Far-Off Places
Established
Roleplay posts: 12
Registered: May 18, 2016 18:24:50 GMT -8
|
Post by Far-Off Places on Jul 12, 2016 17:12:43 GMT -8
There are countless little roads and foot paths criss-crossing back and forth over the Free Plains. Some are old and bumpy, some are new and barely worn in.
|
|
Emahra Untyrid
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 276
Age: 158
Physical Description: Like all of the Kehl-Nari Elves, Emahra is tall and of a slender build, standing at 5'10" and covered in the toned muscles that come from a lifetime of training in the way of the sword. Her skin is fair, and she bears the elegant bone structure and pointed ears of the Elvenkind, that lend her a nearly breathtaking beauty. Her hair is long, falling to mid-thigh when unbound, and is a bright, vivid shade of blue, although she habitually wears it bound back into an intricate plait. Her eyes are a rich, liquid amber-gold that that are, much like her expressive facial features, usually filled with whatever she may be thinking or feeling at that moment. While not amply endowed, like many women, she has a respectably-sized bosom, a trim waist, and shapely hips, accentuated by long, graceful legs.
----------------------------------
Clothes and Equipment: Typically, Emahra wears one of two ensembles. The one most commonly seen consists of tight-fitting dark blue breeches that are tucked into a pair of knee-high black leather boots, paired with a black brocade corset, and detached black lace sleeves that cover her arms from just below the shoulder to the base of her fingers, leaving them and her thumbs exposed. All of these items are painstakingly inlaid with runes of protection sewn in magical thread, that make them as strong as armor and spell-resistant. The other outfit is far more casual and lacking in protective enchantments, comprised of a pair of low-slung pants that are tight around the hips and upper thighs, but start to billow out at mid-thigh, to then gather again at the ankle; a sleeveless, midriff-baring top; and a set of comfortable slippers, all made of silky white material that never stains, tears, or wrinkles. These are paired with a sash the same color blue as her hair that she wears wound around her hips. Regardless of her attire, at all times, she wears a slim golden band around her brow that bears a single smooth, teardrop-shaped gem of darkest sapphire; this circlet bears an enchantment similar to the ones inscribed into her normal attire. Whichever set of clothing she isn't wearing at the time makes its home in a plain black pack which she carries, that also houses basic supplies such as a healer's kit and travel rations. She also carries with her at all times the Heirloom Blade of her House, the Blade of Ankiri. Its blade is five feet long, and it bears a hilt of blue leather above a golden crossguard, its pommel inlaid with a deep sapphire blue gem that seems infused with an inner light; at its crossguard is a blue flame, the sigil of House Untyrid. This Blade can be wielded only by one of the blood of House Untyrid, and will burn the hands of anyone else who attempts to wield it, before seeking to return to its owner by whatever means possible. It also has the capability to manipulate the wind and, in trained hands, can create storms of cataclysmic proportions; at the great expense of the one who wields it, it can, under extreme conditions, play with the rules of time.
----------------------------------
Allegiances: Isran Empire
Player's online availability : Evenings. (EST)
Registered: Apr 28, 2016 0:02:46 GMT -8
|
Post by Emahra Untyrid on Jul 12, 2016 17:13:12 GMT -8
Three days spent searching within the city's limits for a house had turned up nothing that met the needs of her companion, and Emahra had begun to get frustrated. Then while out riding in the plain, she'd come upon it: The perfect spot. How she knew it was perfect, Emahra wasn't entirely sure. But she'd always gone with her instincts, and they'd told her that this place - admittedly little more than ruins at this point - was the spot where Valerian Kastimeer would have his perfect home. She'd returned to his room that morning and alerted him to come with her. That had been about two hours ago, prior to a trip to the stables and a subsequent journey out of Isra's gates. They were now cantering down the western bank of the Silverion River, Ema upon her feisty white mare. She slowly reined the equine from the rapid three-beat pace down to a trot, and assuming Valerian mirrored the action, she turned her head to look at him with gleaming golden eyes.. but they weren't just filled with the animated excitement that was evident in her tone. There was also a sparkle of mischief in the amber-tinted depths.
"Now, I suspect you are probably wondering what we are doing all the way out here, no? I know we were looking inside the city, but something occurred to me yesterday after we parted ways, as I was riding through the plain. You will likely be spending a great deal of time at the dry docks down at the lake, yes? But you will also often need to return to Isra for various and sundry important things. It would make far more sense for you to have a home somewhere between the two, so that you can access either location with a fair amount of rapidity, would it not?"
|
|
Valerian Kastimeer
Established
Roleplay posts: 48
Age: 32
Physical Description: Valerian is of average height at 5'10", with the lean build of a climber and fighter. Black hair is kept cut fairly short, with the bangs hanging over his brow but not quite in his eyes and the rest roughly matching that theme. His eyes are black, with iris and pupil indistinguishable from each other. Valerian looks young for his age, often taken to be five or more years younger than he in fact is. Typically on his shoulder, but sometimes in a pocket, is the undead squirrel companion that Valerian has named "Rupert."
