's on the road, travelling from an out of town job, it becomes the worst thing ever, especially out in the forests like tonight. The dirt roads quickly turn to mud, and even though the trees provide a little protection from the storm, the wind still blows right through you. If it wasn't for her trusty rain cloak, Fiona would have had to go back to town. Maybe that was a better idea regardless…
As she contemplates heading back, something catches her eye up ahead. Through the pouring rain, she can see an idle light just off the road, and as she gets closer she sees the distinct silhouette of a quaint little cottage. Salvation! At least, she hopes.
Walking very carefully along the road, hopping from stone to stone, and trying to stick to the shallow and drier parts of mud to avoid getting stuck, Fiona makes haste towards the cottage and hopefully somewhere she could dry off. The first thing on her mind is to double check her pack and make sure her belongings aren't soaked through, as last time she had been caught in a storm she had almost lost one of her nicer dresses. Thankfully she was able to salvage and fix it up good as new, but perhaps today she would not be so lucky.
Then thoughts of payment flashes through her head. Who would let anyone in for free? Thankfully, she's prepared for such dealings, having just been paid, and if money wasn't enough, she has more to offer. Anything for a night out of the rain!
Finally, she gets to the door, noticing the fresh boot prints along the pathway up. Good! Someone's home! Recently too, so perhaps they would be sympathetic to her plight. Wonderful!
She reaches out and knocks with a delicate hand. Knock, knock-knock knock, knock! "Hello? Is there anybody home? I would like to seek refuge from this dreadful downpour!" She calls out. "I will pay, of course! Oh, please help!" Her acting is actually rather good, pretending to be one of a helpless nature. She takes a quick moment to clean herself up, fixing her lovely brown hair now that she has a tiny bit of cover from above the doorway, and checking her make-up in a tiny mirror. Thankfully, she managed to avoid messing it up too much in the rain, all thanks to her hood.
The woman is a stark contrast from the previous house guest, standing shorter and skinnier, but far easier on the eyes. It's hard to see her form through her cloak, but her pale face and stunning green eyes peer through the gloom easily.
"C'mon… open up…" she mutters to herself as she begins to shiver.
|
|
Rǫskva Bjalfidottir
Established
Roleplay posts: 10
Age: 23
Physical Description: ---------------------------------------------------------
Roskva lives up to her namesake, a woman of unusual physical stature, the embodiment of power and prowess. Standing at a stocky 6'1", with taught muscle, broad shoulders, and thick skin, it's not uncommon for those who encounter her to mistake her for a man, or speculate about a possible giant lineage. Neither of these assumption prompt a very favorable reaction from the woman.
Beneath furs and linen is an imposing figure. Roskva has a sharp nose with wide nostrils, the bridge marked by a small scar, with a slight curve to the left from a previous break. She has a square, stony jaw, and slender bow shaped lips. Cold, dark brown eyes, deliver a piercing gaze, this combined with her bushy sunken brows give the girl a resting scowl. Her hair is unkempt, a deep oaken brunette that falls just below the chin, usually pinned back behind her ears.
Her arms, legs, and abdomen are marked by scars from hard labor and battles past fought with man and beast alike. Calloused hands mark a life of rugged work. Her left forearm is marked by ritualistic tattoos, bands of runes which recount a passage from Hyndluloth, the poem outlining Freya's encounter with her sacred boar Hildisvíni. This weaves around a simplistic depiction of a boar's head and a wreath of tusks on the back of her left hand (Roskva is left handed).
---------------------------------------------------------
Clothes and Equipment: Jǫfurrheðnar, an article of clothing as much as it is a title. The boar fur, an intricately crafted totemic garb fashioned from the head of a boar and the hide of the beast's back, it rests upon the head and cloaks the shoulders in the thick bristly fur of the beast, symbolic of the inseparable link between a totemic warrior and their spirit animal, and the beast taking over the human form. Adorned with a wreath of thin golden strands and charms, tributes of Freya, which serve to protect Roskva from malevolent forces. tusks hang from thick leather straps on either side of the head and adorn the chinstrap of the boar head shawl, clattering hollowly with one another as they knock about. The boar is an uncommon and atypical fylgja, the bear and wolf are by far the most typical to embrace for a warrior, making her stand out among peers.
Beneath her Jǫfurrheðnar, a red surcoat over a tattered, blood stained pleated tunic, the simple armor of a peasant-born warrior. A thick leather belt wraps around her waist, providing a sheath for weapons and keeping the fabric of her tunic close to the body and out of the way. Simple cotton pants and boar leather boots cover her lower half, the boots accented with furred cuffs. She has a pair of rabbit fur gloves, though they're only worn in the cold.
Like many facets of Roskva's kit and history, her weaponry is unconventional. Rather than favoring the bow for hunting and battle, Roskva prefers to use javelins and a bearded axe, weapons which tailor better to her raw strength. The javelins are hand carved, usually carefully decorated with braided patterns, adages from the epics, and runes of power. These are carried in a leather bundle case, usually three or four at a time. Her axe has a long handle with a slight curve, made of ash wood, and wrapped in latticed leather chord which binds tightly around the knob and the eye. She also carries a small seax, though it's more often used for skinning and carving than combat, it has a leather sheath of it's own and hangs from her belt at the hip. Roskva has been known to brandish a dane axe in battle, though this is not part of her regular kit and is used only in large battles.
---------------------------------------------------------
Allegiances: Leifheim, Taingaard
Registered: Jul 7, 2019 7:39:08 GMT -8
|
Post by Rǫskva Bjalfidottir on Jul 25, 2019 20:03:12 GMT -8
Roskva was surprised to see the door open not to an immediate assault, but instead a far shorter, well composed, if admittedly a bit tired looking woman welcoming her at the mouth of the cabin. This was certainly far from what she had expected to find within. Even setting aside the fact this poor woman had taken pity on her by hearing out her pleas, she had expected the door to open to someone more like herself. Life out in an isolated woodland cottage was far from easy, both on the body, and the mind. Most of the people she came across out in the woods were fellow huntsmen, foragers, or criminals hiding out in their isolation. This woman didn't appear to be any of the three, though as Roskva studied her appearance some more, this woman gave her a distinct impression, comparable to the druids who had taught her the art of animialistic channeling. Perhaps she was some sort of genius hermit, conducting her practice out here in the isolation and calm of the forest's heart. Whatever the case, Roskva certainly wasn't going to discredit her generosity on appearances alone, ready to cuddle up with some creep if it meant surviving the night. She was in many ways thankful this pretty, polite woman had answered the door.
The lumbering viking did her best to shake off some of the wet and wipe her feet on the grass just outside the cabin before stepping in, not wanting to make a complete mess of this woman's entryway. The water continued to stream down the creases of her clothing in little fjords, a drippy puddle slowly forming at her feet as she stood. She gave a nod to the woman's instructions and watched as she disappeared into the recesses of the quaint little home. "Thank you for this, truly. I realize this is less than convenient for you. Could I...have your name, if it wouldn't be too much trouble?" the huntress asked softly, her voice far more meek than her towering frame would suggest, now that she had no reason to bellow out her words. Her voice was gravelly, a deep pitch for a woman, but gentle, the start of every thought hesitant.
