Eira Whittle
Committed
Roleplay posts: 93 
Age: 22
Physical Description: Eira is a willowy, pale, delicate young lady who seems to be more hair than woman. Her eyes are a deep shade of purple, almost black. She wears a little makeup, mostly to color her lips, but only because she's very fond of purple.
Clothes and Equipment: The young woman usually wears a variety of skirts and blouses except when she's gardening, where the skirts are replaced with breeches and thick boots.
The medicine woman has an intense plethora of equipment, most of which doesn't leave the house. The most prominent and noteworthy of them are the Strings of Fate, a magical item given to her by her mother. Without careful preparation, the Strings of Fate are worthless, but with enough time it allows her to weave obstacles that would be devastating to her enemies by linking butterfly effects around the area that it may touch, causing things like a loose pebble to become a landslide, or letting a stray wind carry poisonous spores into someone's airways.
The Strings of Fate have unlimited applications, but only the trickest ones are the most effective.
Registered: Jan 13, 2018 21:19:47 GMT -8
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Post by Eira Whittle on Feb 20, 2018 20:33:17 GMT -8
Eira was also left to the fate of the dust that clouded the room. She doubled over from sneezes, a hand placed firmly over her mouth. She grabbed her shirt and drew it over her nose, then set out to open the door, since Amairgen had the window. When the dust settled enough that she could at least see the kitchen, she sighed.
And I thought I was making some progress, she thought with a sigh. She turned to face the scout as she walked back in and gazed at the windowsill and smiled. Those had not been there before.
"Oh, well that's quite nice," she said, placing her hands delicately beneath the flower petals. "I was so hoping to see what these would look like when they bloom. I don't think I'm familiar with them yet. Did you do this?" she asked, looking up at Amairgen. "That's some interesting talent you have there."
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Amairgen Llyr
Established
Roleplay posts: 38 
Age: 28
Physical Description: While other druids may abstain from the use of razors or soap to bring them closer to nature, that is not the style of Amairgen Llyr. His blond facial hair is shaved except for a thick mustache perched upon his full lips. He wears his blond hair short on the sides and long on the top, slicking it back when he had supplies, otherwise it naturally parts on the left side of his head. His bright green eyes contrast with the natural green of the forest.
Amairgen is tall at 6’ 5”, and lithely built, which hides his true strength. His skin is weathered from his life in the outdoors, but usually pale from spending most his time in the forest. His arms and hands are scarred from a variety of encounters with wild animals that turned out to be not so friendly.
________________________________
Clothes and Equipment: Armairgen is clothed to blend in with the forest, as his color pallete is mostly browns and greens. He wears a brown bycocket on his head, with a hawk’s feather pinned to the left side with a badge in the shape of a poppy flower.
He wears a thick cotton button up shirt with short sleeves, forest green in color. His shorts are of the same fabric, held up with a thick brown leather belt. His leather boots come to his ankles, exposing the thick green woolen socks that nearly come to his knees, which are held in their place by twine.
He carries a canvas pack on his shoulders, which carries most of his necessary supplies. Rope, soap, a comb, a needle and thread, whet stones, flints, double baked bread, a small Dutch oven for cooking, a set of cutlery, extra socks and underwear all find a place in the canvas, with a bedroll on the outside.
In his belt he carries a hunting knife, which he keeps sharp, and a round canteen to carry water. A pocket knife in always in his breast pocket. He keeps a walking stick nearly as tall as himself in hand, made of beechwood, and with a small leather wrapping emblazoned with runes.
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Registered: Dec 28, 2017 15:08:54 GMT -8
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Post by Amairgen Llyr on Feb 20, 2018 21:36:27 GMT -8
Amairgen wasn't quite sure what he was able to do to plants counted as a talent. A talent tended to be something one was naturally able to do well, and for him, that was sketching. He had no inclinations toward magic until his crossover from child to teenager, and then he was sent into the grove for a solid week, gaining guidance on what he would eventually become. Some could talk to animals, others could shift into creatures, and others like him could manipulate plants.
He nodded to Eira, who he then realized was standing uncomfortably close to him, since the window wasn't all that big, and he hadn't moved yet, "Aye, I accelerated their growth."
He muttered under his breath again, and waved his fingers, causing another bloom, this one splotched with deep red blotches on white petals. He plucked this one, and not quite sure why, softly offered it to her.
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Eira Whittle
Committed
Roleplay posts: 93
Age: 22
Physical Description: Eira is a willowy, pale, delicate young lady who seems to be more hair than woman. Her eyes are a deep shade of purple, almost black. She wears a little makeup, mostly to color her lips, but only because she's very fond of purple.
Clothes and Equipment: The young woman usually wears a variety of skirts and blouses except when she's gardening, where the skirts are replaced with breeches and thick boots.
The medicine woman has an intense plethora of equipment, most of which doesn't leave the house. The most prominent and noteworthy of them are the Strings of Fate, a magical item given to her by her mother. Without careful preparation, the Strings of Fate are worthless, but with enough time it allows her to weave obstacles that would be devastating to her enemies by linking butterfly effects around the area that it may touch, causing things like a loose pebble to become a landslide, or letting a stray wind carry poisonous spores into someone's airways.
The Strings of Fate have unlimited applications, but only the trickest ones are the most effective.
Registered: Jan 13, 2018 21:19:47 GMT -8
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Post by Eira Whittle on Feb 21, 2018 21:02:37 GMT -8
The witch raised a hand to take it, smiling gently at the man. "Oh, my. That one came out quite beautiful. Thank you," she said, turning the flower over in her fingers. She gave it a small whiff before taking a look around the room, noting its re-dusted state. "I'll find a vase to place this in, then we can start... cleaning up again." She let a laugh escape her before scurrying off, attempting to shift through the amazing amount of junk around the house.
Eventually, the woman found a vase, or something close enough to it, and placed the flower within it. She frowned and crossed her arms. "We still need water... but Sangrei still isn't here! I suppose at least fixing the well will have to do for now. What do you think, Amairgen?"