Clothes and Equipment: ---------------------------------------------
Valerian is almost constantly clad in a semi-formal blue uniform, complete with award ribbons, a gold command braid, and shoulder and collar rank insignia. The uniform can include a long black coat in inclement weather. It is exceedingly rare for Valerian to be seen without his weapon; a broad-headed spear of variable properties. At times it is standard length for a battle spear, comfortably wielded in two hands and impossible to wield with one; at others it is short enough to use one-handed. Similar to the spear, Valerian is never seen without the white gloves he wears -- those gloves bear some arcane symbol on the back of the hand. Rounding out his equipment is an assortment of pouches in pockets and occasionally on his belt, their contents mostly as mysterious as the symbol on his gloves.
Player's online availability : Varies.
Registered: May 4, 2016 20:26:48 GMT -8
|
Post by Valerian Kastimeer on Jul 12, 2016 17:37:58 GMT -8
Valerian had followed along, of course, but he was picky about something as important as his long-term home. So when she showed such excitement -- Valerian took it for optimism -- on their fourth day of searching, Valerian couldn't help that slight smirk and amusement at her determination. This was about the time Valerian was revealed to be, at best, a mediocre rider; he had spent much more time on the deck of a ship than the back of a horse, after all, and a living horse wasn't a slave to his whims in the same way as his more preferred mounts.
Rupert had somehow ended up atop the horse's head, each paw holding an ear to steady himself as he looked around; this seemed to unnerve the horse, making Valerian's shoddy riding skill more problematic than it otherwise would have been.
"That it would indeed, Ema. That was one of the issues I had with the places in the city."
|
|
Emahra Untyrid
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 276
Age: 158
Physical Description: Like all of the Kehl-Nari Elves, Emahra is tall and of a slender build, standing at 5'10" and covered in the toned muscles that come from a lifetime of training in the way of the sword. Her skin is fair, and she bears the elegant bone structure and pointed ears of the Elvenkind, that lend her a nearly breathtaking beauty. Her hair is long, falling to mid-thigh when unbound, and is a bright, vivid shade of blue, although she habitually wears it bound back into an intricate plait. Her eyes are a rich, liquid amber-gold that that are, much like her expressive facial features, usually filled with whatever she may be thinking or feeling at that moment. While not amply endowed, like many women, she has a respectably-sized bosom, a trim waist, and shapely hips, accentuated by long, graceful legs.
----------------------------------
Clothes and Equipment: Typically, Emahra wears one of two ensembles. The one most commonly seen consists of tight-fitting dark blue breeches that are tucked into a pair of knee-high black leather boots, paired with a black brocade corset, and detached black lace sleeves that cover her arms from just below the shoulder to the base of her fingers, leaving them and her thumbs exposed. All of these items are painstakingly inlaid with runes of protection sewn in magical thread, that make them as strong as armor and spell-resistant. The other outfit is far more casual and lacking in protective enchantments, comprised of a pair of low-slung pants that are tight around the hips and upper thighs, but start to billow out at mid-thigh, to then gather again at the ankle; a sleeveless, midriff-baring top; and a set of comfortable slippers, all made of silky white material that never stains, tears, or wrinkles. These are paired with a sash the same color blue as her hair that she wears wound around her hips. Regardless of her attire, at all times, she wears a slim golden band around her brow that bears a single smooth, teardrop-shaped gem of darkest sapphire; this circlet bears an enchantment similar to the ones inscribed into her normal attire. Whichever set of clothing she isn't wearing at the time makes its home in a plain black pack which she carries, that also houses basic supplies such as a healer's kit and travel rations. She also carries with her at all times the Heirloom Blade of her House, the Blade of Ankiri. Its blade is five feet long, and it bears a hilt of blue leather above a golden crossguard, its pommel inlaid with a deep sapphire blue gem that seems infused with an inner light; at its crossguard is a blue flame, the sigil of House Untyrid. This Blade can be wielded only by one of the blood of House Untyrid, and will burn the hands of anyone else who attempts to wield it, before seeking to return to its owner by whatever means possible. It also has the capability to manipulate the wind and, in trained hands, can create storms of cataclysmic proportions; at the great expense of the one who wields it, it can, under extreme conditions, play with the rules of time.
----------------------------------
Allegiances: Isran Empire
Player's online availability : Evenings. (EST)
Registered: Apr 28, 2016 0:02:46 GMT -8
|
Post by Emahra Untyrid on Jul 12, 2016 18:38:54 GMT -8
Her nose crinkled a bit at his words, and the delicate feature twitched a bit - one of her odd habits that usually happened when she was embarrassed or bemused. In this case, it was mostly the former. But all trace of said embarrassment completely disappeared from her face as Emahra looked at Rupert, perched between the horse's ears and looking around. The sight was amusing enough to make her laugh, her lips curving into a wide, toothy grin. Then she was shaking aside her obvious mirth and looking back toward Valerian.
