Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Oct 31, 2024 15:28:22 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on May 29, 2016 21:10:11 GMT -8
Located South West of the Norkari Mountains, the City of Aramor is nestled with the Norkari fold. A prestigious trade town, it was once a fishing village, but its protected harbor quickly made it a place where people felt at ease and safe from any invading river pirates or vikings. Once a warm and thriving place, the Frost Queen from the White Mountain has extended an eternal winter upon the city, and has decided to make Aramoor her foundation for which her plans for wintry dominion will most likely unfold. It's people have been given a simple choice; join her, or die. The children have been rounded up and away from their parents and currently undergo training and deep brain-washing to become her human force. The fae creatures that now walk the city and its surrounding area are not in such need of training.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Oct 31, 2024 15:28:22 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on May 29, 2016 21:56:22 GMT -8
The first thing the City Watch saw from their walls and towers was the frost creeping over the forest and across the meadow that separated Aramoor from the dark forests that covered the Norkari Mountains. They murmured to themselves, aware that it had to be some dark and twisted magic that came from the White Mountain -- a mountain that had once been obscured in constant blizzards, too far to feel the cold, but was now crystal clear and glittering beneath the Spring Sun.
The frost crept over the walls, and there was nothing the soldiers could do to stop it. What could they do, truly? The frost crept over everything, every stone, every wheel. It froze the water of the river, thickening and thickening until it trapped boats in the harbor and caused panic to rise. The temperatures dropped. Children cried. Elders shook. The quick cold naturally caught immune systems by surprise, and people scrambled for their homes; for warm hearths and blankets and clothing to keep themselves warm.
Ice followed the frost, hardening, making it hard for fires to stay alight. A party went towards the woods to go to the Witch Upon the Mountain that surely must have done this, but great fae beasts emerged from the forest line, towering mastodons of white fur and tusks and spikes that sprouted from their body -- razorsharp and made of ice.
The men fell back under their strength, their great trunks swinging men from left to right. They were able to minorly wound the beasts, but they couldn't stop them as they came towards the walls and the towers. The javelins they threw caused the beasts to scream in agony, iron making them steam, but it wasn't enough.
And as they crashed into the walls, the ice army came upon the city like a scourge. This army made of ice and snow were not effective as warriors, but the Frost Queen didn't need effective warriors. She needed numbers, and the numbers overwhelmed.
With the first wave of this ice warriors, a second wave then did come, of winter fae creatures that were far more skilled than the others. Terror reigned in Aramoor as snow and ice and frost covered every building and every person that stayed too still, that tried to hide in closets or cupboards.
Some remained living. Many, in fact, although they were mostly women and children and the elderly and they were herded into the main square while the last of the warrior-like men of Aramoor were hunted down in the city streets to be slain if they did not concede. A great gale swept over the city, making all turn their eyes and faces away who were of warm mortal blood, and there...
... in the center of the square...
Stood the beautiful, enchanting Frost Queen herself. Her starlight hair swayed down her back, a beautiful, sparkling crown within the tresses. Her gown was white and silver, made of ice and frost and snow and it was as enchanting as the rest of her. Indeed, it was hard to look away, and her red, red lips smiled at them.
"Do not be afraid," she said to them as she stepped forward, her long, long train trailing behind her and chiming quietly, like icicles caught on a wintry breeze. "I am here to protect you," the Frost Queen told the mortals that shivered beneath her swirling blue gaze. "I am here to nurture you, and mother you, and be your deserved and beloved Queen."
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Rickard, the Lone Warrior
Committed
Roleplay posts: 78
Age: 20
Physical Description: The lone warrior stands about 5'10'' in height. He has short black hair, usually at least somewhat well kept. Along with this he has icy blue eyes, which seem to always be keen on every detail around him. His eyes also are very expressive at times.
His build is that of a swordsman, lean for speed while consisting of mostly muscle to give a deceptive strength the to man.