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Amairgen Llyr
Established
Roleplay posts: 38
Age: 28
Physical Description: While other druids may abstain from the use of razors or soap to bring them closer to nature, that is not the style of Amairgen Llyr. His blond facial hair is shaved except for a thick mustache perched upon his full lips. He wears his blond hair short on the sides and long on the top, slicking it back when he had supplies, otherwise it naturally parts on the left side of his head. His bright green eyes contrast with the natural green of the forest.
Amairgen is tall at 6’ 5”, and lithely built, which hides his true strength. His skin is weathered from his life in the outdoors, but usually pale from spending most his time in the forest. His arms and hands are scarred from a variety of encounters with wild animals that turned out to be not so friendly.
________________________________
Clothes and Equipment: Armairgen is clothed to blend in with the forest, as his color pallete is mostly browns and greens. He wears a brown bycocket on his head, with a hawk’s feather pinned to the left side with a badge in the shape of a poppy flower.
He wears a thick cotton button up shirt with short sleeves, forest green in color. His shorts are of the same fabric, held up with a thick brown leather belt. His leather boots come to his ankles, exposing the thick green woolen socks that nearly come to his knees, which are held in their place by twine.
He carries a canvas pack on his shoulders, which carries most of his necessary supplies. Rope, soap, a comb, a needle and thread, whet stones, flints, double baked bread, a small Dutch oven for cooking, a set of cutlery, extra socks and underwear all find a place in the canvas, with a bedroll on the outside.
In his belt he carries a hunting knife, which he keeps sharp, and a round canteen to carry water. A pocket knife in always in his breast pocket. He keeps a walking stick nearly as tall as himself in hand, made of beechwood, and with a small leather wrapping emblazoned with runes.
__________________________________
Registered: Dec 28, 2017 15:08:54 GMT -8
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Post by Amairgen Llyr on Feb 23, 2018 9:46:44 GMT -8
"Your welcome," Amairgen responded softly in his deep voice, watching Eira as she searched the house for a vase for the flower.
Clyde decided to climb out of his hiding spot from under the table, and followed Eira in her search. When she set the vase with the flower on the table, Clyde jumped up as well, and rubbed his face against it, sending the vase towards the ground. Amairgen lunged toward the falling vase, falling on the ground, but saving the vase from becoming hundreds of shards. He got up, brushing himself off, and set the vase back on the table, grabbing Clyde with the other hand.
Amairgen turned to Eira with Clyde, with an annoyed look on his face, still in hand, "Let's get started on that. Definitely need water to make this into a home."
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Eira Whittle
Committed
Roleplay posts: 93
Age: 22
Physical Description: Eira is a willowy, pale, delicate young lady who seems to be more hair than woman. Her eyes are a deep shade of purple, almost black. She wears a little makeup, mostly to color her lips, but only because she's very fond of purple.
Clothes and Equipment: The young woman usually wears a variety of skirts and blouses except when she's gardening, where the skirts are replaced with breeches and thick boots.
The medicine woman has an intense plethora of equipment, most of which doesn't leave the house. The most prominent and noteworthy of them are the Strings of Fate, a magical item given to her by her mother. Without careful preparation, the Strings of Fate are worthless, but with enough time it allows her to weave obstacles that would be devastating to her enemies by linking butterfly effects around the area that it may touch, causing things like a loose pebble to become a landslide, or letting a stray wind carry poisonous spores into someone's airways.
The Strings of Fate have unlimited applications, but only the trickest ones are the most effective.
Registered: Jan 13, 2018 21:19:47 GMT -8
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Post by Eira Whittle on Feb 28, 2018 20:06:14 GMT -8
The woman couldn't help but giggle. "Good catch. Those reflexes are going to serve you well today," said Eira, making her way outside. She knocked the dust off her clothes and shook it from her hair, creating a cloud that followed her as she walked. Once she came to the well, tossing a glance over her shoulder to make sure Amairgen had followed. Part of the well had collapsed on the side, and the rocks had fallen inward. "It's created a leak, which is unfortunate. Getting those rocks out will be no easy task, even with a bit of magic. After that we'll have to repair it."
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Amairgen Llyr
Established
Roleplay posts: 38
Age: 28
Physical Description: While other druids may abstain from the use of razors or soap to bring them closer to nature, that is not the style of Amairgen Llyr. His blond facial hair is shaved except for a thick mustache perched upon his full lips. He wears his blond hair short on the sides and long on the top, slicking it back when he had supplies, otherwise it naturally parts on the left side of his head. His bright green eyes contrast with the natural green of the forest.
Amairgen is tall at 6’ 5”, and lithely built, which hides his true strength. His skin is weathered from his life in the outdoors, but usually pale from spending most his time in the forest. His arms and hands are scarred from a variety of encounters with wild animals that turned out to be not so friendly.
________________________________
Clothes and Equipment: Armairgen is clothed to blend in with the forest, as his color pallete is mostly browns and greens. He wears a brown bycocket on his head, with a hawk’s feather pinned to the left side with a badge in the shape of a poppy flower.
He wears a thick cotton button up shirt with short sleeves, forest green in color. His shorts are of the same fabric, held up with a thick brown leather belt. His leather boots come to his ankles, exposing the thick green woolen socks that nearly come to his knees, which are held in their place by twine.
He carries a canvas pack on his shoulders, which carries most of his necessary supplies. Rope, soap, a comb, a needle and thread, whet stones, flints, double baked bread, a small Dutch oven for cooking, a set of cutlery, extra socks and underwear all find a place in the canvas, with a bedroll on the outside.
In his belt he carries a hunting knife, which he keeps sharp, and a round canteen to carry water. A pocket knife in always in his breast pocket. He keeps a walking stick nearly as tall as himself in hand, made of beechwood, and with a small leather wrapping emblazoned with runes.
__________________________________
Registered: Dec 28, 2017 15:08:54 GMT -8
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Post by Amairgen Llyr on Feb 28, 2018 20:21:34 GMT -8
Amairgen blushed slightly at Eira's giggle, not quite sure if she was giggling at him, or at the situation. He set Clyde back on the ground as they walked outside, grabbing his pack and staff on the way out. He didn't bother slinging it on his back, seeing that the well wasn't too far from the cottage. Clyde sat for a few seconds, licking his front right paw, before deciding to see what the silly humans were looking at, deciding to perch on the wall of the well.