While her benefactor was off fetching blankets Roskva was quick to start removing her soaking wet attire, her boots and socks came off first, the boar's leather thoroughly soaked through. She left her boots by the door and tucked her socks into her belt to move them over to the fire, wiggling her toes, the skin wrinkled and pruned from the waterlogged boots. Roskva also left her javelin bundle at the entrance, leaning the leather pouch of wooden skewers up against the wall just next to the doorframe. She would graciously take the finely made quilt from the woman as she returned, and venture towards the fire at the homeowner's prompting. "My thanks, again. I'm in your debt. I uh...do not have a habit of being unprepared. In all honesty, I am...slightly embarrassed to be asking for your aid." she explained, lumbering her way over to the fire place. She took a hesitant glance at her host before beginning to disrobe, unfamiliar with dressing down in front of others.Before anything came off she set the carcass of her latest kill by the fire, a dry-bled deer, the thing was a clean kill, it'd need to be skinned and quartered, but it left very little mess as she placed on the wooden floorboards. Preparing some food was some pittance of payback for her host, but she'd need to get warm first.
With that, Roskva removed her clothing, paying close and careful attention to the boar's hide shawl and headdress that covered her head and stocky shoulders. As she removed the garment, she revealed her face in full. Short, scraggled black hair unfurled from the boar's head cap as she gently shook out her damp locks, hair falling just below her squared chin, her cold, dark eyes reflecting the flickering flames nearby. She stripped to her underclothes, which were damp but would dry quickly, revealing a body of thick taught muscle, rough, leathery skin, and marked with countless nasty, gnarled scars, some raised and red, others more like deep creases in the skin. She quickly cloaked herself with the blanket she'd been provided and lowered herself to sit as close as she could to the fire's edge, one knee up, the other leg tucked under her as she tightly wrapped herself with the quilt.
The frozen forest stalker had just begun to settle in and get comfortable when an unexpected, almost comical thing occurred. Another set of knocks started tapping away at the cabin door. She met eyes with her still unfamiliar host and shrugged her shoulders, indicating she had no idea or affiliation with whoever else had just wandered towards the cottage. "Maybe you should consider a bed and breakfast, seems like you'd have pretty steady patrons." The woman quipped with a sly grin, quickly picking herself up from the floor. She reached for her axe, which lay still clinging to her belt loop by the fire's edge. She gave a nod to the petite woman who'd let her in and gestured to the door, prompting her to answer it, Rosvka readying herself if this next wandering traveler had less than savory intentions. Providing some muscle for her storm sheltering savior was the least she could do.
|
|
Tanis Imani
Established
Roleplay posts: 33
Age: 27
Physical Description: She is a petite woman with dark brown hair and green eyes, various normal marks such as freckles and scars. She is not the classic beauty, but she has her own beauty.
Clothes and Equipment: Robes
Sword/scabbard
Rucksack with:
Cooking gear
Climbing gear
Lighting gear
Etc.
Registered: Jul 24, 2019 14:26:53 GMT -8
|
Post by Tanis Imani on Jul 26, 2019 16:44:49 GMT -8
It was not a usual thing for the sorceress to do; allow a stranger to come in because of the rain. Indeed, she must be tired, she thought, if she was completely fine with company… she, a woman who preferred nothing more than to be alone. It was better that way… better that nobody becomes her friend since all she knew was solitude. She nodded when the one who could be compared to an Amazon gave thanks. The smaller one gave an inward sigh that could easily be taken for a tired one, and she was about to descend the stairs into the cellar to get some things, only to be stopped short by the sound of the door being rapped upon again.
Tanis, who had not answered the question of her name right away, said, “I am Tanis,” over her shoulder just as she reached to open the door and let in another poor, wet soul. She backed away just as she had before and allowed the second person in and went to get a blanket for her as well. She repeated her name for the new person and said, “Get warm, dry your things.” She disappeared downstairs for a small amount of time, bringing up a basket full of vegetables, setting it near the hearth and a partial loaf of bread that was still mostly fresh.
She seemed to go into an autopilot state, completely within herself and quiet. Her eyes dropped or averted whenever she neared either woman. One way another, even still, they were both hopefully made to feel welcome despite the anxiety that fueled her engines. She did not sit still until they were both seen to until comfortable.
|
|
Fiona Blythe
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 107
Age: 25
Physical Description: ==================================================
Quite attractive, which is quite the benefit of her public profession. High cheek bones, a sharp jawline and thin nose, soft cheeks, and a stunning outlook about her.
Her eyes are a warm green, and her skin on the paler side, but it is hard to tell if it's natural or just well applied makeup until closer inspection. Her hair drops down past her shoulders, and a dark, aged timber brown.
Catching one's eye is her goal, afterall.
She is of medium height and wonderfully maintained build, toned but soft where it matters.
Clothes and Equipment: ==================================================
In public, she can be seen wearing expensive dresses, low cut at the front, and perfectly tailored. As well as her modest jewellery, she wears a specific broach worn by those of her profession, the silver dove of the working women's union, a group of independant whores and escorts.
During her more clandestine dealings however, she wears an incognito set of clothes, featuring a tight pair of dark green greaves, soft and comfy boots that reach up her shins, a basic white shirt, a dark red vest with a handful of pockets, and a dark green hooded cloak that matches her greaves. On top of this, she wears a belt with plenty of pouches to carry her tools of the trade. Finally, a dark maroon scarf is worn over her pale features to hide her identity.
For weaponry, she carries a pair of knives, hidden away for her own protection, however she has also been seen with a seemingly basic bow from time to time. On her belt, however, she hides a small hand-crossbow, and just enough bolts to get her out of a tight spot.
Her tool belt contains many tricks of the trade, including lockpicks, a glass cutter, smoke bombs for a quick get away, and even a handful of stink bombs.
Registered: Jan 12, 2019 23:02:23 GMT -8
|
Post by Fiona Blythe on Jul 27, 2019 7:57:42 GMT -8
Fiona's spirits soar as the door opens and she is… welcomed inside? Perhaps not entirely welcomed, the owner didn't hesitate to let her in, but she seemed a little off. Perhaps she's just not used to guests, considering how far out of the way her little cottage sits. All of this is beginning to make sense to Fiona, mostly as to why she isn't in the next town already, she must have taken a wrong turn and ended up in the boonies. No matter, she has been welcomed in, and now time to finagle a place to ride out the storm.
"Oh thank the heavens," she says as she steps into the home, just happy to leave the din of the pouring rain for the first time in what felt like hours. "I am in your debt," she says before giving Tanis moment to moment to introduce herself. "Thank you, lady Tanis. I'm Fiona, it's an absolute privilege to meet you, especially considering the circumstances.
She takes a moment to take off her rain cloak, revealing a slim, fit, and somewhat beautiful form underneath, as her traveling clothes seem to have been tailored to fit, so she must have some kind of coin. Then again, her clothing isn't flashy, so she can't be one of the elite bourgeoisie, surely, in fact her clothing's dull colours of greens, brown, and white, don't denote much status at all. However, the silver dove broach she wears on her belt may explain some things, at least to those that recognise it.
She hangs her cloak up on a peg by the door, feeling so much lighter and drier without it. It's an effective piece of clothing, one she's glad she made the investment in, as she finds herself only mildly damp around her shoulders, not enough to disrobe, for the moment at least. She takes a brief moment to take off her boots and an even longer moment to remove her long stockings, but she soon turns to the other ladies, revealing her beautiful green eyes, her well cared for brown hair, and a winning smile.
Fiona graciously accepts the blanket with a little surprise, finding the quick hospitality quite the nice change, and she quickly finds herself a seat by the fire. "Shocking weather out there," she says as she sits. "I cannot thank you enough, lady Tanis, your generosity and hospitality are exemplary. Please, if there is anything else I can do to return the favour, be it coin or any other form of compensation, I will gladly pay."
Her focus had been on Tanis for the majority of the time, and who could blame her? Between her looks and generosity, it was hard to give attention elsewhere. However, now her attention shifts to the huntress, and she can't help but let her eyes dance over her form. She doesn't get to meet a woman of quite Roskva's stature, and she found it almost fascinating. No doubt one of the thick skinned, hard fought, warrior cultured Taingaardians, but out here? In this weather? Interesting.
