Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 21, 2024 4:17:33 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Oct 16, 2016 21:45:26 GMT -8
What they say about the abyss is true. When you look to long, you realize that it is actually looking at you.
And so the Darkness did, a curious pluck on a wicked web that touched every soul in Sakand, whether they knew it or not. A taste of something new.
And oh, that Darkness hungered.
For now, however, those faint whispers, that twisted presence was content to watch that which came to study... taking its measure... remembering its... taste... and whispering back down other threads of the web just what it had discovered...
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Aluandra
New
There shall be blood in the sand
Roleplay posts: 7 
Age: 27
Physical Description: Hair:Red
Eyes:Green
Somewhat stocky, with a bearing and countenance of movement not unlike a man, well defined muscles supporting a full, statuesque figure, upon her tan skin is a nebula of scars upon scars, testament to the violent habit of living for which her soul had fallen. Aluandra has an alluring, heart-shaped face of comely proportion and features beset by the cruel mien divulged from someone accustomed to the more extreme forms of expression, mostly violence. Swagger to her walk, not of arrogance but of confidence; hers is the make of a lion at leisure, untroubled and undaunted, however there is a perpetual sort of anger there, and a restless spirit.
Clothes and Equipment: Rough, well worn and very sparse clothing, various weapons
Bracers for her arms and greaves for her legs
The pelt of a very large lion
Player's online availability : Various
Registered: Oct 21, 2016 14:56:24 GMT -8
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Post by Aluandra on Oct 21, 2016 17:01:49 GMT -8
From on high, the unforgiving sun beat down upon her with the infernal heat of Satan himself slapping her on the backside. She may as well have been doused in oil, with his lecherous, spectral hands igniting her with the humid, water-distorted atmosphere around her with a dignity-shattering slap to the face that was the smoldering golden sunlight upon her light-deprived features. Stepping onto the deck from the cargo hold of a merchant ship, fists planted on hips as she purveys the bustling docks Aluandra looked ready to chew through rebar for the sneer on her face, as she shoves past dockworkers fixing the planks to the docks to begin unloading cargo. It was bloody bright, after spending the entire trip, some days in almost total darkness.
With a travel bag on her back, she looks around in earnest, not sure what she wanted to do, however this has never stopped her before, and unless acted upon by an outside force, she would make her way into the Harbor proper.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 21, 2024 4:17:33 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Oct 21, 2016 18:47:35 GMT -8
Oh, the woman was most certainly intercepted, and by a pretty priestess who clearly admired the tall warrioress. Her dark Sakandi eyes took Aluandra's measure as she approached, multiple agana flowers hanging from the soft crook of her arm. A wealth of golden skin was visible, and boldly, brazenly, she slipped into place in front of the traveler.
"Welcome to Sakand," she said with a smile, and she stepped forward to place the necklace around Aluandras head -- and then she boldly kissed Aluandra, satin lips against satin lips.
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Karath Durson
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 168 
Age: 27
Registered: Oct 27, 2015 20:59:28 GMT -8
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Post by Karath Durson on Oct 21, 2016 18:49:45 GMT -8
"Well, you don't look like you're from around here," the voice of a young man spoke as she walked into the harbor, just after the priestess had essentially said her hello. Coincidentally walking in the same direction, Karath was only a few strides behind her, confidently engaging her in casual discussion as he often liked to do, as foreigners entered the city through the harbor. "Curious," he asked in a friendly tone, "how'd you get aboard that ship?" |
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Aluandra
New
There shall be blood in the sand
Roleplay posts: 7
Age: 27
Physical Description: Hair:Red
Eyes:Green
Somewhat stocky, with a bearing and countenance of movement not unlike a man, well defined muscles supporting a full, statuesque figure, upon her tan skin is a nebula of scars upon scars, testament to the violent habit of living for which her soul had fallen. Aluandra has an alluring, heart-shaped face of comely proportion and features beset by the cruel mien divulged from someone accustomed to the more extreme forms of expression, mostly violence. Swagger to her walk, not of arrogance but of confidence; hers is the make of a lion at leisure, untroubled and undaunted, however there is a perpetual sort of anger there, and a restless spirit.
