Ahremen Arkah
Established
Roleplay posts: 29 
Age: 19
Physical Description: A well built young woman with shimmering blue eyes and luscious red hair. Once a starving urchin barely able to stay conscious, now appears well fed and constantly alert.
Clothes and Equipment: Shimmering silver armor lined with white fur atop luxurious red silk. A silver rapier hangs off her right hip.
Registered: Dec 21, 2015 17:12:03 GMT -8
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Post by Ahremen Arkah on Jan 11, 2016 20:21:42 GMT -8
"Is it? It seems perfectly normal to me. Although I suppose that's weird as well isn't it? It only happened once, I'd never seen it before, but I'm quite ok with it now."
Ahremen sighed wistfully, "That seems so...easy, no offense of course, I'm gallavanting across the damn coal district, stuying all day, patrolling all night, listening to old men preach, and youre off making pancakes. It would seem wealth isn't the only divide in this country."
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Roxanne Fletcher
Main Character
Roleplay posts: 816
Age: 22
Physical Description: Roxanne is tall with white hair and a narrow, athletic build. She has a pleasant face and only a couple of scars.
Clothes and Equipment: Heavy armor, Elven bow (stolen), and a longsword.
Player's online availability : Early mornings and late evenings
Registered: Aug 2, 2015 8:58:10 GMT -8
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Post by Roxanne Fletcher on Jan 11, 2016 20:31:46 GMT -8
Roxanne nods.
"Yeah...sun worshipping is nice. It doesn't even need to be pancakes, as long as you kick a little something up to the sun whenever you gain anything. It's so easy."
She grins, pink-faced and happy.
"I'm not really an evangelist, but you should consider sun worship. It's the easiest ever religion ever. So convenient."
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Ahremen Arkah
Established
Roleplay posts: 29
Age: 19
Physical Description: A well built young woman with shimmering blue eyes and luscious red hair. Once a starving urchin barely able to stay conscious, now appears well fed and constantly alert.
Clothes and Equipment: Shimmering silver armor lined with white fur atop luxurious red silk. A silver rapier hangs off her right hip.
Registered: Dec 21, 2015 17:12:03 GMT -8
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Post by Ahremen Arkah on Jan 11, 2016 20:35:28 GMT -8
Ahremen sat down on a nearby pile of boxes. "You know I suddenly don't want to go back home. Can we get your wine later?"
She leaned back and closed her eyes, and continued talking "I'm afraid I won't ever be able to worship your sun god, or anyone elses for that matter, I've got something very important I have to do for Omir, and it would seem I don't have much choice in the matter. Do you know what a geis is Roxanne?"
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Roxanne Fletcher
Main Character
Roleplay posts: 816
Age: 22
Physical Description: Roxanne is tall with white hair and a narrow, athletic build. She has a pleasant face and only a couple of scars.
Clothes and Equipment: Heavy armor, Elven bow (stolen), and a longsword.
Player's online availability : Early mornings and late evenings
Registered: Aug 2, 2015 8:58:10 GMT -8
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Post by Roxanne Fletcher on Jan 11, 2016 20:43:51 GMT -8
Roxanne shakes her head.
"Wine later is fine, I guess. I've never heard of a geis. What is it?"
She reaches into her bag and pulls out another bottle. It's cracked slightly, and has begun to leak.
"Oh dear, it's leaking. Better drink it now before it all leaks away, huh?"
She uncorks it and passes it to Ahremen.
"Here, drink some before you keel over and start snoring."
Suddenly, she has an idea and grins.
"Hey, let's go to a bar or something. Seeing as you don't want to go home."
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Ahremen Arkah
Established
Roleplay posts: 29
Age: 19
Physical Description: A well built young woman with shimmering blue eyes and luscious red hair. Once a starving urchin barely able to stay conscious, now appears well fed and constantly alert.
Clothes and Equipment: Shimmering silver armor lined with white fur atop luxurious red silk. A silver rapier hangs off her right hip.
Registered: Dec 21, 2015 17:12:03 GMT -8
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Post by Ahremen Arkah on Jan 12, 2016 17:41:31 GMT -8
"Conversation is always better over a cold drink" She took the bottle and licked the leaking crack "but luke warm will do just fine too."
