Daris'Fall, The Rising Blade
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 167
Age: 19
Physical Description: Small for an orcish warrior Daris is just over six foot six, a good 6 inches below average height. Despite his height, he still has the build of a warrior. He is surprisingly light on his feet and very flexible. Like most orcs he has a powerful jawline, heavy brow, and protruding tusks. By orc standards he is considered to be quite the looker. Coupled with his status in the tribe, he has more than a few young orcish woman looking to win his eye.
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Clothes and Equipment: Like most warriors Daris prefer light simply armor for his day to day wear. This armor allows for freedom of movement in combat, essential to his fighting style.
His weapon is a slightly curved sword, with a long grip. It can easily be wielded in one or two hands, and is designed for slashing attacks. His sword is made of a single carved piece of living stone. A gift from the earth, the blade is preternaturally sharp, durable, and bound to him. He can summon it to his hand, and use it channel his magics.
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Registered: Mar 12, 2016 16:09:38 GMT -8
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Post by Daris'Fall, The Rising Blade on Mar 15, 2016 12:26:40 GMT -8
Daris had been so focused, that when Dura spoke he started. You'd think he would have learned by now, but it was his way. His instructors once told him that his only talent, was working hard. Once that had been an insult, now it was a compliment. He nodded at her, and relaxes his posture.
"I will try. Though I make no promises. I tend to get carried away when training... Are you alright?"
He hesitates as he asks the question. She had just flopped into the grass. She had seemed fine a moment ago, was she just tired?
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Zar'Dura the Listener
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 250
Age: 19
Physical Description: At 6'3", Zar'Dura is somewhat small, even for a female Orc, and she is not as muscular as most. Her skin is a greenish-brownish-grey color that is common to her race, and her features, while not what humans would consider beautiful, are delicate for her kind, with full lips and two small tusks protruding upward from behind her lower lip. Her eyes are a startling amber-gold color, and her hair is black, worn in tightly-bound ropes often adorned with charms and rings carved of wood and stone.
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Clothes and Equipment: Most frequently, she can be seen wearing a set of fur-and-leather robes, adorned with fangs, claws, and a single wolf femur, with a single strap that lays across her right shoulder, leaving the other bare. Occasionally, she wears armor of leather and iron, created for her by her parents. Her usual equipment consists of a simple wooden staff carved with runes.
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Player's online availability : Evenings. (EST)
Registered: Feb 10, 2016 19:17:02 GMT -8
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Post by Zar'Dura the Listener on Mar 15, 2016 12:35:30 GMT -8
Turning her head, she glanced at Daris and offered a small smile. "I am fine. Simply tired. My recent.. adventures.. have been exhausting." Adventures... This called to mind the death of Theev'Nok, and sorrow washed across her face, her eyes darkening. "..Perhaps I have been driving myself too hard.. trying to dispel the guilt of Theev'Nok's death..." Only a few knew that she had been present when the Brute had died. She should probably talk to someone about it.. but she just couldn't bring herself to.
Kold'Ron's words flitted through her mind.. that perhaps in protecting her, Theev'Nok had fulfilled his purpose in this world. That he had believed, as Kold'Ron did, that she was.. important. That doubt in herself welled again, seen in the eyes that stared blankly toward the sky to one side of Daris'Fall. How could she be important? She was weak and worthless, reduced to little better than nothing by Shorbolg's harsh words. Perhaps it would be better for everyone if she left the tribe, and died in obscurity out in the wilds...
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Daris'Fall, The Rising Blade
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 167
Age: 19
Physical Description: Small for an orcish warrior Daris is just over six foot six, a good 6 inches below average height. Despite his height, he still has the build of a warrior. He is surprisingly light on his feet and very flexible. Like most orcs he has a powerful jawline, heavy brow, and protruding tusks. By orc standards he is considered to be quite the looker. Coupled with his status in the tribe, he has more than a few young orcish woman looking to win his eye.
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Clothes and Equipment: Like most warriors Daris prefer light simply armor for his day to day wear. This armor allows for freedom of movement in combat, essential to his fighting style.
His weapon is a slightly curved sword, with a long grip. It can easily be wielded in one or two hands, and is designed for slashing attacks. His sword is made of a single carved piece of living stone. A gift from the earth, the blade is preternaturally sharp, durable, and bound to him. He can summon it to his hand, and use it channel his magics.