"Seeking shelter as well, or am I interrupting?" Fiona finally asks the Taingaardian. "If so, I'll be on my way as soon as the storm breaks, I assure you. I'm Fiona, by the way."
She drapes the blanket over her legs and points her feet to the fire, already feeling cozy. Even if it cost her more than a pretty penny, she already felt like it'd be worth it. Besides, if it's too much, she could just come back and steal the excess back later, but it probably wouldn't come to that. She isn't here as a thief tonight, just as a traveller.
|
|
Rǫskva Bjalfidottir
Established
Roleplay posts: 10
Age: 23
Physical Description: ---------------------------------------------------------
Roskva lives up to her namesake, a woman of unusual physical stature, the embodiment of power and prowess. Standing at a stocky 6'1", with taught muscle, broad shoulders, and thick skin, it's not uncommon for those who encounter her to mistake her for a man, or speculate about a possible giant lineage. Neither of these assumption prompt a very favorable reaction from the woman.
Beneath furs and linen is an imposing figure. Roskva has a sharp nose with wide nostrils, the bridge marked by a small scar, with a slight curve to the left from a previous break. She has a square, stony jaw, and slender bow shaped lips. Cold, dark brown eyes, deliver a piercing gaze, this combined with her bushy sunken brows give the girl a resting scowl. Her hair is unkempt, a deep oaken brunette that falls just below the chin, usually pinned back behind her ears.
Her arms, legs, and abdomen are marked by scars from hard labor and battles past fought with man and beast alike. Calloused hands mark a life of rugged work. Her left forearm is marked by ritualistic tattoos, bands of runes which recount a passage from Hyndluloth, the poem outlining Freya's encounter with her sacred boar Hildisvíni. This weaves around a simplistic depiction of a boar's head and a wreath of tusks on the back of her left hand (Roskva is left handed).
---------------------------------------------------------
Clothes and Equipment: Jǫfurrheðnar, an article of clothing as much as it is a title. The boar fur, an intricately crafted totemic garb fashioned from the head of a boar and the hide of the beast's back, it rests upon the head and cloaks the shoulders in the thick bristly fur of the beast, symbolic of the inseparable link between a totemic warrior and their spirit animal, and the beast taking over the human form. Adorned with a wreath of thin golden strands and charms, tributes of Freya, which serve to protect Roskva from malevolent forces. tusks hang from thick leather straps on either side of the head and adorn the chinstrap of the boar head shawl, clattering hollowly with one another as they knock about. The boar is an uncommon and atypical fylgja, the bear and wolf are by far the most typical to embrace for a warrior, making her stand out among peers.
Beneath her Jǫfurrheðnar, a red surcoat over a tattered, blood stained pleated tunic, the simple armor of a peasant-born warrior. A thick leather belt wraps around her waist, providing a sheath for weapons and keeping the fabric of her tunic close to the body and out of the way. Simple cotton pants and boar leather boots cover her lower half, the boots accented with furred cuffs. She has a pair of rabbit fur gloves, though they're only worn in the cold.
Like many facets of Roskva's kit and history, her weaponry is unconventional. Rather than favoring the bow for hunting and battle, Roskva prefers to use javelins and a bearded axe, weapons which tailor better to her raw strength. The javelins are hand carved, usually carefully decorated with braided patterns, adages from the epics, and runes of power. These are carried in a leather bundle case, usually three or four at a time. Her axe has a long handle with a slight curve, made of ash wood, and wrapped in latticed leather chord which binds tightly around the knob and the eye. She also carries a small seax, though it's more often used for skinning and carving than combat, it has a leather sheath of it's own and hangs from her belt at the hip. Roskva has been known to brandish a dane axe in battle, though this is not part of her regular kit and is used only in large battles.
---------------------------------------------------------
Allegiances: Leifheim, Taingaard
Registered: Jul 7, 2019 7:39:08 GMT -8
|
Post by Rǫskva Bjalfidottir on Jul 27, 2019 8:48:25 GMT -8
"Tanis. I owe you a debt, Tanis. I hope one day to repay it to you. I am Roskva, daughter of Bjalfi, of Hvílabrekka. If you're ever in need when venturing Taingaard, I implore you to seek me out, though I may not return there for some time." she remarked, making a dedication to the generous host who provided her a life line on her life's most important quest. To her, it may have been a mundane kindness, but to the dedicated warrior, it was a critical moment on her path. Not long after the door to the cottage opened and the choked up grip Roskva held on her axe quickly fell slack as an innocuous, relatively petite woman stepped in from the rain, posing no immediate threat to either of them. Fiona, she picked up on the name as the new arrival introduced herself to the homeowner.
Roskva stood stoic a moment, watching Fiona as she removed her wet outer wear, the quilted blanket hanging from her shoulders, now looking more like a cowl or a cloak than bedding as it draped over her wide frame. She would return to her seat at the fire as the other girl also made her way to sit by its edge, plopping back down in the same position she'd assumed earlier. Tanis was not long to join them, and she came bearing food. Vegetables and bread, it seemed a meal would be in order. Her hands had warmed enough to make steady work with a knife. She grabbed the fallen deer she'd brought in with her, pulling her seax from its sheath drying by the fire. The huntress made quick, dexterous work of skinning the animal and quartering the prime cuts. She wouldn't bother with getting every bit out of the carcass, not wanting make a mess of Tanis' home or concern either of the other women with the more brutal butchery work. Her focus was intense, eyes flicking back and forth, tracing the clean, effortless knife strokes. Her work was only brought to a halt by the sound of a voice directed her way.
Roskva raised her head, meeting eyes with the new arrival. her gaze flicked away as fast as it had found purchase, the stoic hunter flustered by the implication Fiona's question seemed to carry, intentional or not. A grumbling cough forced its way from her throat before she could form an answer. "Just a traveler who wandered in, just like you. You haven't interrupted anything." she stated firmly. She gave a nod as the girl introduced herself, though she already knew the name from earlier. "Roskva. Well met." she barked back simply, providing her own name to the girl.
Roskva's focus then drifted to Tanis. "I take it you weren't expecting this girl either, Tanis?" she asked, her eyes then returning to her task of preparing the protein for their impromptu meal. She did not raise her head again as she spoke, intent on finishing up quickly, pulling the hide of the deer clean from the meat, folding it tightly into a bundle so it would not make a mess of anything while it dried by the fire.
"Did you get lost in the woods? You don't exactly strike me as a forester." she asked, her words seemingly directed at Fiona.
|
|
Tanis Imani
Established
Roleplay posts: 33
Age: 27
Physical Description: She is a petite woman with dark brown hair and green eyes, various normal marks such as freckles and scars. She is not the classic beauty, but she has her own beauty.
Clothes and Equipment: Robes
Sword/scabbard
Rucksack with:
Cooking gear
Climbing gear
Lighting gear
Etc.
Registered: Jul 24, 2019 14:26:53 GMT -8
|
Post by Tanis Imani on Jul 27, 2019 20:51:24 GMT -8
She grabbed for the kettle she had already filled with water, setting that by the fire to get hot for tea, continued her quiet for the most part unless spoken to. “No, I was not expecting either of you,” she said to the two women at the same time. She was a loner, not someone used to being around people, which showed in her mannerisms quite a bit… an awkward glance here, nearly bumping into folks and so much more.
“Some coin would be useful, I wouldn’t say no to it.” She had such a quiet yet commanding voice, but not in such a manner as to come off rude or seeming to be one of those uppity folk. She moved to pull the kettle off when it was hot enough and she had tea steeping in no time at all. Her gaze never lingered for very long on either woman in all of her movements, her interest fleeting almost.
