Warlord Ei Halvard
Established
Roleplay posts: 40 
Age: 180
Physical Description: Of the Dwarven race, Ei Halvard is about 4'5" (relatively tall for a dwarven male), has jet black hair, and thick stony muscles.
Clothes and Equipment: Bronze armor, iron boots, lead alloy axe.
Registered: Apr 2, 2016 16:08:04 GMT -8
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Post by Warlord Ei Halvard on Apr 2, 2016 19:11:54 GMT -8
Wyldthorn Barracks is one of the most sadistic, and brilliant, training facilities in all of Alban. One of the previous warlords had the audacity to build a barracks in the middle of the Wyld!To be precise, the barracks is located passed the very outskirts of Axe's borders. It takes a rather significant escort just to make sure the recruits arrive safely. Once there, the trainees are expected to organize a defense against constant waves of horrific and mighty beasts. Every waking shift returns to their beds covered in blood and gore, while the next shifts eats their gruel and and drinks herbal tea for breakfast, knowing this might be their last day on earth. Every recruit is expected to help secure a kill every single day. The Barracks is easily the most difficult challenge that a young warrior can face. Some dwarves are sent here as punishment, while others are sent as part of elite training. Hence there is a great mix and match of warriors of varying skill levels. Either way, one's honor increases the longer one is able to survive here. Criminals have regained their honor here, and future Justicars have come of age here. Both have also met their end here. It is named Wyldthorn Barracks because it's considered a thorn in the side of the creatures of the Wyld, and because its existence stabs at the enclave. The Fae of the Wyld generally do not approve of the Barracks, but will not risk military action against it for fear of inciting the wrath of the metallurgists, whom the Fae fear. Some of the more audacious Fae will come to watch the dwarves do battle against the creatures of their realm. Some will place bets (mostly in favor of the creatures), though the more benevolent ones will offer new dwarven recruits advice on how to survive. Warlord Ei Halvard currently holds the record for longest time survived here, at two years and three months. According to a justicar overseeing the facility, "Some of us wanted to make him the next warlord as soon as we found out he actually wanted to stay longer!"
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Eirwynn Rodrick
Established
Roleplay posts: 40 
Age: 28
Physical Description: Of average height for a human, Eirwynn is 5'5" and curvaceous, with slightly-tanned skin and a sturdy bone structure. She has dark brown hair that falls to just past her shoulders, and hazel eyes that have often been described as 'mercurial', as their exact coloring shifts between varying shades of brown, gold, and green depending upon her mood. Her face is attractive, if not beautiful in an eye-catching way, and she has often been described as 'cute' - which is a surefire way to end up with a sword pointed at your face. She has a smattering of scars across her body, including one across the right side of her face that bisects her eyebrow and continues down below her eye, but that's likely to be expected, given her chosen career.
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Clothes and Equipment: Her chosen attire generally consists of a pair of tight-fitting brown breeches, paired with a low-cut white shirt with slightly-loose sleeves, and a pair of low-heeled brown leather boots that come to a stop just shy of her knees. This is occasionally accessorized with any of a number of underbust corsets in varying colors, and/or a long brown coat that she often wears open. Typical accessories consist of a two brown leather belts - one wide, which seems to be purely for ornamental purposes (aside from holding her sword's scabbard), and a thinner one which carries a few pouches that hold various items (compass, coins, and a few heinous powders, mostly) - a red sash tied around her hips, and a number of charms and beads strung throughout her hair. She has two necklaces that she never takes off, one bearing a ship's wheel charm, and the other bearing a trio of roughly-cut semi-precious stones in black, blue, and white. She has a schiavona which never leaves her side, even when she's sleeping. What is perhaps her most distinctive possession is an oddly-shaped wood-and-metal club that she wears at her hip; despite its appearance, the item is in fact a weapon, and a projectile one at that, which she fondly refers to as her 'Thumper', given the noise the projectile bludgeoning instrument makes when it impacts its intended target - usually someone's skull. Enchanted by one of the rare wizards (who happens to be a close family friend) of Alban, the instrument is bespelled to return to her hand once thrown. It's her favored method of disciplining crew members, and they've all learned to fear the odd weapon, especially when it begins to emanate smoke as a sign of its owner's annoyance.
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Player's online availability : Variable; usually afternoons and evenings. (PST)
Registered: Apr 1, 2016 10:59:40 GMT -8
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Post by Eirwynn Rodrick on May 5, 2016 22:29:44 GMT -8
The airship came gliding in above the tops of the trees, and upon spotting the clearing that harbored the barracks facility, began spiraling down toward it. Their speed slowed as they descended and the sails were pulled in, men clambering through the rigging with ease. Coming to a halt on the leeward side of the building, the anchor was dropped to hold the flying vessel in place, and then men began to scramble to lower a rope ladder for Averin to descend. Eirwynn and Arthur were going to remain on the ship - as was the entirety of the crew. Shore leave was denied and everyone was to be on high alert, so as to prepare for any attacks of creatures from the Wyld.. or any attempts by the Dwarves to commandeer the Shrike.
"If'n ya need us, yer lordship, we'll join ye.. but we'd prefer t'remain aboard, if 't'all possible. Just say th' word an' we'll go landside." This was said with a firm nod, before she turned to Arthur, who was looking at her expectantly. The two retreated away from the wheel and into his cabin, engaged in a deep conversation. Should anyone happen to keep looking at them as they disappeared through the doors, and catch a glimpse just before they swung fully shut, they'd see the pair wrapped in a tender embrace, that looked very out of place given their rather rough natures.
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King Averin Arach
Dedicated
Working on the whole king thing
Roleplay posts: 284
Age: 21
Physical Description: Averin is a tall man, standing at six foot two. He has a build equal parts lithe and powerful. Broad shouldered, well muscled, but possessed of an undeniable grace. He reminds many of a tiger. He moves with a slow, languid, precision, that gives him undeniable aura of deadly skill.