Ahremen took a long drink from the bottle. "A geis, is a bit like a curse, in that it isn't exactly consensual you see, that being said, it isn't always a negative thing either. Most often they dictate how you're going to die. So, if you're lucky" she takes another long drink "if you're lucky someone sets up a geis on you that has such ridiculous and unlikely circumstances that it makes you effectively immortal outside of very well researched and specifically set up circumstances. Unfortunately, it would seem I might not be so lucky, I'm set up to die whenever the proper ninth reincarnation of Omir makes an appearance, who or what or where that might be is well beyond me. But they'll need my blood in order to fulfill a centuries old prophecy, and whether I want to or not, I'll have to repay it."
She opened one eye and held the bottle back out to Roxanne. "A bar sounds nice though."
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Roxanne Fletcher
Main Character
Roleplay posts: 816
Age: 22
Physical Description: Roxanne is tall with white hair and a narrow, athletic build. She has a pleasant face and only a couple of scars.
Clothes and Equipment: Heavy armor, Elven bow (stolen), and a longsword.
Player's online availability : Early mornings and late evenings
Registered: Aug 2, 2015 8:58:10 GMT -8
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Post by Roxanne Fletcher on Jan 12, 2016 21:19:13 GMT -8
"Ooh...that's rough. Sun worship is sounding better every minute. I'm glad I don't need to get sacrificed. Some of the more extreme sun cults demand virgin sacrifice every year or so, but I...took care of that problem. I'm safe now. Gimme that."
Roxanne grabs the bottle, sharing it with Ahremen until they get to a bar.
"Maybe you'll get lucky and the ninth reincarnation won't appear until you're super old."
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: May 20, 2024 8:06:26 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Mar 24, 2016 18:09:39 GMT -8
She couldn't imagine where Artair felt any better than she did. Seafaring... something she had never done and had no experience with. The stallion was extremely agitated, and she didn't feel any better. Her stomach was still swaying about within her gut - food sounded like a solution, but also another ailment. It would be something later, perhaps. But at least they were no longer on those miserable boats and on solid ground again.
The docks were left behind and they would find themselves moving through the Western Gates. Catriona found herself following her nose, of all things. Something very much desirable was aloft on the air, drawing her closer. With a hand resting easily upon the horse's neck, she led them around into a bustling portion of Bayonne's economy - carts and displays and shacks risen and stuffed to the seams with all manner of goods for sale. This was the Bazaar. Her curiosity got the best of her, and she made her way to weave between the vendor stalls and the citizens bustling about. With some coaxing, the stallion didn't fight or fidget and followed at her side. Any other moment, she spent poking her head into the stalls and under awnings to take a gander of what was to offer. Many foods and spices she was not familiar with, and all sorts of items and trinkets. It was amazing what all was here. And even more amazing was the fact her stomach began to settle.
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Samael
Dedicated
Evolution takes time.
Roleplay posts: 222 
Age: Unknown.
Physical Description: The seemingly young man before you stands at the imposing height of 5'10. There's a rich, deep complexion to his skin, and it could be considered desiresable among gossipers. However, he is not without Mara along his body, having minute scarring in various areas. It's clear by the astute that he's seen battle, and his presence is made known by the miasma of ambition that radiates off him. His body is hardened by muscle, though scouring his frame. His body is not without their imperfections, but even so, his old wounds give off the realization that he is not entirely vain.
Clothes and Equipment: Donning roguish attire, Samael can be seen cloaked in a fur jacket adorned with magical properties. Power radiates from the article of clothing, though it's easily unnoticed. Unfamiliar fabric hangs along his frame, though it seems to consistently shift about, rippling akin to water. Some say that he typically wears nothing, and dons a miasma of dark magic to cover himself appropriately. The undeniable rattling of metal emanates from him, and the source stems from a great sword that is linked together with a sinister looking chain. Both glow with dark energies at times, and it's safe to assume that they've been blessed... Or cursed by higher powers.
Player's online availability : On most of the time, most responsive in the afternoons, and evenings.
Registered: Mar 23, 2016 21:24:20 GMT -8
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Post by Samael on Mar 24, 2016 18:36:12 GMT -8
Sifting through the crowds while donning a blatant fur jacket, Samael does little to blend in among those he deems 'peons'. They were pitiful, weak creatures in which were only useful for harvesting, and labor. His eyes turn upon those that walk too close in disgust, a cold, foreboding aura surrounding him on a spiritual level. It was almost passive for those nearby to stay clear of the strolling individual, and within his grasp laid a pristine apple, golden in coloration. It was in its right season, and he noisily sinks his teeth into the morsel. Chewing upon his snack, his eyes wander the crowd for something, someone, anything that didn't resemble this wel-fare of trash. A horse catches his eye, though a relatively normal looking lass is upon it. A rogue thought comes to mind, and he thoughtfully eats his apple as he appraises the beast.
