Fol-lu, Skywarden
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 123 
Age: Pretty Dang Old
Physical Description: Fol-lu has two forms, one which is his human form. In this form, he appears as an elegant looking man standing at an even 6’0’’ with long black hair. This is only his preferred mortal form, however, and he can take others if need be.
His draconic form is is that of an enormous feathered dragon, with a gleaming golden gem (the Dragon's Tear) embedded in his forehead, just between two golden eyes. The gem radiates with magical power, granted only to the Skywarden. The Skywarden's true form is roughly 200 feet long, and it is in this form that he is most powerful. He has the ability to decrease the size of this form at will.
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Clothes and Equipment: Fol-lu wears whatever is appropriate for the situation, whether that be a garb of silken finery or a set of comfortable traveling clothes. He also wears armor in battle at times, and commonly uses a polearm of legendary qualities. The weapon’s shaft is about as long as a short spear, except it is tipped with a long single edged blade that curves upwards at the tip for increased slashing power, this weapon is commonly referred to as a glaive. His weapon and armor can be summoned at will through the use of magic, since carrying around such things are an inconvenience one with power such as Fol-lu's does not have to deal with.
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Registered: Feb 15, 2016 20:58:32 GMT -8
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Post by Fol-lu, Skywarden on Mar 3, 2016 12:30:04 GMT -8
Fol-lu's brow furrows slightly for a moment as Raena replies. More and more a common theme was developing to Fol-lu with this woman. She had a rough and cold exterior, with her constant stone-faced expression and dry words. This would usually be off-putting to most, but to Fol-lu this only seemed to interest him. He would prop his elbows on the bar counter as he leaned forward now,
"Well I have a sort of proposal for you... I am in need of some allies to retrieve a certain artifact from a place called the 'Century Dungeon', if you know where that is exactly as well that would be useful. Of course this is assuming you do that sort of work. I am looking for fighters mostly, and you look like you are a very capable person, someone I would want to have at my side when I finally do decide to tackle this dungeon. In return I can pay you, I suppose or supply whatever else you'd want in exchange for your services," he dropped the proposal in a tone that was as casual as the one he had used to order breakfast. He figured she would accept at the notion of payment as he had easily picked her out for a mercenary previously.
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Raena Fletcher
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 152 
Age: 26
Physical Description: Standing at a height of six feet one inch, Raena Fletcher is a tall, very well-built young woman. Her skin is fairly pale, yet has a slight lively glow, and she has pale blue eyes that speak of a world weariness far beyond her age. Her snow white hair is always cut at about shoulder-length, silky and flowing and always well-kept despite her otherwise Spartan nature. She has full, though never painted lips, hardly ever seeming to turn up in a smile anymore. She has a long, deep scar running up from the bottom of her left jawline to the middle of her left cheek, marring her otherwise unblemished skin. Beneath her right eye, a tattoo in the shape of a fleur de lis has been inked. It looks almost ritual in nature, but its origins are as yet unknown.
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Clothes and Equipment: Over her travels, Raena has collected many pieces of heavy armour from her fallen foes and allies alike, melting it down and reforging it into a suit of plate maille unique to her and incredibly sturdy and heavy. The suit is stained forest green with bronze trim, a design embezzled in bronze on both pauldrons, one of a fleur de lis and the other a diving raven. Her bronze gorget has been shaped into the shape of a skull. In addition, a tattered orange-brown cloak wraps around her figure, obscuring her form in battle as well as adding an element of humility to her otherwise splendid armour. She does not tend to wear a helmet into battle, preferring the widest field of view as she can get.
As for armament, she tends to use a heavy enchanted two-handed flamberge sheathed upon her back as her primary weapon, with a short gladius and buckler as a backup. Finally, she carries a set of throwing knives within her cloak, and she's fairly proficient at aiming with them.
Outside of battle, she tends to wear simple linen clothing, preferring function and comfort over form. She hardly ever wears shoes outside her armour, either, having developed well-callused and strong feet to match her hands as a result.
Registered: Sept 7, 2015 16:22:46 GMT -8
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Post by Raena Fletcher on Mar 3, 2016 17:00:00 GMT -8
Raena stands up to leave, turning from Fol-lu...then he begins to speak again, and she stops. Then he mentions a reward, and she sits back down, turning to the Elf and arching a brow, her icy blue eyes examining his with a piercing stare. He looks to be genuine, so she places a gold on the table, ordering another pitcher of Dwarven Ale and two tankards.
