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 22, 2018 20:22:19 GMT -8
With a smile wrapped around a full mouth of sauerkraut, Eira petted the owlcat, now and again giving him a sliver of fish when he begged just enough. The fire didn't take long to start, especially with the number of trinkets that the witch had around the house that made life that much easier. Sometimes, the medicine woman wondered what she would even do without magic.
When Amairgen returned, the spirit watched him from the well, eyes barely peaked over the side of the stone wall. A small chuckle escaped him, making a sound like water droplets splattering against the ground.
Eira turned to see the scout return, grinning wide. "There's the Amairgen I recognize! I could hardly tell it was you beneath all the dust, before! Then again, that is how we met, isn't it?" She suppressed a laugh, but it didn't escape her eyes.
"So! After this, I was thinking of taking a break from all the dusting. I wanted to get the salt trap up as fast as possible. As much as I love that my inherent nature attracts mostly friendly company, we're inevitably going to get not-so-friendly company, as well. We need to be prepared."
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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 Apr 23, 2018 9:45:51 GMT -8
Amairgen was slightly disheartened by Eira's lack of comment about how much he had cleaned while she had gone into town, though he brushed it off as her not really having time to walk around the cottage and get settled yet. Playing off of her comment about not recognizing him, he quipped with a sarcastic smile, "Well, it wasn't me. That was a dust monster that had chased me out and taken over the cottage while you were gone. Be glad that it didn't decide to try and attack you too."
He wasn't quite sure what a salt trap was when Eira mentioned it. The only uses for salt he knew were for meat preservation, something to make meat taste better, or to make a block to use as a lure for deer. But, whatever Eira wanted, Amairgen would help her with while he stayed under her roof, and more specifically, while he ate a few bites of pork slathered with sauerkraut, occasionally taking sips of water to wash away the brine aftertaste. Not quite realizing what he was saying, he replied, "Well, your nature is quite endearing. No wonder why people want to come here."
Clyde wouldn't degrade himself with begging. Not now, not never. Most certainly not. He would remain strong, despite the succulent texture of the fish, the taste of the smoke that danced upon the taste buds, the taste of the sea, which he loved despite the wetness... Before he knew it, he was mewing to Eira, asking for more fish please, occasionally rolling onto his back and revealing his soft fur on his stomach, trying to persuade Eira to give him more.
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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 27, 2018 10:24:17 GMT -8
"Oh, how lucky I am that the dust monster left before I got back," replied Eira, grinning. "If I didn't know any better, I'd believe you."
Another piece of fish was thrown at the owlcat, though not before some playful teasing. She held the fish high in the air, wiggling the treat mischievously, lifting it out of the way as he leaped for it.
At Amairgen's comment, she grinned, hiding it behind her fingers. “Is that why you’re sticking around?” she asked him jokingly, raising a brow. “Because I certainly know why Clyde is staying. That much is obvious.”
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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 Apr 27, 2018 19:41:24 GMT -8
Amairgen felt his face grow even redder by Eira's jab than when she suggested Tsunis wash him. He even felt the heat spread to his mustache and the roots of his hair, turning them bright orange, and his skin turned from its usual semi-tan to more akin an apple. Seems I'm mainly still here to get my daily helpings of humility, though I was never prideful... Is claiming to not be prideful prideful in and of itself? Still begs the question, why am I here? Frankly, I don't know, but it sure helps that Eira is here... A Scout is Reverent! resounded the words of his Scout Master in his mind, causing Amairgen to stop on that train of thought.
"I-I don't know w-what you mean, I-I'm just here to help you get s-settled in," Amairgen stammered out, feeling the heat from his face beginning to claw at his throat, and into his cotton shirt, still somewhat stiff from getting washed. And now getting itchy too, unbearably so. Father of the Forest, what did I do to deserve such torment? Hm? I can't stand this shirt, it feels like I'm choking. But if I undo the buttons, Eira might be disappointed, think you're nothing but a dirty tree hugger, unfit for civilized people, with their soft hands, and pearly round eyes, and slim fingers... A Scout is Respectful!