Amairgen stood next to Eira, looking down into the dark chasm. To figure out its depth, he grabbed a small rock from the ground, and dropped it down, hearing it bounce against the side a few times, before clacking and settling on the dry rocks below. Deciding to get a better look at the size of the hole, Amairgen set down his pack, and dug around in it to before producing his rope and leather gloves. He quickly tied a two-half hitches to one of the beams of the roof, and looped it around his belt.
Testing the strength of the knot by giving it a few hard tugs, he sat on the wall of the well, and pulled on his gloves. He looked over to Eira, and said, "This will be fun. Can you provide me a light for when I reach the bottom?" With that, he kicked his legs over the inside of the well, and started repelling down the inside of the well.
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Eira Whittle
Committed
Roleplay posts: 93
Age: 22
Physical Description: Eira is a willowy, pale, delicate young lady who seems to be more hair than woman. Her eyes are a deep shade of purple, almost black. She wears a little makeup, mostly to color her lips, but only because she's very fond of purple.
Clothes and Equipment: The young woman usually wears a variety of skirts and blouses except when she's gardening, where the skirts are replaced with breeches and thick boots.
The medicine woman has an intense plethora of equipment, most of which doesn't leave the house. The most prominent and noteworthy of them are the Strings of Fate, a magical item given to her by her mother. Without careful preparation, the Strings of Fate are worthless, but with enough time it allows her to weave obstacles that would be devastating to her enemies by linking butterfly effects around the area that it may touch, causing things like a loose pebble to become a landslide, or letting a stray wind carry poisonous spores into someone's airways.
The Strings of Fate have unlimited applications, but only the trickest ones are the most effective.
Registered: Jan 13, 2018 21:19:47 GMT -8
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Post by Eira Whittle on Mar 5, 2018 15:54:40 GMT -8
“I can do that and more. Give me one moment!” she said before disappearing into the cottage. Not a minute went by before the witch scuttled out, holding an eggshell in her palm. She held it to her lips and whispered it so softly that only the movement in her cheeks betrayed her action. With an audible crunch she snapped her palm shut, breaking the eggshell with it. A torrent of lights spilled from the spaces between her fingers, washing over Eira like hundreds of fireflies glimmering after dawn.
The woman’s form collapsed all at once, clothes dropping to the ground. Soon after, something began to worm out from beneath the shirt, then, with the suddenness of an arrow, torpedoed from one of the sleeves.
A blur was all one could see at first as the creature flew around, its wings beating so fast it sent a hum through the air. When at last it stopped, hovering just a few inches in front of Amairgen, he would observe its incredibly small size, barely two inches in height, with a tail four times as long. At the end of it there was a bauble with a small flame inside, shaped exactly like a small lantern. It gave off quite a bit of light for such a small object.
It looked back at Amirgen with violet eyes- Eira’s eyes- with every bit of understanding they had shown before. With a tweet, the creature zipped down into the well, pausing to see if the man was going to follow.
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Amairgen Llyr
Established
Roleplay posts: 38
Age: 28
Physical Description: While other druids may abstain from the use of razors or soap to bring them closer to nature, that is not the style of Amairgen Llyr. His blond facial hair is shaved except for a thick mustache perched upon his full lips. He wears his blond hair short on the sides and long on the top, slicking it back when he had supplies, otherwise it naturally parts on the left side of his head. His bright green eyes contrast with the natural green of the forest.
Amairgen is tall at 6’ 5”, and lithely built, which hides his true strength. His skin is weathered from his life in the outdoors, but usually pale from spending most his time in the forest. His arms and hands are scarred from a variety of encounters with wild animals that turned out to be not so friendly.
________________________________
Clothes and Equipment: Armairgen is clothed to blend in with the forest, as his color pallete is mostly browns and greens. He wears a brown bycocket on his head, with a hawk’s feather pinned to the left side with a badge in the shape of a poppy flower.
He wears a thick cotton button up shirt with short sleeves, forest green in color. His shorts are of the same fabric, held up with a thick brown leather belt. His leather boots come to his ankles, exposing the thick green woolen socks that nearly come to his knees, which are held in their place by twine.
He carries a canvas pack on his shoulders, which carries most of his necessary supplies. Rope, soap, a comb, a needle and thread, whet stones, flints, double baked bread, a small Dutch oven for cooking, a set of cutlery, extra socks and underwear all find a place in the canvas, with a bedroll on the outside.
In his belt he carries a hunting knife, which he keeps sharp, and a round canteen to carry water. A pocket knife in always in his breast pocket. He keeps a walking stick nearly as tall as himself in hand, made of beechwood, and with a small leather wrapping emblazoned with runes.
__________________________________
Registered: Dec 28, 2017 15:08:54 GMT -8
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Post by Amairgen Llyr on Mar 7, 2018 18:51:40 GMT -8
Amairgen climbed slowly and deliberately as he descended down. Though the well had gone dry, the stones were still slick with the moistness from the air, or covered in moss, making gripping them with his hands difficult to say the least. And that wasn't including the poor lighting situation, with only the barest of glimmers helping guide his movements.
He gave the small bird the quickest of glances, not wanting to divert too much attention from his precarious descent. The light was a welcome addition... that was, until it fluttered to the bottom of the well, leaving him still about halfway down. Not wanting to waste energy or focus by complaining, he went back to balancing his weight from one foot to the next, on stones that barely jutted out enough for him to gain a toehold.
He landed at the bottom with a leap from a few feet above, landing with a clang because of his boots. He could then turn his attention to his new source of light. The deep purple irises seemed to dance with the glint of the lantern light. Sensing that maybe Eira didn't let on all her magical abilities, he whistled a small tune to the fluttering bird. The tune would be nothingness to a human, but to the little bird, it would ask if it was in fact Eira.
