Madadh Allaidh
Established
Roleplay posts: 28 
Age: 36
Physical Description: Madadh's form is slightly fluid, as normal for the wildlings, but it is always somewhere between human and wolf. His most common shape is essentially humanoid, walking on two (more wolf than human) legs and with opposable thumbs, but with the head, fur, claws, and tail of a wolf or werewolf... and about six feet eight inches tall (tall even for a wildling), and thickly muscled while retaining some of the lithe quality of the wolf. His fur is a dark grey, in his humanoid form appearing almost black, and his eyes a pale grey -- though at his most wolf, they become a more typical golden hue. Humans generally find his expressions very difficult to read unless they've spend a lot of time with either the wildlings or wild wolves.
Clothes and Equipment: In a concession to human sensibilities, Madadh is clothed more often than not in his semi-human forms in almost gentlemanly attire of a high-quality white linen shirt, custom-tailored leather pants (they would have to be custom to fit a wolf's reversed knees), and a very long leather coat. The coat is adorned with small (relative to his massive frame) pauldrons looted from a dwarven warrior, and the various buckles, buttons, and adornments of his attire are similarly forged from looted dwarven metal. Shoes or boots are scorned, as his massive paws are higher-performing on any terrain. At his side he wears a sword like a cutlass, but made to the scale of a massive wildling -- a weapon for the battlefield, certainly, as in any skirmish his sharp claws and the scale gauntlets he wears would be more than effective.
Player's online availability : Variable. PST.
Registered: Apr 1, 2016 14:13:05 GMT -8
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Post by Madadh Allaidh on Apr 5, 2016 13:49:57 GMT -8
To the far western portion of the Moors, south of the peninsula which harbors the human city, is a vast, sparsely-vegetated plain, just past the caves of the Warrens. While one would think nothing unusual of such a place, upon seeing it, they would understand why the Tribe holds it in such high regard; odd stone spires just upward into the air, some a mere dozen feet tall, some seventy feet tall. The Spires, as the Tribe calls it, is a place rich in old magic and the spirits of the dead, where young members of the Tribe go to embark upon vision quests, and the elder Bears go when seeking answers pertinent to the survival of the Tribe. |
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Boireann Allaidh
Established
Roleplay posts: 34 
Age: 34
Physical Description: Of an average height for her species, Boireann stands at a full 6'1" in her mostly-humanoid form. Her fur is a rich, soft black interspersed with bits of sable and silver, and her eyes are a dark, gleaming shade of gold flecked and streaked with jade green. While in this shape, she has hands just like a human, albeit tipped with claws and bearing paw-pads, and she has a feminine shape, complete with full breasts, small waist, and flaring hips. Whether in her more humanoid form of her more bestial one, she has the head, hind legs, and full, fluffy tail of a wolf. In the thick mane of the fur/hair on her head are woven beads of wood and bone and a few simple metal charms. While in her more bestial form, she is a large and hulking wolf that only bears a vague resemblance to a human, more muscular and slightly hunched-over compared to her more humanoid shape, with true front paws rather than hands.
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Clothes and Equipment: Clothing within the Tribes is a rarity, but on the times when Outsiders venture into the Moors - or the even less frequent times when Boireann leaves the Wolf Tribe to venture outside the Moors - she wears simple leathers, consisting of a banded top that covers her breasts, and a dangling loincloth. Whether inside the tribe or out, she can always be seen wearing a few different items of jewelry: An bracelet around her upper left arm, three small hoop earrings in each canine ear, a matrimonial band around the fourth digit of her right hand, and an encircling chain belt around her hips. She carries no weaponry or equipment, her claws and teeth being enough.
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Player's online availability : Variable; usually afternoons and evenings. (PST)
Registered: Apr 1, 2016 10:35:52 GMT -8
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Post by Boireann Allaidh on May 15, 2016 21:30:37 GMT -8
It had taken them roughly a day and a half to get from Tursachan to the edge of the Spires. The giant deer slowed his pace as the edge of that territory became visible, then finally came to a stop just outside the rocky stone passage which led to the Spires, lowering his front end in a bow so that King Averin Arach could slide off his powerful back and onto the ground. Once he was off, the male straightened and assumed his near-humanoid form once more, leveling placid brown eyes on the human male.