"Aye, I've heard of it. I hear it's very dangerous, too. The appropriate rate that the Order offers for exceedingly dangerous operations is double the mercenary's usual fee, but given what I've heard of this dungeon, I will settle for a split of the loot we find there," she says.
The pitcher and tankards arrive, and Raena pours a drink for both of them before slamming down half of hers in one gulp. Dwarven Ale is a powerful brew, so the fact that neither the alcohol content nor the burn of the drink seem to have any effect on her might be seen as miraculous.
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Fol-lu, Skywarden
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 123
Age: Pretty Dang Old
Physical Description: Fol-lu has two forms, one which is his human form. In this form, he appears as an elegant looking man standing at an even 6’0’’ with long black hair. This is only his preferred mortal form, however, and he can take others if need be.
His draconic form is is that of an enormous feathered dragon, with a gleaming golden gem (the Dragon's Tear) embedded in his forehead, just between two golden eyes. The gem radiates with magical power, granted only to the Skywarden. The Skywarden's true form is roughly 200 feet long, and it is in this form that he is most powerful. He has the ability to decrease the size of this form at will.
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Clothes and Equipment: Fol-lu wears whatever is appropriate for the situation, whether that be a garb of silken finery or a set of comfortable traveling clothes. He also wears armor in battle at times, and commonly uses a polearm of legendary qualities. The weapon’s shaft is about as long as a short spear, except it is tipped with a long single edged blade that curves upwards at the tip for increased slashing power, this weapon is commonly referred to as a glaive. His weapon and armor can be summoned at will through the use of magic, since carrying around such things are an inconvenience one with power such as Fol-lu's does not have to deal with.
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Registered: Feb 15, 2016 20:58:32 GMT -8
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Post by Fol-lu, Skywarden on Mar 3, 2016 19:35:27 GMT -8
Fol-lu smirked ever so slightly when Raena came back, it seemed his promise of reward was enough to intrigue her, just as he thought. As she spells out her terms he simply nods, it seemed reasonable, except for one detail.
"I am only really in search of one thing in particular in the dungeon, I don't care about any of the other treasures that may be found there," he says, pausing to watch her down half of her tankard in one gulp, which was quite impressive, before continuing, "So do you know exactly how dangerous this place is? Or do you think the two of us would be enough for this place?" If they did in fact need more warriors, Fol-lu knew just the place to find them.
He would nod in thanks before taking a couple long draughts of the tankard of dwarven ale. Fol-lu himself was not a stranger to alcohol, although a tankard of this strong stuff would give him a buzz at least.
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Raena Fletcher
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 152
Age: 26
Physical Description: Standing at a height of six feet one inch, Raena Fletcher is a tall, very well-built young woman. Her skin is fairly pale, yet has a slight lively glow, and she has pale blue eyes that speak of a world weariness far beyond her age. Her snow white hair is always cut at about shoulder-length, silky and flowing and always well-kept despite her otherwise Spartan nature. She has full, though never painted lips, hardly ever seeming to turn up in a smile anymore. She has a long, deep scar running up from the bottom of her left jawline to the middle of her left cheek, marring her otherwise unblemished skin. Beneath her right eye, a tattoo in the shape of a fleur de lis has been inked. It looks almost ritual in nature, but its origins are as yet unknown.
================================
Clothes and Equipment: Over her travels, Raena has collected many pieces of heavy armour from her fallen foes and allies alike, melting it down and reforging it into a suit of plate maille unique to her and incredibly sturdy and heavy. The suit is stained forest green with bronze trim, a design embezzled in bronze on both pauldrons, one of a fleur de lis and the other a diving raven. Her bronze gorget has been shaped into the shape of a skull. In addition, a tattered orange-brown cloak wraps around her figure, obscuring her form in battle as well as adding an element of humility to her otherwise splendid armour. She does not tend to wear a helmet into battle, preferring the widest field of view as she can get.
As for armament, she tends to use a heavy enchanted two-handed flamberge sheathed upon her back as her primary weapon, with a short gladius and buckler as a backup. Finally, she carries a set of throwing knives within her cloak, and she's fairly proficient at aiming with them.