She poured tea into cups and handed them out, “Drink, these will warm you up.” Tanis did not pour one for herself as of yet but a cup was nearby in case she wanted to drink. She then moved, finally, to sit down on the side of her bed, for the cottage was all one room with a beam holding the roof up. There was a few chairs, one with a basket of knitting and weaving beside it, and one with some miscellaneous things tucked here and there.
There was a table where food was prepared and eaten, a wooden stand in the center with little jars of herbs and spices. There were herbs drying over the mantle and crystals scattered about that shelf and other things indicating her profession. The décor considted of things like lots and lots of colorful quilts and afghans, chests that were hand painted, the ceiling painted a dark blue with whitewash stars, lots of lanterns and a bunch of cushions to be taken advantage of, and a bookcase filled to overflowing with leather bound tomes.
|
|
Fiona Blythe
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 107
Age: 25
Physical Description: ==================================================
Quite attractive, which is quite the benefit of her public profession. High cheek bones, a sharp jawline and thin nose, soft cheeks, and a stunning outlook about her.
Her eyes are a warm green, and her skin on the paler side, but it is hard to tell if it's natural or just well applied makeup until closer inspection. Her hair drops down past her shoulders, and a dark, aged timber brown.
Catching one's eye is her goal, afterall.
She is of medium height and wonderfully maintained build, toned but soft where it matters.
Clothes and Equipment: ==================================================
In public, she can be seen wearing expensive dresses, low cut at the front, and perfectly tailored. As well as her modest jewellery, she wears a specific broach worn by those of her profession, the silver dove of the working women's union, a group of independant whores and escorts.
During her more clandestine dealings however, she wears an incognito set of clothes, featuring a tight pair of dark green greaves, soft and comfy boots that reach up her shins, a basic white shirt, a dark red vest with a handful of pockets, and a dark green hooded cloak that matches her greaves. On top of this, she wears a belt with plenty of pouches to carry her tools of the trade. Finally, a dark maroon scarf is worn over her pale features to hide her identity.
For weaponry, she carries a pair of knives, hidden away for her own protection, however she has also been seen with a seemingly basic bow from time to time. On her belt, however, she hides a small hand-crossbow, and just enough bolts to get her out of a tight spot.
Her tool belt contains many tricks of the trade, including lockpicks, a glass cutter, smoke bombs for a quick get away, and even a handful of stink bombs.
Registered: Jan 12, 2019 23:02:23 GMT -8
|
Post by Fiona Blythe on Jul 27, 2019 21:11:47 GMT -8
Fiona blinks and looks away as Roskva begins butchering the deer. Its not something she hasn’t seen before, but here? In someone’s home? Without asking first? That’s a bit odd, to say the least, and a little distasteful. But, soon enough, the deed is done, even if it did leave the smell of dead deer in the room. It’d pass soon enough, she reckons.
“Splendid,” the woman says as she gets comfortable again. “Glad I’m not interrupting then.” That also means she could potentially pay with something other than gold, but she wouldn’t suggest that first. “Lady Tanis’ generosity seems to know no bounds.”
She looks to Tanis as she speaks, listening intently to her host, as it is the polite thing to do, at the very least. She did notice that Tanis is indeed a little off, and definitely used to seclusion over being around people. She graciously accepts the tea and takes a good long sip, followed by a satisfying sigh. “That’s good, warms up the insides just right.”
“Oh no, I’m certainly no forester,” Fiona says, shifting her attention back to the burly lass, as she begins digging into the pack she had set down beside her seat. “I tend to stick to the cities, business is much much easier to come by there. I’m just moving between towns visiting some more rural clients, but I’m headed back to Isra. It does seem like I’ve taken a wrong turn somewhere though.” She soon pulls out a small sack of coins, and begins counting them. “Probably at the crossroads up the road. Must have taken a right when I meant to take a left. Or perhaps my map is wrong? I’ll find out soon enough.”
She stands once again, pulling the blanket off her lap, and walks towards Tannis, coin bag in hand. Her footsteps are curiously silent, and she walks with a practiced grace, this lady is surely a class act, yet she dresses so humbly. “Your home is beautiful,” she says as she approaches. Even though she prefers the hustle and bustle of the city, the small, quaint little cottage is still lovely, even if she would go stir crazy. She briefly wonders how Tanis doesn’t go nuts, but the amount of hobbies and curious items around make it obvious how she keeps herself occupied.
“Will one hundred coins settle the inconvenience of letting me shelter from the storm?” she asks, holding out the coin bag. “Please, it's the least I can do for such hospitality.”
|
|
Rǫskva Bjalfidottir
Established
Roleplay posts: 10
Age: 23
Physical Description: ---------------------------------------------------------
Roskva lives up to her namesake, a woman of unusual physical stature, the embodiment of power and prowess. Standing at a stocky 6'1", with taught muscle, broad shoulders, and thick skin, it's not uncommon for those who encounter her to mistake her for a man, or speculate about a possible giant lineage. Neither of these assumption prompt a very favorable reaction from the woman.
Beneath furs and linen is an imposing figure. Roskva has a sharp nose with wide nostrils, the bridge marked by a small scar, with a slight curve to the left from a previous break. She has a square, stony jaw, and slender bow shaped lips. Cold, dark brown eyes, deliver a piercing gaze, this combined with her bushy sunken brows give the girl a resting scowl. Her hair is unkempt, a deep oaken brunette that falls just below the chin, usually pinned back behind her ears.
Her arms, legs, and abdomen are marked by scars from hard labor and battles past fought with man and beast alike. Calloused hands mark a life of rugged work. Her left forearm is marked by ritualistic tattoos, bands of runes which recount a passage from Hyndluloth, the poem outlining Freya's encounter with her sacred boar Hildisvíni. This weaves around a simplistic depiction of a boar's head and a wreath of tusks on the back of her left hand (Roskva is left handed).
---------------------------------------------------------
Clothes and Equipment: Jǫfurrheðnar, an article of clothing as much as it is a title. The boar fur, an intricately crafted totemic garb fashioned from the head of a boar and the hide of the beast's back, it rests upon the head and cloaks the shoulders in the thick bristly fur of the beast, symbolic of the inseparable link between a totemic warrior and their spirit animal, and the beast taking over the human form. Adorned with a wreath of thin golden strands and charms, tributes of Freya, which serve to protect Roskva from malevolent forces. tusks hang from thick leather straps on either side of the head and adorn the chinstrap of the boar head shawl, clattering hollowly with one another as they knock about. The boar is an uncommon and atypical fylgja, the bear and wolf are by far the most typical to embrace for a warrior, making her stand out among peers.
Beneath her Jǫfurrheðnar, a red surcoat over a tattered, blood stained pleated tunic, the simple armor of a peasant-born warrior. A thick leather belt wraps around her waist, providing a sheath for weapons and keeping the fabric of her tunic close to the body and out of the way. Simple cotton pants and boar leather boots cover her lower half, the boots accented with furred cuffs. She has a pair of rabbit fur gloves, though they're only worn in the cold.
Like many facets of Roskva's kit and history, her weaponry is unconventional. Rather than favoring the bow for hunting and battle, Roskva prefers to use javelins and a bearded axe, weapons which tailor better to her raw strength. The javelins are hand carved, usually carefully decorated with braided patterns, adages from the epics, and runes of power. These are carried in a leather bundle case, usually three or four at a time. Her axe has a long handle with a slight curve, made of ash wood, and wrapped in latticed leather chord which binds tightly around the knob and the eye. She also carries a small seax, though it's more often used for skinning and carving than combat, it has a leather sheath of it's own and hangs from her belt at the hip. Roskva has been known to brandish a dane axe in battle, though this is not part of her regular kit and is used only in large battles.