"Yes, well, I had not thought there would be any houses outside the city, which is why I did not start looking here first. But I was wrong. ..Well, in a manner of speaking." There was a playful lilt to her voice as she reined her horse in yet further, bringing the mare to a walk just as they crested a small rise. Laid out before them was.. ruins?
"Apparently there used to be a house here. But if you look at how it is laid out, what is left of it... Can you envision the possibilities?" She let the reins fall into her lap, the well-trained mare barely even budging as her rider raised her hands, framing the sprawl of ruins and trees laid out before them. When she spoke, it was with a voice greatly animated with optimism and excitement.
"I see a flight of wide, sweeping steps leading up to a grand columned entryway. Two bold stories flanked by wings, which sweep back to form a courtyard. You could have such a lovely garden there, something with a fountain. And all of it in lovely dusky stone, crowned with ruddy roof tiles." She let her hands fall and looked over at him, those eyes sparkling while she grinned. "Can you picture it, Valerian? I can imagine you there. I see you gazing upon your domain, watching the ships move up and down the river."
|
|
Valerian Kastimeer
Established
Roleplay posts: 48
Age: 32
Physical Description: Valerian is of average height at 5'10", with the lean build of a climber and fighter. Black hair is kept cut fairly short, with the bangs hanging over his brow but not quite in his eyes and the rest roughly matching that theme. His eyes are black, with iris and pupil indistinguishable from each other. Valerian looks young for his age, often taken to be five or more years younger than he in fact is. Typically on his shoulder, but sometimes in a pocket, is the undead squirrel companion that Valerian has named "Rupert."
Clothes and Equipment: ---------------------------------------------
Valerian is almost constantly clad in a semi-formal blue uniform, complete with award ribbons, a gold command braid, and shoulder and collar rank insignia. The uniform can include a long black coat in inclement weather. It is exceedingly rare for Valerian to be seen without his weapon; a broad-headed spear of variable properties. At times it is standard length for a battle spear, comfortably wielded in two hands and impossible to wield with one; at others it is short enough to use one-handed. Similar to the spear, Valerian is never seen without the white gloves he wears -- those gloves bear some arcane symbol on the back of the hand. Rounding out his equipment is an assortment of pouches in pockets and occasionally on his belt, their contents mostly as mysterious as the symbol on his gloves.
Player's online availability : Varies.
Registered: May 4, 2016 20:26:48 GMT -8
|
Post by Valerian Kastimeer on Jul 14, 2016 21:13:21 GMT -8
Valerian... seemed dumbfounded, looking around without speaking and with a fairly neutral expression. Rupert, on the other hand, had vanished -- scampered off somewhere presumably. It took a long moment for Valerian to return his gaze to Emahra and nod decisively. "Yes, I can... I can, indeed."
Valerian took this moment to dismount -- he was relatively graceful in that, at least -- and strolled toward the ruins, still looking around in interest. His tone, now, was distracted as he considered the possibilities and made plans. "It will be cheaper to acquire this, and I can repair and rebuild... well, quickly and cheaply." No sense mentioning his arts; she seemed to like Rupert, but undead minions were still not likely to put her at ease.
Speaking of Rupert, he reappeared right about now, standing up on one of the still-standing arches and looking around curiously. For once that seemed to be the extent of his antics; maybe he was impressed, too?
|
|
Emahra Untyrid
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 276
Age: 158
Physical Description: Like all of the Kehl-Nari Elves, Emahra is tall and of a slender build, standing at 5'10" and covered in the toned muscles that come from a lifetime of training in the way of the sword. Her skin is fair, and she bears the elegant bone structure and pointed ears of the Elvenkind, that lend her a nearly breathtaking beauty. Her hair is long, falling to mid-thigh when unbound, and is a bright, vivid shade of blue, although she habitually wears it bound back into an intricate plait. Her eyes are a rich, liquid amber-gold that that are, much like her expressive facial features, usually filled with whatever she may be thinking or feeling at that moment. While not amply endowed, like many women, she has a respectably-sized bosom, a trim waist, and shapely hips, accentuated by long, graceful legs.