Clothes and Equipment: Rough, well worn and very sparse clothing, various weapons
Bracers for her arms and greaves for her legs
The pelt of a very large lion
Player's online availability : Various
Registered: Oct 21, 2016 14:56:24 GMT -8
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Post by Aluandra on Oct 21, 2016 19:07:44 GMT -8
Was hot, muggy, and probably not of the most pleasant of odors and aroma. When approached, she looks down upon the woman before her, the welcoming commity? She gave off an almost regal air, and her jovial spirits where on equal par with her preternatural grace. When kissed, she kisses back, when their lips part, hers curl into a smile, she pistons a hip and shifts the bag on her back by the strap, her eyes flashing playful cerulean heat, as she marvels her new acquisition around her neck as well as her new acquaintance, she liked this place already! "Nice to meet you. Now where can a girl get cleaned up and get some good food? I've got the coin; was a champion for some rich guy, now I'm looking to put my steel against a REAL challenge, catch my drift?" She looks over her greeters shoulder and acknowledges the fellow behind her, if nothing else.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 21, 2024 4:17:33 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Oct 21, 2016 19:23:07 GMT -8
She bit gently on Aluandra's lip as she pulled away, giving her a little smile until her eyes took in Karath who had come up to speak to Aluandra. The priestess answered all the same.
"Stay a little longer in Sakand, and your challenge will be met. Enjoy your stay," she said and drifted away to greet other visitors, although much less intimately as shed greeted Aluandra.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 21, 2024 4:17:33 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Dec 8, 2016 13:06:17 GMT -8
The boat carrying another batch of travelers arrived in the harbor, unloading the tourists. Among them was a little halfling woman, barely 3 feet in height, as she walked towards the gates with a giant backpack that by all rights should weigh her down too much. She arrived with her passport in hand, ready to check in.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 21, 2024 4:17:33 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Dec 9, 2016 7:42:54 GMT -8
As Orani stepped off the boat with the denizens of other tourists, she was greeted as all others were greeted. White-draped pretty and young priestesses stepped forward, with necklaces made of the Agana Flower native to Sakand.
Orani's priestess was charmed by her height, and as she placed the flower necklace over her head, she kissed her cheek. "Welcome to Sakand," she said on a voice with an accent that promised far off places, magic spells, and princes in disguise -- Sakand.
If Orani gave no trouble and proceeded toward the Porthouse with papers in tact, her measure would be taken by the cerulean-tuniced guards, hummingbird badges on their chests, bright turbans on their head. A small, golden and glowing ball would roll over her paperwork, as well as hover in the air to scan her person.
Then, she'd be off and into the city of Sakand.
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Alden Marshal
Widely Known
Roleplay posts: 1,420
Age: 30
Physical Description: Alden is 6 even, with shoulder length messy black hair, and several days worth of beard stubble. He is handsome, with a powerful jaw, mid set cheek bones, and a perpetual grin that makes him seem younger than he really is. His bright green eyes, constantly sparkle with barely contained mirth. He has the lithe well muscled body of a swordsmen, and he moves with considerable grace and dexterity.
If one where to take more thorough examination of Alden's eyes they may notice a further detail. Around the outside edge of his iris's there's an intricate series of minuscule grey runes.
Alden rarely removes his shirt, but should someone see him with it off, they would find his body to be covered in scar tissue. Starting from just below his neckline, there is very little space that does not sport some relic of a past injury. A particularly observant person may also note that among these scars, some are a bright scarlet. These scarlet scars form an intricate series of runes hiding among the others.
Those of a more magical bent may be able to decipher the runes in his eyes and on his skin. Identifying them as sigils more commonly found on magical items. The most obvious effect of the runes on his body, are increased speed, strength, and durability.
The runes on his eyes give him the ability to detect magical auras and residue, as well as allowing him to see through low level illusions and glamours. They also maintain his vision regardless of the current light level, and even if there is a sudden shift. His eyes are also capable of dropping into the infrared spectrum in complete darkness.
The rune work on his body enhances his natural strength, speed, endurance, durability, and reflexes to almost super human levels. The effects make him a formidable opponent for most magical creatures though only because they are supplemented by exceptional skill.
This means that all though he is almost super human in a straight contest of strength or speed he would most likely loose to most other magically enhanced humanoids such as vampires or were wolves.
Alden's runes also greatly increase his healing rate allowing him to recover from injuries that would normally take a few months for a person to recover from in a few short weeks. Not only do Alden's runes accelerate healing they also enhance it. A normal persons body will repair itself until it is functioning again then stop, thanks to the runes Alden's body will continues to fix itself until it is in near perfect condition. His healing abilities enhance his already prodigious stamina as it repairs muscle damage and lactic build up and it also increases longevity as he does not accumulate long term damage as most people do.