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Eira Whittle
Committed
Roleplay posts: 93
Age: 22
Physical Description: Eira is a willowy, pale, delicate young lady who seems to be more hair than woman. Her eyes are a deep shade of purple, almost black. She wears a little makeup, mostly to color her lips, but only because she's very fond of purple.
Clothes and Equipment: The young woman usually wears a variety of skirts and blouses except when she's gardening, where the skirts are replaced with breeches and thick boots.
The medicine woman has an intense plethora of equipment, most of which doesn't leave the house. The most prominent and noteworthy of them are the Strings of Fate, a magical item given to her by her mother. Without careful preparation, the Strings of Fate are worthless, but with enough time it allows her to weave obstacles that would be devastating to her enemies by linking butterfly effects around the area that it may touch, causing things like a loose pebble to become a landslide, or letting a stray wind carry poisonous spores into someone's airways.
The Strings of Fate have unlimited applications, but only the trickest ones are the most effective.
Registered: Jan 13, 2018 21:19:47 GMT -8
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Post by Eira Whittle on Mar 9, 2018 11:47:58 GMT -8
The bird whistled back, answering with a rather energetic confirmation. Buzzing through the air, she turned away from him and shined a light onto the hole in the well.
It was quite a bit larger than Eira had expected, or perhaps it just looked larger because she was so small. It was half Amairgen's height, perhaps twice as wide, leading down into an even deeper, darker area beyond. The bird chirped at Amairgen, both concerned and incredibly curious.
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Amairgen Llyr
Established
Roleplay posts: 38
Age: 28
Physical Description: While other druids may abstain from the use of razors or soap to bring them closer to nature, that is not the style of Amairgen Llyr. His blond facial hair is shaved except for a thick mustache perched upon his full lips. He wears his blond hair short on the sides and long on the top, slicking it back when he had supplies, otherwise it naturally parts on the left side of his head. His bright green eyes contrast with the natural green of the forest.
Amairgen is tall at 6’ 5”, and lithely built, which hides his true strength. His skin is weathered from his life in the outdoors, but usually pale from spending most his time in the forest. His arms and hands are scarred from a variety of encounters with wild animals that turned out to be not so friendly.
________________________________
Clothes and Equipment: Armairgen is clothed to blend in with the forest, as his color pallete is mostly browns and greens. He wears a brown bycocket on his head, with a hawk’s feather pinned to the left side with a badge in the shape of a poppy flower.
He wears a thick cotton button up shirt with short sleeves, forest green in color. His shorts are of the same fabric, held up with a thick brown leather belt. His leather boots come to his ankles, exposing the thick green woolen socks that nearly come to his knees, which are held in their place by twine.
He carries a canvas pack on his shoulders, which carries most of his necessary supplies. Rope, soap, a comb, a needle and thread, whet stones, flints, double baked bread, a small Dutch oven for cooking, a set of cutlery, extra socks and underwear all find a place in the canvas, with a bedroll on the outside.
In his belt he carries a hunting knife, which he keeps sharp, and a round canteen to carry water. A pocket knife in always in his breast pocket. He keeps a walking stick nearly as tall as himself in hand, made of beechwood, and with a small leather wrapping emblazoned with runes.
__________________________________
Registered: Dec 28, 2017 15:08:54 GMT -8
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Post by Amairgen Llyr on Mar 10, 2018 19:49:49 GMT -8
Amairgen chuckled slightly at the energy that bird Eira responded with. Thinking about it as he turned towards the hole that she flew towards, a fluttering, highly energetic bird seemed to suit Eira's personality. He whistled the thought to Eira, as he stood next to her darting form.
He peered down the hole with Eira, squinting his eyes to try and see how deep it was. The bottom of the hole was about to mid thigh on him, and barely extended above his head. It was pretty sizable, making Amairgen curious about what had caused the hole to become so big in the first place. Not quite able to make out how the rocks were punched out of place, Amairgen balanced his hand on the side of the hole, and leaned forward to try and see anything on the other side, most of his weight being supported by his hand.
Clyde had noticed he was alone on the surface, after finishing checking his paws for any stray dirt that might've settled in between the pink pads. Not quite happy with his spot, he chirped out, to see if his companion would hear him. Not hearing a response, he leaped to the side of the well, and let loose a meow down the hole.
Hearing the echo of a distraught Clyde, Amairgen whistled to the Owlcat, letting him know where he was.
Deciding to see what had his companion... and possible snack later, Clyde debated as he spotted the little bird, were looking at, he prepared himself to launch, squatting down with his legs, wiggling his body back and forth to gather his power, and spreading his wings. With a great push from the stone, he darted towards his companion, landing heavily on his pack.
The unexpected force of the hard landing, and the sudden shift of balance had Amairgen wheeling, his eyes open wide with surprise. He attempted to grab onto the other side of the hole with his hand, to no avail, simply turning around. Finding himself falling backward, he again attempted a grasp, only to tilt over the edge of the hole, "SHHHIIIIIII...!" His swear faded as he fell deeper into the dark abyss.
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Eira Whittle
Committed
Roleplay posts: 93
Age: 22
Physical Description: Eira is a willowy, pale, delicate young lady who seems to be more hair than woman. Her eyes are a deep shade of purple, almost black. She wears a little makeup, mostly to color her lips, but only because she's very fond of purple.
Clothes and Equipment: The young woman usually wears a variety of skirts and blouses except when she's gardening, where the skirts are replaced with breeches and thick boots.
The medicine woman has an intense plethora of equipment, most of which doesn't leave the house. The most prominent and noteworthy of them are the Strings of Fate, a magical item given to her by her mother. Without careful preparation, the Strings of Fate are worthless, but with enough time it allows her to weave obstacles that would be devastating to her enemies by linking butterfly effects around the area that it may touch, causing things like a loose pebble to become a landslide, or letting a stray wind carry poisonous spores into someone's airways.
The Strings of Fate have unlimited applications, but only the trickest ones are the most effective.