Outside of battle, she tends to wear simple linen clothing, preferring function and comfort over form. She hardly ever wears shoes outside her armour, either, having developed well-callused and strong feet to match her hands as a result.
Registered: Sept 7, 2015 16:22:46 GMT -8
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Post by Raena Fletcher on Mar 4, 2016 22:33:01 GMT -8
"I have no doubt that us two could handle it alone, but I have also heard that the depths are treacherous and full of grave danger. You may wish to call upon this other contact you have, or hire more mercenaries from the Order," responds Raena, examining Fol with those icy eyes of hers. Not a bad drinker. That should make him an...entertaining traveling companion, at the least.
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Fol-lu, Skywarden
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 123
Age: Pretty Dang Old
Physical Description: Fol-lu has two forms, one which is his human form. In this form, he appears as an elegant looking man standing at an even 6’0’’ with long black hair. This is only his preferred mortal form, however, and he can take others if need be.
His draconic form is is that of an enormous feathered dragon, with a gleaming golden gem (the Dragon's Tear) embedded in his forehead, just between two golden eyes. The gem radiates with magical power, granted only to the Skywarden. The Skywarden's true form is roughly 200 feet long, and it is in this form that he is most powerful. He has the ability to decrease the size of this form at will.
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Clothes and Equipment: Fol-lu wears whatever is appropriate for the situation, whether that be a garb of silken finery or a set of comfortable traveling clothes. He also wears armor in battle at times, and commonly uses a polearm of legendary qualities. The weapon’s shaft is about as long as a short spear, except it is tipped with a long single edged blade that curves upwards at the tip for increased slashing power, this weapon is commonly referred to as a glaive. His weapon and armor can be summoned at will through the use of magic, since carrying around such things are an inconvenience one with power such as Fol-lu's does not have to deal with.
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Registered: Feb 15, 2016 20:58:32 GMT -8
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Post by Fol-lu, Skywarden on Mar 5, 2016 16:38:44 GMT -8
Finishing his tankard of dwarven ale with a last satisfying sip, Fol-lu's gaze would fall upon Raena again, his own gaze was much like her, with a light blue tint.
"So you mentioned you knew the location of this place? Where would that be?" he asked curiously. Fol-lu should have included in his deal with Basacial directions to the Century Dungeon... the more he thought of the deal he made with the contract demon the more he regretted not making it more specific. Those demons sure were a tricky lot.
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Raena Fletcher
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 152
Age: 26
Physical Description: Standing at a height of six feet one inch, Raena Fletcher is a tall, very well-built young woman. Her skin is fairly pale, yet has a slight lively glow, and she has pale blue eyes that speak of a world weariness far beyond her age. Her snow white hair is always cut at about shoulder-length, silky and flowing and always well-kept despite her otherwise Spartan nature. She has full, though never painted lips, hardly ever seeming to turn up in a smile anymore. She has a long, deep scar running up from the bottom of her left jawline to the middle of her left cheek, marring her otherwise unblemished skin. Beneath her right eye, a tattoo in the shape of a fleur de lis has been inked. It looks almost ritual in nature, but its origins are as yet unknown.
================================
Clothes and Equipment: Over her travels, Raena has collected many pieces of heavy armour from her fallen foes and allies alike, melting it down and reforging it into a suit of plate maille unique to her and incredibly sturdy and heavy. The suit is stained forest green with bronze trim, a design embezzled in bronze on both pauldrons, one of a fleur de lis and the other a diving raven. Her bronze gorget has been shaped into the shape of a skull. In addition, a tattered orange-brown cloak wraps around her figure, obscuring her form in battle as well as adding an element of humility to her otherwise splendid armour. She does not tend to wear a helmet into battle, preferring the widest field of view as she can get.
As for armament, she tends to use a heavy enchanted two-handed flamberge sheathed upon her back as her primary weapon, with a short gladius and buckler as a backup. Finally, she carries a set of throwing knives within her cloak, and she's fairly proficient at aiming with them.
Outside of battle, she tends to wear simple linen clothing, preferring function and comfort over form. She hardly ever wears shoes outside her armour, either, having developed well-callused and strong feet to match her hands as a result.