Finally his body runes provide protection from people attempts to find him magically. Detection spells will be obfuscated their readings on his location being off by about 20 meters. Long distance scrying and tracking spells are only able to narrow down his area to somewhere within a mile radius. It should be noted that these protections can be overcome by someone with sufficient power or ingenuity.
His runes cannot be removed unless they are cut off of his body using an appropriate ritual knife and magic. If the runes are disrupted in any other way they will simply grow back in a few weeks time.
The final thing that only someone versed in rune craft and enchanting would be able to tell is this: The process of these runes being carved into his bodies would have been unbelievably painful. A normal person would have been driven insane or to suicide if they had this happen to them. During the carving process un-directed magical energies would begin to take hold and tear apart your soul. The pain this would not cease until the rune pattern was completed. This means the pain caused would be on a spiritual and physical level of incredible magnitude.
Clothes and Equipment: Read this post for equipment update: http://thefantasysandbox.boards.net/post/27933
A re-paired and enchanted grey cloak, leather armor, twin short swords, bag of candy, full water skin, a few days worth of travel rations, enchanted leather boots, and a brace of throwing knives.
Player's online availability : On and off during the day, more active during evenings (EST)
Registered: Oct 30, 2015 14:59:43 GMT -8
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Post by Alden Marshal on Jan 3, 2017 13:11:04 GMT -8
Alden arrives at the city and waits for the guards to notice his presence. He was expected and he was hard to mistake for anyone else. How many people would wear mottled grey leather armor and a black scarf pinned by a gold marshals badge? He stands in the sweltering heat of the desert and seems unfazed by it as he examines the city walls taking an estimation of the cities defenses.
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Grandma
Widely Known
Imperial Vizier of Isra
Roleplay posts: 1,017
Age: 90
Physical Description: ---------------------------------------------------------
An elderly and frail looking woman with white wispy hair. However, despite being old, her back is not bent by age nor are her eyes clouded by it.
Clothes and Equipment: ---------------------------------------------------------
She wears a deep purple robe that has sleeves that extend far beyond her hands. Her hands are covered with fine gloves of black silk and she wears one ring on each, one having a purple stone set in it and the other a piece of onyx. Carrying an ornate cane of orellium, Grandma can use it to increase her magical channeling as well as assist in deflecting others spells with it. The cane itself is black and covered in numerous ornate, but tiny runes. The cap on the cane is a purplish colored gem. On her wrist is a silver bracelet with a ruby in it that Grandma uses for telepathic communication with others in its network.
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Registered: Sept 12, 2015 8:27:42 GMT -8
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Post by Grandma on Mar 6, 2017 10:01:46 GMT -8
Grandma exited from a smaller ship that was docked at The Harbor, two maids in tow, who were both carrying luggage. Cane hanging unused in a small holster of sorts on the side of her robe, Grandma carried a faintly purple parasol instead, using it to shade herself from the intense sun. Her gaze swiveled back and forth as she walked towards the gates that went into the city itself, showing only slight interest in what she saw.
It had been a while since she had initially visited Sakand to make the deal with Fairuz. Now that the war with Goraia was finished, she had returned here for business of a more personal nature. Before she had visited as an Emissary of Isra, now she visited as a traveler. Heading towards the nearest guard, she addressed the man in her oh so practiced warm, grandmotherly, voice that she frequently used.
“Excuse me my good guard, but I have a question about where something is located… As you can probably tell, I’m not from around here but have heard much talk about a library that’s in Sakand. Where might I find this library?”
She offered the man a disarming smile while the two maids behind her simply stood there stoically.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 21, 2024 4:17:33 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Mar 6, 2017 10:36:23 GMT -8
As Grandma disembarked from her ship, young and smiling priestesses made to move forward but faltered as they saw who it was and who was with them. It wasn't due to any reputation that preceeded Grandma, but the way she seemed determined to get somewhere, her age and her single-minded focus... it made the greeting girls with their leis falter in their step and they stayed back, just smiling a closed-lip smile and letting their gaze drop to their feet as Grandma and her maids passed.
By the time Grandma came to the customs board, the usual went down -- papers were recorded, visages were recorded, things were checked for blood or necromatic magic, but Grandma and her crew passed with flying colors. Again, her importance was not yet noted by the Sakandi men working, but one of them stopped what he was doing to answer her.