Finally, Amairgen knew he wasn't going to win this mental fight. With his body screaming for the cool relief of a breath of air, he undid his top two buttons, which exposed some of his chest, but provided that oh so sweet caress of cool spring air.
Clyde, meanwhile, had no inclinations or cares about his master's plights. He was too worried about his own quest for even more bits of fish. He saw Eira hoist one far above her head, and well beyond normal pounce range. Wiggling his body, judging the distance, timing the flight, Clyde pounced, using his wings to give him a little more lift. His beak was open, his eyes wide, his hopes up!... and he flew past. He looked back towards the delicious morsel, trying to figure out how he missed, when he found the wall was much closer than expected. He landed with a crash, and hopped right up again, pretending nothing happened by preening himself.
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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 29, 2018 21:16:49 GMT -8
Eira snickered, fingers up at her lips again. Whether this was from Amairgen's stutter or Clyde's clumsy recovery, it wasn't apparent. The moment the witch noticed the man's face, however, she rushed over. "Oh dear, Amairgen, are you alright?" She reached out to put a hand on his forehead. "You look awful. Is it the dust? Maybe you've strained yourself. Is the food bad?"
She lifted the jars to smell them, trying to figure out if it had a funny scent to it. They certainly looked alright. "Maybe it's too warm in here? I'll open a door!"
The witch got up hurriedly and ran toward the door to open it, letting a breeze float through the kitchen like a lofty sigh. "Is that better? Do you feel better?"
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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 May 1, 2018 11:10:31 GMT -8
If it was indeed possible, which Amairgen was starting to believe, his face turned even redder when Eira started fussing over him. He nearly jolted out of his seat when Eira reached over to feel his forehead, trying to escape the source of his embarrassment. He realized his escape was then impossible, as she began to run through some theories about what was making him turn this red. He attempted to stutter out, "I-I'm fine," but he knew nothing would come of that.
Finally, he did get out of his chair when she ran to open the door. He contemplated jumping out the window and making a break for the trees, but he knew he wouldn't get far without his boots or shoes. Plus, he was more than halfway convinced that Tsunis would rat him out his position to Eira, which would somehow be even more embarrassing. He contemplated too long, as Eira came back to ask if he felt better. Lying, he answered, "Yes, yes, let's just get the salt trap going. Fresh air will do me some good I think." And getting out of close confines with you.
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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 May 4, 2018 8:02:22 GMT -8
The witch was perplexed. She tucked her hair behind her ears and raised her eyebrows in concern. "Are you sure? Very well. Just don't push yourself too hard, alright? The second you start feeling ill, I want you to let me know. I've got a winter's worth of herbs in storage."
Sauntering out of the door with an eye on the scout, Eira padded over to the wagon, filled with bags, and bags, and bags... of salt.
Placing her hand on top of the pile, she grinned. "So we're going to be using all of this to make a circle around the entire property. And I'm going to bless it. Then I'm going to curse it. It's a bit of a process!"
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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 May 4, 2018 9:05:39 GMT -8
Amairgen welcomed the reprieve from conversation as they exited the cottage. He stopped for a few moments to pull on his boots outside the door, and found himself once more very tempted to make a run for it. But, he was even more convinced that since Eira was out here with him, she'd find a way to hex him to make him come back in an undignified manner with a lot of clawing at the ground and attempts to break free... even more undignified than making a break for the trees.
He followed over to the wagon, looking at the rather big sacks of salt. He was listening to her as he tried to figure out the best way to carry them. It would be like... well, carrying a sack of salt. Deciding that it would be best just to get it over with, he hefted a sack onto his shoulder, grunting from the weight. Pulling out his pocket knife from his pocket, he offered it to Eira, saying, "Well point me in the direction you want to start, and cut the back. As I walk, it'll lay a path."
Clyde had decided he had enough of being humiliated for today. Deciding to go back to his nap, he leaped out of the kitchen window, flapping his wings a few times to land onto the wagon seat. Curling up into a ball, he was soon purring contentedly as the sun warmed his feathers.