"I can go no further, young Arach. You will receive no help within the Spires, nor will there be anyone watching over you. Once you have exited, I will carry you back to the Stones. Be safe." Inclining his head in a respectful nod to Averin, he then turned and walked away on his sturdy hooves. He would find a place to drink, graze, and rest, and wait for the human to return.. or not.
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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 15, 2016 21:38:30 GMT -8
"Thank you for your assistance."
Averin gives the deer tribe member a respectful nod of his head. The instructions are received and another nod give to show they were understood. The man who would be king then turned and stared at the Spire's. So this was it, the place he would commune with the land. He wondered what he would see. Deep down he is a tad skeptical about the whole thing, but he knows that if he sees nothing this whole thing would end in failure. Besides the concoction Madadh had given him was probably magic. Averin wanders into the Spires and when he thinks he has gone far enough he sits down. Pulling out the flask he pinches his noise and drains the whole thing in a single swallow. Now he supposed he would just sit and wait and hope he didn't die of exposure before whatever was supposed to happen happened.
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Post by Spiritual Forces on May 15, 2016 21:48:22 GMT -8
Very little time would pass before Averin would begin to feel.. strange. No more than ten minutes, closer to five. The landscape around him would begin to shimmer and grow slightly fuzzy, as though it were seen through a rising heat curtain. Perhaps the most disturbing part would be the faces. Little shadowy facades attached to nothing, hovering from place to place, darting behind the protruding rocks that defined the Spires. Then, in a circle around him, five mist-like figures would appear, each about knee-high, genderless but vaguely humanoid in shape, in five different colors: Blue, red, yellow, green, and writhing white-with-black. They stood there, seemingly staring up at him. Then there was a sound like disembodied, multi-tonal laughter, and the spirits would begin to move away, their amorphous hands gesturing for him to follow. They were apparently leading him somewhere, but the question was where, and for what purpose?
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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 15, 2016 22:00:51 GMT -8
Well that was good something was happening. Pity it was rather disturbing. Avering stares at the odd faces floating around and his hand goes to his sword. He grips the hilt and wishes he had some silver, giving the sword a holy aura sounded good right about now. Just when he was wondering what would happen next five... Color coded somethings appeared before him. They started giggling and laugh and beckoning to him. Was he supposed to follow? He supposed he didn't have a choice. He gets slowly to his feet and prepares to be lead, wherever the strange spirits wanted.
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Post by Spiritual Forces on May 15, 2016 22:15:15 GMT -8
The spirits frolicked along, continuing to laugh in that eerie, disembodied way. It was strange, but somehow soothing. As they moved around the protruding stones, weaving through them as though in play, the unsettling shadowy faces began to disappear, seemingly dispelled by these entities. Finally, all five of them disappeared behind a particularly large rock, and for several long moments, Averin was left alone. Then he would see a tendril of pale blue-green mist begin to spiral around the base of that large, fang-like protruding rock and move rapidly up toward the pointy tip, gradually condensing into something more solid.. and growing much larger as it moved upward. Finally it solidified into a large dragon, all crystalline hide and feathered wings, with ancient, wise eyes peering down at him as it clutched onto the rock, that mist continuing to hover mystically around its gleaming body.  Though the dragon's maw didn't move, its voice echoed around the area, deep and resonating with power, yet gentle and comforting. Its body twisted around and stretched down as its claws dug into the rock, bringing its large horned head in closer proximity with the future king. "I am Pa'ahl, and I am your spirit guide, the physical manifestation of your heart, your mind, and your soul." Pa'ahl tilted his head, gazing at the human with something that seemed very akin to parental approval. "Your determination is strong, but I sense doubt within you. Tell me, Heir of Arach, Wielder of An Dli, what is it that you doubt?" |
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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 16, 2016 9:35:07 GMT -8
Averin followed the spirits in a sort of haze. In the back of his mind something was shouting out that this was wrong. Part of him knew he had ingested something and that was what was causing this. The majority of him though thought this was real an was entranced. When the spirits stopped and disappeared he looked around wondering what would happen next. The answer was apparently a dragon would appear. The young knight flinched, but drew his sword and stood at the ready. The great beast got uncomfortably close and started speaking to him. He bristled a bit at the creatures words. Who did this dragon think he was? Claiming he was a manifestation of his soul, throwing tittles at him.