...Yes, he could use that horse, himself. The lass could always walk on her own, after all. He remains at a distance, and attempts to not stare as he proceeds to stealthily observe a potential target for his own wealth. The strong ate the weak, after all..
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: May 20, 2024 8:06:26 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Mar 24, 2016 18:47:24 GMT -8
Catriona pays the prying stare little mind, her sights upon the goods presented on display around her as she poured over them. It almost made her wish for a little more coin in her pocket... almost. Artair, the powerful Clydesdale stallion of storm grey hide and jet black hair, kept close to her side as she wandered about. He had no bridle upon his face or a saddle - only a pair of heavy blankets across his back. Seemed more of a wild animal rather than trained, from a visual standpoint at least.
The woman herself would likely have her back to him, and from there he could see how plain she seemed with most of her figure under a dull, drab cloak with the hood cast down at her back. The bow across her back would be seen, at the very least - a well, sturdy design with a few designs hand etched into the body. She brings herself to stop at a stand where there stood a number of fresh fruits divided up and brilliantly displayed in the sun - their colors standing out. The woman in charge of the stall, an older female, would lean in and proceed to speak with a proud tone despite her age - perhaps the farmer of the vibrant fruits. Catriona herself would offer a small smile and would proceed to speak with her - even more so curious with herself being foreign to the city.
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Samael
Dedicated
Evolution takes time.
Roleplay posts: 222
Age: Unknown.
Physical Description: The seemingly young man before you stands at the imposing height of 5'10. There's a rich, deep complexion to his skin, and it could be considered desiresable among gossipers. However, he is not without Mara along his body, having minute scarring in various areas. It's clear by the astute that he's seen battle, and his presence is made known by the miasma of ambition that radiates off him. His body is hardened by muscle, though scouring his frame. His body is not without their imperfections, but even so, his old wounds give off the realization that he is not entirely vain.
Clothes and Equipment: Donning roguish attire, Samael can be seen cloaked in a fur jacket adorned with magical properties. Power radiates from the article of clothing, though it's easily unnoticed. Unfamiliar fabric hangs along his frame, though it seems to consistently shift about, rippling akin to water. Some say that he typically wears nothing, and dons a miasma of dark magic to cover himself appropriately. The undeniable rattling of metal emanates from him, and the source stems from a great sword that is linked together with a sinister looking chain. Both glow with dark energies at times, and it's safe to assume that they've been blessed... Or cursed by higher powers.
Player's online availability : On most of the time, most responsive in the afternoons, and evenings.
Registered: Mar 23, 2016 21:24:20 GMT -8
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Post by Samael on Mar 24, 2016 18:52:23 GMT -8
Samael remains impassive in the background, though his patience in waiting for this rather drab woman to finish shopping irks his very essence. His arms fold together as he opts to take up a perch upon one of the nearby roofs, albeit in the shadows. Cold onyx eyes bear down upon the sight before him, and he has half a mind to commit a bit of panic among the masses. Alas, there's not much to be done for the time being. He'd wait until this mysterious woman and her majestic horse were out of the shop area, and into a more secluded, less civilized opening. There - he could run her for whatever she was worth, and oust the horse from her grubby hands.
"Too easy..she looks like an easy mark, to be sure. I won't have a hard time dealing with what looks like a human, down on her luck." He mumbles, allowing time to wane on as it does naturally.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: May 20, 2024 8:06:26 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Mar 24, 2016 19:08:03 GMT -8
The woman ended up leaving the stall, having purchased nothing. She brings her hand up and places her palm to the underside of Artair's head and guided him away. She weaved back through the throngs of people and the remaining vendors, heading out of the dense heart of the bazaar and into the more empty streets of the city. She wasn't quite one to wander the Diamond District, but it was still a lovely place to traverse in general. She kept herself tucked off to the side of the street, as to avoid getting in the way of other passersby with the massive animal at her side. A quick glance to the sky confirmed that Medrod, her Peregrine companion, was still aloft but within sight. He took more joy in the skies and dancing among the clouds - and she couldn't fault him for that. He was a simple whistle away. She brings her sights down and continues to pace along the road.
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Samael
Dedicated
Evolution takes time.
Roleplay posts: 222
Age: Unknown.