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Sangrei Friedn
Established
Roleplay posts: 26
Age: 25-ish
Physical Description: Sangrei looks to be in his mid-20s, and has silver-white hair which has grown increasingly from a short crop. His eyes are dark turquoise and he stands at about 6 feet tall, but tends to slouch when presenting himself. His body has various scars, mostly nicks and scratches which have healed over, lightly visible. His most prominent wound is a healed gash stretching from his left shoulderblade to the middle of his back.
Clothes and Equipment: The only things that Sangrei carries at all times is his sword, Stahl Schmertz. Stahl Schmertz is a steel broadsword, standard issue from Sangrei's old corps. It has seen its share of wear and tear, and has been reforged and resharpened a number of times. He refuses to abandon the sword out of sentimental value, and it hasn't given out on him yet either.
Stahl's scabbard carries the weight of his allies; whenever Sangrei loses a comrade, he tears a strip of cloth from their clothing and adds it to the wrapping around the sheath.
Sangrei's general attire consists of casual clothing, usually local to the area he is in. He frequently carries a knapsack and wallet, though this is not always the case.
Registered: Jan 16, 2018 19:48:59 GMT -8
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Post by Sangrei Friedn on May 4, 2018 10:54:12 GMT -8
Dust slowly rose as the worn, beaten looking white-haired man trudged down the path. A sizable knapsack was on his back, and a sword across his hip. Dressed in slightly-dusted and dirtied casual wear, he approached the cottage, looking mildly annoyed at everything around him in general.
His expression mellowed as he approached the two people, though his eyes barely seemed to focus on Eira. “‘M back, missy. Brought ya a gift..” His gaze slowly shifted to the wagon full of salt and he scowled at it. “Ah, right. Sorry, I was s’posed t’get all that wasn’t I? Funny story about getting turned around in mystical forests..anyway. Didn’t mean t’make ya have to do the work. Hopefully this makes up for it.” He lifted the sack, flipping the top open briefly to reveal a number of different kinds of herbs.
“No clue what I grabbed, but I grabbed ‘em. Some of them I’ve seen around, but ain’t sure what they’re for.” Although Sangrei was usually attentive, Eira's relaxed posture had led him to ignore the other person who he normally would’ve scanned over sooner, finally recognizing another party present.
“..oh, who’s this? Got tired of just me around and decided t’get yourself another man, eh, missy?” he commented dryly, letting out a brief laugh. “Well, introduce us, then."
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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 May 4, 2018 11:36:06 GMT -8
"Yes, that'll work, so long as you feel you can lift it! Are you feeling better now that you're out here? This might take a whil-"
The woman spun around the moment she heard the other voice. Her jaw popped open just a smidge, hand lifting to cover her mouth. She stormed over to the young, white-haired man, raised her other hand to his face, and, tenderly, softly-
-slapped him on the shoulder.
"How dare you take so long!" she chided, a frown dragging at her features. "I was so worried about you! I thought you'd died! I was just about to transform the horse into a bloodhound to look for you! Maybe you'd fallen down a well! You have no idea! Do you know how hard it is to act like a decent person in front of company when you're fretting?"
After the well-deserved chastising, the woman crossed her arms, huffed, then sighed. The rage left as fast as it came. "I'm glad you're okay. You're going to have to tell me what happened when you get the chance. This is Amairgen. He helped fix the well so we have fresh water now! He's been a big help. Amairgen, this is Sangrei."
She reached out for the bag of herbs, thanking the young man. "You must be famished. There's sauerkraut and meat in the kitchen. Eat as much as you like. There's plenty: at least enough for three more portions."
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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 May 4, 2018 17:58:30 GMT -8
Amairgen was about to answer that he was sure he could heft the sack, the hard part was just getting it on his shoulder, when they were joined by a new man. And from what he could gather from the quick exchange between the pair, he appeared to have as sharp a wit as Eira and Tsunis had. I better prepare to just sleep in the trees, so I can stop turning beet red all day.