"I had my doubts the Wildlings spirit drink would accomplish anything, but here we are. Tell me what I need to do spirit and I will do it. I will fulfill my duty."
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Post by Spiritual Forces on May 16, 2016 10:48:49 GMT -8
Pa'ahl seemed amused by Averin's response, his deep voice rumbling in a chuckle. "Ahh, your duty. Yes, that does seem to be the root of the problem, does it not? You have always followed your sense of duty, done what you believed you were meant to do, with no consideration as to whether or not it was what you wanted to do. Tell me, Averin, do you want to be king? Do you want to restore your homeland to peace and prosperity?" Pa'ahl paused for a brief moment, then continued; when he did so, his voice was quiet and somewhat sad.. or perhaps it was disappointed?
"Or do you wish to leave it to destroy itself from the inside out, and seek your path elsewhere? If you could do anything in this world, what would it be? Would it be to continue leading your mercenaries, fighting for the coin of others? There is quite an appeal, after all. A family of your own choosing, a band of brothers who remain by your side out of loyalty and camaraderie, not because of a title, authority, or power."
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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 16, 2016 12:12:51 GMT -8
Averin rocked back on his heels. Whatever he had been expecting it wasn't that. It wasn't words that cut him to the quick. He had thought that this was all some silly game, but this Pa'ahl... No it was all nonsense. His path was firm and he would follow his duty. Who was this dragon to question that?
"What I want is irrelevant. I am a knight I am bound to do my duty. It is all that matters, it is all the has ever mattered."
Even as he snaps at the dragon he can tell how hollow those words sound. The damn beast had him question himself, questioning what he was doing. Sure he didn't think it was fair that he had to shoulder a burden his father, a man he had never even met, was too weak to. Sure he had never been allowed to live a normal life. Sure it all seemed unfair that apparently other people had choices, but he had a destiny. It didn't matter though because what was important was duty. That was what he believed. Right?
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Post by Spiritual Forces on May 16, 2016 12:27:29 GMT -8
"Hmmmm." It was a deep sound of consideration, and then Pa'ahl slithered down off the rock, coiling his long body - tail, wings, and all - around the young knight. His head lowered in until his gaze was once again even with Averin's face, and he peered at the boy with ancient eyes full of fathomless wisdom. "That is where you are wrong, young prince. Your duty is not the only thing that matters. Oh, it is true, many men and women can perform their duty without any consideration for their own wants and needs.. but you are not one of these people. You have a heart that yearns not for glory or valor, but for acceptance and approval. You believe that if you fulfill this quest and take your crown, you will achieve these things."
The dragon's tail suddenly flicked, the long, thin tip stirring the mist that wafted around its body and causing images to stir through it. There was Averin at his coronation, and then again looking out across his kingdom.. but it soon became Averin embroiled in heated arguments with the Council of Alban, then Averin raising his sword against those he would call allies, and finally the city of Avelius in flames as the Fae and Wildlings fought in streets drenched with the blood of humans. The images faded, and Pa'ahl spoke again, his voice soft and solemn.
"All these things you would achieve, but they would not last. If you do this thing out of duty alone, you will drive yourself, and your people to ruin. And I do not speak of only the humans - all the races of Alban are your people. You and that sword you hold are the culmination of the hopes and dreams of all the denizens of this land, whether they be human, Dwarven, Wildling, or Fae. To bring peace to this land and those who dwell within it, you must accept that this is more than your duty, your destiny: To reforge An Dli, to take your crown and your rightful place upon that throne, to bring the races of Alban together once more, you must want it. You must admit to all that it is your will, your desire, your one true wish, to do this thing. But most of all.. you must admit it to yourself." His wings curled around Averin in a protective manner as he continued, his voice nearing a whisper.