Physical Description: The seemingly young man before you stands at the imposing height of 5'10. There's a rich, deep complexion to his skin, and it could be considered desiresable among gossipers. However, he is not without Mara along his body, having minute scarring in various areas. It's clear by the astute that he's seen battle, and his presence is made known by the miasma of ambition that radiates off him. His body is hardened by muscle, though scouring his frame. His body is not without their imperfections, but even so, his old wounds give off the realization that he is not entirely vain.
Clothes and Equipment: Donning roguish attire, Samael can be seen cloaked in a fur jacket adorned with magical properties. Power radiates from the article of clothing, though it's easily unnoticed. Unfamiliar fabric hangs along his frame, though it seems to consistently shift about, rippling akin to water. Some say that he typically wears nothing, and dons a miasma of dark magic to cover himself appropriately. The undeniable rattling of metal emanates from him, and the source stems from a great sword that is linked together with a sinister looking chain. Both glow with dark energies at times, and it's safe to assume that they've been blessed... Or cursed by higher powers.
Player's online availability : On most of the time, most responsive in the afternoons, and evenings.
Registered: Mar 23, 2016 21:24:20 GMT -8
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Post by Samael on Mar 24, 2016 19:12:21 GMT -8
Within the undergrowth of the city, Samael casually trails after his prey, limiting himself to a rather sizeable distance. He was just barely in range of the woman, but he could easily accelerate and ensure that he closed that gap within moments. Unaware of the hawk floating within the sky, he bravely sets out to stalk down his target, and ensure that they're caught out with no route of escape. Perhaps it was boredom that drove him to stoop to such a petty crime, or simple envy that someone like Catriona could own such a creature. It mattered not, for his right hand slowly delved into a fist, one of which promised swift brutality if she resisted his commands to relinquish her gifts.
Despite all of this, and her seemingly looking like a human, he did not underestimate his opponent, and opts to bide his time. Magic swirls around his left hand in the most subtle of manners, attempting to launch a quickly shot marking sigil upon the back of Catriona's clothing. It would appear as nothing more than an odd drawing, but she'd be unaware unless she was magically adept.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: May 20, 2024 8:06:26 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Mar 24, 2016 19:22:08 GMT -8
The woman was not adept in magic by any means - despite her blood. If anything, a desire to work against it stamped out whatever ability to attune to magic she might have held. She kept walking, until the horse swayed his head to the side and nudged her heavily - almost causing her to keel over from the force. It wasn't a harsh gesture, but more a playful one - as was Artair's way. She couldn't help a soft chuckle as she righted herself and stopped, turning to look at him and bringing her other hand around. Unless her stalker was moving quick, she was unlikely to notice him in her peripherals. When the stallion received the petting he wanted they would continue again, wandering through the streets and winding about aimlessly. Perhaps in one turn she would find a dead end, and simply attempt to retrace steps and return to the prior street.
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Samael
Dedicated
Evolution takes time.
Roleplay posts: 222
Age: Unknown.
Physical Description: The seemingly young man before you stands at the imposing height of 5'10. There's a rich, deep complexion to his skin, and it could be considered desiresable among gossipers. However, he is not without Mara along his body, having minute scarring in various areas. It's clear by the astute that he's seen battle, and his presence is made known by the miasma of ambition that radiates off him. His body is hardened by muscle, though scouring his frame. His body is not without their imperfections, but even so, his old wounds give off the realization that he is not entirely vain.
Clothes and Equipment: Donning roguish attire, Samael can be seen cloaked in a fur jacket adorned with magical properties. Power radiates from the article of clothing, though it's easily unnoticed. Unfamiliar fabric hangs along his frame, though it seems to consistently shift about, rippling akin to water. Some say that he typically wears nothing, and dons a miasma of dark magic to cover himself appropriately. The undeniable rattling of metal emanates from him, and the source stems from a great sword that is linked together with a sinister looking chain. Both glow with dark energies at times, and it's safe to assume that they've been blessed... Or cursed by higher powers.
Player's online availability : On most of the time, most responsive in the afternoons, and evenings.