Clothes and Equipment: Generally wears fur-lined plate armor and carries a bow and quiver of arrows. He carries a long-sword, sheathed at his hip. Though when he is not he wears clothing of leather lined with fur to fight off the cold air of the Winterlands. He often will also be wearing a dark grey cloak adorned with the black fur of a wolf about the shoulders.
Registered: May 29, 2016 20:00:21 GMT -8
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Post by Rickard, the Lone Warrior on May 30, 2016 10:36:04 GMT -8
The fight had begun on the walls, the first signs of the horrors that unfolded coming with a creeping frost. The guards on the walls were quickly overrun and forced back in the confusion into the streets of the city where they fractured as the city was overrun by monsters, and they were for the most part slaughtered once they were separated and unorganized.
Only a few guards still lived in the chaos, and fewer still fought off the creatures in the face of hopeless defeat at the hands of the icy abominations and fae creatures that attacked. It was in this situation that a lone warrior would find himself in. He was a city guard, gaining minor local fame due to his fighting skills. None of that matter now however, as he stood at the end of a secluded alleyway, already multiple fae creatures dead at his feet. He had lost his helm at some point, leaving his face exposed. He appeared to be in his late twenties, with brown hair cut short and icy blue eyes. There was a cut over his left eyebrow from previous fighting that bled slowly, obscuring his vision. Besides that wound were only bruised where his armor absorbed previous blows, as well as exhaustion. Still however he held his bloodied sword before him, ready to slay more of the damned creatures as they came.
The only thing that held his resolve was the chance of perhaps fighting off the creatures to save his family. Through the door behind him was his family's home, inside his only child, a daughter of seven years, and his wife. He had told them to bar the door shut, and to light a fire in the hearth to stay warm, hopefully that would be enough to ward off the growing frost, which even began to effect him despite the fur-lined armor of the city guard he wore and his continued exertion in fighting off the frost creatures.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Oct 31, 2024 15:28:22 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on May 30, 2016 13:59:05 GMT -8
One by one, they fell to their knees -- willingly, or because they had been impaled with ice. The Frost Queen smiled as she walked through the courtyard at her domain, at the people that were now her own. But she felt it. She felt a small glimmer of resistance, and in a blur of snow, she swept herself up into the air, only to then...
... land in the alley way where the Lone Warrior still stood. She looked around at the carnage, and she gasped. "My children," she cried at the sight of the dead fae, their wounds still burning from the iron that he'd sliced through them, given his blade.
She could sense warm bodies beyond the door where the Lone Warrior stood guarding, and more of her fae creatures -- alive -- were at her back.
"You have courage," the Frost Queen said to the man... but ice grew, thick and razor sharp all around her as he opened her palms. "But not enough." The javelins went crashing through the air, and while the Lone Warrior was, indeed, a mighty warrior, she was an unstoppable sorceress of terrifying power.
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Rickard, the Lone Warrior
Committed
Roleplay posts: 78
Age: 20
Physical Description: The lone warrior stands about 5'10'' in height. He has short black hair, usually at least somewhat well kept. Along with this he has icy blue eyes, which seem to always be keen on every detail around him. His eyes also are very expressive at times.
His build is that of a swordsman, lean for speed while consisting of mostly muscle to give a deceptive strength the to man.
Clothes and Equipment: Generally wears fur-lined plate armor and carries a bow and quiver of arrows. He carries a long-sword, sheathed at his hip. Though when he is not he wears clothing of leather lined with fur to fight off the cold air of the Winterlands. He often will also be wearing a dark grey cloak adorned with the black fur of a wolf about the shoulders.
Registered: May 29, 2016 20:00:21 GMT -8
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Post by Rickard, the Lone Warrior on May 30, 2016 14:29:35 GMT -8
The Lone Warrior stood at the end of the alley, panting as sweat and blood dripping down his face. Just when he thought that perhaps he had finally fought them all off, a swirling gale of snow would appear in the alleyway, and the icy sorceress would appear in the alley.