Averin is a handsome man. With a square cut jaw, straight nose, and prominent cheek bones. His brown eyes are dark and alluring. Sometimes they sparkle with kindness, other times gleaming with baleful intent. His habitual expression is a half smile.
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Clothes and Equipment: Averin prefers to wear his silver steel half plate. One pauldron stylize to look like a hawks head. Combined with his large red cloak, he has a very distinctive look. His preferred weapon is a bastard sword. His blade is an oddity. The hilt is worn and weathered, and seems to be ancient. The blade though looks freshly forged. The shining metal gleams brightly in light, and it's edge razor sharp. Both his armor and sword posses some degree of magic, though exactly how much is known only to him.
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Registered: Mar 21, 2016 6:59:05 GMT -8
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Post by King Averin Arach on May 6, 2016 12:26:11 GMT -8
Averin stepped off the airship and marveled at the garrison. He had heard the stories of course, the dwarves training ground. Where the best of the best learned to fight against The Wyld. He knew he would eventually stand before it, but he was still awed. He could sense the determination and strength of the people who built this fort. Those who dared to defy the most dangerous woods in the world just to become better warriors. Averin bows low in respect to the fort itself. Once day he hopes to test himself with a proper tour of duty here, for now though he needs to find the warlord. They had an Archon to slay.
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Warlord Ei Halvard
Established
Roleplay posts: 40
Age: 180
Physical Description: Of the Dwarven race, Ei Halvard is about 4'5" (relatively tall for a dwarven male), has jet black hair, and thick stony muscles.
Clothes and Equipment: Bronze armor, iron boots, lead alloy axe.
Registered: Apr 2, 2016 16:08:04 GMT -8
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Post by Warlord Ei Halvard on May 6, 2016 14:42:05 GMT -8
The warlord had come out to meet him as soon as the ship was in sight. There was already some chaos happening on the other side of the compound. A small group of dwarfs was doing battle against a giant bear. They seemed to be holding their own however, and as the warlord walked up to Averin, he didn't seem very concerned.
The warlord was accompanied by two other dwarfs, both extremely powerful looking and clothed in trimmed steel armor. One of them had blond hair and a golden fan with him, and the other had wild red hair and carried with him a bag of heavy pewter spheres. The warlord nodded his head in greeting. "I'm going to have to insist you bow, for you are in the presence of one who ranks with me as an elder brother. Justicar Nachton." The man with the pewter spheres stepped forward and addressed Averin. "So this is the human boy who wishes to save Alban. Intriguing! I have seen fit to lead the ground forces myself along with my friend here!" The jovial dwarf patted the warlord on the shoulder. "And my other friend here, Lieutenant Garnock, will be joining you. He will help operate the launcher." Garnock stepped forward. "It is my honor to serve the future peace maker of Alban." The other two smirked at their junior.
"Garnok will be a temporary remember of your crew." The warlord continued. "Your ship will fire seamlessly as though he were one of your own. His powers are true, and his loyalty is unwavering. Our operation-"
Their talk was interrupted by a massive roar as the bear seemed to be gaining the upper hand. Nachton sighed. Pulling out one of his pewter spheres, he gripped it with all his might and then started walking towards the other side of the compound.
"As I was saying, our ground forces will march towards the archon's lair. You will be following us from above. We will draw it out, and then your people will strike the creature from above. Be prepared to reload and fire again. I can assure even with the weapon this will not be eas-"
From the other side of the compound, there was a loud roar of agony and a large crashing sound. A few seconds later Garnock returned looking rather smug. "Ah, good to know those decades in the high chair haven't deadened my aim." He rolled his arm around his shoulders. "Still got it." The warlord nodded with a grin at his senior. "One more thing. It is possible a battalion of renegade Fae will be joining us. They may fight against us, or they may be on our side. You must watch their movements carefully. You do not want to harm them if they are helping us. If all three of our races should defeat the archon together, this day will go down in history." The warlord called out to he pirates still on board the vessel. "So try not to mess up!"
If everyone was in agreement, the Warlord would point them in the direction of the archon's lair. "If there are no other questions, we shall march immediately!"
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King Averin Arach
Dedicated
Working on the whole king thing
Roleplay posts: 284
Age: 21
Physical Description: Averin is a tall man, standing at six foot two. He has a build equal parts lithe and powerful. Broad shouldered, well muscled, but possessed of an undeniable grace. He reminds many of a tiger. He moves with a slow, languid, precision, that gives him undeniable aura of deadly skill.
Averin is a handsome man. With a square cut jaw, straight nose, and prominent cheek bones. His brown eyes are dark and alluring. Sometimes they sparkle with kindness, other times gleaming with baleful intent. His habitual expression is a half smile.
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Clothes and Equipment: Averin prefers to wear his silver steel half plate. One pauldron stylize to look like a hawks head. Combined with his large red cloak, he has a very distinctive look. His preferred weapon is a bastard sword. His blade is an oddity. The hilt is worn and weathered, and seems to be ancient. The blade though looks freshly forged. The shining metal gleams brightly in light, and it's edge razor sharp. Both his armor and sword posses some degree of magic, though exactly how much is known only to him.
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Registered: Mar 21, 2016 6:59:05 GMT -8
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Post by King Averin Arach on May 6, 2016 18:55:49 GMT -8
Averin bows to the three dwarfs. Not a full formal bow, but one that conveyed respect if not complete deference. He listens to the instructions with rapt attention. Averin may be a military commander in his own right, but this was the dwarves operation. Not only that they had more experience fighting beasts of The Wyld. When mention of a ground assault comes up he grins.
"One question Warlord. I am no air sailor, I am a knight. I assume there is no problem with me and my men joining the ground assault. We have experience fighting monstrous creatures so we shouldn't interfere with your force."