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Registered: Mar 12, 2016 16:09:38 GMT -8
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Post by Daris'Fall, The Rising Blade on Mar 15, 2016 13:25:00 GMT -8
Daris's face turns grim. Like all in the village, he had known and loved their champion. He had even had the pleasure of sparing with the warrior once. Shortly after he was selected as a shaman warrior. Theev had won of course, but Daris had managed a single touch. Afterward the brute had called him a worthy foe. Those words had dispelled the pain of the bruises. Still why would she feel guilt.
"Theev'Nok was a warrior Zar'Dura. Whatever guilt you are feeling is misplaced. He would bear no grudge against you. If he choose to stand and fight, it was because he felt it was best for us all. Meaning no offense, but if you do not trust his judgement... You dishonor his memory."
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Zar'Dura the Listener
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 250
Age: 19
Physical Description: At 6'3", Zar'Dura is somewhat small, even for a female Orc, and she is not as muscular as most. Her skin is a greenish-brownish-grey color that is common to her race, and her features, while not what humans would consider beautiful, are delicate for her kind, with full lips and two small tusks protruding upward from behind her lower lip. Her eyes are a startling amber-gold color, and her hair is black, worn in tightly-bound ropes often adorned with charms and rings carved of wood and stone.
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Clothes and Equipment: Most frequently, she can be seen wearing a set of fur-and-leather robes, adorned with fangs, claws, and a single wolf femur, with a single strap that lays across her right shoulder, leaving the other bare. Occasionally, she wears armor of leather and iron, created for her by her parents. Her usual equipment consists of a simple wooden staff carved with runes.
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Player's online availability : Evenings. (EST)
Registered: Feb 10, 2016 19:17:02 GMT -8
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Post by Zar'Dura the Listener on Mar 15, 2016 13:39:14 GMT -8
The faraway look in her eyes disappeared, and they instead fixed on Daris' face, flat and empty. "Theev'Nok died protecting me. Because I was too slow, too weak, to do any good. That necromancer broke him while I ran." The self-loathing in her voice was obvious, and she turned her face away, quickly sitting up. As she grasped her staff, she got her feet beneath her and stood. "He sacrificed himself to save me, although All-Maker only knows why.. he brought more honor to the tribe than I could."
The tone of her voice said she thought she wasn't worthy of the Brute's sacrifice. Theev'Nok's death had been a waste. She should've died in his place. Drowning in her dark thoughts and emotions, she turned her back to him as she looked off into the distance. "You should.. keep working on your control. Learn to access the magic without my help. I will assist you as needed, of course. You will be great one day, Daris'Fall..." Greater than I could ever be. Without another word, she began to walk slowly away.
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Daris'Fall, The Rising Blade
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 167
Age: 19
Physical Description: Small for an orcish warrior Daris is just over six foot six, a good 6 inches below average height. Despite his height, he still has the build of a warrior. He is surprisingly light on his feet and very flexible. Like most orcs he has a powerful jawline, heavy brow, and protruding tusks. By orc standards he is considered to be quite the looker. Coupled with his status in the tribe, he has more than a few young orcish woman looking to win his eye.
-
Clothes and Equipment: Like most warriors Daris prefer light simply armor for his day to day wear. This armor allows for freedom of movement in combat, essential to his fighting style.
His weapon is a slightly curved sword, with a long grip. It can easily be wielded in one or two hands, and is designed for slashing attacks. His sword is made of a single carved piece of living stone. A gift from the earth, the blade is preternaturally sharp, durable, and bound to him. He can summon it to his hand, and use it channel his magics.
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Registered: Mar 12, 2016 16:09:38 GMT -8
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Post by Daris'Fall, The Rising Blade on Mar 15, 2016 14:19:58 GMT -8
Dari's watches Dura go, at a loss. What does one say in the face of such grief? Such guilt? Even if he knew what to say, it was not his place. He was not her friend, as much as he wanted to be. What then, did he do? He supposed what he always does. He will train, he will learn, he will overcome. Perhaps there will be opportunity to help her later. He prayed to the earth that is would be so. He resumed lotus position, and once again tackled the block. He would be out here for quite some time.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 23, 2024 3:12:01 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Mar 15, 2016 14:24:28 GMT -8
With that moment, a handful of orcs walked forth along the main path with fast, rapid drums played. The four orcs stopped, continuing to stomp on the path as the center orc, at a mighty height of 12', completely decked in stone armor, roared out among the silenced tribal members.