Registered: Jan 13, 2018 21:19:47 GMT -8
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Post by Eira Whittle on Mar 23, 2018 16:30:41 GMT -8
The little bird trilled in panic when Clyde flew down and pushed Amairgen down the well. In the blink of an eye, Eira flew up to her fallen clothes above, snatched the fisheye amulet that Clyde had earlier stolen, and zoomed down toward Amairgen as he fell. The amulet shimmered brightly with the color of the deep seas, enveloping both Amairgen and Eira as they fell... and then disappeared.
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Amairgen Llyr
Established
Roleplay posts: 38
Age: 28
Physical Description: While other druids may abstain from the use of razors or soap to bring them closer to nature, that is not the style of Amairgen Llyr. His blond facial hair is shaved except for a thick mustache perched upon his full lips. He wears his blond hair short on the sides and long on the top, slicking it back when he had supplies, otherwise it naturally parts on the left side of his head. His bright green eyes contrast with the natural green of the forest.
Amairgen is tall at 6’ 5”, and lithely built, which hides his true strength. His skin is weathered from his life in the outdoors, but usually pale from spending most his time in the forest. His arms and hands are scarred from a variety of encounters with wild animals that turned out to be not so friendly.
________________________________
Clothes and Equipment: Armairgen is clothed to blend in with the forest, as his color pallete is mostly browns and greens. He wears a brown bycocket on his head, with a hawk’s feather pinned to the left side with a badge in the shape of a poppy flower.
He wears a thick cotton button up shirt with short sleeves, forest green in color. His shorts are of the same fabric, held up with a thick brown leather belt. His leather boots come to his ankles, exposing the thick green woolen socks that nearly come to his knees, which are held in their place by twine.
He carries a canvas pack on his shoulders, which carries most of his necessary supplies. Rope, soap, a comb, a needle and thread, whet stones, flints, double baked bread, a small Dutch oven for cooking, a set of cutlery, extra socks and underwear all find a place in the canvas, with a bedroll on the outside.
In his belt he carries a hunting knife, which he keeps sharp, and a round canteen to carry water. A pocket knife in always in his breast pocket. He keeps a walking stick nearly as tall as himself in hand, made of beechwood, and with a small leather wrapping emblazoned with runes.
__________________________________
Registered: Dec 28, 2017 15:08:54 GMT -8
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Post by Amairgen Llyr on Apr 14, 2018 19:40:47 GMT -8
A loud cacophony of sneezing erupted from second story of the cottage, followed by even more sneezing. Clyde, the owlcat, didn't even bother looking at the source of the sneezing, from his perch next to the open window. He was more interested in a minute speck of dust caught in his paw, that he nipped at with his beak, before inspecting again to see if it was there, only to be confounded and start pecking at it again.
He was startled when the face of the sneezing man suddenly appeared, with a cloud of dust surrounding him, causing him to momentarily lose his balance and fall off the roof with a rather annoyed chirp. He opened his wings, and safely glided to the ground however, landing on the front steps. He paused for a few seconds, looking around to get a bearing on his surroundings, before shaking off the infernal dust that settled on him from the man, then padding over to the door, and scratched on it with his paw, begging to be let back in.
The man hung his head outside for a few minutes, not quite seeing what happened to his pet as his eyes were red and watery. The past day had been hell with all the cleaning, with every square inch of the cottage covered in a square foot of dust. He let out another few loud sneezes, before turning back to the room, grabbing the duster to start the cycle up all over again.
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Eira Whittle
Committed
Roleplay posts: 93
Age: 22
Physical Description: Eira is a willowy, pale, delicate young lady who seems to be more hair than woman. Her eyes are a deep shade of purple, almost black. She wears a little makeup, mostly to color her lips, but only because she's very fond of purple.
Clothes and Equipment: The young woman usually wears a variety of skirts and blouses except when she's gardening, where the skirts are replaced with breeches and thick boots.
The medicine woman has an intense plethora of equipment, most of which doesn't leave the house. The most prominent and noteworthy of them are the Strings of Fate, a magical item given to her by her mother. Without careful preparation, the Strings of Fate are worthless, but with enough time it allows her to weave obstacles that would be devastating to her enemies by linking butterfly effects around the area that it may touch, causing things like a loose pebble to become a landslide, or letting a stray wind carry poisonous spores into someone's airways.
The Strings of Fate have unlimited applications, but only the trickest ones are the most effective.
Registered: Jan 13, 2018 21:19:47 GMT -8
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Post by Eira Whittle on Apr 16, 2018 21:28:00 GMT -8
Not a day had passed since Eira had set out to the nearest village to barter for a few pounds of salt, and yet she was already returning. She had set out the moment she and Amairgen had come back from their adventure in Tir la Morr, convincing a water sprite to help fix and purify the well that she had been trying to fix since her arrival the day before. Now, the next most important task was at hand that would guarantee their survival this far out in the woods: the salt trap.
The witch called out as she rolled the carriage up to her cottage, waving at Amairgen as he disappeared back inside. "Shall I give you a break from the dust before you suffocate? I bought food!" She whistled to the owlcat, slipping cured fish from a bag that lay beside her in the coach's seat. "And a treat for you, you mischievous little monster!"
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Amairgen Llyr
Established
Roleplay posts: 38
Age: 28
Physical Description: While other druids may abstain from the use of razors or soap to bring them closer to nature, that is not the style of Amairgen Llyr. His blond facial hair is shaved except for a thick mustache perched upon his full lips. He wears his blond hair short on the sides and long on the top, slicking it back when he had supplies, otherwise it naturally parts on the left side of his head. His bright green eyes contrast with the natural green of the forest.
Amairgen is tall at 6’ 5”, and lithely built, which hides his true strength. His skin is weathered from his life in the outdoors, but usually pale from spending most his time in the forest. His arms and hands are scarred from a variety of encounters with wild animals that turned out to be not so friendly.
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Clothes and Equipment: Armairgen is clothed to blend in with the forest, as his color pallete is mostly browns and greens. He wears a brown bycocket on his head, with a hawk’s feather pinned to the left side with a badge in the shape of a poppy flower.