Registered: Sept 7, 2015 16:22:46 GMT -8
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Post by Raena Fletcher on Mar 9, 2016 9:04:28 GMT -8
Raena finishes the last of her drink as well and stands, moving toward the door with nary a look back to make sure Fol is following.
"Come. I will take you to it. If I tell you, there is the chance that you will skip out on our deal and go there without me. I won't have that," explains Raena in those stony tones of hers.
She exits the tavern and leads her horse out of the stable, a beautiful white destrier with a beautiful red leather saddle and elegant-looking blinders made of mithril that second as face armour for the horse. The horse seems to be almost as well-armoured as its rider, light plates of mithril covering every weak spot. She mounts up and waits for Fol, pulling a skull-shaped pipe from her pack filled with cactus weed -- a mild hallucinogenic plant she picked up in the Phoenix State -- and lighting it in the meantime, puffing on it and blowing out rings of sweet-smelling smoke. The hallucinogenic properties are muted on her due to her Void connection, but the act of smoking is still cathartic.
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Fol-lu, Skywarden
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 123
Age: Pretty Dang Old
Physical Description: Fol-lu has two forms, one which is his human form. In this form, he appears as an elegant looking man standing at an even 6’0’’ with long black hair. This is only his preferred mortal form, however, and he can take others if need be.
His draconic form is is that of an enormous feathered dragon, with a gleaming golden gem (the Dragon's Tear) embedded in his forehead, just between two golden eyes. The gem radiates with magical power, granted only to the Skywarden. The Skywarden's true form is roughly 200 feet long, and it is in this form that he is most powerful. He has the ability to decrease the size of this form at will.
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Clothes and Equipment: Fol-lu wears whatever is appropriate for the situation, whether that be a garb of silken finery or a set of comfortable traveling clothes. He also wears armor in battle at times, and commonly uses a polearm of legendary qualities. The weapon’s shaft is about as long as a short spear, except it is tipped with a long single edged blade that curves upwards at the tip for increased slashing power, this weapon is commonly referred to as a glaive. His weapon and armor can be summoned at will through the use of magic, since carrying around such things are an inconvenience one with power such as Fol-lu's does not have to deal with.
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Registered: Feb 15, 2016 20:58:32 GMT -8
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Post by Fol-lu, Skywarden on Mar 9, 2016 9:34:15 GMT -8
Fol-lu follows Raena outside, a relaxed air about him as he does so. Finally, he would be on his way to the century dungeon, and with good company too he mused as he watched Raena lead out her horse.
Fol-lu would let out a low whistle between his teeth at the impressive beast, "A very beautiful horse," he would begin before slyly adding another line, "Not nearly as beautiful as it's rider, however." Before she responded to that however, Fol-lu seemed to move on to another issue,
"Well I don't have a horse at the moment, so could I ride double with you?" he asked. Fol-lu would climb onto the horse if she did indeed let him ride along with her.
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Raena Fletcher
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 152
Age: 26
Physical Description: Standing at a height of six feet one inch, Raena Fletcher is a tall, very well-built young woman. Her skin is fairly pale, yet has a slight lively glow, and she has pale blue eyes that speak of a world weariness far beyond her age. Her snow white hair is always cut at about shoulder-length, silky and flowing and always well-kept despite her otherwise Spartan nature. She has full, though never painted lips, hardly ever seeming to turn up in a smile anymore. She has a long, deep scar running up from the bottom of her left jawline to the middle of her left cheek, marring her otherwise unblemished skin. Beneath her right eye, a tattoo in the shape of a fleur de lis has been inked. It looks almost ritual in nature, but its origins are as yet unknown.
================================
Clothes and Equipment: Over her travels, Raena has collected many pieces of heavy armour from her fallen foes and allies alike, melting it down and reforging it into a suit of plate maille unique to her and incredibly sturdy and heavy. The suit is stained forest green with bronze trim, a design embezzled in bronze on both pauldrons, one of a fleur de lis and the other a diving raven. Her bronze gorget has been shaped into the shape of a skull. In addition, a tattered orange-brown cloak wraps around her figure, obscuring her form in battle as well as adding an element of humility to her otherwise splendid armour. She does not tend to wear a helmet into battle, preferring the widest field of view as she can get.