"Zar'Dura of Falkreath!!!! The Chieftan summons you to his realm!!!"
With that, the orcs halted their marching, turning around and entering through the Chieftan's hut once more, where the drums and beating sticks would be cast aside and the orcs would continue their other jobs.
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Zar'Dura the Listener
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 250
Age: 19
Physical Description: At 6'3", Zar'Dura is somewhat small, even for a female Orc, and she is not as muscular as most. Her skin is a greenish-brownish-grey color that is common to her race, and her features, while not what humans would consider beautiful, are delicate for her kind, with full lips and two small tusks protruding upward from behind her lower lip. Her eyes are a startling amber-gold color, and her hair is black, worn in tightly-bound ropes often adorned with charms and rings carved of wood and stone.
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Clothes and Equipment: Most frequently, she can be seen wearing a set of fur-and-leather robes, adorned with fangs, claws, and a single wolf femur, with a single strap that lays across her right shoulder, leaving the other bare. Occasionally, she wears armor of leather and iron, created for her by her parents. Her usual equipment consists of a simple wooden staff carved with runes.
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Player's online availability : Evenings. (EST)
Registered: Feb 10, 2016 19:17:02 GMT -8
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Post by Zar'Dura the Listener on Mar 15, 2016 14:33:17 GMT -8
The ruckus surprised Zar'Dura, who came to a halt, staring in the direction of the procession. Then her heart sank. The Chieftain was calling her..? Despite the overwhelming ominous feeling that swamped her, Dura held her head high and moved to the Chieftain's hut. Stepping inside, she proceeded forward as far as was polite, then sank to her knees, folding over and lowering her head toward the floor of the hut. "I have come as you commanded, Great Chieftain..."
What dark fate was going to befall her, now? Was he going to banish her, or execute her, for her behavior? Her eyes closed, waiting to hear what punishment was to befall her. This was it. Her life was over. Such as it had been. Maybe it was for the best. She was useless, not a shaman, not a warrior, not anything of use.. too young to be an adult, but too old to be a child...
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 23, 2024 3:12:01 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Mar 15, 2016 14:56:03 GMT -8
"....Break your praise, child."
The Chieftan, as mighty as he was, held a shattered voice, depressed and miserable, tenfold to whatever motion Zar'Dura bore mentally. His hand held one of the hammers that were stayed in Shorbolg's Hut. He was.. on his knees, in front of his throne, holding the hammer's head to his upper center chest as he stared to the handle. "Come to me, Zar'Dura.."
Below, and slightly upon the hammer, were small spotches of dampness. His eyes grew sore, and were viewed as actually quite irritated, bulging gently and red with itch. He seemed to never blink, staring down to the strange grips upon the handle. ".....He was always fond of his strength.. and yet I've never understood how he'd manage a grip upon these hammers.. they seem to be as loose as Mongthol fat." He chuckled once, inhaling sharply afterwards as he looked up to Zar'Dura. "Come closer..." Once she would sit as he commanded, he would tell her to detail the end of Theev'Nok, as he held the hammer's head close to his chest the entire time she spoke, head tilting left to right every now and then as he kept eyes locked onto hers for the time possible to do so.
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Zar'Dura the Listener
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 250
Age: 19
Physical Description: At 6'3", Zar'Dura is somewhat small, even for a female Orc, and she is not as muscular as most. Her skin is a greenish-brownish-grey color that is common to her race, and her features, while not what humans would consider beautiful, are delicate for her kind, with full lips and two small tusks protruding upward from behind her lower lip. Her eyes are a startling amber-gold color, and her hair is black, worn in tightly-bound ropes often adorned with charms and rings carved of wood and stone.
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Clothes and Equipment: Most frequently, she can be seen wearing a set of fur-and-leather robes, adorned with fangs, claws, and a single wolf femur, with a single strap that lays across her right shoulder, leaving the other bare. Occasionally, she wears armor of leather and iron, created for her by her parents. Her usual equipment consists of a simple wooden staff carved with runes.