Once Averin receives a positive answer he would relay the orders to Arthur. Then he would gather his own troops and join with the ground force. It was time to march out and prove his worth. His squad consisted of seven young knights similar armed as himself. Without horses they wouldn't be as effective, but then again horses wouldn't work in the Wyld.
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Captain Arthur Maddock
Established
Roleplay posts: 36
Age: 28
Physical Description: Arthur is of roughly average height for a human male at 5'10", with a light but solid build of essentially no body fat at about 160 lbs. His figure, nonetheless, is very striking thanks to his hair (so pale blonde as to look white in almost any light) and eyes (ostensibly a light grey, but appearing silver in many settings). A very quick way to get on the Captain's bad side is to call his face androgynous, pretty, or anything of the sort -- the eccentric pirate has heard it often before, and generally responds violently. Considering his profession, Arthur has incredibly few scars... whether due to prowess in battle or cunningly avoiding it being a matter of some debate outside of his crew.
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Clothes and Equipment: Arthur is almost always clad in one of several identical outfits consisting of his black tricorn hat trimmed in a dark red (and adorned with what the Captain often claims is "a genuine pixie skull, mate"), a lace-up white shirt generally worn unlaced at the top to help him stay cool and because he thinks it looks dashing, black lace-up pants worn laced up and belted with a length of silk cloth because it wouldn't do to have one's pants fall down in a boarding action, very fine black leather boots, and generally a black long coat with a very elaborate, high collar to shield him from both sun and inclement weather. Like many sailors he wears some few ornaments, primarily beads, in his hair -- even the few he wears tend to click together when he turns his head rapidly or in a strong wind. His only jewelry consists of an old silver signet ring bearing caravels on waves and, like almost every member of the Silver Shrike's crew, a simple necklace bearing a ship's wheel charm. Arthur keeps several daggers concealed about his person, like any sensible brigand, and carries his schiavona -- a basket-hilted blade much like a slightly shorter, broader rapier, a weapon of war rather than one for dueling and useful for both cut and thrust -- at all times, including to the head or bed. He has been known to carry a hand-crossbow for the initial stages of a boarding action.
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Player's online availability : Variable. PST.
Registered: Apr 1, 2016 14:16:58 GMT -8
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Post by Captain Arthur Maddock on May 7, 2016 21:55:38 GMT -8
It had seemed a poor idea to Arthur for the Captain and First Mate to spend much time secluded in his cabin. Thus, before Averin (or a messenger) could return, the Captain strolled quite casually out of his cabin, clearly finishing a conversation. "...so I think we should keep that route in mind once we finish our current business."
That handled, Arthur took up his standard position at the helm. His left hand rested nonchalantly on the wheel; his right held the full-sized crossbow he'd apparently retrieved from his quarters. It was cocked and loaded, currently rested across his left forearm for support. The bolt looked odd; small engravings covered all of it save the tip and fletching. They looked like some kind of runes, and there were a variety of them.
Maddock's appearance was as it ever was, except that he seemed to have polished that silvery skull-looking device on his hat. "Wonder how tough this beasty is?"
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Eirwynn Rodrick
Established
Roleplay posts: 40
Age: 28
Physical Description: Of average height for a human, Eirwynn is 5'5" and curvaceous, with slightly-tanned skin and a sturdy bone structure. She has dark brown hair that falls to just past her shoulders, and hazel eyes that have often been described as 'mercurial', as their exact coloring shifts between varying shades of brown, gold, and green depending upon her mood. Her face is attractive, if not beautiful in an eye-catching way, and she has often been described as 'cute' - which is a surefire way to end up with a sword pointed at your face. She has a smattering of scars across her body, including one across the right side of her face that bisects her eyebrow and continues down below her eye, but that's likely to be expected, given her chosen career.
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Clothes and Equipment: Her chosen attire generally consists of a pair of tight-fitting brown breeches, paired with a low-cut white shirt with slightly-loose sleeves, and a pair of low-heeled brown leather boots that come to a stop just shy of her knees. This is occasionally accessorized with any of a number of underbust corsets in varying colors, and/or a long brown coat that she often wears open. Typical accessories consist of a two brown leather belts - one wide, which seems to be purely for ornamental purposes (aside from holding her sword's scabbard), and a thinner one which carries a few pouches that hold various items (compass, coins, and a few heinous powders, mostly) - a red sash tied around her hips, and a number of charms and beads strung throughout her hair. She has two necklaces that she never takes off, one bearing a ship's wheel charm, and the other bearing a trio of roughly-cut semi-precious stones in black, blue, and white. She has a schiavona which never leaves her side, even when she's sleeping. What is perhaps her most distinctive possession is an oddly-shaped wood-and-metal club that she wears at her hip; despite its appearance, the item is in fact a weapon, and a projectile one at that, which she fondly refers to as her 'Thumper', given the noise the projectile bludgeoning instrument makes when it impacts its intended target - usually someone's skull. Enchanted by one of the rare wizards (who happens to be a close family friend) of Alban, the instrument is bespelled to return to her hand once thrown. It's her favored method of disciplining crew members, and they've all learned to fear the odd weapon, especially when it begins to emanate smoke as a sign of its owner's annoyance.
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Player's online availability : Variable; usually afternoons and evenings. (PST)
Registered: Apr 1, 2016 10:59:40 GMT -8
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Post by Eirwynn Rodrick on May 7, 2016 21:59:18 GMT -8
Eirwynn trailed him out of the cabin, looking mildly disgruntled by whatever it was they had discussed. "Aye, Cap'n." Crossing her arms, she took up a position to his right, as she usually did. And began to wait impatiently for the both of them to receive word about what their next move was.
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Warlord Ei Halvard
Established
Roleplay posts: 40
Age: 180
Physical Description: Of the Dwarven race, Ei Halvard is about 4'5" (relatively tall for a dwarven male), has jet black hair, and thick stony muscles.