---------------------------------------------------------
Allegiances: Leifheim, Taingaard
Registered: Jul 7, 2019 7:39:08 GMT -8
|
Post by Rǫskva Bjalfidottir on Jul 28, 2019 5:27:22 GMT -8
Roskva took the tea and downed it in a single messy swig, the warm drink soothing her scratchy throat and warming her chest as it snaked it's way down into the pit of her stomach. She brushed the back of her arm across her lips, and set the little cup next to where she had taken her seat. She certainly wasn't the most elegant woman in the room, cutting up meat for a meal and greedily sucking down what was offered to her. "Thank you for that, it really warms the heart. You have a good taste for tea." Roskva remarked, giving Tanis a gentle smile, which quickly faded as the warrior returned to the woman's mention of payment. "I have little in the way of coin...my family was...not wealthy, especially not in the end. I have only a few silvers to spare, I'm truly sorry for this. All I can really provide in my craft." she remarked, her shoulders softly sagging as she admitted to Tanis her incapacity to compensate her well.
Roskva returned to her task at hand. The dejected glare from Fiona did little to deter her from continuing. This wasn't a particularly uncommon practice back home, if anything, bringing someone a clean kill to make a meal of in her village was often seen as a generous gift. She moved her work with dinner over to the meal prep table, taking great care not to make a mess of Tanis' place as she did so. Roskva moved to her travel kit, producing a small cast iron pot. She would then wander towards the door, bringing with her the ungutted remains of the deer, which were quickly tossed out into the rain. The smell would be all but drowned out by the downpour, and the rain made quick work of filling her little pot, the pitter pattering of rain on the rough metal almost musical as she held it out in the storm from the doorway.
She turned to look at Fiona as she waited for it to fill, affirming her assertions about Tanis, though conveniently skipping over any more discussion of her arrival not being an intrusion on anything salacious. "Certainly. It seems we were both quite fortunate to come across a woman like her out here, there aren't exactly a lot of hospitable forest hermits out there. I believe it was the Gods who led me to this cabin." she remarked, looking to Tanis another moment, an appreciative smile on her face. As her pot filled with rainwater, the looming hunter closed the door and returned to the cottage's inner recesses, setting what would now be the base for her simple soup on the table.
her eyes drifted to Tanis as she turned to grab for a few raw vegetables from the basket she had provided them. "These are quite succulent, did you grow them yourself?" she asked, wondering if the homeowner would open up a bit more herself. Roskva made quick work of dicing and slicing the vegetables into little pieces, dropping them in her pot, along with a few choice cuts of the meat she had cleaved from the deer. She would've preferred to grill them, but a soup would keep longer, and she could more readily share it with the others. While no court chef, the steely warrior seemed to have prepared something semi competent, returning to the fire's edge to set about bringing the water to a boil and cooking her little impromptu meal.
As she returned fireside her attention turned to Fiona once more. "I take it you're a merchant then? Selling what, if I might ask? If you're heading for Isra, then perhaps we could set out in the morning together, if it suited you. I assure you you won't be lost at my side, but in truth, I could use some guidance and information when it came to the city itself. It might benefit us both, to travel together. Consider it, eh?" she remarked, tilting her head as she proposed the idea to the stranger. She needed to get to a foreign realm, Isra seemed like the easiest trek, but the warrior for all her strength had little idea what to expect or how to carry herself once she arrived, travelling with a native, or atleast a regular visitor, would be a massive aid in her quest. She hoped silently that Fiona would see as much value in the idea as she did.
Roskva gave an acknowledging grunt to the girl's comment on the house. It was certainly extravagant, atleast as far as the simple village girl was concerned, and full of all sorts of interesting little trinkets. "It's quite nice. Bought or built I wonder? It reminds me of a druid's secluded grove back home." she remarked, looking to Tanis to see if she had any comment on her home, or what it was she did out here. Roskva averted her eyes back to cooking as Fiona brought up coin again, mentioning offering a hundred coins which, save for them being coppers, would be a significant payday for a single night's stay. If she had money to throw around like that, she was certainly quite successful with her craft, whatever it was.
|
|
Tanis Imani
Established
Roleplay posts: 33
Age: 27
Physical Description: She is a petite woman with dark brown hair and green eyes, various normal marks such as freckles and scars. She is not the classic beauty, but she has her own beauty.
Clothes and Equipment: Robes
Sword/scabbard
Rucksack with:
Cooking gear
Climbing gear
Lighting gear
Etc.
Registered: Jul 24, 2019 14:26:53 GMT -8
|
Post by Tanis Imani on Jul 28, 2019 19:28:37 GMT -8
The large sack of coin was a surprise. "100 coins is... a very, very generous offer. But that much is not necessary." She took the purse and pulled out only a small palm full, about five coins at the most before handing the purse back. “And… Thank you. I’ve been here for a very long time and think I have made it quite my own,” she said and then looked to the other woman.
“I built it… I had some help in the beginning with the lumber, but I built it. I grew the vegetables and the herbs, the spices were in trade from the various people that pass through.” There was a certain pride she took in the cottage. “I might be alone out here, but you two are not the first to stop by in their travels. It happens on occasion. Sometimes there are those like you who mean no ill intent… I hope in your cases anyways… and then others… Well… I would not let them in and they would best not try. My… spells aren’t exactly as they should be, I’d hate to add to the collection of frogs and toads I have milling about…”
She moved to clean up the little bit of mess left from preparing the meat, and she tossed sage into the fire to cleanse the air of that distinct smell of game and death. Her robes gave an ethereal quality to her movements and helped to swish the air about and soon made the interior smell lovely.
“I probably should start an inn, but then I am not used to being around people. I haven’t been for a very long time. I mean… on a permanent basis that is. As I said, there are those who come around during their travels.” She poured herself some tea and sipped.
|
|
Fiona Blythe
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 107
Age: 25
Physical Description: ==================================================
Quite attractive, which is quite the benefit of her public profession. High cheek bones, a sharp jawline and thin nose, soft cheeks, and a stunning outlook about her.
Her eyes are a warm green, and her skin on the paler side, but it is hard to tell if it's natural or just well applied makeup until closer inspection. Her hair drops down past her shoulders, and a dark, aged timber brown.
Catching one's eye is her goal, afterall.
She is of medium height and wonderfully maintained build, toned but soft where it matters.
Clothes and Equipment: ==================================================
In public, she can be seen wearing expensive dresses, low cut at the front, and perfectly tailored. As well as her modest jewellery, she wears a specific broach worn by those of her profession, the silver dove of the working women's union, a group of independant whores and escorts.
During her more clandestine dealings however, she wears an incognito set of clothes, featuring a tight pair of dark green greaves, soft and comfy boots that reach up her shins, a basic white shirt, a dark red vest with a handful of pockets, and a dark green hooded cloak that matches her greaves. On top of this, she wears a belt with plenty of pouches to carry her tools of the trade. Finally, a dark maroon scarf is worn over her pale features to hide her identity.
For weaponry, she carries a pair of knives, hidden away for her own protection, however she has also been seen with a seemingly basic bow from time to time. On her belt, however, she hides a small hand-crossbow, and just enough bolts to get her out of a tight spot.
Her tool belt contains many tricks of the trade, including lockpicks, a glass cutter, smoke bombs for a quick get away, and even a handful of stink bombs.
Registered: Jan 12, 2019 23:02:23 GMT -8
|
Post by Fiona Blythe on Jul 29, 2019 23:45:43 GMT -8
Fiona lights up when Tanis only takes a pittance from her coin bag, even if they were some of the gold coins. A lot of it were silvers, with several coppers, by gold made up for a hefty sum of the bag. Fiona obviously does well for herself. "Very well, thank you, again." She gingerly lifts the coin bag once more and heads back to her packs, where she deposits her cash. Should be safe in there for the night.