"You are looking for the Temple of Serenity," the man said in a heavy Sakandi accent. He squinted into the magnificent skyline of the magic city and pointed to a golden dome, a spear at its top where three golden balls were hung in suspension. "There," he pointed in its direction.
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Grandma
Widely Known
Imperial Vizier of Isra
Roleplay posts: 1,017
Age: 90
Physical Description: ---------------------------------------------------------
An elderly and frail looking woman with white wispy hair. However, despite being old, her back is not bent by age nor are her eyes clouded by it.
Clothes and Equipment: ---------------------------------------------------------
She wears a deep purple robe that has sleeves that extend far beyond her hands. Her hands are covered with fine gloves of black silk and she wears one ring on each, one having a purple stone set in it and the other a piece of onyx. Carrying an ornate cane of orellium, Grandma can use it to increase her magical channeling as well as assist in deflecting others spells with it. The cane itself is black and covered in numerous ornate, but tiny runes. The cap on the cane is a purplish colored gem. On her wrist is a silver bracelet with a ruby in it that Grandma uses for telepathic communication with others in its network.
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Registered: Sept 12, 2015 8:27:42 GMT -8
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Post by Grandma on Mar 6, 2017 12:15:26 GMT -8
“Ah, I see, that name does sound familiar to me. Yes, I think that is the place I was looking for. Thank you so much for your assistance.”
Now that she knew where she should be heading, Grandma turned from the guard and began moving in the direction that he had indicated. The two maids behind her held the same expression still and followed her silently.
<Exit to Temple of Serenity>
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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 Mar 7, 2017 4:51:24 GMT -8
This place was hot, the captain had not been kidding. Fortunately, the frost runes etched into his armor were plenty to keep him at a reasonabke temperature as he explored this new land. Esdara had been interesting, but ultimately not a place he would want to end up, they saw things very differently then he did. On a whim, a passing traveller had mentioned Sakand to him, and he had embarked on a journey to see a part of the world he had never seen.
Plus he got to go on a ship.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 21, 2024 4:17:33 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Mar 7, 2017 10:22:03 GMT -8
 As Fenrir stepped off the ship onto the sparkling docks of Sakand, the greeting party was there. White-wrapped priestesses, young and vibrant and beautiful, caramel skin visible on their thighs and calves and torsos and shoulders were smiling at Fenrir, even if they blinked and burst into giggles at his feral appearance. One priestess, however, came forward with a sweet sway to her hips, holding the flower lei in her hands. "Welcome to Sakand," she said in a heavy desert accent, and went up on her tip-toes to place it around his neck... and to brush her lips against the fur of his cheeks to grant him a kiss. One on each one. After the greeting (unless Fenrir wants to stay and get to know the priestess...), he'd be able to see the flow of footraffic went to gates into the city, wide and ornate, gilded with gold and mosaics and bright, cerulean tiles. The gate itself was a piece of art, and their were Hummingbird guard -- in their bright turbans and tunics, a golden hummingbird emblazoned on their chests -- checking papers of the foreigners and the carts and loading of the natives. |
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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 Mar 9, 2017 7:10:36 GMT -8
The attractiveness of the priestesses, while noted by Fenrir (who understood human conceptions of beauty, even if he generally disagreed with them), had little effect on the seasoned warrior, apart from being pleasantly surprised at the rather pleasant nature of the greeting. The shock was visible on his face for a moment or two, before he attributed it to a foreign culture.
The priestesses would find his fur to be surprisingly cool given its thickness and the temperature of the environment, the dimly glowing blue runes on his armor the probably source of this cooling effect.
"Thank you, certainly a...friendly greeting. Everybody get that or just me?" He asked, genuinely curious as to how many priestesses they had if everyone were to receive this greeting.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 21, 2024 4:17:33 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Mar 10, 2017 11:01:42 GMT -8
 The flowers rested around Fenris' furred neck, and the coolness of his fur coaxed a little " Oooh," from the priestess' mouth, making a smile warm her features as she rested back onto the bare flats of her feet. Her hands trailed over his cold armor, and her fingertips touched the glowing runes for a moment before she lifted her dark gaze from his chest and up into his lupine features. " All visitors are welcomed to Sakand in this way," the priestess said, her Sakandi accent heavy. He'd be able to notice then, the young, beautiful girls in white sprinkled about the crowds as they came, with a shaded "booth" as their headquarters upon the wharf where other girls laughed and spoke amongst eachother, threading new leis to put upon the guests. " Will you need a guide for Sakand?" the priestess asked, and a little smile ticked at the corner of her mouth as she looked up at him. Would he, indeed? The flowers around his neck were fragrant, but not overwhelming so, and seemed to be as green and vibrant as when they were harvested. |
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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 Mar 13, 2017 5:11:53 GMT -8
"I am very unfamiliar with the city, a guide would be much appreciated, thank you." He said gratefully, sniffing tentatively at the lei, the flowers smelling different to those of his home, much more fragrant.