As for armament, she tends to use a heavy enchanted two-handed flamberge sheathed upon her back as her primary weapon, with a short gladius and buckler as a backup. Finally, she carries a set of throwing knives within her cloak, and she's fairly proficient at aiming with them.
Outside of battle, she tends to wear simple linen clothing, preferring function and comfort over form. She hardly ever wears shoes outside her armour, either, having developed well-callused and strong feet to match her hands as a result.
Registered: Sept 7, 2015 16:22:46 GMT -8
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Post by Raena Fletcher on Mar 9, 2016 11:20:53 GMT -8
Raena raises a brow at his compliment and opens her mouth to reply, though before she can get a word out he poses his question. She blinks those icy eyes of hers. Perhaps he's trying to woo her? Well, that is unexpected. But of course, it isn't working...mostly. She pushes such thoughts from her mind and clears her throat, nodding.
"Aye. Come. His name is Snow. I bought him off a Prizzian breeder years ago. He hasn't let me down yet," she says, patting the saddle behind her.
Once he's mounted, she spurs the horse into a brisk trot, working their way through Bayonne and out into the countryside, working her way toward Nireal.
"Before we go, I need to talk to someone in Nireal about procuring an airship. It would make our journey much easier," she says.
[Exit to Nireal]
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Fol-lu, Skywarden
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 123
Age: Pretty Dang Old
Physical Description: Fol-lu has two forms, one which is his human form. In this form, he appears as an elegant looking man standing at an even 6’0’’ with long black hair. This is only his preferred mortal form, however, and he can take others if need be.
His draconic form is is that of an enormous feathered dragon, with a gleaming golden gem (the Dragon's Tear) embedded in his forehead, just between two golden eyes. The gem radiates with magical power, granted only to the Skywarden. The Skywarden's true form is roughly 200 feet long, and it is in this form that he is most powerful. He has the ability to decrease the size of this form at will.
---------------------------------------------------------
Clothes and Equipment: Fol-lu wears whatever is appropriate for the situation, whether that be a garb of silken finery or a set of comfortable traveling clothes. He also wears armor in battle at times, and commonly uses a polearm of legendary qualities. The weapon’s shaft is about as long as a short spear, except it is tipped with a long single edged blade that curves upwards at the tip for increased slashing power, this weapon is commonly referred to as a glaive. His weapon and armor can be summoned at will through the use of magic, since carrying around such things are an inconvenience one with power such as Fol-lu's does not have to deal with.
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Registered: Feb 15, 2016 20:58:32 GMT -8
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Post by Fol-lu, Skywarden on Mar 9, 2016 12:31:26 GMT -8
Fol-lu holds onto Raena in front of him, wrapping his arms about her midriff to keep from falling backwards off the horse. In this way they ride out of Bayonne and to Nireal.
[Exit to Nireal]
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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 16:49:39 GMT -8
Having wandered along a large expanse of territory over a short period of time, Samael finds his legs weary from consistent travel. There were a low number of beasts that he came across on his journey, and had only managed to slay one or two at best. The creatures he typically sought were quite dangerous, and often times cunning..they continually eluded his traps and his attacks with their unique abilities, and it left him relatively frustrated. Alas, there was a break in sight, and he finds himself swaggering into what was considered a dive-bar. It looked grubby for sure, and he could not help but wrinkle his nose at the sights and smells around him. Surely, he could be found in a nicer establishment than this?
His stomach grumbles in protest, and a naked hand rests upon the sifting fabric along his abdomen to quell it. There was a hint of frustration upon his features as he opts to take a seat in the more darker regions of the tavern, kicking recently polished shoes upon the table. His heavy-set weapon was positioned off to the side, neatly resting up against the corner as he ordered himself several drinks. The small assortment of various meads, spices, and ales were carefully positioned on the end corners of the table, and he takes his time in acquiring tastes for each one.
"This filth tastes like water...bah." He mumbles, tossing one of the glasses aside in crass protest to the offense on his tongue. Truly, he was an individual that could typically be considered troublesome, especially as a customer. Some individuals nearby were already eyeing him with disdain, nervousness, or both. An odd fellow to come across, to be sure.
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Dame Oleanna D'Ignis
Committed
Bloody politicians.
Roleplay posts: 96
Age: None of your damn business.
Physical Description: At 6' even, Oleanna is tall for an elven women. She wears heavy plate armor, most of the time. Underneath she has a lithe, toned body, with moderate curves.