Registered: Mar 23, 2016 21:24:20 GMT -8
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Post by Samael on Mar 24, 2016 19:34:27 GMT -8
It would appear that this mark had little idea as to the intentions of Samael as he stuffs his hands within his fur jacket. He exhales lowly as he allows further distance to be marked, now able to keep track of Catriona, albeit for a very limited time. Perhaps an hour or so at the most, he would have to wait for an opportunity to strike out at her without any witnesses, or revert back to his primal hunting methods. Regardless, he turns a corner, a slightly glowing hand being removed from his jacket as he tracks her down. Akin to a sonar system, it was only but a matter of time, before he discerned her location.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: May 20, 2024 8:06:26 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Mar 24, 2016 19:42:54 GMT -8
It wouldn't be too long before she was completely and utterly... lost. And with her lack of bearings she began to feel a bit caged in. Despite the beauty of the city - aside from the less than glamorous looks from the residents at her plain being - it was starting to feel like a solid stone maze or even an elaborate cage. Yes, traveling indeed put her in a number of new places and some were less than likeable - right now she wanted to be back in the open plains and fields, if not in the forest. Or better yet, the graveyard. It had been a while since she had visited.
Artair would huffs and shakes his head a bit as they continued to walk - seeming to visibly show the impatient and frustration she herself held within her skin rather than show. She would pat his thick neck in a coaxing manner and continue to wander. All she needed was another whiff of the air heavy with the bazaar's goods and she could try to get her bearings. Or better yet, try to find an inn or something similar to stay for the night and the few beyond that. The return boat back to something akin to home wouldn't leave for a few days' time. She would have to learn to navigate this city for now.
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Samael
Dedicated
Evolution takes time.
Roleplay posts: 222
Age: Unknown.
Physical Description: The seemingly young man before you stands at the imposing height of 5'10. There's a rich, deep complexion to his skin, and it could be considered desiresable among gossipers. However, he is not without Mara along his body, having minute scarring in various areas. It's clear by the astute that he's seen battle, and his presence is made known by the miasma of ambition that radiates off him. His body is hardened by muscle, though scouring his frame. His body is not without their imperfections, but even so, his old wounds give off the realization that he is not entirely vain.
Clothes and Equipment: Donning roguish attire, Samael can be seen cloaked in a fur jacket adorned with magical properties. Power radiates from the article of clothing, though it's easily unnoticed. Unfamiliar fabric hangs along his frame, though it seems to consistently shift about, rippling akin to water. Some say that he typically wears nothing, and dons a miasma of dark magic to cover himself appropriately. The undeniable rattling of metal emanates from him, and the source stems from a great sword that is linked together with a sinister looking chain. Both glow with dark energies at times, and it's safe to assume that they've been blessed... Or cursed by higher powers.
Player's online availability : On most of the time, most responsive in the afternoons, and evenings.
Registered: Mar 23, 2016 21:24:20 GMT -8
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Post by Samael on Mar 24, 2016 19:56:16 GMT -8
Samael sighs with mild frustration as Catriona seems to be going in wide loops, as if she's never been inside of a city before. He strides along various roof-tops, flitting about at high speeds when necessary - but it's like he's watching paint dry, in his mind. Was this expenditure of his magic and time worth a freakin' horse? He begins to question his methods, and mindset..but he's already committed himself to this task. Stubbornly, and iron-set, he reserves his judgement on the matter, and continues to observe for now.
"Idiot.."
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Samael
Dedicated
Evolution takes time.
Roleplay posts: 222
Age: Unknown.
Physical Description: The seemingly young man before you stands at the imposing height of 5'10. There's a rich, deep complexion to his skin, and it could be considered desiresable among gossipers. However, he is not without Mara along his body, having minute scarring in various areas. It's clear by the astute that he's seen battle, and his presence is made known by the miasma of ambition that radiates off him. His body is hardened by muscle, though scouring his frame. His body is not without their imperfections, but even so, his old wounds give off the realization that he is not entirely vain.
Clothes and Equipment: Donning roguish attire, Samael can be seen cloaked in a fur jacket adorned with magical properties. Power radiates from the article of clothing, though it's easily unnoticed. Unfamiliar fabric hangs along his frame, though it seems to consistently shift about, rippling akin to water. Some say that he typically wears nothing, and dons a miasma of dark magic to cover himself appropriately. The undeniable rattling of metal emanates from him, and the source stems from a great sword that is linked together with a sinister looking chain. Both glow with dark energies at times, and it's safe to assume that they've been blessed... Or cursed by higher powers.
Player's online availability : On most of the time, most responsive in the afternoons, and evenings.
Registered: Mar 23, 2016 21:24:20 GMT -8
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Post by Samael on Mar 24, 2016 20:32:16 GMT -8
Samael would patiently await for her to leave the city, and he follows his target to the open lands. The trip would be a long, and trying one, but he considers this a testament to his ability to be patient. Demons often erred when they lost their temper or cool, and he could not afford to be like the others. Thus, he must struggle with himself, to improve.
( C l o s e d timelineu )
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