"You have an eye for good construction," she says as she looks back to Tanis, still standing. "I mean it when I say this place is lovely, I bet it more than paid for itself over time. A place like this can stand for decades." What does she know about construction? To be fair, not much, but she knows a strong looking building when she sees one, mostly by spotting places where she can break into them.
She picks up her blanket and holds it close for a moment as she listens to her host. "No ill intentions here," she says, which is the truth for once. "I'm just looking to ride out the storm, much like Roskva here, I assume." Spells, she has almost guessed as much, but it was nice to have things confirmed. Best not cross her, she can remember the last time she tangled with a wizard, and she barely made it out. It was worth it though, she made a fortune on a 'spell book', which turned out to be the wizard's favourite cook book. It's the one her buyer asked for, by name, so it certainly wasn't her mistake.
She lowers the blanket a little to reveal her smile before chuckling lightly. "Out here I'm not sure you'd make much as an inn. I dare say our arrival here is by mere chance."
Finally, she turns her attention to the burly northlander, finding her words a little amusing, really. "Merchant? You could say that," she says with a cheeky smirk. "No, I'm a silver doved woman. A courtesan, and I usually trade in myself," she explains as she gestures to her fine figured self. "Sometimes as company and companionship, but mostly for pleasure." She sits back down and crosses one leg over the other before putting her blanket back on. "And yes! I know the city very well, and I would gladly be your guide in exchange for your help once the weather clears."
|
|
Rǫskva Bjalfidottir
Established
Roleplay posts: 10
Age: 23
Physical Description: ---------------------------------------------------------
Roskva lives up to her namesake, a woman of unusual physical stature, the embodiment of power and prowess. Standing at a stocky 6'1", with taught muscle, broad shoulders, and thick skin, it's not uncommon for those who encounter her to mistake her for a man, or speculate about a possible giant lineage. Neither of these assumption prompt a very favorable reaction from the woman.
Beneath furs and linen is an imposing figure. Roskva has a sharp nose with wide nostrils, the bridge marked by a small scar, with a slight curve to the left from a previous break. She has a square, stony jaw, and slender bow shaped lips. Cold, dark brown eyes, deliver a piercing gaze, this combined with her bushy sunken brows give the girl a resting scowl. Her hair is unkempt, a deep oaken brunette that falls just below the chin, usually pinned back behind her ears.
Her arms, legs, and abdomen are marked by scars from hard labor and battles past fought with man and beast alike. Calloused hands mark a life of rugged work. Her left forearm is marked by ritualistic tattoos, bands of runes which recount a passage from Hyndluloth, the poem outlining Freya's encounter with her sacred boar Hildisvíni. This weaves around a simplistic depiction of a boar's head and a wreath of tusks on the back of her left hand (Roskva is left handed).
---------------------------------------------------------
Clothes and Equipment: Jǫfurrheðnar, an article of clothing as much as it is a title. The boar fur, an intricately crafted totemic garb fashioned from the head of a boar and the hide of the beast's back, it rests upon the head and cloaks the shoulders in the thick bristly fur of the beast, symbolic of the inseparable link between a totemic warrior and their spirit animal, and the beast taking over the human form. Adorned with a wreath of thin golden strands and charms, tributes of Freya, which serve to protect Roskva from malevolent forces. tusks hang from thick leather straps on either side of the head and adorn the chinstrap of the boar head shawl, clattering hollowly with one another as they knock about. The boar is an uncommon and atypical fylgja, the bear and wolf are by far the most typical to embrace for a warrior, making her stand out among peers.
Beneath her Jǫfurrheðnar, a red surcoat over a tattered, blood stained pleated tunic, the simple armor of a peasant-born warrior. A thick leather belt wraps around her waist, providing a sheath for weapons and keeping the fabric of her tunic close to the body and out of the way. Simple cotton pants and boar leather boots cover her lower half, the boots accented with furred cuffs. She has a pair of rabbit fur gloves, though they're only worn in the cold.
Like many facets of Roskva's kit and history, her weaponry is unconventional. Rather than favoring the bow for hunting and battle, Roskva prefers to use javelins and a bearded axe, weapons which tailor better to her raw strength. The javelins are hand carved, usually carefully decorated with braided patterns, adages from the epics, and runes of power. These are carried in a leather bundle case, usually three or four at a time. Her axe has a long handle with a slight curve, made of ash wood, and wrapped in latticed leather chord which binds tightly around the knob and the eye. She also carries a small seax, though it's more often used for skinning and carving than combat, it has a leather sheath of it's own and hangs from her belt at the hip. Roskva has been known to brandish a dane axe in battle, though this is not part of her regular kit and is used only in large battles.
---------------------------------------------------------
Allegiances: Leifheim, Taingaard
Registered: Jul 7, 2019 7:39:08 GMT -8
|
Post by Rǫskva Bjalfidottir on Jul 30, 2019 11:52:12 GMT -8
The soup she'd been preparing, for all the hassle it had been, was finally beginning to cook. She hoped it would be worth it, at the very least, she would eat it unabashedly. She had been starving for a hearty meal, and it had been a long while since she had vegetables that weren't just scavenged wild growth. She pulled the pot from the flame and set it gently beside the hearth, reaching over for the tankard tucked tightly in her travel kit, she scooped herself a cup and began drinking, nodding to the pot with a grumble as the other two were sorting out their money. "Help yourselves, this is really the best I can offer here. I haven't had a chance to sell any furs in a long while, and well...my family didn't exactly have much left when the village started falling apart. Forgive me Tanis, I'll return with something more worthwhile at some point." she remarked, dutifully dedicated to repaying those who had helped her on her journey, the Tain, Tanis, her dues list was already starting to rack up. Whatever the cost, she couldn't fail.
Roskva let a sharp whistle through her lips as Tanis mentioned both building her own home and growing a verdant garden of impressive herbs and ripe vegetables. "You've got a real talent for homesteading Tanis, you would make someone a very lucky husband, or a wife, if that's your fancy." she remarked with a breathy laugh, taking another swig of soup. Roskva's eyes widened as the woman made mention of turning her less savory house guests into frogs, or that was the implication anyway. It seemed her druid comparisons were far more accurate than she originally thought. Roskva gave a vigorous nod as Fiona asserted her peaceful intentions. "No ill will from me, far from it. I have a great respect for talented mages, and you've been a gracious host." she said, waving a dismissive hand as she tried to assuage any potential concerns Tanis had about her, not particularly fond of the idea of being a slimy little amphibian.
Roskva eyed Fiona as she dismissed the woman's idea of opening a rest stop here, shrugging her shoulders softly, the blanket which hung from them gently jostling with the motion. "I'm not so sure. Something definitely seems to draw travelers here, be it the Gods, the location, or the flow of the forest. I have not seen any other resting spots nearby, you might make good business here." Roskva countered, trying to provide a more optimistic spin to Tanis. She didn't like to crush spirits unless they were stirring stupid ideas, but the huntress didn't think a place for the more delicate traveler to rest was necessarily ill conceived.
Attention the refocused on Fiona, and as the words started coming the steely warrior became more and more flustered, a burning crimson stained her cheeks and ears as the young woman explained her...business. Roskva was wholly unfamiliar when it came to that aspect of interaction, and was ruffled by it far more than she cared to admit, though that fact was blatant on her face. "O-Oh I uh...yes, one of those girls then. I um...I see. Plea- Please don't think I offered for you to come along because I'm interested in anything like that..it was- not...I didn't realize..." she sputtered, fighting to get out every word, her mind racing faster and faster, face burning hotter with each stumbled syllable as she dug herself into a deep, embarrassing hole. Her eyes were plastered the floorboards as she could no longer look either of the other women in the eye. Roskva gave a firm nod and a bestial grunt to Fiona's agreement for them to travel together, though now the prudish hunter was wholly reconsidering if that offer had been a grave mistake. Roskva bundled herself up in the blanket, now fighting to keep as covered and modest as she possibly could in front of the other girl.
|
|
Tanis Imani
Established
Roleplay posts: 33
Age: 27
Physical Description: She is a petite woman with dark brown hair and green eyes, various normal marks such as freckles and scars. She is not the classic beauty, but she has her own beauty.