----------------------------------
Clothes and Equipment: Typically, Emahra wears one of two ensembles. The one most commonly seen consists of tight-fitting dark blue breeches that are tucked into a pair of knee-high black leather boots, paired with a black brocade corset, and detached black lace sleeves that cover her arms from just below the shoulder to the base of her fingers, leaving them and her thumbs exposed. All of these items are painstakingly inlaid with runes of protection sewn in magical thread, that make them as strong as armor and spell-resistant. The other outfit is far more casual and lacking in protective enchantments, comprised of a pair of low-slung pants that are tight around the hips and upper thighs, but start to billow out at mid-thigh, to then gather again at the ankle; a sleeveless, midriff-baring top; and a set of comfortable slippers, all made of silky white material that never stains, tears, or wrinkles. These are paired with a sash the same color blue as her hair that she wears wound around her hips. Regardless of her attire, at all times, she wears a slim golden band around her brow that bears a single smooth, teardrop-shaped gem of darkest sapphire; this circlet bears an enchantment similar to the ones inscribed into her normal attire. Whichever set of clothing she isn't wearing at the time makes its home in a plain black pack which she carries, that also houses basic supplies such as a healer's kit and travel rations. She also carries with her at all times the Heirloom Blade of her House, the Blade of Ankiri. Its blade is five feet long, and it bears a hilt of blue leather above a golden crossguard, its pommel inlaid with a deep sapphire blue gem that seems infused with an inner light; at its crossguard is a blue flame, the sigil of House Untyrid. This Blade can be wielded only by one of the blood of House Untyrid, and will burn the hands of anyone else who attempts to wield it, before seeking to return to its owner by whatever means possible. It also has the capability to manipulate the wind and, in trained hands, can create storms of cataclysmic proportions; at the great expense of the one who wields it, it can, under extreme conditions, play with the rules of time.
----------------------------------
Allegiances: Isran Empire
Player's online availability : Evenings. (EST)
Registered: Apr 28, 2016 0:02:46 GMT -8
|
Post by Emahra Untyrid on Jul 14, 2016 21:40:29 GMT -8
His affirmative response made her grin, and she seemed immensely pleased. Following his example when Valerian dismounted, Emahra did the same, quickly snagging his horse's reins and leading both of their mounts over to a nearby treat. She looped their reins around a low branch and knotted them securely so neither horse could escape. Then she was striding swiftly after the necromancer, following him into the ruins with her hand resting on the hilt of her Blade, at her left hip as it usually was. She looked up and around her with great interest as they meandered through the columns and walls.. and she couldn't help but laugh when she spotted Rupert on an arch ahead, seeming just as interested as they both were.
"I managed to locate the deed for this property in the archives. It has been unclaimed for quite some time. You would likely be able to purchase it from the state for very little." She hesitated, then approached him, digging something out of her pocket. Upon garnering his attention, she handed over a signet ring; he'd be able to feel the magic that infused the item with ease.
"I ah.. I had the Administrator commission this for you." Though there was no blush to her face, there was a hint of embarrassment to her voice. She briefly met his gaze, until he took the ring, whereupon her amber-gold eyes turned away, and she clasped her hands behind her as she cleared her throat. Turning away from him, she appeared to study the nearest half-fallen wall very intently, seeming greatly interested in the remnants of intricate carvings that had once adorned its surface. This was mostly to distract herself from the awkwardness she felt as she attempted to make a connection with him.
"All individuals who work for Lady Naoki in some capacity have a gem of this ilk. It allows you to access the magical telepathy network simply by being in skin contact with the gem. I asked for the honor of presenting it to you.. because I..." She faltered, her ears twitching vigorously as she struggled with her words.. and her embarrassment. She was a grown woman of one and a half centuries.. she shouldn't be so damned shy! But she'd never felt like this about a man. Squaring her shoulders, she forged ahead, although she was clearly still somewhat uncomfortable.
"..I have come to think.. very highly of you, Valerian. As you know, I will be departing to the Winterlands in a few days, and I do not know how long I will be there - I am to oversee the renovations the area is undergoing, as well as to provide Lady Naoki information on Lord Winter while I am there. I also do not know how often, or even if, I will be able to return to Isra. I was.. I was hoping that you would.. permit me to write you letters while I am gone, and.. perhaps to sometimes contact you via the telepathy network should I wish to hear your voice, which is quite pleasant." For the first time that she could remember since she was just a child, Emahra felt her fair cheeks fill with heat. This was reflected in the sudden flare of brilliant pink coloration in her face that spread upward into her ears. She was utterly mortified by her reaction - and to her own confession, no less. Surely he was going to laugh at her.. let her down gently. She stiffened, preparing for his rejection.
|
|
Valerian Kastimeer
Established
Roleplay posts: 48
Age: 32
Physical Description: Valerian is of average height at 5'10", with the lean build of a climber and fighter. Black hair is kept cut fairly short, with the bangs hanging over his brow but not quite in his eyes and the rest roughly matching that theme. His eyes are black, with iris and pupil indistinguishable from each other. Valerian looks young for his age, often taken to be five or more years younger than he in fact is. Typically on his shoulder, but sometimes in a pocket, is the undead squirrel companion that Valerian has named "Rupert."