She likes to keep her helmet on, as most find her face off putting. Her most noticeable feature is a scar, that begins just above her left eyebrow. It runs straight down her face, directly over her eye, and stops at her jaw line. Her left eye is a milky grey color, and it is surrounded by a stylized tattoo of a black sun. If it wasn't for the scar, Oleanna's face would be a mask of flawless elven beauty. She has a delicate jaw, dainty chin, full lips, high cheek bones, and her right eyes is a vibrant green. Her skin is alabaster in tone, and glows with health. Her vibrant red hair is kept in a short military cut, leaving her knife like ears visible.
She has a reputation among other wandering knights as being exceptionally fierce. She wields primarily wields sword and fire magic in combat. She can also use ice magic having advanced fair enough in her art to understand she can manipulate heat not just create fire. She rarely turns down jobs even if the pay is poor. She lead her own group of female mercenaries called the Crimson Ladies which she disbanded a few years ago. She has won quite a few tournaments and slain many powerful beasts in her time. She has traveled all over the world and can survive most any where either by living off the land or living by her sword.
Clothes and Equipment: Plate armor, tower shield, long sword, water skin, travel rations, War horse, Lance, long bow and quiver, spell book, and the sun tattoo which acts as her magical focus.
Registered: Nov 18, 2015 12:07:10 GMT -8
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Post by Dame Oleanna D'Ignis on Mar 24, 2016 17:28:04 GMT -8
Suddenly a figure slams against Samael's table. More accurately the figure slams down on top of his table. The figure is a large man, broad shouldered, with a tangled mass of black hair and beard. The man lets out a pained groan or tries to at any rate. It appears as though his jaw has been broken. There is a loud metal clanking sound as another figure approaches. This figure is in form fitting full plate. The form it fits to is clearly female, though anything outside that is obscured.
"Aw after all that talk of making me scream I'd thought you'd be able to take a punch. Come on you mealy mouth whoreson! I'm not done teaching you manners!"
The man on the table does not respond. He has passed out. The woman walks up and stares down at him. Then out of spite punches him between the fork of the legs. The man tries to give out a broken howl of pain as he curls into a ball. The woman curses. It is hard to make out but it is a colorful commentary about men who are all cock no balls. After a moment she notices Samael.
"Oh. Sorry mate, didn't see you there. Just teaching this asshole some manners. Did I spill your drink?"
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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 17:36:44 GMT -8
There are times when Samael's temper gets the better of him, and he finds himself blacking out into a destructive path. In this case however, he simply blinks a few times as his assortment of drinks are immediately rendered null. Shards of glass stray across the table, just as he had been reaching for small flask of mysterious substances. His eyebrows furrow immediately as one such shard sticks him neatly in the cheek, withdrawing his arm as the fighting occurs before him. Notably sitting up, Samael's hand curled and uncurled reflexively. It takes quite a bit of restraint to simmer down, and he finds himself coming to a slow stand - eyeing the boisterous lass with a lidded glare.
"Yeah, I think you spilled every single one of them. You'll be replacing them, or we may be having some problems on our hands, lass. I don't appreciate you bringing -trash- to my seating arrangement, in this shit-hole. It's bad enough that the alcohol tastes like watered down apple-juice, but I won't deal with more headaches." He seethes, motioning to grip the whimpering man and literally tossing him toward the flooring. The impact is jarring, but he restrains himself just enough not to cause a scene. Samael arrogantly puffs out his chest, the fur coat along his body easily shifting about as a boot presses itself against the man's head.
However, he pays little mind to the quiet whimpers, and focuses his cold gaze upon the armored woman. "Now, tell me why you've decided to interrupt my night, and buy me some better alcohol." He commands, motioning to take his seat as he swipes off the shards of glass nearby. The shard that had been embedded in his cheek slowly slid out on its own accord, and the wound previously administered was all but naught.
"Samael's the name, remember it before I have to teach some lessons around here." He grumbles irritably.
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Dame Oleanna D'Ignis
Committed
Bloody politicians.
Roleplay posts: 96
Age: None of your damn business.
Physical Description: At 6' even, Oleanna is tall for an elven women. She wears heavy plate armor, most of the time. Underneath she has a lithe, toned body, with moderate curves.