Clothes and Equipment: Bronze armor, iron boots, lead alloy axe.
Registered: Apr 2, 2016 16:08:04 GMT -8
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Post by Warlord Ei Halvard on May 8, 2016 11:10:25 GMT -8
(Now comes the fun part.) The warlord and the justicar agreed to Averin's request and the lieutenant boarded the Shrike. As soon as preparations were complete, the ground forces would march along the ground towards the Archon's lair, and the airship would follow above. After an hour or so of fighting through moderately tough wildlide, they would arrive at a particularly nasty section of forest. The floor was covered in vines which practically shivered and writhed with raw natural energy. The insects were several times larger than normal, and they could be seen feeding on massive carcasses of unknown giant mammals. The tree tops could hardly even be seen, so the airship would be forced to pull up higher, out of site of the ground forces. Eventually however they would reach a clearing, which was suspicious considering how much wildlife there was up until that point. As soon as they entered it, shivers would run up the spines of the ground crew and even the pirates on board the airship would feel a foreboding presence. The clearing would be covered in an unnaturally green grass, like giant moss. The overall terrain would also be at a slight incline leading downward, as if the clearing was an impact crater. Both the warlord and the lieutenant briefed their respective crews on what this place was. "This spot could be best described as a natural energy well, a place that goes beyond the mere intersecting of ley lines. It is here where the archon gathers strength..." The Justicar grabbed his pewter spheres. The warlord raised his ax. The lieutenant manned the firestorm launcher. Then it came. It started as a distant roar, but then the creature was so large and powerful that it closed the gap in mere seconds. But as soon as the sound was heard the warlord grabbed his ax and cried out a mighty battle cry. His metallurgic powers activated. With his boots he quickly picked up speed. His bronze armor lent him strength to wield his ax, which being a lead alloy suddenly became several times heavier than normal. Even so, he had barely made it a fraction of the way into the clearing when archon broke through the treeline!
 The grotesque thing was pure teeth, spikes, and spines. It was fused with plant life and was essentially the most alive thing within thousands of miles. Its massive jaws threatened to close in just as the warlord swung his ax into the air. A mighty boom rocked the clearing as the ax connecting, sending the creature recoiling. However, it was not deterred in the slightest and redoubled its attack. Another mighty boom was heard as the might Justicar's spheres slammed into its head. The creature was stunned briefly, but that wouldn't last long.
It was at this time that the vines from the outside of the clearing suddenly came out of the tree line and themselves whipped and lashed at the dwarfs and Averin's men from behind.
The warlord cried out to Averin. "Me and the Justicar will keep the Archon busy while the Shrike fires upon it with the cannon and whatever else they've got. You and your men, hold off the vines and watch our backs. Our dwarfs will help you. Go go go!" The warlord prepared for another mighty swing, and the Justicar another toss from his cannon of an arm.
(Have fun!) |
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King Averin Arach
Dedicated
Working on the whole king thing
Roleplay posts: 284
Age: 21
Physical Description: Averin is a tall man, standing at six foot two. He has a build equal parts lithe and powerful. Broad shouldered, well muscled, but possessed of an undeniable grace. He reminds many of a tiger. He moves with a slow, languid, precision, that gives him undeniable aura of deadly skill.
Averin is a handsome man. With a square cut jaw, straight nose, and prominent cheek bones. His brown eyes are dark and alluring. Sometimes they sparkle with kindness, other times gleaming with baleful intent. His habitual expression is a half smile.
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Clothes and Equipment: Averin prefers to wear his silver steel half plate. One pauldron stylize to look like a hawks head. Combined with his large red cloak, he has a very distinctive look. His preferred weapon is a bastard sword. His blade is an oddity. The hilt is worn and weathered, and seems to be ancient. The blade though looks freshly forged. The shining metal gleams brightly in light, and it's edge razor sharp. Both his armor and sword posses some degree of magic, though exactly how much is known only to him.
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Registered: Mar 21, 2016 6:59:05 GMT -8
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Post by King Averin Arach on May 8, 2016 15:33:41 GMT -8
Even the moderatly dangerous beasts of The Wyld proved to be a challenge for the Silver Hawks. The monsters they faced were far more aggressive than even the wyverns the youths had hunted. Still they acquitted themselves admirably adjusting quickly and employing exceptional group tactics. When they came to the clearing Averin waited patiently for their orders. Handling the vines was not the most galmorous work, but he saw the wisdom in allowing the metallurgist handle the archon. The beast was massive, aggressive, and filled with power. Averin would likely lose men trying to take it out. Instead he had his halbereders and axmen get to work hacking away at the vines, while his swords men guarded them.
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Captain Arthur Maddock
Established
Roleplay posts: 36
Age: 28
Physical Description: Arthur is of roughly average height for a human male at 5'10", with a light but solid build of essentially no body fat at about 160 lbs. His figure, nonetheless, is very striking thanks to his hair (so pale blonde as to look white in almost any light) and eyes (ostensibly a light grey, but appearing silver in many settings). A very quick way to get on the Captain's bad side is to call his face androgynous, pretty, or anything of the sort -- the eccentric pirate has heard it often before, and generally responds violently. Considering his profession, Arthur has incredibly few scars... whether due to prowess in battle or cunningly avoiding it being a matter of some debate outside of his crew.