Clothes and Equipment: ---------------------------------------------
Valerian is almost constantly clad in a semi-formal blue uniform, complete with award ribbons, a gold command braid, and shoulder and collar rank insignia. The uniform can include a long black coat in inclement weather. It is exceedingly rare for Valerian to be seen without his weapon; a broad-headed spear of variable properties. At times it is standard length for a battle spear, comfortably wielded in two hands and impossible to wield with one; at others it is short enough to use one-handed. Similar to the spear, Valerian is never seen without the white gloves he wears -- those gloves bear some arcane symbol on the back of the hand. Rounding out his equipment is an assortment of pouches in pockets and occasionally on his belt, their contents mostly as mysterious as the symbol on his gloves.
Player's online availability : Varies.
Registered: May 4, 2016 20:26:48 GMT -8
|
Post by Valerian Kastimeer on Jul 15, 2016 22:46:06 GMT -8
Valerian took had of course stopped his inspection to take that ring; he examined it for a few moments, first with his eyes and then with his other sight, as she spoke. The magic was not of his school, but he thought he understood how it worked -- perhaps with more study. Around the time she faltered he was slipping it onto his right ring finger.
At her next words Valerian only smiled faintly, though it did widen to a grin for a split second when she blushed. When he responded his tone was... thoughtful. "I... think I would like that, Emahra. And I thank you for the ring." He paused for a moment, clearly hesitating before he asked, "Truly, you have no idea how long you will be gone?" He seemed... unhappy, with that. Disgruntled, perhaps.
Rupert was out of sight again, likely continuing to explore the ruins from above. Most squirrels would have feared for their lives that exposed to the sky, but Rupert felt no fear.
|
|
Emahra Untyrid
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 276
Age: 158
Physical Description: Like all of the Kehl-Nari Elves, Emahra is tall and of a slender build, standing at 5'10" and covered in the toned muscles that come from a lifetime of training in the way of the sword. Her skin is fair, and she bears the elegant bone structure and pointed ears of the Elvenkind, that lend her a nearly breathtaking beauty. Her hair is long, falling to mid-thigh when unbound, and is a bright, vivid shade of blue, although she habitually wears it bound back into an intricate plait. Her eyes are a rich, liquid amber-gold that that are, much like her expressive facial features, usually filled with whatever she may be thinking or feeling at that moment. While not amply endowed, like many women, she has a respectably-sized bosom, a trim waist, and shapely hips, accentuated by long, graceful legs.
----------------------------------
Clothes and Equipment: Typically, Emahra wears one of two ensembles. The one most commonly seen consists of tight-fitting dark blue breeches that are tucked into a pair of knee-high black leather boots, paired with a black brocade corset, and detached black lace sleeves that cover her arms from just below the shoulder to the base of her fingers, leaving them and her thumbs exposed. All of these items are painstakingly inlaid with runes of protection sewn in magical thread, that make them as strong as armor and spell-resistant. The other outfit is far more casual and lacking in protective enchantments, comprised of a pair of low-slung pants that are tight around the hips and upper thighs, but start to billow out at mid-thigh, to then gather again at the ankle; a sleeveless, midriff-baring top; and a set of comfortable slippers, all made of silky white material that never stains, tears, or wrinkles. These are paired with a sash the same color blue as her hair that she wears wound around her hips. Regardless of her attire, at all times, she wears a slim golden band around her brow that bears a single smooth, teardrop-shaped gem of darkest sapphire; this circlet bears an enchantment similar to the ones inscribed into her normal attire. Whichever set of clothing she isn't wearing at the time makes its home in a plain black pack which she carries, that also houses basic supplies such as a healer's kit and travel rations. She also carries with her at all times the Heirloom Blade of her House, the Blade of Ankiri. Its blade is five feet long, and it bears a hilt of blue leather above a golden crossguard, its pommel inlaid with a deep sapphire blue gem that seems infused with an inner light; at its crossguard is a blue flame, the sigil of House Untyrid. This Blade can be wielded only by one of the blood of House Untyrid, and will burn the hands of anyone else who attempts to wield it, before seeking to return to its owner by whatever means possible. It also has the capability to manipulate the wind and, in trained hands, can create storms of cataclysmic proportions; at the great expense of the one who wields it, it can, under extreme conditions, play with the rules of time.
----------------------------------
Allegiances: Isran Empire
Player's online availability : Evenings. (EST)
Registered: Apr 28, 2016 0:02:46 GMT -8
|
Post by Emahra Untyrid on Jul 16, 2016 0:22:07 GMT -8
Upon hearing his words, the Elf whirled around, her eyes wide in disbelief and a surprised expression on her face. But they were both quickly replaced by happiness, a bright smile upon her lips and a gleam of delight within her metallic hues. He hadn't rejected her! More than that, he seemed displeased by the prospect of her being in the Winterlands for an extended period. Her heart tumbled in her chest, a sensation that was both odd and pleasant at the same time, and she took a hesitant half-step closer to him as she shook her head.