He wears a thick cotton button up shirt with short sleeves, forest green in color. His shorts are of the same fabric, held up with a thick brown leather belt. His leather boots come to his ankles, exposing the thick green woolen socks that nearly come to his knees, which are held in their place by twine.
He carries a canvas pack on his shoulders, which carries most of his necessary supplies. Rope, soap, a comb, a needle and thread, whet stones, flints, double baked bread, a small Dutch oven for cooking, a set of cutlery, extra socks and underwear all find a place in the canvas, with a bedroll on the outside.
In his belt he carries a hunting knife, which he keeps sharp, and a round canteen to carry water. A pocket knife in always in his breast pocket. He keeps a walking stick nearly as tall as himself in hand, made of beechwood, and with a small leather wrapping emblazoned with runes.
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Registered: Dec 28, 2017 15:08:54 GMT -8
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Post by Amairgen Llyr on Apr 17, 2018 9:34:09 GMT -8
Amairgen barely heard Eira as she pulled up, as apparently there was a fair bit of dust in his ears as well. I'll need a good washing once all this is done, he admitted privately to himself, as he left the room and went down the stairs to the main level. His face, forearms, and legs were all covered in dust, as well as his clothes. In fact, he wagered, it would be hard to find a square inch of him not covered in a fine layer of dust, except for his more... private areas.
He had been hard at work while Eira was gone, having cleaned up most the broken furniture, throwing it outside in a pile behind the cottage to be used for burning later. Another thing that needs to be done, as well as getting new furniture. He had also dusted, swept, and mopped the floors of most of the main level, expanding the clean zone out from the kitchen. Navigating through the entryway, he stepped out the front door, snagging his boots as they rested beside the door and then sitting on the stone stairs to pull them on.
Initially, Clyde paid no heed to Eira. He didn't come when called, except when he wanted to, it was part of his contract with the Owlcat union, which he would occasionally remind people of. But, being part of the union, one also could take bribes. And Eira certainly had a bribe worth taking, Clyde thought as he smelled the cured fish. Jogging to the wagon, with a quick pounce and flap of his wings, he landed next to Eira, and rubbed up against her, purring as he did so.
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Eira Whittle
Committed
Roleplay posts: 93
Age: 22
Physical Description: Eira is a willowy, pale, delicate young lady who seems to be more hair than woman. Her eyes are a deep shade of purple, almost black. She wears a little makeup, mostly to color her lips, but only because she's very fond of purple.
Clothes and Equipment: The young woman usually wears a variety of skirts and blouses except when she's gardening, where the skirts are replaced with breeches and thick boots.
The medicine woman has an intense plethora of equipment, most of which doesn't leave the house. The most prominent and noteworthy of them are the Strings of Fate, a magical item given to her by her mother. Without careful preparation, the Strings of Fate are worthless, but with enough time it allows her to weave obstacles that would be devastating to her enemies by linking butterfly effects around the area that it may touch, causing things like a loose pebble to become a landslide, or letting a stray wind carry poisonous spores into someone's airways.
The Strings of Fate have unlimited applications, but only the trickest ones are the most effective.
Registered: Jan 13, 2018 21:19:47 GMT -8
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Post by Eira Whittle on Apr 17, 2018 20:52:36 GMT -8
Laughing, the witch scratched the owlcat beneath the chin and down his neck. "I thought so!" she grinned, handing the bird the small piece of fish. When she spotted Amairgen, she slipped from her seat, taking the bag with her. "Hungry? I hope so!" she piped, reaching into the sack. She pulled out two large jars: one filled with saurkraut, the other with potted pork, filled with fat. "We've got quite a lot to eat! You... might want to clean up, however. I'm sure you've had your fill of dust lining your stomach." The witch pranced over to the well and leaned over the side until she was teetering into it, the tips of her toes barely touching the ground. She grabbed the other side of the well as she began to fall too far forward, chanting: "Gentle as the babbling brook
Callous as the roaring river
Fill my wish to ev’ry nook
Prithee, Tsunis, come hither!" No sooner had the words left her lips, did a geyser of water burst from the well, stopping just before it hit the roof of the well. The water hovered mid-air, twisting and shaping until it began to take the form of a lithe, feminine young man with striking features. He had his legs crossed and his chin sat atop the back of one hand, lazily bent over as he eyed the witch. Around his neck was the amulet they had given to him when they made the deal with him in Tir la Mor. The spirit helped the woman back onto the ground, lifting her by her hands. They exchanged smiles. "I know you are eager to get my attention, but you really should be more careful!" he scolded. Folding her arms, the witch pouted. "I trust you wouldn't let the property owner die before she gave you a way back to the land of the fae. Amairgen would not be happy with you, either!" The spirit eyed the scout, shoulders heaving upward with a sigh. "What did you do to yourself this time, druid? You are a mess! I almost doubt my ability to get you cleaned!" |
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Amairgen Llyr
Established
Roleplay posts: 38
Age: 28
Physical Description: While other druids may abstain from the use of razors or soap to bring them closer to nature, that is not the style of Amairgen Llyr. His blond facial hair is shaved except for a thick mustache perched upon his full lips. He wears his blond hair short on the sides and long on the top, slicking it back when he had supplies, otherwise it naturally parts on the left side of his head. His bright green eyes contrast with the natural green of the forest.
Amairgen is tall at 6’ 5”, and lithely built, which hides his true strength. His skin is weathered from his life in the outdoors, but usually pale from spending most his time in the forest. His arms and hands are scarred from a variety of encounters with wild animals that turned out to be not so friendly.
________________________________
Clothes and Equipment: Armairgen is clothed to blend in with the forest, as his color pallete is mostly browns and greens. He wears a brown bycocket on his head, with a hawk’s feather pinned to the left side with a badge in the shape of a poppy flower.
He wears a thick cotton button up shirt with short sleeves, forest green in color. His shorts are of the same fabric, held up with a thick brown leather belt. His leather boots come to his ankles, exposing the thick green woolen socks that nearly come to his knees, which are held in their place by twine.