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Player's online availability : Evenings. (EST)
Registered: Feb 10, 2016 19:17:02 GMT -8
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Post by Zar'Dura the Listener on Mar 15, 2016 15:03:33 GMT -8
Raising her head, Zar'Dura gazed at the chieftain. His sorrow struck her heart. The loss of Theev'Nok had hit him hard, and once again the guilt welled within her. Finding her feet, Zar'Dura moved closer, until Thorok told her to stop, and then she sat before him. Her legs folded before he body, she laid her staff across her lap, staring at the hammer he held. Whilst his words of Theev'Nok should have drawn laughter, or at least a smile, all they did was make tears well in Zar'Dura's eyes. The command to speak of Theev'Nok's demise was a difficult one to obey, but she did as she was told.
Her eyes closed to better recall the memory that was forever burned into her brain. As she spoke, telling of how Theev'Nok ran to confront Thrashnald, how he fought the necromancer with all he was worth, and ultimately, how he was broken and beaten - a thing she described in every excruciating detail, knowing the Brute's memory deserved no less than the absolute truth - tears began to stream down her face. The self-loathing, the doubt, the hatred of herself for her weakness, seeped gradually into her tone, painting the final words that fell from her lips as she fumbled the warhorn from her belt, and lowered her head, offering Theev'Nok's possession to Thorok. "..I do not deserve this treasure."
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 23, 2024 3:12:01 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Mar 15, 2016 15:11:36 GMT -8
Thorok listened, and at that moment, he understood how Theev'Nok could grasp such a handle as this one. The arms of the mighty Chieftan rippled and flexed with a spasm, tendons seen rippling about under his skin as if wild tentacles, eyes flared as he stared to the hilt of the handle, breaking his rage through mastering the grip of the hammer. As she finished off, he let out a quivering sigh, looking up to her to realize the offer.
".... what has come upon my precious Zar'Dura? She who sang with the earth itself, she who found honor in every blade of grass? What has become of her??" His voice was genuinely afraid upon how she reacted, pushing the war horn back to her side in retaliation to her offer. "You realize not how fond Theev'Nok was of y-you-" He had to gulp in between his sentence. "-A-And you dare claim yourself unworthy of his final gift to bestow???"
The hammer grew in weight, and eventually fell to his lap. From there, he slowly pulled himself forward, his left arm underhooking her right, and his right arm pulling her forth by her center back. From there, he hugged her with sorrow, with lament, with anger, a hundred emotions unto the hug. "My child... tell me.. what is wrong..?" He questioned, truly broken inside and now fearing he might lose another kin as well.
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Zar'Dura the Listener
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 250
Age: 19
Physical Description: At 6'3", Zar'Dura is somewhat small, even for a female Orc, and she is not as muscular as most. Her skin is a greenish-brownish-grey color that is common to her race, and her features, while not what humans would consider beautiful, are delicate for her kind, with full lips and two small tusks protruding upward from behind her lower lip. Her eyes are a startling amber-gold color, and her hair is black, worn in tightly-bound ropes often adorned with charms and rings carved of wood and stone.
--------------------------
Clothes and Equipment: Most frequently, she can be seen wearing a set of fur-and-leather robes, adorned with fangs, claws, and a single wolf femur, with a single strap that lays across her right shoulder, leaving the other bare. Occasionally, she wears armor of leather and iron, created for her by her parents. Her usual equipment consists of a simple wooden staff carved with runes.
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Player's online availability : Evenings. (EST)
Registered: Feb 10, 2016 19:17:02 GMT -8
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Post by Zar'Dura the Listener on Mar 15, 2016 15:35:43 GMT -8
His words, more so than having her extended hands pushed back toward herself with their precious cargo still intact, surprised Zar'Dura greatly. Lifting her head, she fixed eyes on Thorok that shifted constantly with tumultuous emotions; grief, sorrow, guilt, anger, and above all, a great darkness. Her hands dropped carefully back to her lap, cradling the horn against her stomach as she stared at the chieftain.. at least, until he pulled her into him. That arm fell to the side then, and as a silent, shuddering sob wracked her body, the words poured out of her.
"My Chieftain, I.. I sought only to find my place within this world, within the tribe.. to learn what I could and become the shaman the tribe needs me to be.. but.. perhaps I.. I overstepped myself, what I deserve, what I am worthy of..." Her eyes clenched shut, tears streaming unheeded as she dropped her brow against his shoulder. "I was too slow, too weak, to help Theev'Nok.. and I feared the Great Elder meant evil to the Earthwarden, and I followed them.. the Earthwarden spoke of my worth to the Great Elder, but he proclaimed me undeserving.. and when we returned, I was so angry, so tired of feeling caught between child and adult.. lost within my struggle to find myself.. and the Elder, he saw into my thoughts, saw my anger, my darkness.. he threatened to cast me out..."