"You have great strength within you, Averin Arach. Do not let your fears and doubts, your uncertainties and worries, stop you from becoming who you have the potential to be. Not just a great king, but something even more important: A great man."
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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 16, 2016 15:29:33 GMT -8
Averin fought not to flinch and drive his sword at the large dragon as it coiled around him. This was surreal and he didn't need it. He didn't need life advice from a figment of his imagination. Growling he opens his mouth to tell the dragon to leave him be, when the vision hit him. A king bathed in blood. That was what this creature claimed his future would be. Because what? Because he needed to admit that the reason he was doing this wasn't duty or honor, but because he wanted acceptance? Was that even what he wanted? He didn't blasted know what he wanted.
"I don't know beast. No one has ever asked me what I want. They tell me it is my destiny to rule a land I have barely even seen. To save people I barely know. To fight creatures that barely fit into this realm. It is all I have been told I most do since I was born. Maybe you are right. Maybe I want none of this. Maybe all I want is to make my own damn choices for a change, to have true friends. People who follow me not because their parents raised them as I was raised, or because of what they want me to do. You are telling me this is why I am doing this? Because deep down that is what I hope I will get? So that is what I want?"
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Post by Spiritual Forces on May 16, 2016 16:02:52 GMT -8
Pa'ahl stared at Averin unblinkingly, listening to the man's tirade. After he finished speaking, there were several very long moments of silence. Then the dragon spoke again, drawing back from Averin and sitting upon his haunches. "You can choose your destiny, but not your fate. You say you have no choices, and yet you clearly do." He paused and his form seemed to begin drawing away, or perhaps it was dissipating? That was perhaps the case, the draconic shape returning to formless mist, which then began to slowly vanish.
"You can choose not to do this thing at all, to return to the land where you were raised and leave this place to its fate. Just because everyone has told you that it is your destiny to restore An Dli and claim the throne does not mean it is true. What you do with your life is your decision, Averin. If you do not want it, do not do it. It is as simple as that. You must follow your heart, for it will never lead you astray."
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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 16, 2016 20:49:14 GMT -8
Follow his heart? Apparently his inner dragon took queue from the old fair tales. Still the dragon was right, more or less. He could just run abandon everyone. It'd be tricky getting off of Alban, Arthur and Eirwynn probably would want to help him if he asked to leave. The dwarves would be livid, as would the fae, as would the wildlings. They were the ones who knew he was back and what would they do if he disappeared? Probably take it out on the other humans. What did he care though? He had spent his whole life work to serve them, but he had never met them. Was he really going to do this? Was he going to throw his life away for a country and people he didn't know. Was he really going to fight for a crown he didn't even know if he really wanted. Pulling a coin from his belt he looks it over.
"Tails I turn tail, Crown I fight for the crown."
He tosses the coin in the air and watches it spin, glinting in the air. It hits the ground, but by then he had already turned his back. In that brief moment he had remembered something important. He was Averin Drake. It may not be his real name, but it was the one he bore. Averin Drake had never failed a job and never went back on his word. He may have been raised to claim the Arach legacy, but Drake was who he was. That meant finishing what he started. Maybe it was what he wanted, maybe it wasn't. Maybe what the dragon foretold would come to pass. He didn't know, he didn't care. He would be himself and that was all that mattered. He left the spires and searched for the deer tribe member who brought him here.
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Boireann Allaidh
Established
Roleplay posts: 34
Age: 34
Physical Description: Of an average height for her species, Boireann stands at a full 6'1" in her mostly-humanoid form. Her fur is a rich, soft black interspersed with bits of sable and silver, and her eyes are a dark, gleaming shade of gold flecked and streaked with jade green. While in this shape, she has hands just like a human, albeit tipped with claws and bearing paw-pads, and she has a feminine shape, complete with full breasts, small waist, and flaring hips. Whether in her more humanoid form of her more bestial one, she has the head, hind legs, and full, fluffy tail of a wolf. In the thick mane of the fur/hair on her head are woven beads of wood and bone and a few simple metal charms. While in her more bestial form, she is a large and hulking wolf that only bears a vague resemblance to a human, more muscular and slightly hunched-over compared to her more humanoid shape, with true front paws rather than hands.