The warrior would grit his teeth, raising his sword a bit in preparation to fight her. Mentally his resolve to keep fighting until his dying breath was unquestionable, even in the face of the growing icicles the witch produced in the air. There was no cover to duck behind in the alleyway, and it was not possible to dodge the icicles given how many of them there were. As they flew through the air towards him he would raise one of his arms to shield his unarmored face, but that was all he could do. The warrior trusted in his armor to protect him.
The armor would fail him, although many of the icicles did indeed shatter on the steel two had managed to penetrate the armor, one embedding itself in his left leg, and the other right through his breastplate. The icy projectiles would send chills and pain throughout his body as they pierced his flesh, a loud gasp of shock escaping him moments after they struck him.
Blood would come next, seeping out of his rent breastplate and his leg. Just like all the others, he would fall to his knees as blood began to seep out of his mouth as well, although he fought viciously with his own body to stay standing to defend his family, he eventually fell to his knees like all the others. His icy blue eyes would look up at the Ice Queen then, despair in his eyes,
"Don't take them, leave them be," he said, his voice quiet and pleading.
After a few moments of kneeling, the grip on his sword loosened, clattering to the ground as he fell forward in a heap.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Oct 31, 2024 15:28:22 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on May 30, 2016 16:30:01 GMT -8
She felt a thrill at the way the man so valiantly fended off most of the icicles with armor or draining prowess, but she felt even more of a thrill when two pierced into his body, making him sink to his knees.
Neia walked towards him, her hips swaying as she did so, her long starlight hair beautiful down her back. The vision of her was so at odds with the darkness that was in her soul, with the darkness that seemed to pulse from the ring she wore upon her finger.
"You killed my children," the Frost Queen said, "so I'll kill yours." She glanced over her shoulder to the fae creatures behind her. "Throw him in the river. I'd prefer not to have him as one of my decorations."
She stepped over his prone body, her long gown chiming with the ice crystals that moved as she did, and the doors to his home blasted open with a toss of her hand, an icy gale shattering the wood and iron that was supposed to keep his family safe. As the fae creatures clapped onto his arms and dragged him away, the last thing the Lone Warrior would hear were screams.
The screams of his wife and his daughter.
And then there was only the frigid ice of the river, carrying his presumed corpse far, far away from Aramoor and the Wintry Fortress it had now become.
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Fenrir Skargard
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 196
Age: 29
Physical Description: Fenrir is a large Arctic Werewolf, with fur as white as the snow that plagues his habitat. His paws and muzzle are stained a slight pinkish color from the bloody nature of his food, primarily Caribou and Mountain Seal. His yellow eyes are predatory, and would be terrifying to see in the darkness of a cave or blizzard. He stands roughly 7ft tall, and weighs nearly 300lbs. His fur, claws, and teeth are immaculately well-maintained, as the Wolf believes that keeping oneself clean is foremost in respecting another, for if you do not respect yourself, you cannot respect others.
Clothes and Equipment: He wields the mighty sword White Fang, a Frost-Enchanted Sword he took from the lifeless corpse of a White Witch whom had promised him the sword, then tried to kill him with. The sword, imbued with the blood of the witch, gives him abilities similar to hers, mainly focusing on cold and frost related abilities. His legs are covered by plate armor, and his left arm is covered in a gauntlet with fingers ending in wicked looking claws. The gauntlet is inscribed with more Frost Runes, giving it similar, albeit less powerful, abilities to White Fang.
Registered: May 30, 2016 8:38:38 GMT -8
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Post by Fenrir Skargard on Jun 1, 2016 20:25:42 GMT -8
Fenrir and his wolves marched their way into the cold, quiet city of Aramoor. Their trip had been uneventful down the mountainside, their powerful legs and snow experience making short work of the long journey.
Fenrir came in at the head of his tribe, the proud Alpha gazing upon the citizens, not cruelly, he could see what had hapoened here, these people had had enough, push them too hard and they would snap, and he had no desire to fight an insurrection in unfamiliar territory.
The first thing he did on his arrival was turn to one of the guards.
"I want every able-bodied citizen left in this city in the city center asap."