Clothes and Equipment: Robes
Sword/scabbard
Rucksack with:
Cooking gear
Climbing gear
Lighting gear
Etc.
Registered: Jul 24, 2019 14:26:53 GMT -8
|
Post by Tanis Imani on Jul 30, 2019 12:18:36 GMT -8
"I have been doing it for a very long time... I suppose it comes with practice." She said this with a shrug, modest to a fault. "If you do come back, I won't say no to more pelts. There is a white stag I encourage you to hunt... If you bring me his antlers and pelt, I will preserve the meat for you and the pelt can be your payment for your stay if you feel you need to pay. That is... if you are willing to stay a few days." She took a bowl of the soup and ate a bite. It had been quite some time since she ate venison since she was only capable of hunting smaller animals using traps, and most of the time, it was traps set around her garden that she was able to catch her rabbits.
"I have plans of building a new barn and a small stables soon, I can probably just build rooms onto that and give people a place to stay for a small fee. It wouldn't be a lucrative business but it would be something."
Then she watched in amusement as the bigger woman covered up like a shy girl upon hearing the smaller woman's profession as a soiled dove. Tanis did not seem to mind that there was one such woman there, it wasn't any of her business, truth be told.
"I highly doubt I would be a good spouse," she went on to say, "I'm much too used to being alone."
|
|
Fiona Blythe
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 107
Age: 25
Physical Description: ==================================================
Quite attractive, which is quite the benefit of her public profession. High cheek bones, a sharp jawline and thin nose, soft cheeks, and a stunning outlook about her.
Her eyes are a warm green, and her skin on the paler side, but it is hard to tell if it's natural or just well applied makeup until closer inspection. Her hair drops down past her shoulders, and a dark, aged timber brown.
Catching one's eye is her goal, afterall.
She is of medium height and wonderfully maintained build, toned but soft where it matters.
Clothes and Equipment: ==================================================
In public, she can be seen wearing expensive dresses, low cut at the front, and perfectly tailored. As well as her modest jewellery, she wears a specific broach worn by those of her profession, the silver dove of the working women's union, a group of independant whores and escorts.
During her more clandestine dealings however, she wears an incognito set of clothes, featuring a tight pair of dark green greaves, soft and comfy boots that reach up her shins, a basic white shirt, a dark red vest with a handful of pockets, and a dark green hooded cloak that matches her greaves. On top of this, she wears a belt with plenty of pouches to carry her tools of the trade. Finally, a dark maroon scarf is worn over her pale features to hide her identity.
For weaponry, she carries a pair of knives, hidden away for her own protection, however she has also been seen with a seemingly basic bow from time to time. On her belt, however, she hides a small hand-crossbow, and just enough bolts to get her out of a tight spot.
Her tool belt contains many tricks of the trade, including lockpicks, a glass cutter, smoke bombs for a quick get away, and even a handful of stink bombs.
Registered: Jan 12, 2019 23:02:23 GMT -8
|
Post by Fiona Blythe on Aug 1, 2019 2:12:27 GMT -8
Fiona watched Roskva's cheeks go bright red after she reveals what she does for a living, much to her endless amusement. It's always fun to watch such a huge warrior almost crumble at the very thought of her profession, even if it doesn't happen very often.
She lets out a little giggle as the northlander stammers through her words, but she can't help but ask herself, should she put Roskva's mind at ease? Or tease her a little? "Oh don't worry, darling," Fiona says with a bright smile. "You didn't know! I appreciate your sincerity, it's a nice change of pace, as opposed to why people usually want me around." But then she bats her long eyelashes at Roskva. "Not that I'd mind you asking. I like a strong woman."
She lets out another little laugh, tickled pink by the awkwardness of the huntress. It was almost adorable, actually.
"And don't think I wouldn't say no to you either," she says, looking over to Tanis with a wink. "I always pay my keep in these situations."
One last chuckle to settle her amused heart and her attention turns to the soup. Ah, dinner, she didn't realise how hungry she is! With a quick grab of a bowl and a little ladle action, she's quick to serve herself and tuck in. It's not long before the silver dove has a mouthful of warm broth in her belly, warming her soul from the inside out. "Mmm. Delicious."
With a hot bowl in hand, she looks back to her host. "Now a barn with rooms is a good idea," she muses. "Practical and a good way to make money. At least, you'd think it would pay for itself, right? If you did open it to guests." She dips a piece of bread into the broth as she thinks of the idea. "What would you keep in the barn anyway? I didn't see any livestock out there."
|
|
Rǫskva Bjalfidottir
Established
Roleplay posts: 10
Age: 23
Physical Description: ---------------------------------------------------------
Roskva lives up to her namesake, a woman of unusual physical stature, the embodiment of power and prowess. Standing at a stocky 6'1", with taught muscle, broad shoulders, and thick skin, it's not uncommon for those who encounter her to mistake her for a man, or speculate about a possible giant lineage. Neither of these assumption prompt a very favorable reaction from the woman.
Beneath furs and linen is an imposing figure. Roskva has a sharp nose with wide nostrils, the bridge marked by a small scar, with a slight curve to the left from a previous break. She has a square, stony jaw, and slender bow shaped lips. Cold, dark brown eyes, deliver a piercing gaze, this combined with her bushy sunken brows give the girl a resting scowl. Her hair is unkempt, a deep oaken brunette that falls just below the chin, usually pinned back behind her ears.
Her arms, legs, and abdomen are marked by scars from hard labor and battles past fought with man and beast alike. Calloused hands mark a life of rugged work. Her left forearm is marked by ritualistic tattoos, bands of runes which recount a passage from Hyndluloth, the poem outlining Freya's encounter with her sacred boar Hildisvíni. This weaves around a simplistic depiction of a boar's head and a wreath of tusks on the back of her left hand (Roskva is left handed).
---------------------------------------------------------
Clothes and Equipment: Jǫfurrheðnar, an article of clothing as much as it is a title. The boar fur, an intricately crafted totemic garb fashioned from the head of a boar and the hide of the beast's back, it rests upon the head and cloaks the shoulders in the thick bristly fur of the beast, symbolic of the inseparable link between a totemic warrior and their spirit animal, and the beast taking over the human form. Adorned with a wreath of thin golden strands and charms, tributes of Freya, which serve to protect Roskva from malevolent forces. tusks hang from thick leather straps on either side of the head and adorn the chinstrap of the boar head shawl, clattering hollowly with one another as they knock about. The boar is an uncommon and atypical fylgja, the bear and wolf are by far the most typical to embrace for a warrior, making her stand out among peers.
Beneath her Jǫfurrheðnar, a red surcoat over a tattered, blood stained pleated tunic, the simple armor of a peasant-born warrior. A thick leather belt wraps around her waist, providing a sheath for weapons and keeping the fabric of her tunic close to the body and out of the way. Simple cotton pants and boar leather boots cover her lower half, the boots accented with furred cuffs. She has a pair of rabbit fur gloves, though they're only worn in the cold.