Anguish was heard in the low rumble that spilled from her then, her body crumpling within his grasp as she heaved a breathless wail of sorrow. "And he was right to! I am not a child, not a woman, just the lowest of pupils, a stain upon the honor of my family and a useless consumption of space! I should have been the one to die upon the Stone Plains! Theev'Nok should be alive! He was loved and wanted and I am just a dishonor to the tribe, a blight festering in this village!" All the darkness within her poured out as she fought to breathe, a hoarse, nearly-silent screech of torment trickling off into nothing as she cried out.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 23, 2024 3:12:01 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Mar 15, 2016 15:51:53 GMT -8
Thorok continued to hold her as she poured her emotions out to him, seeing it truly giving him insight on what was wrong with her. She was lost, broken, confused..
The Chieftan continued to hold her, a hand going up to stroke her hair once, sitting her down in front of him as his eyes seemed much, much calmer now, as he had a child to encourage now. "Zar'Dura, the earth's Listener, witness me." He stared with golden eyes now, into the shattered amber orbs of Zar'Dura.
"Zar'Dura. Zar'Dura.... you are so young.. and you have yet to grow. So why is it you wish to judge yourself in these ways?" His hand lifted to stroke the tears from her eyes as he spoke, true emotion in himself now, tears streaming down his face as he maintained a strong voice. "You are lost... you place a thousand burdens upon yourself that are not called for yet. You truly wish to know what you are worthy of?" Thorok lifted the hammer, dropping the head onto the ground in between them. "You are worth his hammer, his horn. You are worth every stone in the plains and every tree in the Jungle. You are my kin, Zar'Dura. You are worth more than the words that surround you and the thoughts inside you."
His teeth stabbed and punctured his tongue upon her part of Theev'Nok. "You can't, you mustn't claim him upon you. That is not your burden to carry, but it is mine, Zar'Dura." He looked to her with his own pain now. "Had I done what the Chieftan must, Theev'Nok would live today. Yet I was a coward, a fool, and I sent those of the outlanders to settle the matters which contain a gravity above them. I.... I was a coward... I am a coward, don't you see..!!" He let his head hand there, holding onto her hands as he took a good four minutes to recover.
Staring back up to her, his face was truly a mix of anger and depression. "You should have died, yes, but you didn't. Do you know what this means, Zar'Dura? This means you were not meant to. There is something All-Maker has intended for you. There is going to be change, my child. Mighty, mighty change..." His hand stroked her face again symbolically, resting his forehead gently against the higher area of hers. "You are important... you must remember this. You are loved, you are wanted... Shorbolg.. he is not of himself. Shorbolg be damned he cast my own blood out from my own tribe. For this, he shall be dealt with, but now, now you must listen to me if you hadn't at all taken heed of what I must say: You are growing. You must realize yourself young, too young, your job now is to grow. Grow, and grow and grow until you shake the earth with your wakening to truly take up this hammer-" He lifted up the hammer, placing it to her chest for a moment. "-And find your cause in this world. But for now? You are a Wolf Cub, and there is nothing in the heavens and hells that you should be ashamed of for this." He waited for some response, if there was any. Any form of lashout, how he was wrong and she was still unworthy. That is, of course, what was expected from her.
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Zar'Dura the Listener
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 250
Age: 19
Physical Description: At 6'3", Zar'Dura is somewhat small, even for a female Orc, and she is not as muscular as most. Her skin is a greenish-brownish-grey color that is common to her race, and her features, while not what humans would consider beautiful, are delicate for her kind, with full lips and two small tusks protruding upward from behind her lower lip. Her eyes are a startling amber-gold color, and her hair is black, worn in tightly-bound ropes often adorned with charms and rings carved of wood and stone.
--------------------------
Clothes and Equipment: Most frequently, she can be seen wearing a set of fur-and-leather robes, adorned with fangs, claws, and a single wolf femur, with a single strap that lays across her right shoulder, leaving the other bare. Occasionally, she wears armor of leather and iron, created for her by her parents. Her usual equipment consists of a simple wooden staff carved with runes.