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Clothes and Equipment: Arthur is almost always clad in one of several identical outfits consisting of his black tricorn hat trimmed in a dark red (and adorned with what the Captain often claims is "a genuine pixie skull, mate"), a lace-up white shirt generally worn unlaced at the top to help him stay cool and because he thinks it looks dashing, black lace-up pants worn laced up and belted with a length of silk cloth because it wouldn't do to have one's pants fall down in a boarding action, very fine black leather boots, and generally a black long coat with a very elaborate, high collar to shield him from both sun and inclement weather. Like many sailors he wears some few ornaments, primarily beads, in his hair -- even the few he wears tend to click together when he turns his head rapidly or in a strong wind. His only jewelry consists of an old silver signet ring bearing caravels on waves and, like almost every member of the Silver Shrike's crew, a simple necklace bearing a ship's wheel charm. Arthur keeps several daggers concealed about his person, like any sensible brigand, and carries his schiavona -- a basket-hilted blade much like a slightly shorter, broader rapier, a weapon of war rather than one for dueling and useful for both cut and thrust -- at all times, including to the head or bed. He has been known to carry a hand-crossbow for the initial stages of a boarding action.
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Player's online availability : Variable. PST.
Registered: Apr 1, 2016 14:16:58 GMT -8
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Post by Captain Arthur Maddock on May 8, 2016 18:13:54 GMT -8
Arthur had conferred briefly with their temporary dwarf crewman, trying to establish a definite range for the weapon, while following the ground party. The Shrike had been able to keep pace even with only battle sail set, quite easily, and as soon as the beast came into sight Arthur maneuvered the ship to that established range. He kept the monstrosity on the ship's starboard side, keeping the vessel steady while the weapon was fired... and then it was, the barrel flung outward toward the massive creature. Between Arthur's ship-handling and the dwarf's aim, the massive creature made a pretty easy target. Arthur didn't wait to see the results, though. "Dwarf, get yerself to the port side! Starboard battery, reload!"
The moment the barrel had cleared the ship, Arthur was spinning the wheel 'round as fast as he could. One could almost feel a slight crackle of mana in the air as the ship strained to bring itself to his new heading. In just a few moments the port side of the Shrike was to the creature, bringing the other weapon to bear on it... and as their new crewman had had sufficient warning, he was able to fire quite swiftly again, loosing another barrel at about the same time the first would hit either beast or terrain. Meanwhile the crew on the starboard side had loaded another barrel, making the weapon ready for the dwarf that was probably realizing about now that this battle would be somewhat strenuous for him. "Dwarf, starboard! Port, reload!"
Arthur was already swinging the Silver Shrike around, bringing her starboard side to bear again. The vessel was approaching slightly closer to the aberration with each of those swift tacks, but most of its movement was lateral. Each time Arthur had shouted to the crew, junior officers belowdecks had taken up his orders and elaborated. An order of 'reload' caused those men to assign specific tasks to the gun crews; some seamen cocked the weapon, and others muscled the next barrel into place. It was a smooth evolution, doubly so considering how little time they had had to drill with their new toys.
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Eirwynn Rodrick
Established
Roleplay posts: 40
Age: 28
Physical Description: Of average height for a human, Eirwynn is 5'5" and curvaceous, with slightly-tanned skin and a sturdy bone structure. She has dark brown hair that falls to just past her shoulders, and hazel eyes that have often been described as 'mercurial', as their exact coloring shifts between varying shades of brown, gold, and green depending upon her mood. Her face is attractive, if not beautiful in an eye-catching way, and she has often been described as 'cute' - which is a surefire way to end up with a sword pointed at your face. She has a smattering of scars across her body, including one across the right side of her face that bisects her eyebrow and continues down below her eye, but that's likely to be expected, given her chosen career.
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Clothes and Equipment: Her chosen attire generally consists of a pair of tight-fitting brown breeches, paired with a low-cut white shirt with slightly-loose sleeves, and a pair of low-heeled brown leather boots that come to a stop just shy of her knees. This is occasionally accessorized with any of a number of underbust corsets in varying colors, and/or a long brown coat that she often wears open. Typical accessories consist of a two brown leather belts - one wide, which seems to be purely for ornamental purposes (aside from holding her sword's scabbard), and a thinner one which carries a few pouches that hold various items (compass, coins, and a few heinous powders, mostly) - a red sash tied around her hips, and a number of charms and beads strung throughout her hair. She has two necklaces that she never takes off, one bearing a ship's wheel charm, and the other bearing a trio of roughly-cut semi-precious stones in black, blue, and white. She has a schiavona which never leaves her side, even when she's sleeping. What is perhaps her most distinctive possession is an oddly-shaped wood-and-metal club that she wears at her hip; despite its appearance, the item is in fact a weapon, and a projectile one at that, which she fondly refers to as her 'Thumper', given the noise the projectile bludgeoning instrument makes when it impacts its intended target - usually someone's skull. Enchanted by one of the rare wizards (who happens to be a close family friend) of Alban, the instrument is bespelled to return to her hand once thrown. It's her favored method of disciplining crew members, and they've all learned to fear the odd weapon, especially when it begins to emanate smoke as a sign of its owner's annoyance.
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Player's online availability : Variable; usually afternoons and evenings. (PST)
Registered: Apr 1, 2016 10:59:40 GMT -8
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Post by Eirwynn Rodrick on May 8, 2016 18:23:23 GMT -8
While Arthur was manning the wheel and giving orders as to the deployment of their lovely new fire barrels, Eirwynn was doing what she did best - haranguing the crew members who manned the ballistae. Their shots were coordinated so that moments after the barrel on either port or starboard side had been launched, the ballista on that side was fired, sending a bolt flying through the flames to slam into the creature. It probably didn't do a whole lot of good, but every little bit counted when it came to fighting a creature of this side. The first mate herself was perched in the lower rigging toward the fore of the craft, keeping an eye on the situation from below while her unexpectedly loud voice called out in time seconds after Arthur's orders were given.
"Port ballista, aim - FIRE! Get off yer duffs an' reload - starboard ballista, aim - FIRE! Right you lot, keep on yer toes, this one's goin' to take all you've got! If I see anyone slackin' they're gettin' tossed overboard for th' beast! Maybe th' indigestion it'd get from eatin' yer sorry bums would kill it sooner than th' flames! Port, aim - FIRE!" And on and on it would go.