She likes to keep her helmet on, as most find her face off putting. Her most noticeable feature is a scar, that begins just above her left eyebrow. It runs straight down her face, directly over her eye, and stops at her jaw line. Her left eye is a milky grey color, and it is surrounded by a stylized tattoo of a black sun. If it wasn't for the scar, Oleanna's face would be a mask of flawless elven beauty. She has a delicate jaw, dainty chin, full lips, high cheek bones, and her right eyes is a vibrant green. Her skin is alabaster in tone, and glows with health. Her vibrant red hair is kept in a short military cut, leaving her knife like ears visible.
She has a reputation among other wandering knights as being exceptionally fierce. She wields primarily wields sword and fire magic in combat. She can also use ice magic having advanced fair enough in her art to understand she can manipulate heat not just create fire. She rarely turns down jobs even if the pay is poor. She lead her own group of female mercenaries called the Crimson Ladies which she disbanded a few years ago. She has won quite a few tournaments and slain many powerful beasts in her time. She has traveled all over the world and can survive most any where either by living off the land or living by her sword.
Clothes and Equipment: Plate armor, tower shield, long sword, water skin, travel rations, War horse, Lance, long bow and quiver, spell book, and the sun tattoo which acts as her magical focus.
Registered: Nov 18, 2015 12:07:10 GMT -8
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Post by Dame Oleanna D'Ignis on Mar 24, 2016 19:09:38 GMT -8
"Oh! Well of course. Sorry to have inconvenience you."
Oleanna walks over to the bar and returns a moment later. She has a full tankard of ale in one hand. She walks over to Samael and just before she is in arms reach she stops.
"Wait! I just realized something."
She then chucks the ale into his face. As she does she begins to draw in heat from her surroundings.
"I just realized you're a puffed up asshole."
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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 19:19:43 GMT -8
Samael smirked as Oleanna had been so kind as to apologize for the mishaps, taking a seat once more as she returns with a pitcher of ale. He had awaited for her to set the drink down for him - but it would appear blood would needed to be shed tonight. As the contents spill upon him, his smile fades into a solemn line, which downturns into a blood-curdling, anger-filled snarl. As she speaks, his hand extends outward, the massive greatsword that was already resting against the wall coming to life. Runic symbol sparked along its ley-lines, pulsing an insidious purple as Samael was already upon the Dame. It was rather frightening to know that he could swing such a cleaver-like weapon with a single arm, the speed of which being near super-human. The blade shifts on an arc, aiming to diagonally slash across her armored plating and send her careening backward. Notably, he used the blunt portion of the blade as this is done, though it remained to be seen if she'd endure the strike, or attack before he did. Regardless of her actions, he's fuming, and she's now a target for his frustrations.
"I'm going to enjoy this far more than I should." He seethes.
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Dame Oleanna D'Ignis
Committed
Bloody politicians.
Roleplay posts: 96
Age: None of your damn business.
Physical Description: At 6' even, Oleanna is tall for an elven women. She wears heavy plate armor, most of the time. Underneath she has a lithe, toned body, with moderate curves.
She likes to keep her helmet on, as most find her face off putting. Her most noticeable feature is a scar, that begins just above her left eyebrow. It runs straight down her face, directly over her eye, and stops at her jaw line. Her left eye is a milky grey color, and it is surrounded by a stylized tattoo of a black sun. If it wasn't for the scar, Oleanna's face would be a mask of flawless elven beauty. She has a delicate jaw, dainty chin, full lips, high cheek bones, and her right eyes is a vibrant green. Her skin is alabaster in tone, and glows with health. Her vibrant red hair is kept in a short military cut, leaving her knife like ears visible.
She has a reputation among other wandering knights as being exceptionally fierce. She wields primarily wields sword and fire magic in combat. She can also use ice magic having advanced fair enough in her art to understand she can manipulate heat not just create fire. She rarely turns down jobs even if the pay is poor. She lead her own group of female mercenaries called the Crimson Ladies which she disbanded a few years ago. She has won quite a few tournaments and slain many powerful beasts in her time. She has traveled all over the world and can survive most any where either by living off the land or living by her sword.
Clothes and Equipment: Plate armor, tower shield, long sword, water skin, travel rations, War horse, Lance, long bow and quiver, spell book, and the sun tattoo which acts as her magical focus.