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Player's online availability : Evenings. (EST)
Registered: Feb 10, 2016 19:17:02 GMT -8
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Post by Zar'Dura the Listener on Mar 15, 2016 16:08:06 GMT -8
Despite the urge to curl into herself and disappear, Zar'Dura made herself meet Thorok's gaze when he bade her do so, to listen to his words. She sniffled, struggling to rein in her emotions as he reached up and swept the tears from her face, although she shook her head when he said she was worthy. The action was stopped by his brow pressing to hers, and her eyes widened. Such a show of respect and affection from the Chieftain... It touched something within her. Perhaps he was right... But no. She was nothing... Wasn't she? Theev'Nok had cared for her, had given his life.. for her.. and Daris'Fall... He had seemed so happy to receive her help, to have her near, to perhaps have the chance to be her friend.. had called her beautiful...
Light slowly began to dawn within her, warring against the darkness. It hadn't won, yet, but it was trying, at least. She gasped in surprise when the hammer, which had been resting between them, was lifted and pressed to her chest. The hand not clutching the warhorn rose, resting against the smooth metal. Thorok.. did he mean..? Was she to one day be worthy enough to bear the weapons of Theev'Nok the Brute, who had given his life that she may live? The idea gave her hope. She was but a wolf cub, still.. but perhaps.. not for much longer. And was it so bad to be one, for now? Was it truly as Thorok had said: She was reaching too far beyond herself, taking on things that did not belong on her shoulders? After a few long minutes, she slowly shook her head.
"I.. I am not worthy..." Perhaps that was what he expected.. but undoubtedly, what passed her lips next, as her head raised from staring at the hammer to pin him with a fervent amber gaze, was not. "..But I will become worthy.. I will honor Theev'Nok's memory.. by becoming a great shaman.. and proving that his sacrifice was not for nothing." She was still a tired, scared girl - it showed in her eyes. But she was also determined, and that was also plainly visible. She had always been assured of herself, confident in her abilities and her place in the tribe.. she simply needed to return to that. It would be hard.. perhaps the quiet companionship of someone her own age would help to stabilize her. Her thoughts again drifted to Daris'Fall. She had never had any true friends. Maybe it was time that changed.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 23, 2024 3:12:01 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Mar 15, 2016 16:17:18 GMT -8
Thorok sighed for a moment, listening to her words. Typical, expected of course. Then, then he was truly impressed, raising his eyes back up to her. "And only then will you understand your purpose. And with this fire inside of you, you have my respect." A hand was gently pounded against his own chest, spreading to lay a hand upon it.
Staring to her, he grunted, his legs cramped from sitting for so long and knees sore from pushing into the ground there as well. "I um, I do hope that you keep this between you and I, Zar'Dura. If others would gain wind of my appearance as such..." He paused for a moment, expecting the wolf cub to easily piece together what he was implying.
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Zar'Dura the Listener
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 250
Age: 19
Physical Description: At 6'3", Zar'Dura is somewhat small, even for a female Orc, and she is not as muscular as most. Her skin is a greenish-brownish-grey color that is common to her race, and her features, while not what humans would consider beautiful, are delicate for her kind, with full lips and two small tusks protruding upward from behind her lower lip. Her eyes are a startling amber-gold color, and her hair is black, worn in tightly-bound ropes often adorned with charms and rings carved of wood and stone.
--------------------------
Clothes and Equipment: Most frequently, she can be seen wearing a set of fur-and-leather robes, adorned with fangs, claws, and a single wolf femur, with a single strap that lays across her right shoulder, leaving the other bare. Occasionally, she wears armor of leather and iron, created for her by her parents. Her usual equipment consists of a simple wooden staff carved with runes.
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Player's online availability : Evenings. (EST)
Registered: Feb 10, 2016 19:17:02 GMT -8
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Post by Zar'Dura the Listener on Mar 15, 2016 16:26:39 GMT -8
Relinquishing her touch on the hammer, as she admitted it was far too heavy for her to wield, she clutched the horn to her chest and gazed at Thorok. Nodding at his words, she bowed her head, fist pressing to her heart. "I would never think to betray such a moment, Chieftain.. this will remain forever in my heart, spoken of to none." Leaning back, Zar'Dura grasped her staff and rose to her feet, took a few steps backwards, then bowed. "..Thank you."