"No, no idea at all. Lady Naoki's instructions were to investigate the land, its people, and Lord Winter - all while making it seem as though I am not investigating anything at all." Her tone was slightly wry and insinuated that Naoki apparently thought very highly of her ability to dissemble. Emahra normally had great difficulty being dishonest in any fashion, but that was something she was going to have to work on, given the nature of her upcoming assignment. Thoughts of that nature faded, however, as she found herself gazing at Valerian, and her expression softened.
"I am pleased that you wish to maintain contact during my absence. It is my hope that I will be able to return to Isra at least occasionally. And if you are not busy, perhaps we could.. spend some time together. I will miss your company and conversation while I am gone." Color lingered in her cheeks as she smiled.. and then she took a few steps away from him, before turning toward the exit of the ruins.
"I will give you some time. Whenever you are ready to leave, I will be waiting." Unless he stopped her, she'd wend her way out of the ruins and back to their horses.
|
|
Valerian Kastimeer
Established
Roleplay posts: 48
Age: 32
Physical Description: Valerian is of average height at 5'10", with the lean build of a climber and fighter. Black hair is kept cut fairly short, with the bangs hanging over his brow but not quite in his eyes and the rest roughly matching that theme. His eyes are black, with iris and pupil indistinguishable from each other. Valerian looks young for his age, often taken to be five or more years younger than he in fact is. Typically on his shoulder, but sometimes in a pocket, is the undead squirrel companion that Valerian has named "Rupert."
Clothes and Equipment: ---------------------------------------------
Valerian is almost constantly clad in a semi-formal blue uniform, complete with award ribbons, a gold command braid, and shoulder and collar rank insignia. The uniform can include a long black coat in inclement weather. It is exceedingly rare for Valerian to be seen without his weapon; a broad-headed spear of variable properties. At times it is standard length for a battle spear, comfortably wielded in two hands and impossible to wield with one; at others it is short enough to use one-handed. Similar to the spear, Valerian is never seen without the white gloves he wears -- those gloves bear some arcane symbol on the back of the hand. Rounding out his equipment is an assortment of pouches in pockets and occasionally on his belt, their contents mostly as mysterious as the symbol on his gloves.
Player's online availability : Varies.
Registered: May 4, 2016 20:26:48 GMT -8
|
Post by Valerian Kastimeer on Jul 18, 2016 20:10:09 GMT -8
Valerian didn't seem to notice what had just transpired... or at least, his expression remained neutral until she turned. When she did he frowned for a moment, apparently unhappy, but didn't press the matter. Instead he walked into the ruins, drawing a rune on a particular wall with his hand. It took a moment, but once completed it would allow him to direct his... workers, remotely.
It was only a moment later that Valerian followed Emahra, giving Rupert a dirty look as the squirrel returned to his shoulder. Rupert acted oblivious, but refused to look at Valerian. After they reached the horses, Valerian spoke -- his tone hesitant, oddly. "I want you to know, Emahra, that I am... fond of you. I would not like for anything to happen to you while you were away."
And with that, he clambered up onto the horse and made ready to follow Ema.
<exit, presumably>
|
|
Emahra Untyrid
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 276
Age: 158
Physical Description: Like all of the Kehl-Nari Elves, Emahra is tall and of a slender build, standing at 5'10" and covered in the toned muscles that come from a lifetime of training in the way of the sword. Her skin is fair, and she bears the elegant bone structure and pointed ears of the Elvenkind, that lend her a nearly breathtaking beauty. Her hair is long, falling to mid-thigh when unbound, and is a bright, vivid shade of blue, although she habitually wears it bound back into an intricate plait. Her eyes are a rich, liquid amber-gold that that are, much like her expressive facial features, usually filled with whatever she may be thinking or feeling at that moment. While not amply endowed, like many women, she has a respectably-sized bosom, a trim waist, and shapely hips, accentuated by long, graceful legs.
----------------------------------
Clothes and Equipment: Typically, Emahra wears one of two ensembles. The one most commonly seen consists of tight-fitting dark blue breeches that are tucked into a pair of knee-high black leather boots, paired with a black brocade corset, and detached black lace sleeves that cover her arms from just below the shoulder to the base of her fingers, leaving them and her thumbs exposed. All of these items are painstakingly inlaid with runes of protection sewn in magical thread, that make them as strong as armor and spell-resistant. The other outfit is far more casual and lacking in protective enchantments, comprised of a pair of low-slung pants that are tight around the hips and upper thighs, but start to billow out at mid-thigh, to then gather again at the ankle; a sleeveless, midriff-baring top; and a set of comfortable slippers, all made of silky white material that never stains, tears, or wrinkles. These are paired with a sash the same color blue as her hair that she wears wound around her hips. Regardless of her attire, at all times, she wears a slim golden band around her brow that bears a single smooth, teardrop-shaped gem of darkest sapphire; this circlet bears an enchantment similar to the ones inscribed into her normal attire. Whichever set of clothing she isn't wearing at the time makes its home in a plain black pack which she carries, that also houses basic supplies such as a healer's kit and travel rations. She also carries with her at all times the Heirloom Blade of her House, the Blade of Ankiri. Its blade is five feet long, and it bears a hilt of blue leather above a golden crossguard, its pommel inlaid with a deep sapphire blue gem that seems infused with an inner light; at its crossguard is a blue flame, the sigil of House Untyrid. This Blade can be wielded only by one of the blood of House Untyrid, and will burn the hands of anyone else who attempts to wield it, before seeking to return to its owner by whatever means possible. It also has the capability to manipulate the wind and, in trained hands, can create storms of cataclysmic proportions; at the great expense of the one who wields it, it can, under extreme conditions, play with the rules of time.