His voice was calm, yet still implied an extreme amount of violence should his orders not be followed. His wolves grinned to each other, they were used to his leadership style, and it was about time someone taught the no-furs how to fight for real.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Oct 31, 2024 15:28:22 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Jun 3, 2016 9:47:37 GMT -8
The city guard -- a lesser fae creature -- nodded his head and issued the command. The Fae creatures took off, slipping through the city streets, banging on doors, ushering the terrified people back into the square again where they shivered and shook. They needed warmth, and no one had advised the Frost Queen that mortals would need such a thing.
Standing in the square, with wolves and fae alike surrounding them, some prayed and some shivered. Surely this was the end? Surely they would die now. Ships were trapped in the bay, storefronts abandoned with the frost that had come. They had had winters, yes, but none like the one that currently blanketed the once thriving city of Aramoor.
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Fenrir Skargard
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 196
Age: 29
Physical Description: Fenrir is a large Arctic Werewolf, with fur as white as the snow that plagues his habitat. His paws and muzzle are stained a slight pinkish color from the bloody nature of his food, primarily Caribou and Mountain Seal. His yellow eyes are predatory, and would be terrifying to see in the darkness of a cave or blizzard. He stands roughly 7ft tall, and weighs nearly 300lbs. His fur, claws, and teeth are immaculately well-maintained, as the Wolf believes that keeping oneself clean is foremost in respecting another, for if you do not respect yourself, you cannot respect others.
Clothes and Equipment: He wields the mighty sword White Fang, a Frost-Enchanted Sword he took from the lifeless corpse of a White Witch whom had promised him the sword, then tried to kill him with. The sword, imbued with the blood of the witch, gives him abilities similar to hers, mainly focusing on cold and frost related abilities. His legs are covered by plate armor, and his left arm is covered in a gauntlet with fingers ending in wicked looking claws. The gauntlet is inscribed with more Frost Runes, giving it similar, albeit less powerful, abilities to White Fang.
Registered: May 30, 2016 8:38:38 GMT -8
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Post by Fenrir Skargard on Jun 3, 2016 14:36:19 GMT -8
The look on Fenrir's face when the people were marched out could have thawed the city if he had any control over the element of fire. Several of his warriors flinched as he whirled around on the obviously inept City Guard.
"YOU INEPT INCOMPETENT FOOLS. I CANNOT MAKE WARRIORS OUT OF FROSTBITTEN CORPSES. WHICH IS ALL YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE IF YOU IDIOTS DO NOT GET SOME FIRES LIT HERE AND SOME WARM CLOTHING FOR THESE PEOPLE."
The runes on his arm and his sword glowed dangerously bright as he yelled at the fae creatures that passed as guards here. His warriors tightened the grips on their weapons, some of them raising them to near ready positions. In spite of the fact that there were far more fae creatures in the town, it seemed like they were ones who were at the disadvantage, and Fenrir's warriors knew that he rarely got that angry unless he was moments away from spilling blood.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Oct 31, 2024 15:28:22 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Jun 4, 2016 7:28:14 GMT -8
The Fae, threatened by these New Wolves on the Block immediately dropped down into their own defensive positions, what little glamour they had around their forms slipping away to look like the true creatures they were. They bore their teeth and their claws, their glacial eyes glowing blue, hissing at the werewolves that surrounded them.
Screams arose from the people in the square. Was there to be yet another battle within Aramoor? Fenrir, only so recently blessed by the Frost Queen herself, seemed as a monster to them, the people there having never seen such beasts with such weaponry before. They could little tell the difference between fae and wolf as all of them seemed to come from this wintry nightmare that had come upon their citadel.
"Watch your tongue, dog," hissed the Captain of the City Guard, a particularly gruesome looking fae, "we have done exactly as our queen commanded."
Which was true, in essence. The Winter Fae -- they cared little for mortal beings, for their wants and their needs. Or perhaps, it wasn't so much that they didn't care as they didn't know. They lived without care or thought for the biting cold of winter, and although they could see that the humans were cold, they expected them to be competent enough to not-die. It simply did not occur to the fae to provide assistance to the helpless creatures, which was a product of ignorant negligence, not intentional.