With that, she turned and exited the hut. She was beyond weary, now. She trudged back to her family's hut, seeking a small meal and her bed. Tomorrow, she would seek out Daris'Fall again.. and apologize to him for her actions today. As well as speak to him on the other subject which had entered her mind. But first.. sleep.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 23, 2024 3:12:01 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Mar 16, 2016 12:25:38 GMT -8
A few minutes would keep the Chieftan in silence as she left, sighing heavily as he mustered up his general, masculine appearance. Sniffing sharply, the Chieftan scrunched his face, growling and barking for a moment to get the sense of maturity back within him. Dragging the hammer next to his throne, he slumped back down in his seat, staring up to the ceiling.
"Oh.... I am a poor Chieftan... What say you!?" He called out, turning his head to the side of the throne, resting his temple against it as he looked to the left now, a bit in a meloncholy mood at the moment. Only one person he went to in this state, and he hoped she could help.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 23, 2024 3:12:01 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Mar 16, 2016 12:39:10 GMT -8
Mal'Zeeth had been listening from a side room, and the obvious heartache of her husband as he spoke to the lost youngling Zar'Dura pulled at her heart - as did the young female's troubles. The loss of Theev'Nok had hit the both of them particularly hard, and Mal'Zeeth had been spending much time soothing Thorok's heart over the days since the Brute's death. She knew he would be calling for her once the young female left, and she was not disappointed. A smile appeared on her face when the chieftain's voice was heard, and she pushed aside the hanging furs of the doorway as she exited the room.
"I say that you are a wise and caring chieftain." Her soft, melodic voice was heard as Mal'Zeeth rounded the throne, her fingertips trailing across Thorok's cheek and down onto his shoulder, before she placed herself on his knees, the furs which swathed her form shifting and parting to reveal expanses of smooth green flesh. Pushing some of his hair back from his face, her hand slid around to rest on the back of his skull, as she leaned forward and pressed her brow to his. "A lesser male would have roared at her and sent her spiraling into darkness... You saved her, Thorok; just as I knew you would."
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Deleted
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Registered: Nov 23, 2024 3:12:01 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Mar 16, 2016 12:45:15 GMT -8
The introduction was calming, as always, as she sat down upon him. A heavy sigh was let out, only to inhale the alluring scent Mal'Zeeth brought, pushing himself back against her as they connected heads, his hands remaining at the armrests of the throne now. "But would a wise chief truly ignore what had caused her grief? Would this Chieftan truly had sent others to end his rival?" He questioned, looking back to her as he rested his head on her shoulder, sliding it upwards as he found proper rest.
Mal'Zeeth, the second wife of Thorok's. Of course, he found her the most treasuring. And why wouldn't he? She was forged by the earth undoubtedly to become a Chief's wife, the beauty in both soul and body fused to one being. From there his hands seemed less tense, taking his time as he allowed her hands to trace around his head, inhaling longingly, yet gently, and exhaling throughout his nose as well.
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Deleted
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Registered: Nov 23, 2024 3:12:01 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Mar 16, 2016 12:52:43 GMT -8
Both of her arms came around him as Thorok laid his head upon her shoulder, one hand gently combing her fingers through his hair while the other lay upon his upper back, her touch soft and soothing. "You did what you thought was best at the time, my heart. This tribe depends upon you, and it would have destroyed us all had you been lost. It was right to send others to handle the problem.. it simply failed to work as planned." The sweet, lilting cadence of her voice filled with varying emotions; love for her husband, confidence in his choices, sorrow at the prospect of losing him.
Tilting her head, she looked down at him, her green eyes gleaming in the light of the flames which illuminated the hut, painting the walls with shadows. "We will avenge the death of Theev'Nok. And you will not allow Shorbolg to harm this tribe. All will turn out as it is meant to." There was conviction, a deep and unshakable faith in all the greatness Thorok was capable of.
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Deleted
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Registered: Nov 23, 2024 3:12:01 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Mar 16, 2016 13:40:33 GMT -8
The Chieftan sighed as she spoke. "... I suppose I was right in my actions..." He concluded from her words, cutting into his mindset like sword unto dirt. He looked back up to her as she hugged him, closing his eyes as his chin was rested atop her shoulder now as she spoke again. "I will avenge him, no other. And he will fall by my hand." He sealed that promise with a hug again, sitting back in his throne, pulling her forth as she was hugging him.
".. Sing for me, Mal'Zeeth?" He questioned, looking to her. "I grow tired... I wish to rest." He wanted to sleep now, loosening himself as he closed his eyes, hands moving to her arms as he gently gripped on the smooth, delicate skin.
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