Like many facets of Roskva's kit and history, her weaponry is unconventional. Rather than favoring the bow for hunting and battle, Roskva prefers to use javelins and a bearded axe, weapons which tailor better to her raw strength. The javelins are hand carved, usually carefully decorated with braided patterns, adages from the epics, and runes of power. These are carried in a leather bundle case, usually three or four at a time. Her axe has a long handle with a slight curve, made of ash wood, and wrapped in latticed leather chord which binds tightly around the knob and the eye. She also carries a small seax, though it's more often used for skinning and carving than combat, it has a leather sheath of it's own and hangs from her belt at the hip. Roskva has been known to brandish a dane axe in battle, though this is not part of her regular kit and is used only in large battles.
---------------------------------------------------------
Allegiances: Leifheim, Taingaard
Registered: Jul 7, 2019 7:39:08 GMT -8
|
Post by Rǫskva Bjalfidottir on Aug 1, 2019 8:00:17 GMT -8
Roskva gave a firm shake of her head as Fiona affirmed her ignorance. "No, I didn't, not a clue. Might have been better if that's how it had remained, but the damage is done. You strike me as capable a caliber above your profession is all! D-Don't take that the wrong way." She remarked, her curt clipped speech faltering once more as she tripped over her own thoughts with every word said. The warrior could not even bring herself to speak as Fiona went on to tell her that not only she would not be turned away, but that a woman like her was preferable in...that circumstance. She hiked the blanket up to her cheeks, only her eyes peeking up from behind the woolly fabric as she tried to hide her shamed expression.
Fortunately the conversation shifted focus to Tanis, allowing Roskva a distraction from the haunting thoughts and fantasies now swirling around in her thick skull. The warrior raised her mug of soup to Tanis as she went to explain her craft and her dedication to training. "Practice is the forge of masters. Do not sell yourself short, the dedication it takes to overcome mediocrity is no small feat of endurance." she offered, dropping the blanket to flash a gentle smile to the other woman.
She then listened intently, nodding along as Tanis explained what Roskva might do to repay her kindness, going so far as to lay out a particular hunt she could make of a rare white stag that might suit the homeowner. The huntress mused on the idea, her eyes searching upwards for a decision on the right course of action. Ultimately her gaze glided to Fiona. "I would like to be on the road as soon as possible, but I would not leave my charge here to repay you unless it would squander my opportunities for future success. I suppose whether or not I can stay a day or two longer would be up to Fiona, how urgent is your need to return to Isra, girl?" She asked, trying to keep her voice as neutral as she could muster, her eyes never lingering too long on Fiona's face as she waited for her response.
"A stables and a barn? To house what? I think a loft for rent would serve you well if you planned to add that sort of expansion to your home as it was already. I think you would find a reliable market. Good animals pay for themselves over time...unless they're the type you slaughter. Adding housing to that would only boost your return on the investment, I should think." Roskva agreed, giving a nod to Fiona before her attention drifted back to Tanis. A smirk tugged at the stocky woman's thick lips, eventually breaking into a hoarse bellowing laugh. Foreigners were quite funny with their customs, what Tanis had said seemed like some strange mead hall joke to the viking warrior.
"On the contrary, Tanis. Our men spend more time at sea than they do at home, in Taingaard, you'd be the pick of the litter, I would think. The raiders hate nags, and they hate coming home to busywork. Women like you were always exceptionally popular." she remarked, another sputtering little chuckle following her comments.
|
|
Tanis Imani
Established
Roleplay posts: 33
Age: 27
Physical Description: She is a petite woman with dark brown hair and green eyes, various normal marks such as freckles and scars. She is not the classic beauty, but she has her own beauty.
Clothes and Equipment: Robes
Sword/scabbard
Rucksack with:
Cooking gear
Climbing gear
Lighting gear
Etc.
Registered: Jul 24, 2019 14:26:53 GMT -8
|
Post by Tanis Imani on Aug 12, 2019 10:18:01 GMT -8
"Hmm," she hummed in bemusement at the two women. She got up and moved to her basin once she was done nibbling on food, and washed out the bowl with some of the water from a bucket. Then she sat and grabbed the quilt (one of many) she was working on, and began to sew. "I never thought about finding a mate or having children. The people from my village didn't like what I was born as... Therefore I wasn't allowed to stay in the village once I was old enough to fend for myself. I've been in this spot for longer than I can remember."
|
|
Fiona Blythe
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 107
Age: 25
Physical Description: ==================================================
Quite attractive, which is quite the benefit of her public profession. High cheek bones, a sharp jawline and thin nose, soft cheeks, and a stunning outlook about her.
Her eyes are a warm green, and her skin on the paler side, but it is hard to tell if it's natural or just well applied makeup until closer inspection. Her hair drops down past her shoulders, and a dark, aged timber brown.
Catching one's eye is her goal, afterall.
She is of medium height and wonderfully maintained build, toned but soft where it matters.
Clothes and Equipment: ==================================================
In public, she can be seen wearing expensive dresses, low cut at the front, and perfectly tailored. As well as her modest jewellery, she wears a specific broach worn by those of her profession, the silver dove of the working women's union, a group of independant whores and escorts.
During her more clandestine dealings however, she wears an incognito set of clothes, featuring a tight pair of dark green greaves, soft and comfy boots that reach up her shins, a basic white shirt, a dark red vest with a handful of pockets, and a dark green hooded cloak that matches her greaves. On top of this, she wears a belt with plenty of pouches to carry her tools of the trade. Finally, a dark maroon scarf is worn over her pale features to hide her identity.
For weaponry, she carries a pair of knives, hidden away for her own protection, however she has also been seen with a seemingly basic bow from time to time. On her belt, however, she hides a small hand-crossbow, and just enough bolts to get her out of a tight spot.
Her tool belt contains many tricks of the trade, including lockpicks, a glass cutter, smoke bombs for a quick get away, and even a handful of stink bombs.
Registered: Jan 12, 2019 23:02:23 GMT -8
|
Post by Fiona Blythe on Aug 14, 2019 1:35:45 GMT -8
Fiona tuts at her new Nordic friend and waggles a finger at her. "Come now, Roskva, what is a travelling buddy without transparency?" She asks. "Besides, if you think me being a courtesan is awkward, you would be in for a shock in the big city." She bats her eyes at the muscular woman before laughing. "I'm glad you think so, but I'm very good at the job I do. It nets me a better income than doing just about anything else."
Little did Roskva know, she's usually engaged in work of a higher, or perhaps lower to most, calibre of work. At least at her main gig she didn't have to get her tits out much.
Fiona watched as the Nordic lady showers their host with compliments for a few moments. She found them to be quite… flowery, but otherwise flattering. A right warrior poet.
When the attention shifts back to her she merely shrugs. "I'm not expected back for a week. I can stay if it means easier passage home, but that's not up to me to decide." She pulls her own blanket up and settles into her seat, finding herself quite lucky to have been taken in like this.
She listens to their host's words and frowns ever so slightly. What she was born as? Eh, it's not her place to ask. Instead she gets comfy and gets herself mentally ready to tease Roskva some more
|
|
Tanis Imani
Established
Roleplay posts: 33
Age: 27
Physical Description: She is a petite woman with dark brown hair and green eyes, various normal marks such as freckles and scars. She is not the classic beauty, but she has her own beauty.
Clothes and Equipment: Robes
Sword/scabbard
Rucksack with:
Cooking gear
Climbing gear
Lighting gear
Etc.
Registered: Jul 24, 2019 14:26:53 GMT -8
|
Post by Tanis Imani on Sept 17, 2019 15:15:39 GMT -8
It seemed the big woman lapsed into silence and possibly even went to set up her pallet somewhere. At least she had cleaned up after herself. She looked over to the one who was a lady of the night and tilted her head. "It seems we tired her out." She chuckled and finished her meal before cleaning up her bowl, and then yawned. It was a nasty rain happening outside.
"I will consider the barn with rooms. I don't get very many visitors but when I do, I like to be prepared."
|
|