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Warlord Ei Halvard
Established
Roleplay posts: 40
Age: 180
Physical Description: Of the Dwarven race, Ei Halvard is about 4'5" (relatively tall for a dwarven male), has jet black hair, and thick stony muscles.
Clothes and Equipment: Bronze armor, iron boots, lead alloy axe.
Registered: Apr 2, 2016 16:08:04 GMT -8
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Post by Warlord Ei Halvard on May 8, 2016 19:12:41 GMT -8
The crew on board the Shrike were acquitting themselves very well. As the barrels careened towards the Archon, Garnock waved his fan and summoned the whirlwind with perfect accuracy each time. The barrels exploded, and the liquid firestorms struck the Archon's hide again and again. Steam and smoke erupted from the creature's back as the foliage growing on it was incinerated. The Archon screeched in anger and very much wanted to swat the Shrike out of the sky. But the powerful strikes of the Archon and Justicar prevented it from leaving the ground. Contrary to Eirwynn's expectations, the ballistae were surprisingly effective at throwing the creature off balance. A lucky strike here and there also prevented the Archon from striking at the ship with its limbs. *** After several minutes of this, the Archon decided it had had enough, and tried to retreat into the forest. But to the ground crew's surprise, something happened. A large wall of vines erupted from the treeline opposite the Archon and blocked its escape. That's when the Justicar spotted something on its back. It was a pulsating organ, made only visible by the burning away of the creature's living shell. The Justicar squeezed his last pewter sphere with all his might, and nail the creature's brain stem.
The creature's roars came to an abrupt end, and with a mighty thud, it collapsed to the ground.
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Ailionóra uí Muineacháin
Committed
Roleplay posts: 86
Age: Ancient.
Physical Description: As with all of the Fae, Ailionóra is tall and lithe, at a respectable 5'11", and although she is thousands of years old, she appears to be in her mid-twenties. She has long hair that falls to her hips, which is a mix of shades of auburn with golden highlights, and bright green eyes. She has a delicately-formed bone structure resulting in limbs and fingers that are just slightly longer in proportion than a human, and features that are wildly beautiful in an almost harsh and feral kind of way, along with the pointed ears possessed by all her kind. Her skin is lightly tanned from several lifetimes spent out in the Wyld, and heavily adorned with a great number of intricate tattoos in varying shades of green ink that she proudly displays.
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Clothes and Equipment: While safely at home within the Wyld, Ailionóra typically wears very little, allowing her to be closer to the nature within the Wyld. Her usual attire typically consists of a vest in any number of colors that bares her shoulders, back, and midriff, paired with a knee-length loincloth, and accessorized with gauntlets, upper arm bands, and various beaded necklaces and belts. She can occasionally be seen carrying a long spear, most often while out in the Wyld engaged in the Hunt. When outside the Wyld, she dresses a bit more conservatively, but still tends to wear dresses that display her shoulders and the tattoos on the skin there. When attending to important matters of Fae governance, either within the Wyld or when dealing with the Council of Alban, she often carries an staff composed of intricately twined pieces of wood, adorned with ever-blooming flowers and a few magic-focusing crystals of green and gold.
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Player's online availability : Variable; usually afternoons and evenings. (PST)
Registered: Apr 1, 2016 10:51:15 GMT -8
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Post by Ailionóra uí Muineacháin on May 8, 2016 20:45:50 GMT -8
The source of the vine wall became apparent soon after the smoldering corpse of the Archon sank to the ground; a half-dozen Fae were perched in the trees at the far side of the clearing. They looked even more feral than the normal druid denizens of the Wyld, with very little of the elegance that one most often saw in the rulers of the vast forest. They were led by a female with dark hair who was covered in tattoos, and she shifted in her crouched position, leaning outward and tilting her head to peer curiously at Averin.
"Nice to see you hill-grubbing Dwarves can be useful, even if you do need help from the humans to take down a beast." Her voice was harsh and mocking as she called out to them, her words eliciting chuckles from those behind her. The smirk on her face disappeared, however, and she seemed to grow quite serious. "Who are you, human, that you fight alongside the Dwarves? Last I knew, they had severed ties with your people at the loss of the Sword." All of the Fae leaned forward intently at that, waiting for a response from the human male.
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King Averin Arach
Dedicated
Working on the whole king thing
Roleplay posts: 284
Age: 21
Physical Description: Averin is a tall man, standing at six foot two. He has a build equal parts lithe and powerful. Broad shouldered, well muscled, but possessed of an undeniable grace. He reminds many of a tiger. He moves with a slow, languid, precision, that gives him undeniable aura of deadly skill.
Averin is a handsome man. With a square cut jaw, straight nose, and prominent cheek bones. His brown eyes are dark and alluring. Sometimes they sparkle with kindness, other times gleaming with baleful intent. His habitual expression is a half smile.
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Clothes and Equipment: Averin prefers to wear his silver steel half plate. One pauldron stylize to look like a hawks head. Combined with his large red cloak, he has a very distinctive look. His preferred weapon is a bastard sword. His blade is an oddity. The hilt is worn and weathered, and seems to be ancient. The blade though looks freshly forged. The shining metal gleams brightly in light, and it's edge razor sharp. Both his armor and sword posses some degree of magic, though exactly how much is known only to him.
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Registered: Mar 21, 2016 6:59:05 GMT -8
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Post by King Averin Arach on May 8, 2016 21:07:25 GMT -8
Averin was impressed by how quickly the Archon had went down. It was a testament to overwhelming force he suppose. A triple headed assault was enough to take down most beasts. He was proud of his men, they had acquitted themselves well. Keeping their cool and keeping the vines at bay. He had noticed the assistance of the Fae and when they made their presence known he turned to them. They were about as friendly as he had been taught to expect. Still they were not attacking which was good. This was an opportunity to make contact and he should take it. he gives them a courtly bow, before responding.