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Eian
New
Doing grate
Roleplay posts: 9
Age: 14
Physical Description: short black hair brushed to the right side in the front. Tan about 5'6. very skinny and very weak.
Clothes and Equipment: black leather armor with a steel sholder piece. has a bow and a dagger along with poison for the arrows and daggers. Their are three health potions on his side
Registered: Jun 4, 2016 9:33:23 GMT -8
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Post by Eian on Jun 4, 2016 10:41:03 GMT -8
Already being in the town square I get up from my position my once tanned face is now covered by a black hood and mask to cover the bottom of my face. As I walk you hear my dagger and bow bounce around being loosely attached to my deep black leather armour "perfect time" I walk into the crowd and begin to pit pocket people for money until I reach a booth full of food as I set the money down the man stops me Man "boy I said you can come here no more" Me " listen I have money I'm not going to beg and steal" Man "yeah sure you said that the last time and my weading ring is gone" Me "oh yeah thanks for being so stupid, I got a bit of money off of that damn ring hehehe" The man grabs be by my shit and lifts me up Man "I'm going to kill you kid" I put my dagger to his throat Me "listen , the guards are looking do you want to be arrested for murder for killing a 14 year old"
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Fenrir Skargard
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 196
Age: 29
Physical Description: Fenrir is a large Arctic Werewolf, with fur as white as the snow that plagues his habitat. His paws and muzzle are stained a slight pinkish color from the bloody nature of his food, primarily Caribou and Mountain Seal. His yellow eyes are predatory, and would be terrifying to see in the darkness of a cave or blizzard. He stands roughly 7ft tall, and weighs nearly 300lbs. His fur, claws, and teeth are immaculately well-maintained, as the Wolf believes that keeping oneself clean is foremost in respecting another, for if you do not respect yourself, you cannot respect others.
Clothes and Equipment: He wields the mighty sword White Fang, a Frost-Enchanted Sword he took from the lifeless corpse of a White Witch whom had promised him the sword, then tried to kill him with. The sword, imbued with the blood of the witch, gives him abilities similar to hers, mainly focusing on cold and frost related abilities. His legs are covered by plate armor, and his left arm is covered in a gauntlet with fingers ending in wicked looking claws. The gauntlet is inscribed with more Frost Runes, giving it similar, albeit less powerful, abilities to White Fang.
Registered: May 30, 2016 8:38:38 GMT -8
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Post by Fenrir Skargard on Jun 4, 2016 12:24:19 GMT -8
Fenrir held the Captain in his gaze, completely unphased by his appearance.
"You would do well to show respect, I am here under the Frost Queen's orders to take command and turn these humans into warriors for her. So you can do as I ask or will I have the Frost Queen know that you were deliberately opposing her orders."
Fenrir was no fool, the Fae were arrogant bastards, and would take no threat from him seriously. A threat from their Queen however should convince them to cooperate. And if didn't...well then he would just have to beat some cooperation into them.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Oct 31, 2024 15:28:22 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Jun 5, 2016 0:22:22 GMT -8
Fenrir had the right of it. He dropped the Queen's name, and the unseelie guard's lip curled in disgust, but he listened to the alpha wolf -- who proved just how alpha he was. The captain of the guard turned to the others and ordered them to find blankets, fur stoles, or wood and begin to start fires to warm the citizens.
He briefly glanced over to the teen having a spot with the merchant. Honestly, the Captain of the guard couldn't have given a fuck about these mortals and their petty arguments. a SEVERE WINTER had just overset this citadel on the cusp of SUMMER -- the Captain of the Guard was more surprised that there was even a stall open for business given that most of his wears had frozen over with the Frost Queen's influence.
If the teen killed the merchant, or if the merchant killed the teen, it didn't matter to the Captain. He'd just kill whoever survived, and it would be one less problem that he'd have to deal with.
And so, with the Captain under hand, the people gathered in the square -- who were forcibly gathered there, so a teenager winding through them would have been suspect in the first place -- turned their gaze onto the wolves that were surrounding them. They shivered in place, but they stared, waiting for Fenrir to get to the point of this gathering.