He carries a canvas pack on his shoulders, which carries most of his necessary supplies. Rope, soap, a comb, a needle and thread, whet stones, flints, double baked bread, a small Dutch oven for cooking, a set of cutlery, extra socks and underwear all find a place in the canvas, with a bedroll on the outside.
In his belt he carries a hunting knife, which he keeps sharp, and a round canteen to carry water. A pocket knife in always in his breast pocket. He keeps a walking stick nearly as tall as himself in hand, made of beechwood, and with a small leather wrapping emblazoned with runes.
__________________________________
Registered: Dec 28, 2017 15:08:54 GMT -8
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Post by Amairgen Llyr on Apr 18, 2018 10:00:55 GMT -8
Amairgen gave a warm smile to Eira as she offered the potted pork and sauerkraut, his stomach rumbling with the thought of not eating dust for a change. He was about to open his mouth to protest needing the wash, wanting to wait until he finished cleaning before he got cleaned, or otherwise he would get dirty all over again, but Eira had walked away by that point. Whatever the boss says he thought, shaking his head, turning back to pulling on his boots.
He didn't see Eira nearly falling down the well until Tsunis chided her for it. This time? Amairgen thought as he finished tying his boots on the steps, before walking back inside to grab his pack, which was luckily right by the door, so he didn't need to dirty the clean floors. Carrying it by the handle, he joined Tsunis and Eira by the well, setting it down before digging out his bar of soap, his comb, and a piece of cloth. Grabbing the bucket, which so happened to be filled because of the theatrics of Tsunis, he walked some distance off, so he could bathe himself in a little privacy.
Clyde happily gulped down the offered piece of cured fish, before curling up into a little ball on the seat of the wagon, and started dozing in the sun.
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Eira Whittle
Committed
Roleplay posts: 93
Age: 22
Physical Description: Eira is a willowy, pale, delicate young lady who seems to be more hair than woman. Her eyes are a deep shade of purple, almost black. She wears a little makeup, mostly to color her lips, but only because she's very fond of purple.
Clothes and Equipment: The young woman usually wears a variety of skirts and blouses except when she's gardening, where the skirts are replaced with breeches and thick boots.
The medicine woman has an intense plethora of equipment, most of which doesn't leave the house. The most prominent and noteworthy of them are the Strings of Fate, a magical item given to her by her mother. Without careful preparation, the Strings of Fate are worthless, but with enough time it allows her to weave obstacles that would be devastating to her enemies by linking butterfly effects around the area that it may touch, causing things like a loose pebble to become a landslide, or letting a stray wind carry poisonous spores into someone's airways.
The Strings of Fate have unlimited applications, but only the trickest ones are the most effective.
Registered: Jan 13, 2018 21:19:47 GMT -8
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Post by Eira Whittle on Apr 18, 2018 10:16:31 GMT -8
Turning around, the witch watched the druid walk away. "Wait! Amairgen! Why don't you let Tsunis help you? I'm sure it'll be much quicker!" she protested. "That's why I called him up here, anyway."
The water spirit grinned at the man. "I promise I won't even miss a spot. I'm very thorough, you know. I won't even leave a drop of water on your person!"
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Amairgen Llyr
Established
Roleplay posts: 38
Age: 28
Physical Description: While other druids may abstain from the use of razors or soap to bring them closer to nature, that is not the style of Amairgen Llyr. His blond facial hair is shaved except for a thick mustache perched upon his full lips. He wears his blond hair short on the sides and long on the top, slicking it back when he had supplies, otherwise it naturally parts on the left side of his head. His bright green eyes contrast with the natural green of the forest.
Amairgen is tall at 6’ 5”, and lithely built, which hides his true strength. His skin is weathered from his life in the outdoors, but usually pale from spending most his time in the forest. His arms and hands are scarred from a variety of encounters with wild animals that turned out to be not so friendly.
________________________________
Clothes and Equipment: Armairgen is clothed to blend in with the forest, as his color pallete is mostly browns and greens. He wears a brown bycocket on his head, with a hawk’s feather pinned to the left side with a badge in the shape of a poppy flower.
He wears a thick cotton button up shirt with short sleeves, forest green in color. His shorts are of the same fabric, held up with a thick brown leather belt. His leather boots come to his ankles, exposing the thick green woolen socks that nearly come to his knees, which are held in their place by twine.
He carries a canvas pack on his shoulders, which carries most of his necessary supplies. Rope, soap, a comb, a needle and thread, whet stones, flints, double baked bread, a small Dutch oven for cooking, a set of cutlery, extra socks and underwear all find a place in the canvas, with a bedroll on the outside.
In his belt he carries a hunting knife, which he keeps sharp, and a round canteen to carry water. A pocket knife in always in his breast pocket. He keeps a walking stick nearly as tall as himself in hand, made of beechwood, and with a small leather wrapping emblazoned with runes.
__________________________________
Registered: Dec 28, 2017 15:08:54 GMT -8
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Post by Amairgen Llyr on Apr 18, 2018 10:29:05 GMT -8
Amairgen was lucky his back was turned to Eira and Tsunis, because as soon as he heard the suggestion of Eira, his face turned bright red from the thought of being... cleaned by the water spirit, especially in front of Eira. He had barely warmed up to Eira since their encounter yesterday, and his reserved nature couldn't find a place in it for a strange creature to be rooting around his body, finding every nook and cranny. And a spectator, especially one as pretty as Eira, only added more ice cold apprehension that was forming at the back of his spine.
He was torn for a few seconds, being stopped in his tracks, on whether to turn to face the pair and show his embarrassment evident on his face and in his voice, or appear to be rude and just walk off. A Scout is Courteous came his Scout Master's teaching, followed by a less formal lesson, Don't swim where there's water spirits. Gods only know what they've been up to, who they've been swimming with. These competing thoughts ran neck and neck for several seconds, each racing to his tongue.
Finally, he decided embarrassment was the best course. Turning on his heels to face the pair, he barely managed to speak, his quiet tone making it hard for himself to hear let alone the others, "I think I'll be fine washing myself for now. T-thanks anyways." With that, he turned back around and continued for the trees, his face somehow even redder now than it was before.