"Hail and well met. I am Averin Arach and who may I ask are you?"
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Captain Arthur Maddock
Established
Roleplay posts: 36
Age: 28
Physical Description: Arthur is of roughly average height for a human male at 5'10", with a light but solid build of essentially no body fat at about 160 lbs. His figure, nonetheless, is very striking thanks to his hair (so pale blonde as to look white in almost any light) and eyes (ostensibly a light grey, but appearing silver in many settings). A very quick way to get on the Captain's bad side is to call his face androgynous, pretty, or anything of the sort -- the eccentric pirate has heard it often before, and generally responds violently. Considering his profession, Arthur has incredibly few scars... whether due to prowess in battle or cunningly avoiding it being a matter of some debate outside of his crew.
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Clothes and Equipment: Arthur is almost always clad in one of several identical outfits consisting of his black tricorn hat trimmed in a dark red (and adorned with what the Captain often claims is "a genuine pixie skull, mate"), a lace-up white shirt generally worn unlaced at the top to help him stay cool and because he thinks it looks dashing, black lace-up pants worn laced up and belted with a length of silk cloth because it wouldn't do to have one's pants fall down in a boarding action, very fine black leather boots, and generally a black long coat with a very elaborate, high collar to shield him from both sun and inclement weather. Like many sailors he wears some few ornaments, primarily beads, in his hair -- even the few he wears tend to click together when he turns his head rapidly or in a strong wind. His only jewelry consists of an old silver signet ring bearing caravels on waves and, like almost every member of the Silver Shrike's crew, a simple necklace bearing a ship's wheel charm. Arthur keeps several daggers concealed about his person, like any sensible brigand, and carries his schiavona -- a basket-hilted blade much like a slightly shorter, broader rapier, a weapon of war rather than one for dueling and useful for both cut and thrust -- at all times, including to the head or bed. He has been known to carry a hand-crossbow for the initial stages of a boarding action.
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Player's online availability : Variable. PST.
Registered: Apr 1, 2016 14:16:58 GMT -8
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Post by Captain Arthur Maddock on May 8, 2016 21:23:53 GMT -8
The battle over, Arthur signaled a petty officer to come and take the helm. Moments later he was below decks, quizzing one of the junior officers on the crew's performance. Arthur seemed happy, and calm, and so the officer was relaxed himself. A meaningful look had let Eirwynn know to stand down the fire barrel crews but keep the ballistae ready.
The Shrike had all sails furled right now; a single grapple had been hooked to a nearby tree to keep them in place while the ground troops wrapped up and conversed. If Averin signaled, a rope ladder would be lowered for him and his troops. The warlord would be similarly welcomed.
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Eirwynn Rodrick
Established
Roleplay posts: 40
Age: 28
Physical Description: Of average height for a human, Eirwynn is 5'5" and curvaceous, with slightly-tanned skin and a sturdy bone structure. She has dark brown hair that falls to just past her shoulders, and hazel eyes that have often been described as 'mercurial', as their exact coloring shifts between varying shades of brown, gold, and green depending upon her mood. Her face is attractive, if not beautiful in an eye-catching way, and she has often been described as 'cute' - which is a surefire way to end up with a sword pointed at your face. She has a smattering of scars across her body, including one across the right side of her face that bisects her eyebrow and continues down below her eye, but that's likely to be expected, given her chosen career.
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Clothes and Equipment: Her chosen attire generally consists of a pair of tight-fitting brown breeches, paired with a low-cut white shirt with slightly-loose sleeves, and a pair of low-heeled brown leather boots that come to a stop just shy of her knees. This is occasionally accessorized with any of a number of underbust corsets in varying colors, and/or a long brown coat that she often wears open. Typical accessories consist of a two brown leather belts - one wide, which seems to be purely for ornamental purposes (aside from holding her sword's scabbard), and a thinner one which carries a few pouches that hold various items (compass, coins, and a few heinous powders, mostly) - a red sash tied around her hips, and a number of charms and beads strung throughout her hair. She has two necklaces that she never takes off, one bearing a ship's wheel charm, and the other bearing a trio of roughly-cut semi-precious stones in black, blue, and white. She has a schiavona which never leaves her side, even when she's sleeping. What is perhaps her most distinctive possession is an oddly-shaped wood-and-metal club that she wears at her hip; despite its appearance, the item is in fact a weapon, and a projectile one at that, which she fondly refers to as her 'Thumper', given the noise the projectile bludgeoning instrument makes when it impacts its intended target - usually someone's skull. Enchanted by one of the rare wizards (who happens to be a close family friend) of Alban, the instrument is bespelled to return to her hand once thrown. It's her favored method of disciplining crew members, and they've all learned to fear the odd weapon, especially when it begins to emanate smoke as a sign of its owner's annoyance.
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Player's online availability : Variable; usually afternoons and evenings. (PST)
Registered: Apr 1, 2016 10:59:40 GMT -8
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Post by Eirwynn Rodrick on May 8, 2016 21:30:05 GMT -8
That look from Arthur was met by a nod from Eirwynn, who remained perched in the brow.. although she did clamber forward until she was dangling just above the bowsprit, clutching the rigging, to gaze down at the happenings below. Interesting indeed, the Fae had come out to play.. and not the more civilized ones who lived in the city, judging by their temperament. Not the ones she wanted to deal with.
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Warlord Ei Halvard
Established
Roleplay posts: 40
Age: 180
Physical Description: Of the Dwarven race, Ei Halvard is about 4'5" (relatively tall for a dwarven male), has jet black hair, and thick stony muscles.
Clothes and Equipment: Bronze armor, iron boots, lead alloy axe.