But the upside to Sangrei became very evident as soon as Eira tore into him. Someone else could take her jabs, instead of solely him. I'll need to introduce him to Tsunis as soon as possible. He offered his hand to Sangrei, simply stating, "Pleasure." He shifted the weight of the sack a bit better on his right shoulder, so it wouldn't cut into his circulation too much.
...another man.
Eira had been carving wood all day, working them into planks, forming a box big enough to fit the 6'5" Amairgen. Now, Sangrei provided the final nail for the coffin. It wasn't physically possible for Amairgen's face to feel hotter from earlier, but somehow, the laws of physics were defied. And there were punishments for defying the laws of physics, for they didn't like being played with. Amairgen's knees felt weak, his eyes rolled up in his head, and he fell towards his left. As if hitting the ground wasn't enough, the 50 lb bag of salt landed on his side, forcing out all the air in his body.
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Sangrei Friedn
Established
Roleplay posts: 26
Age: 25-ish
Physical Description: Sangrei looks to be in his mid-20s, and has silver-white hair which has grown increasingly from a short crop. His eyes are dark turquoise and he stands at about 6 feet tall, but tends to slouch when presenting himself. His body has various scars, mostly nicks and scratches which have healed over, lightly visible. His most prominent wound is a healed gash stretching from his left shoulderblade to the middle of his back.
Clothes and Equipment: The only things that Sangrei carries at all times is his sword, Stahl Schmertz. Stahl Schmertz is a steel broadsword, standard issue from Sangrei's old corps. It has seen its share of wear and tear, and has been reforged and resharpened a number of times. He refuses to abandon the sword out of sentimental value, and it hasn't given out on him yet either.
Stahl's scabbard carries the weight of his allies; whenever Sangrei loses a comrade, he tears a strip of cloth from their clothing and adds it to the wrapping around the sheath.
Sangrei's general attire consists of casual clothing, usually local to the area he is in. He frequently carries a knapsack and wallet, though this is not always the case.
Registered: Jan 16, 2018 19:48:59 GMT -8
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Post by Sangrei Friedn on May 4, 2018 18:41:37 GMT -8
Sangrei raised an eyebrow as she approached, prepared for some reaction, but even then, the slap from the witch did hurt. There was no avoiding it with how tired he was, not that he would've done so anyway, since he deserved it to some extent. The man inclined his head in loose apology, but still waved her off lightly. "Aye, missy, but I am your bodyguard. 'm sorry for my lateness, though - and, you were worried? That's cute that ya kept me in yer thoughts," he remarked, managing a grin and a wink.
"Yeah, of course. I'll tell ya later tonight or somethin, but it looks like you're in the middle of somethin. And, a pleasure." He managed to shake Amairgen's hand before something seemed to register in the other man's mind as he slowly toppled over onto the ground. Sangrei tilted his head at the unconscious body in front of him, bursting out into laughter at the ridiculousness of the situation. Chest still shaking, he glanced at Eira. "Y'think it was somethin' I said, Miss Eira? Y'really know how to pick 'em, don'tcha."
With a grunt and a push of his foot, he rolled the bag of salt off Amairgen, then nodded at his employer-companion, declining her hand politely. "I heard food? I'm gonna go get somethin' and drop off this bag. I'll bring a bucket of water back out to throw on this guy, but in the meantime.." A smirk quickly crossed his face as he began walking towards the door. "..maybe he'd recover better if you let him rest on your lap while you wait? Ground's hard."
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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 May 6, 2018 18:43:32 GMT -8
The witch's hands flew up to her mouth when the scout fainted. A hand lashed out to whap Sangrei in the arm. "How could you laugh!" she scolded, biting her lips. She crouched next to the man. She reached over to his shoulder to drag him onto his back. Frowning, the woman already felt guilty. She knew he wasn't ready for such a lofty task after how sick he looked earlier! Why, oh why, had he insisted so much?
"Oh, trust me, Sangrei, I've got something much better," answered Eira. "Could you do me a quick favor before you go inside? Go to the well and call forth Tsunis for me." Swiftly, she repeated the chant to Sangrei. "He should be able to wake up Amairgen so we can get him inside and out of the sun."