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Eira Whittle
Committed
Roleplay posts: 93
Age: 22
Physical Description: Eira is a willowy, pale, delicate young lady who seems to be more hair than woman. Her eyes are a deep shade of purple, almost black. She wears a little makeup, mostly to color her lips, but only because she's very fond of purple.
Clothes and Equipment: The young woman usually wears a variety of skirts and blouses except when she's gardening, where the skirts are replaced with breeches and thick boots.
The medicine woman has an intense plethora of equipment, most of which doesn't leave the house. The most prominent and noteworthy of them are the Strings of Fate, a magical item given to her by her mother. Without careful preparation, the Strings of Fate are worthless, but with enough time it allows her to weave obstacles that would be devastating to her enemies by linking butterfly effects around the area that it may touch, causing things like a loose pebble to become a landslide, or letting a stray wind carry poisonous spores into someone's airways.
The Strings of Fate have unlimited applications, but only the trickest ones are the most effective.
Registered: Jan 13, 2018 21:19:47 GMT -8
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Post by Eira Whittle on Apr 18, 2018 20:03:23 GMT -8
The witch and the water spirit watched Amairgen's reaction with several different types of fascination scrolling through their minds. Eira's hand was covering her mouth, while Tsunis eyes shot open as wide as humanly possible. When the druid disappeared into the forest, the pair exchanged glances.
"Oh, dear," the spirit moaned. "A saintly one, him."
"I have no idea what you're talking about," replied the witch. "Was that an unreasonable offer? I don't see a problem." She paused, eyes straining to the corners of her lids to stare at Tsunis. "Do you... think he likes men? Maybe that's why he won't let you do it."
The water spirit rolled his eyes. "I don't know if you're daft or coy, but I'm going to leave you two with some alone time so one of you figures it out."
With that, the spirit's form fell apart and rained back down into the well as though he was never there. The witch made no further comments on the matter and instead retreated into the kitchen to prepare their meal for the afternoon. Hefty portions were scraped onto a couple of plates, and two mugs of water were set out. The witch fiddled with the wood stove, trying to start a fire before the druid returned.
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Amairgen Llyr
Established
Roleplay posts: 38
Age: 28
Physical Description: While other druids may abstain from the use of razors or soap to bring them closer to nature, that is not the style of Amairgen Llyr. His blond facial hair is shaved except for a thick mustache perched upon his full lips. He wears his blond hair short on the sides and long on the top, slicking it back when he had supplies, otherwise it naturally parts on the left side of his head. His bright green eyes contrast with the natural green of the forest.
Amairgen is tall at 6’ 5”, and lithely built, which hides his true strength. His skin is weathered from his life in the outdoors, but usually pale from spending most his time in the forest. His arms and hands are scarred from a variety of encounters with wild animals that turned out to be not so friendly.
________________________________
Clothes and Equipment: Armairgen is clothed to blend in with the forest, as his color pallete is mostly browns and greens. He wears a brown bycocket on his head, with a hawk’s feather pinned to the left side with a badge in the shape of a poppy flower.
He wears a thick cotton button up shirt with short sleeves, forest green in color. His shorts are of the same fabric, held up with a thick brown leather belt. His leather boots come to his ankles, exposing the thick green woolen socks that nearly come to his knees, which are held in their place by twine.
He carries a canvas pack on his shoulders, which carries most of his necessary supplies. Rope, soap, a comb, a needle and thread, whet stones, flints, double baked bread, a small Dutch oven for cooking, a set of cutlery, extra socks and underwear all find a place in the canvas, with a bedroll on the outside.
In his belt he carries a hunting knife, which he keeps sharp, and a round canteen to carry water. A pocket knife in always in his breast pocket. He keeps a walking stick nearly as tall as himself in hand, made of beechwood, and with a small leather wrapping emblazoned with runes.
__________________________________
Registered: Dec 28, 2017 15:08:54 GMT -8
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Post by Amairgen Llyr on Apr 18, 2018 20:47:35 GMT -8
As soon as he was sure he was out of sight, Amairgen nearly broke into a sprint, trying to run further into the one place he knew where he could find refuge, the forest. The familiar scents of decaying leaves, damp moss, and good, clean dirt, not the dust that settled in the cottage, came pouring over him, causing the redness of his cheeks to fade to nothingness. He stopped running some distance into the woods, where he was sure he was far enough away that no one could stumble across him... especially Eira.
He found a large, warm rock that had been bathing in the sun in a clearing, and sat down on it. He quickly stripped out his clothes, starting with his boots and socks, letting his bare feet rest in the grass that grew in the clearing. He unbuttoned his shirt and shorts, and threw them in the bucket of water first, and quickly scrubbed them down, to try and get as much dirt off them as possible. He spread them out to bake on the rock, which soon had them nearly dry, but as stiff as boards.
He used the cloth and soap to scrub down while his clothes dried, and brushed back his hair and combed his mustache with his comb. As he finished waiting for his clothes to dry, he knelt on the ground, and meditated for a while. He tried to clear his mind, to focus on the sounds of nature around him, and to become one with it, but Eira kept popping back up into his inner mind, no matter the amount of times that he tried to shoo her away. Finally, he realized it was a useless endeavor, and got dressed once more, and returned to the cottage, dumping out the dirty water in the bucket.
As he was returning, Clyde decided to wake up from his nap on the seat of the wagon, letting out a long, silent yawn as he stretched himself fully out. He found that he was alone again, and started mewing for attention, before he smelled the smoke coming from the kitchen. Deciding that's where the humans probably were, he pounced from the wagon, and flapped his wings until he gained enough altitude to glide through the second story window, and down the stairs into the kitchen, alighting on the table. He gave Eira another, "Mew," demanding the union required scratches.
When he finally made it back, he set the bucket down by the well and grabbed his pack cautiously, half expecting the water sprite to return and make more jokes at his expense. He threw his comb and soap back into the pack, but left the cloth outside to dry. He took off his boots yet again before he crossed the threshold, and reset his pack down by the door. He joined the two in the kitchen, sitting at the table before bowing his head in quick prayer before digging into the meal.
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