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Clothes and Equipment: Clothing within the Tribes is a rarity, but on the times when Outsiders venture into the Moors - or the even less frequent times when Boireann leaves the Wolf Tribe to venture outside the Moors - she wears simple leathers, consisting of a banded top that covers her breasts, and a dangling loincloth. Whether inside the tribe or out, she can always be seen wearing a few different items of jewelry: An bracelet around her upper left arm, three small hoop earrings in each canine ear, a matrimonial band around the fourth digit of her right hand, and an encircling chain belt around her hips. She carries no weaponry or equipment, her claws and teeth being enough.
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Player's online availability : Variable; usually afternoons and evenings. (PST)
Registered: Apr 1, 2016 10:35:52 GMT -8
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Post by Boireann Allaidh on May 16, 2016 21:21:02 GMT -8
The Deer Tribesman was waiting, and he stood quickly when he saw Averin, a look of relief evident even on his very animal features. Not everyone returned from the Spires, and that he had made it clear that he was blessed by the spirits, as well as having the fortitude to continue. He took his four-legged form and bowed to Averin, allowing the human to climb onto his back. Once the would-be king was settled, he straightened and began bounding back toward Tursachan, even faster than he had brought Averin to the Spires. At this rate, they'd be arriving with the morning sun.. a fitting symbolism for the dawning of a new era.
<Exit to Tursachan>
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Madadh Allaidh
Established
Roleplay posts: 28
Age: 36
Physical Description: Madadh's form is slightly fluid, as normal for the wildlings, but it is always somewhere between human and wolf. His most common shape is essentially humanoid, walking on two (more wolf than human) legs and with opposable thumbs, but with the head, fur, claws, and tail of a wolf or werewolf... and about six feet eight inches tall (tall even for a wildling), and thickly muscled while retaining some of the lithe quality of the wolf. His fur is a dark grey, in his humanoid form appearing almost black, and his eyes a pale grey -- though at his most wolf, they become a more typical golden hue. Humans generally find his expressions very difficult to read unless they've spend a lot of time with either the wildlings or wild wolves.
Clothes and Equipment: In a concession to human sensibilities, Madadh is clothed more often than not in his semi-human forms in almost gentlemanly attire of a high-quality white linen shirt, custom-tailored leather pants (they would have to be custom to fit a wolf's reversed knees), and a very long leather coat. The coat is adorned with small (relative to his massive frame) pauldrons looted from a dwarven warrior, and the various buckles, buttons, and adornments of his attire are similarly forged from looted dwarven metal. Shoes or boots are scorned, as his massive paws are higher-performing on any terrain. At his side he wears a sword like a cutlass, but made to the scale of a massive wildling -- a weapon for the battlefield, certainly, as in any skirmish his sharp claws and the scale gauntlets he wears would be more than effective.
Player's online availability : Variable. PST.
Registered: Apr 1, 2016 14:13:05 GMT -8
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Post by Madadh Allaidh on Oct 26, 2016 15:42:14 GMT -8
The great wolf had come to the Spires again, as he did from time to time, seeking guidance... but he had not partaken of the concoctions that caused the typical visions. No, this was more of a retreat for the wolf, time in a sacred place to contemplate and gather his thoughts. Madadh had sought out a particular spire on his arrival, and sat beneath it. So far he had been seated there since dawn, and dusk was rapidly approaching; he showed no signs of movement.
His escort stayed back just barely in sight, keeping a watchful eye but mindful of their leader's desire for privacy.
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Post by Spiritual Forces on Oct 26, 2016 16:05:24 GMT -8
After a time, spirits began to gather, hovering and bobbing merrily around Madadh. They wouldn't disturb him, but it was clear that they remembered him, and enjoyed his presence within the Spires.
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