The observation that he was not the only one getting such a welcome was rather encouraging, he had gotten used to being singled out for looking dangerous. Of course, he was dangerous, bug he was no monster, intent on killing indiscriminately wherever he found himself. No, he always had a good reason for killing.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 21, 2024 4:17:33 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Mar 13, 2017 13:57:17 GMT -8
The priestess laughed at him, her eyes sparkling with something mischievous. "Then perhaps you had better find one." She pointed toward the cerulean gates. "Out there."
She gave him a little wave, and then moved on with the other pretty priestesses to greet more passengers and guests to Sakand. There were options for Fenrir, of course. He could insist that priestess accompany him, or perhaps make another service him.
There were native sailors and soldiers about that he could question if he liked, and if he paid attention to appearances, quite a few native captains and merchants about, as well as those that came from other far off places. There was no place for him to eat, or break water, or to rest, however -- unless he tried lounging among the crates and barrels like the other sailors were doing, so whatever else Fenrir wanted would be found within the city itself.
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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 Mar 14, 2017 14:26:15 GMT -8
Fenrir waved good-bye to thr priestess, shrugging his shoulders and heading on into the city.
<Exit>
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King Renaux of Travére
Dedicated
The King of Gauldin
Roleplay posts: 368
Age: 29
Physical Description: Standing at 6'4 Renaux is an imposing figure. He is well muscled from years of training and he has collected his fair share of scars. His auburn hair is kept short in a military style, and his face is clean shaven. He has a powerful jaw, mid set cheek bones, and a smooth brow. His blue eyes are fierce and determined, though there are smile lines in the corners.
Renaux was never supposed to be king he is actually the second son of the now deceased King Voltair. The former king and the crown prince Vyun both died in an a tragic airship crash three years ago much to Renauxs sorrow and anger. Renaux never held any aspirations for the crown and hated the thought of having things given to him. He entered the Académie Royale de le Pégase by winning the yearly tournament while posing as a peasant. He kept up this charade over his years serving with the Royal Air Force reaching the rank of Captain on his own merits.
He may have spent another few years in this guise but with his father and brother dead he was forced to ascend to the throne. Relatively unknown among the nobility Renaux has faced many challenges in the last two years. These turned the young military commander into a king whether or not he will prove to be a good one is still unknown.
Clothes and Equipment: Pretty much whatever he wants he's a king.
The Crown of Wings, and his Bastard Sword.
Clothing changes between enchanted plate, military dress, and casual clothing.
Registered: Dec 3, 2015 18:03:01 GMT -8
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Post by King Renaux of Travére on Apr 4, 2017 13:26:16 GMT -8
The proud hull of a ship breaks through the clouds high above the city of Sakand, an honor guard of knights flying about it proudly. The ship is a massive galleon flying the royal pennant of Gauldin, it's three masts slowly being drawn to half as the airship sails on currents of wind down towards the city. The honor guard looks resplendent on their steeds in, winged horses with fur ranging from silver to alabaster white with manes ever color in between, their riders decked in the practical yet spectacular silver white with gold trim of the Pegasus knighthood.
On the deck of the ship Renaux stands in formal dress, he'd been talked out of wearing his armor by his dear wife, looking uncomfortable in the straight-backed white and gold clothing that is somewhere between a suit and a uniform, his crown resting on his brow. His kingly image is somewhat spoiled by the toddler whose arms are wrapped around his neck, Prince Voltaire was dressed in a small scale version of his father's clothing and had been fussing at it so much that Renaux had picked him up to calm the boy down. For the moment he seemed content, though the long voyage had tried the boy's patience something fierce. Heaven forbid he ever find out they could have teleported there.
The captain of the ship looks for the private dock the Emire had promised to have set up for them, both to show respect the Gauldish throne and because the airship couldn't dock at a normal port without some difficulty. A temporary air dock should have been constructed to berth The Royal, which was the, frankly silly in the king's opinion, name of the airship.
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