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Sangrei Friedn
Established
Roleplay posts: 26
Age: 25-ish
Physical Description: Sangrei looks to be in his mid-20s, and has silver-white hair which has grown increasingly from a short crop. His eyes are dark turquoise and he stands at about 6 feet tall, but tends to slouch when presenting himself. His body has various scars, mostly nicks and scratches which have healed over, lightly visible. His most prominent wound is a healed gash stretching from his left shoulderblade to the middle of his back.
Clothes and Equipment: The only things that Sangrei carries at all times is his sword, Stahl Schmertz. Stahl Schmertz is a steel broadsword, standard issue from Sangrei's old corps. It has seen its share of wear and tear, and has been reforged and resharpened a number of times. He refuses to abandon the sword out of sentimental value, and it hasn't given out on him yet either.
Stahl's scabbard carries the weight of his allies; whenever Sangrei loses a comrade, he tears a strip of cloth from their clothing and adds it to the wrapping around the sheath.
Sangrei's general attire consists of casual clothing, usually local to the area he is in. He frequently carries a knapsack and wallet, though this is not always the case.
Registered: Jan 16, 2018 19:48:59 GMT -8
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Post by Sangrei Friedn on May 7, 2018 21:22:30 GMT -8
"Aye aye, ma'am," Sangrei replied with a chuckle, repeating the chant back to her to confirm that he heard it properly, still shambling towards the cottage. He gave a quick wave as a salute, altering his path to take him towards the well. Another brief walk brought him to the edge of the water source, and the man scratched his head, light exhaustion clouding his thoughts. "Lesse, how did it go again? Hope I don't need any significant magic...did she forget I ain't a witch?" That said, for effect, the mercenary held his palm out towards the opening and focused, a wispy white, almost translucent energy swirling loosely around his arm. "I'll give ya what I got."
"Gentle as the babbling brook, callous as the roaring river, fill my wish to ev’ry nook, prithee, Tsunis, come hither!" Sangrei exhaled with the light effort of everything, then nodded to the well assuming he had performed the chant correctly. "Hey, the missy needs help with somethin, I guess. Over there. Sorry, 'm tired, good luck." With a polite nod, he resumed his journey towards the food inside.
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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 May 15, 2018 11:14:29 GMT -8
Immediately upon uttering the words, a spout of water rocketed from the well, hovering and twisting midair until its globulous form resembled something human. The spirit's build mirrored Sangrei's, though he had a long face and sharper features.
Tsunis' eyes gazed upon Sangrei's form for a long moment, scanning him thoroughly. A grin spread across his lips, bringing with it all the mischief in the world.
"To bed already? Let me know if you need some company," sang the spirit to the swordsman, backstroking through the air towards the witch and the scout. He gave Sangrei a wink before spinning in place so that he faced Amairgen, hands reaching for the man's face. "Wakey, wakey!" he warbled, just before his form completely fell apart in a rainfall upon the scout's face.
Eira's cheeks drained. "That was too much!" she yelled.
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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 May 16, 2018 7:26:42 GMT -8
Darkness. The tickling of a field of grass. The heat of the midday sun as it beat down on skin. The fragrance of flower buds blooming in the spring season. The sweet giggle of Eira as she talks. A face full of water... A face full of water? That's not right. Cold water that works in ways into the sinuses and down the throat, making it impossible to breath. I need to wake up, I need to breath.
Amairgen sputtered back to life, sitting upright amidst coughing and sneezing to get the water out of his sinuses. Between hacks, because the water went down the wrong pipe, he asked, "Why... was I... on the... ground?" Momentarily forgetting what triggered the faint.
Then he remembered all too well. Good thing his face was already red from the sputtering, so Eira wouldn't see how truly embarrassed he was. First the scene by the well, then the kitchen, now fainting. This day could not end soon enough.
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Sangrei Friedn
Established
Roleplay posts: 26
Age: 25-ish
Physical Description: Sangrei looks to be in his mid-20s, and has silver-white hair which has grown increasingly from a short crop. His eyes are dark turquoise and he stands at about 6 feet tall, but tends to slouch when presenting himself. His body has various scars, mostly nicks and scratches which have healed over, lightly visible. His most prominent wound is a healed gash stretching from his left shoulderblade to the middle of his back.