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Fenrir Skargard
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 196
Age: 29
Physical Description: Fenrir is a large Arctic Werewolf, with fur as white as the snow that plagues his habitat. His paws and muzzle are stained a slight pinkish color from the bloody nature of his food, primarily Caribou and Mountain Seal. His yellow eyes are predatory, and would be terrifying to see in the darkness of a cave or blizzard. He stands roughly 7ft tall, and weighs nearly 300lbs. His fur, claws, and teeth are immaculately well-maintained, as the Wolf believes that keeping oneself clean is foremost in respecting another, for if you do not respect yourself, you cannot respect others.
Clothes and Equipment: He wields the mighty sword White Fang, a Frost-Enchanted Sword he took from the lifeless corpse of a White Witch whom had promised him the sword, then tried to kill him with. The sword, imbued with the blood of the witch, gives him abilities similar to hers, mainly focusing on cold and frost related abilities. His legs are covered by plate armor, and his left arm is covered in a gauntlet with fingers ending in wicked looking claws. The gauntlet is inscribed with more Frost Runes, giving it similar, albeit less powerful, abilities to White Fang.
Registered: May 30, 2016 8:38:38 GMT -8
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Post by Fenrir Skargard on Jun 5, 2016 13:08:32 GMT -8
The Arctic Wolves lowered their weapons as the Fae Guard complied with the Alpha's orders. As the Fae got the fires and furs ready, the wolves moved throughout the people, shepherding them into groups so that they could ensure an even distribution of the populace around the fires and that as many as possible received the furs. Once everyone was in the groups, Fenrir would begin speaking, as his wolves moved through the crowds, selecting those that were able-bodied.
"Greetings, Citizens of Aramoor. I am Fenrir Skargard, Alpha of the Arctic Wolves and a representative of the Frost Queen. You all, as her people, are obliged to serve her in any way she sees fit. In this instance, she desires those of you who are able-bodied to join her army. My wolves and I will be training you to serve in such a capacity, but first, anyone who has any prior combat experience or training should step forward."
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Eian
New
Doing grate
Roleplay posts: 9
Age: 14
Physical Description: short black hair brushed to the right side in the front. Tan about 5'6. very skinny and very weak.
Clothes and Equipment: black leather armor with a steel sholder piece. has a bow and a dagger along with poison for the arrows and daggers. Their are three health potions on his side
Registered: Jun 4, 2016 9:33:23 GMT -8
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Post by Eian on Jun 5, 2016 13:50:41 GMT -8
Eian walks away from the man and over to Fenrir "Does stealing , lock picking, medic ability, and having a few kills under your belt count...I-i never had much training to fight but I can take a hit very well" he takes a deep gulp and starts to breath heavy "I'll be glad to join if I get three things 1.food 2.warmth 3. The chance to use my skills" Eian only being 14 is scared of of his mind of being killed by the wolf people or ice queen for something stupid he might do. He begins to sweat from the pressure and tension of waiting for a response
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Oct 31, 2024 15:28:22 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Jun 5, 2016 19:53:32 GMT -8
The people were divvied up by the wolves, the men less willing to work with the beastmen than the women, who were mostly too afraid to do much else. The men were sneering, although when the fae brought their heaps of wood to light fires, they seemed to flock to them. Snow was sprinkled on everyone's hair and shoulders, the bitter chill of the air biting at their noses and cheeks, turning them pink.
The fourteen year old boy came forward, and one man sneered at the way he groveled. He stepped forward, powerfully built, scarred, and by the way he moved, obviously a man that was used to war and combat. Why he did not fight until his last breath was not yet uncovered.
"What reason have we to do anything for the Frost Queen? She's invaded our homes and destroyed out city."
But the man wasn't saying no.... he just wanted incentive, it seemed. All the others seemed to be staring at Fenrir, wondering how he would react. Among those staring was the Captain of the Guard, no doubt eager to report to the Frost Queen he'd been threatened with if it seemed like Fenrir was making too many promises, or not handling his business very well.