Registered: Apr 2, 2016 16:08:04 GMT -8
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Post by Warlord Ei Halvard on May 8, 2016 21:42:38 GMT -8
All the dwarfs were tense except Havard and Justicar Nachton, who were rather relaxed. Nachton was casually walking around the smoldering corpse recovering his pewter spheres. The warlord was cleaning his axe.
"About time you salad heads showed up. Hmph."
Although he had to admit to himself Averin was handling himself rather well.
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Ailionóra uí Muineacháin
Committed
Roleplay posts: 86
Age: Ancient.
Physical Description: As with all of the Fae, Ailionóra is tall and lithe, at a respectable 5'11", and although she is thousands of years old, she appears to be in her mid-twenties. She has long hair that falls to her hips, which is a mix of shades of auburn with golden highlights, and bright green eyes. She has a delicately-formed bone structure resulting in limbs and fingers that are just slightly longer in proportion than a human, and features that are wildly beautiful in an almost harsh and feral kind of way, along with the pointed ears possessed by all her kind. Her skin is lightly tanned from several lifetimes spent out in the Wyld, and heavily adorned with a great number of intricate tattoos in varying shades of green ink that she proudly displays.
--------------------------------------
Clothes and Equipment: While safely at home within the Wyld, Ailionóra typically wears very little, allowing her to be closer to the nature within the Wyld. Her usual attire typically consists of a vest in any number of colors that bares her shoulders, back, and midriff, paired with a knee-length loincloth, and accessorized with gauntlets, upper arm bands, and various beaded necklaces and belts. She can occasionally be seen carrying a long spear, most often while out in the Wyld engaged in the Hunt. When outside the Wyld, she dresses a bit more conservatively, but still tends to wear dresses that display her shoulders and the tattoos on the skin there. When attending to important matters of Fae governance, either within the Wyld or when dealing with the Council of Alban, she often carries an staff composed of intricately twined pieces of wood, adorned with ever-blooming flowers and a few magic-focusing crystals of green and gold.
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Player's online availability : Variable; usually afternoons and evenings. (PST)
Registered: Apr 1, 2016 10:51:15 GMT -8
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Post by Ailionóra uí Muineacháin on May 8, 2016 22:00:12 GMT -8
The moniker of 'salad head' made the Fae laugh, even their leader, though her expression was a toothy, nearly fanged grin that verged on a snarl, which was aimed at the Dwarves. Then her attention was immediately on the human. Averin Arach? That response sent a ripple of conversation through the Fae, whispering amongst themselves. The leader silenced them with a sharp hiss, then stood and leaned forward. She was eyeing the human male with great interest, her golden gaze sharp and assessing. "I am Fionnghuala Mhic Gabhann, and I lead this band of Fae. You say you are an Arach.. do you come to make amends for the failures of your line?" One of the Fae in the band called out, 'Have you come to restore An Dlí?' and Fionnghuala snarled at him.. but she also looked back to Averin expectantly.
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King Averin Arach
Dedicated
Working on the whole king thing
Roleplay posts: 284
Age: 21
Physical Description: Averin is a tall man, standing at six foot two. He has a build equal parts lithe and powerful. Broad shouldered, well muscled, but possessed of an undeniable grace. He reminds many of a tiger. He moves with a slow, languid, precision, that gives him undeniable aura of deadly skill.
Averin is a handsome man. With a square cut jaw, straight nose, and prominent cheek bones. His brown eyes are dark and alluring. Sometimes they sparkle with kindness, other times gleaming with baleful intent. His habitual expression is a half smile.
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Clothes and Equipment: Averin prefers to wear his silver steel half plate. One pauldron stylize to look like a hawks head. Combined with his large red cloak, he has a very distinctive look. His preferred weapon is a bastard sword. His blade is an oddity. The hilt is worn and weathered, and seems to be ancient. The blade though looks freshly forged. The shining metal gleams brightly in light, and it's edge razor sharp. Both his armor and sword posses some degree of magic, though exactly how much is known only to him.
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Registered: Mar 21, 2016 6:59:05 GMT -8
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Post by King Averin Arach on May 9, 2016 12:03:30 GMT -8
Averin weathered the attention of the Fae without flinching. He met the eyes of the woman who had likely been alive longer than everyone present. There was only a slight glint of fear in his gaze, but it wasn't cowardice. It was the fear that any sensible man carried. Fear that was dominated and managed by a steely and unrelenting resolve. Averin carefully weighs his response, admitting the failure was that of his line could lead to problems. The fae were wily and prone to holding words against mortals. When finally he speaks his voice is calm and controlled.
"I am here to mend what was torn asunder by the house Banach. I am here to be the man my father wasn't. I am here to restore mighty An Dlí and end this civil war. That is why I have come to these lands."
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Warlord Ei Halvard
Established
Roleplay posts: 40
Age: 180
Physical Description: Of the Dwarven race, Ei Halvard is about 4'5" (relatively tall for a dwarven male), has jet black hair, and thick stony muscles.
Clothes and Equipment: Bronze armor, iron boots, lead alloy axe.
Registered: Apr 2, 2016 16:08:04 GMT -8
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Post by Warlord Ei Halvard on May 9, 2016 12:29:22 GMT -8
The warlord continued to fawn over his ax, making sure it was clean. "He and his men acquitted themselves rather well in this fight. Isn't that right? Hmm?!" The other dwarfs nodded politely, a few of them genuinely impressed. Finally he took his eyes off the edge of the weapon and actually made eye contact with Fionnghuala. "It's been a very long time since three of the four great races of our land have come together in one place against a common enemy. You have to admit, the sentiment touches at the heartstrings doesn't it? If the wildlings were here I'd declare free shiny mirrors for everyone!" The dwarfs laughed.
(This was an inside joke. Back when the Dwarfs and Fae actually got along, the Fae revealed their weakness for shiny objects, which the Dwarfs enabled by giving Fae shiny mirrors as presents.)
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