Registered: Nov 18, 2015 12:07:10 GMT -8
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Post by Dame Oleanna D'Ignis on Mar 24, 2016 20:54:10 GMT -8
"You're not just a puffed up asshole. You are a right idiot as well."
Oleanna simply took a long step backward. He was admittedly faster than a normal man. She however was a hell of a lot older than a normal man. She was also a hell of a lot more experienced. She saw the petty little out burst coming a mile away. Anyone who acted like he was owed the world after and accident was a dick with anger issues. Especially when she apologized right away. She watched the blade whistle by and continues to gather energy.
"So what exactly is your plan? Because you just escalated this from tavern brawl, to attempted assault with a deadly weapon. You do know that the guards don't over look it when people pull out weapons right? Or what you think you are tough enough to escape the Gauldin guard?"
As she goes she continues to draw in the surrounding heat.
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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 21:08:24 GMT -8
Samael seethes visibly as the woman avoids his strike, though he was quite aware of her gathering energy - he could feel the simmering heat nearby. His eyes lid as he realizes what he's done, but it was a bit late for him to back out. This was no ordinary woman, or he'd of had her being sent flying through a nearby wall. This sort of battle couldn't be done inside of the nearby tavern, and he wasn't fond of whatever she was waiting for. His blade comes to rest upon his shoulder, squinting at the woman as he abruptly flicks out of sight...he had to end this, and do so fast. He had to at least attempt to, anyway - and he potentially exposes himself as ebbings of dark magic radiate from where he once stood.
Perhaps she'd be able to track his movements, but the demonic entity known as Samael has his hand extended, a burning sigil appearing upon his palm as he briefly charged his attack. An orb of discoloration formed between the duo, before shooting forward and threatening to propel the woman straight through the tavern wall. It was a condensed form of concussive energy, though it remained tainted by his roots. If he manages to strike he with this, he'd be better off - otherwise, he'd have to prepare for a defensive posture to block whatever was coming.
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Dame Oleanna D'Ignis
Committed
Bloody politicians.
Roleplay posts: 96
Age: None of your damn business.
Physical Description: At 6' even, Oleanna is tall for an elven women. She wears heavy plate armor, most of the time. Underneath she has a lithe, toned body, with moderate curves.
She likes to keep her helmet on, as most find her face off putting. Her most noticeable feature is a scar, that begins just above her left eyebrow. It runs straight down her face, directly over her eye, and stops at her jaw line. Her left eye is a milky grey color, and it is surrounded by a stylized tattoo of a black sun. If it wasn't for the scar, Oleanna's face would be a mask of flawless elven beauty. She has a delicate jaw, dainty chin, full lips, high cheek bones, and her right eyes is a vibrant green. Her skin is alabaster in tone, and glows with health. Her vibrant red hair is kept in a short military cut, leaving her knife like ears visible.
She has a reputation among other wandering knights as being exceptionally fierce. She wields primarily wields sword and fire magic in combat. She can also use ice magic having advanced fair enough in her art to understand she can manipulate heat not just create fire. She rarely turns down jobs even if the pay is poor. She lead her own group of female mercenaries called the Crimson Ladies which she disbanded a few years ago. She has won quite a few tournaments and slain many powerful beasts in her time. She has traveled all over the world and can survive most any where either by living off the land or living by her sword.
Clothes and Equipment: Plate armor, tower shield, long sword, water skin, travel rations, War horse, Lance, long bow and quiver, spell book, and the sun tattoo which acts as her magical focus.
Registered: Nov 18, 2015 12:07:10 GMT -8
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Post by Dame Oleanna D'Ignis on Mar 25, 2016 11:23:59 GMT -8
When Oleanna felt the asshole draw on demonic energy she went from pissed to furious. Her hand flicks up just as his does and she barks out.
"IGNIS LANCEAM!"
A streak of white hot flame bursts from her palm. The lance of flame engulfs his small spell as it streaks towards him. The difference in energy between a charged spell and a quick cast was massive. Her lance is as fast as a bolt of lightning and will have a similar effect on him if it hits. Either way the fight would be over soon. She can hear the boots of the guards approaching. Fetched by the people who had fled the tavern when the bastard started swinging his sword.
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