----------------------------------
Allegiances: Isran Empire
Player's online availability : Evenings. (EST)
Registered: Apr 28, 2016 0:02:46 GMT -8
|
Post by Emahra Untyrid on Jul 18, 2016 20:24:25 GMT -8
Emahra turned to look at him as he joined her, then untied their horses and tossed his reins to him. She was on the verge of mounting up when he spoke, and she blinked over at him, then her eyes widened in surprise. He.. well then. The words inspired a resurgence of the color in her face, and she found herself grinning as she pulled herself up onto the saddle, settling in easily before she cleared her throat and replied.
"..I am also fond of you, Valerian. Though I am sure I will be fine. What could possibly happen?" Flashing him a smile, she gently heeled the mare into motion and led the way back toward Isra.
<Exit>
|
|
Rodger Taren
Established
Roleplay posts: 10
Age: 23
Clothes and Equipment: 1 Hound dog
1 basket-hilted rapier
Registered: Jul 24, 2016 18:28:57 GMT -8
|
Post by Rodger Taren on Jul 25, 2016 16:46:56 GMT -8
[Enter from eastern bridges]
A nice pleasant day, on a nice pleasant roadway. Rodger wasn't going anywhere in a hurry apparently, his stride had a lazy quality to it as his head would turn in slow rotation to look from one side of the road to another. His left hand rested against his rapier's pommel as if to use it for a hand rest.
Off a few feet ahead and to the left side of Rodger roamed a red hound somewhere between that fifty to sixty pound rage. It was lean with bristly fur and a long stick tail. It had made its way to the grass along the edge of the path, its nose working in a zig zag pattern through the soil as it followed some scent. Could be a grasshopper, a bit of junk someone threw out, or a rabbit. Didn't matter to the dog so long as it found something.
Rodger's free hand moved just a bit now and then, just enough for the fingers to slowly brush against the air. "You know, some dogs actually hunt to feed their owners." offered to Jasper in a conversational manner. "You know, instead of leaving a nice comfortable city for the dog to hunt for itself. I mean you could sometimes at least share?"
Jasper of cours was completely ignoring him, it had other matters on its mind such as whatever it was smelling.
"Or, you coud maybe catch something more than say once a week? Yesteray you found a hat. Hat's aren't any good, well that one wasn't. It had a hole in it the size of my fist. Can't you find something useful? Like a rabbit or two? Give me one?"
|
|
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
|
Post by Fenrir Skargard on Jul 25, 2016 17:39:27 GMT -8
Fenrir could hear the boy and his dog speaking from a long way off, the side road a shortcut to the Black Tower he had been headed towards all day. He was starting to think that the damnable gnome had mislead him deliberately, the tower not seeming to get any closer all day. His path was going to take him right by the pair, and so he tried to keep to himself, but the boy's insistence about the dog hunting caught his attention, Fenrir being rather familiar with the concept, so his path meandered closer until he was within normal talking distance of the boy and his dog.
"The dog will never learn to hunt if you don't teach it that it is supposed to be hunting, but if it fetching already it has the right instincts."
|
|
Rodger Taren
Established
Roleplay posts: 10
Age: 23
Clothes and Equipment: 1 Hound dog
1 basket-hilted rapier
Registered: Jul 24, 2016 18:28:57 GMT -8
|
Post by Rodger Taren on Jul 25, 2016 19:55:41 GMT -8
When the man speaks up Rodger looks back with a bit of surprise on his face, muttering softly, “You could have warned me?”
The hound who is still ranging farther off on his own does glance back at the two talking, however there is little interest in it. He turns his head back to the grass, body tensing a bit as the head lowers and the snuffing grows fiercer in a spot. A bit of dirt and clump of grass is kicked up as he uses just one paw to dig at the spot a bit.
“You know about dogs mister?” Stopping his forward stride now to actually look back at who he’s speaking too. It’s only a second later a bit of sick amusement comes to his expression considering the person he’s speaking with. Glancing from the werewolf and over to where Jasper’s digging he makes a high pitched whistle, “Hey, come on ya gopher, get over here.”
Jasper’s head pops up from the grass, and indeed there is a bit of dirt on that nose. Those hound eyes consider the two for a moment, the head starts to lower to the ground then raises up again considering the matter. Finally the dog starts to head over.