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Eian
New
Doing grate
Roleplay posts: 9
Age: 14
Physical Description: short black hair brushed to the right side in the front. Tan about 5'6. very skinny and very weak.
Clothes and Equipment: black leather armor with a steel sholder piece. has a bow and a dagger along with poison for the arrows and daggers. Their are three health potions on his side
Registered: Jun 4, 2016 9:33:23 GMT -8
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Post by Eian on Jun 5, 2016 21:06:35 GMT -8
Eian relised he was starting to look weak and he dicided to turn the the man.... "BECAUSE WE ARE WEAK ALONE...us as humans sure the hell cant beat these guys so I'm terafied to fight any of them in combat I've never seen one until now and you know what your weak I could come over their and kill you but when we stick to those above us....we might survive" Eian looked at the wolves with a stern face "I will fight and die for the queen" Good thing they couldn't see the slight smerk of doubt under his mask to hide the bottom of his face
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Fenrir Skargard
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 196
Age: 29
Physical Description: Fenrir is a large Arctic Werewolf, with fur as white as the snow that plagues his habitat. His paws and muzzle are stained a slight pinkish color from the bloody nature of his food, primarily Caribou and Mountain Seal. His yellow eyes are predatory, and would be terrifying to see in the darkness of a cave or blizzard. He stands roughly 7ft tall, and weighs nearly 300lbs. His fur, claws, and teeth are immaculately well-maintained, as the Wolf believes that keeping oneself clean is foremost in respecting another, for if you do not respect yourself, you cannot respect others.
Clothes and Equipment: He wields the mighty sword White Fang, a Frost-Enchanted Sword he took from the lifeless corpse of a White Witch whom had promised him the sword, then tried to kill him with. The sword, imbued with the blood of the witch, gives him abilities similar to hers, mainly focusing on cold and frost related abilities. His legs are covered by plate armor, and his left arm is covered in a gauntlet with fingers ending in wicked looking claws. The gauntlet is inscribed with more Frost Runes, giving it similar, albeit less powerful, abilities to White Fang.
Registered: May 30, 2016 8:38:38 GMT -8
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Post by Fenrir Skargard on Jun 6, 2016 6:09:23 GMT -8
The Alpha looked at the man appraisingly, wanting a reason to fight was a good sign. Even the Wolves did not fight just for the sake of it and he could not fault the man for asking. The boy's grovelling was disgusting though, and he addressed him first.
"Boy, stabbing someone in the back is different from combat." His tone was dismissive and he waved the boy away.
"And yet she spared you. Should the people of Aramoor cooperate, I will do my best to get the Frost Queen to return the City to its former status and allow things to progress as close as possible to the way they used to, just under new leadership. Should the city not cooperate...I am only here because the Queen asked me to train warriors, if the people do not cooperate then there are no warriors to train and no reason for me to be here. My wolves and I will then depart, leaving you in the hands of the Fae, who know not what mortal beings need. So it is up to you."
His tone was definite and he meant the words he said. If they refused to lift a finger he would begin to kill them, slowly expanding his definition of "able-bodied" until it included everyone, the sick, the old and the young.
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Eian
New
Doing grate
Roleplay posts: 9
Age: 14
Physical Description: short black hair brushed to the right side in the front. Tan about 5'6. very skinny and very weak.
Clothes and Equipment: black leather armor with a steel sholder piece. has a bow and a dagger along with poison for the arrows and daggers. Their are three health potions on his side
Registered: Jun 4, 2016 9:33:23 GMT -8
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Post by Eian on Jun 6, 2016 9:21:19 GMT -8
Eian walks away. He goes through the crowd as people laugh and snicker. "Perfect I became the city's jester" people also say things like I derserved it . As I get to the back of the crowd I turn to the wolfs and think 'they don't need me I'm too walk even the queen wouldn't want to be in the same room as me' I jolt my head back as I walk away from everyone and I sit down with my right leg up and my left leg our as I stare at the bright white snow on the floor.
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