Clothes and Equipment: The only things that Sangrei carries at all times is his sword, Stahl Schmertz. Stahl Schmertz is a steel broadsword, standard issue from Sangrei's old corps. It has seen its share of wear and tear, and has been reforged and resharpened a number of times. He refuses to abandon the sword out of sentimental value, and it hasn't given out on him yet either.
Stahl's scabbard carries the weight of his allies; whenever Sangrei loses a comrade, he tears a strip of cloth from their clothing and adds it to the wrapping around the sheath.
Sangrei's general attire consists of casual clothing, usually local to the area he is in. He frequently carries a knapsack and wallet, though this is not always the case.
Registered: Jan 16, 2018 19:48:59 GMT -8
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Post by Sangrei Friedn on May 17, 2018 21:38:34 GMT -8
Sangrei glanced back again, let out a small snicker and then gave a backwards wave. "Look like a cute lady next time ya come up and I'll consider it. I've had weirder." Finally, as he made it into the cottage, Sangrei dropped off the knapsack in a visible location for Eira to sort out, and followed his nose to the food in the kitchen. Grabbing a plate, he immediately dug in, scarfing down a few bites first before loading up again.
Feeling slightly better as soon as he swallowed, he walked back out with a bit more energy. He was still tired, but sleep could wait until any loose ends were tied up, and it was probably best that he checked in with Eira anyway. Sangrei made his way back down the path with his full plate, returning to where Amairgen was barely waking up.
"Morning, sunshine. Didja have a good dream?"
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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 May 24, 2018 13:12:36 GMT -8
The witch's hand was covering her mouth once again. "Goodness, Amairgen. You do not look alright! How do you feel? We should get you upstairs!"
She waved down her first employee, beckoning him over. "Let's get him into bed. I don't think he'll be able to get very far by himself. Oh, you poor thing. I should have realized that something was wrong and set the trap by myself!"
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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 May 29, 2018 20:33:43 GMT -8
Well, if Amairgen had any dignity left, it had deserted him long ago. The fussing of Eira, and the jab of Sangrei was simply too much. He could possibly deal with Eira, though so far today that had not proven true, because she wasn't deliberate in his causing his condition. But Sangrei, he knew, and took pleasure in it. And Amairgen did not know how to deal with that. He felt like yelling at him, telling him to keep to himself, but he didn't want to upset Eira. He didn't know how to deal with any of this, these feelings that caused his face to grow red, and attempted to take him down dangerous paths of thought. He simply didn't have any experience, any metric on how to best respond.
He only had one place he knew where to go, where maybe he could have some safety from the soft eyes of Eira, and the barbs of Sangrei.
His face still red, he jolted off the ground, still sputtering as he said, "I don't need any help. I need some breathing room, and I doubt I'm going to get it here." With that, he turned, and attempted a dignified walk towards the trees, which didn't last long. First, he found a stone with his foot that lay in the tall grass. Not expecting it, he fell face first, getting a mouthful of earth, and the stinging of stalks of grass in his eyes. A muffled, "shit" came from the heap in the grass, before Amairgen picked himself up again and walked to the tree line.
Once inside the dark refuge, he picked his pace up to a jog, attempting to make sure that if he was being followed, they would find him for some time. He found a tall oak tree, perfect for climbing and seeking shelter. Skittering up the trunk, he planted himself firmly high in the boughs and attempted to get a handle on himself.
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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 Aug 16, 2018 12:25:10 GMT -8
Several days later...
Eira had decided to sneak out of the house one evening and did so deftly. For how clumsy the woman was on occasion, she was dangerously quiet when she decided that she had something to do. After transforming the horse into an energetic shepherd and outfitting him with a carrier basket, the woman delved into the forest behind the house.
When she came back, it was several hours later with a hefty haul. Several jars filled to the brim with pink-gold honey and a small, white-haired young boy.
"Amairgen!" she called, waving toward the house. "We have a guest! How does dinner sound?"
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