“Finally.”
The dog heads over to Fenrir, sniffing at that armored werewolf, tail swaying side to side enjoying the new scents.
“Really?” Rodger rolls his eyes, glancing Fenrir, “I mean, he’s great for company, but he’s got his own mind about what to do when we get out here.”
|
|
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
|
Post by Fenrir Skargard on Jul 26, 2016 4:17:44 GMT -8
He patted the dog on his head with his ungauntleted paw, scratching behind his ears as he replied to the boy.
"Well, he is your companion, and at some point he learned that what he is doing was alright with you. I am not advocating treating him harshly mind you, but a bit of discipline never hurt anyone."
His voice was rough, but the tone was strangely refined for such a large beast, suggesting a higher education that had not come from the wild. His posture would indicate relaxation to the dog, that while he was certainly not submissive, he was at ease, and intended no threat.
|
|
Rodger Taren
Established
Roleplay posts: 10
Age: 23
Clothes and Equipment: 1 Hound dog
1 basket-hilted rapier
Registered: Jul 24, 2016 18:28:57 GMT -8
|
Post by Rodger Taren on Jul 26, 2016 15:26:43 GMT -8
Watches the hound for a bit as it looks quite happy with the new attention, jaw opening for that tongue to stick out a bit with happy sighs. That lasted for a few seconds before its nose started quivering, head tilting up to the sky. Yup, something new had his attention. At least he wasn't quite ready to walk off yet.
"I'm Rodger," a wave of his hand to the dog, "and that's Jasper. He is a good dog honestly." a bit of defense given way in regards to the dog finally. "Just got a rather independent nature to him. It *would* be nice admittedly if he put in some work. Imagine worst thing I could really do to him is not let him roam. I never did try to teach him much of anything. Just company for the road. Even when he runs off, he always comes back, eventually."
|
|
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
|
Post by Fenrir Skargard on Jul 27, 2016 4:23:02 GMT -8
"Fenrir."
He watched the boy and the dog, their companionship was evident in their behavior, and as long as they were friends the dog was not likely to obey many commands, especially ones that the boy himself did not know.
"Do you know how to hunt? Perhaps if he went hunting with you he would learn."
|
|
Rodger Taren
Established
Roleplay posts: 10
Age: 23
Clothes and Equipment: 1 Hound dog
1 basket-hilted rapier
Registered: Jul 24, 2016 18:28:57 GMT -8
|
Post by Rodger Taren on Jul 27, 2016 18:08:59 GMT -8
Jasper wuffs softly towards the grass, hound ears pricking as much as the floppy things can manage to tilt forward.
"Well, sort of. I've shot a bow before and sometimes hit a target, but I don't have a bow to hunt with." Fingers tightening for a moment then relaxing around the pommel of the sword, "I can set snares, and more obvious trails I can follow but over all I'm nothing special in hunting."
Neither of the two are doing anything a dog like Jasper could potentially find interesting and he so he walks back off into the grass, another huff sound given, those ears pushed forward.
|
|
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
|
Post by Fenrir Skargard on Jul 28, 2016 1:47:14 GMT -8
"Well how can you expect the dog to know to do something you can't do? Hunting isn't about setting traps or shooting a bow. It is about tracking and chasing your prey, for days if need be to feed yourself."
He sounds wistful as he speaks, hunting being a large part of his and his people's culture, and by extension their lives. It was in fact a sacred activity to them, something that they used to ritualize before the hard times came.
"You should learn to hunt, and bring the dog. He will pick up on it, it is in his blood after all."
|
|
Rodger Taren
Established
Roleplay posts: 10
Age: 23
Clothes and Equipment: 1 Hound dog
1 basket-hilted rapier
Registered: Jul 24, 2016 18:28:57 GMT -8
|
Post by Rodger Taren on Jul 28, 2016 15:59:56 GMT -8
Chasing his prey for days? There was no rabbit or deer out there worth that much of his time and energy. Nor he had he imagined others going to that extent, so apparently Fenrir was imagining something other type of hunt? Well, for that matter, would this guy really ever settle for a rabbi?
"What sort of things do you hunt that take days to bring down?" Rodger imagined only one way to find out, besides, by the wolf-man's tone he might enjoy talking about some hunts?
A momentary glimpse was given to watching Jasper disappearing further into the grass but his attention shifted back to Fenrir quick enough. Jasper would go and find some random object to come back with. Whether he shared it or not, and how useful it might be were the only questions.
|
|
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
|
Post by Fenrir Skargard on Jul 31, 2016 10:02:30 GMT -8
"Whatever it takes. Large boar, herds of deer, bears, people who stray onto your territory, anything can take days to ensure the hunt is executed at the proper moment. That you are gaining the most amount of food with the least amount of risk to the hunters."
He watched the dog run off, a smile creasing his muzzle at the dog's seemingly carefree attitude.
|
|