Telemachon
Established
. . A̢̡̰̤͖̥̘̿́̑́͂̂̒͜ͅ n̶̨̮̘̥̱̾̋́́̕̚͜͜ g̷̨̙̼̥̩̠͍̘̯͊̐͑͂̂̓͐̀͗̋ ḙ̖̱̳̗̾͒̋͜͠͠ r̢̺͖̯͉̉͑̀̊̂̌̅̐͗ͅ . .
Roleplay posts: 49
Age: Unaccountable.
Physical Description: Telemachon is a being of enormous proportions, on the very edge of human possibility for musculature, height and build. The man has jet-black hair and eyes that have no discernible iris, simply one large dark pupil. Clean shaven on his face his hair is short but spiked and messy. He appears youthful and well-built in most manners with a "baby face" save for wrinkles, heavy bags under his sleepless red eyes, a strong set of cheeks, and appearance as though he was repeatedly whacked with both sharp and blunt sides of a shovel. His skin varies from youthful and smooth to rough and aged in texture, naturally quite pale but usually in a light beige-copper tint from his travels.
Clothes and Equipment: He has thick and ornate armour seemingly writhing to new cruel shapes when one is not looking upon it. Upon close examination it would appear to be part of one whole piece, partially explaining the occasional creak as its wearer moves. His only permanent weapons are two long spikes coming from the armour on either wrist, but he easily materializes weapons akin to his armour as an innate skill.
Player's online availability : All the time, but I might not be on when it says I am :[
Registered: Apr 20, 2018 2:42:56 GMT -8
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Post by Telemachon on May 4, 2018 6:20:55 GMT -8
"Very well, I shall take it." Telemachon said, placing several more of the old gold coins on the table to pay for the wine and the water that his companion wanted. Then he swiveled to Elvira with a creaking on his stool. He did his best to grin amiably even if it wasn't something that necessarily came naturally to him.
"So, you told me in the woodland that morality is subjective. Yet this is wrong. Can you not take the sum of all moral beliefs and between them see what remains typically the same, and what different? A... meta-morality, if you will. If I bit the throat out of your server right now, would it be morally defensible by the statement that morality is subjective?"
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Elvira Ravensborne
Established
Roleplay posts: 14
Age: Elvira appears to be in her very early twenties. {}-{}
Physical Description: Elvira is of middling height, with eyes of grey. Her skin is exceedingly pale and her smooth raven hair flows over her shoulders and halfway down her back.
{}-{}
Clothes and Equipment: Elvira wears a long black dress which falls almost to the ground, showing only her black boots below the hem. She also wears a hooded black cloak, hiding her face.
Registered: Apr 23, 2018 5:25:49 GMT -8
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Post by Elvira Ravensborne on May 7, 2018 0:35:35 GMT -8
Elvira smiled slightly at her companion's words. Turning slightly so as to better address him, she began, "One could, yes. However, that has yet to be done. I was referring to more...subtle acts that tearing out a throat. Say, for example, a wizard is pursuing a thief. He can either use his craft to speed himself up, or to strip his quarry of energy, leaving the thief unconscious on the ground and weakened for weeks afterwards. Is the latter option moral due to its use in preventing crime, or immoral due to the fact that it is a use of negative magical energy?"
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Telemachon
Established
. . A̢̡̰̤͖̥̘̿́̑́͂̂̒͜ͅ n̶̨̮̘̥̱̾̋́́̕̚͜͜ g̷̨̙̼̥̩̠͍̘̯͊̐͑͂̂̓͐̀͗̋ ḙ̖̱̳̗̾͒̋͜͠͠ r̢̺͖̯͉̉͑̀̊̂̌̅̐͗ͅ . .
Roleplay posts: 49
Age: Unaccountable.
Physical Description: Telemachon is a being of enormous proportions, on the very edge of human possibility for musculature, height and build. The man has jet-black hair and eyes that have no discernible iris, simply one large dark pupil. Clean shaven on his face his hair is short but spiked and messy. He appears youthful and well-built in most manners with a "baby face" save for wrinkles, heavy bags under his sleepless red eyes, a strong set of cheeks, and appearance as though he was repeatedly whacked with both sharp and blunt sides of a shovel. His skin varies from youthful and smooth to rough and aged in texture, naturally quite pale but usually in a light beige-copper tint from his travels.
Clothes and Equipment: He has thick and ornate armour seemingly writhing to new cruel shapes when one is not looking upon it. Upon close examination it would appear to be part of one whole piece, partially explaining the occasional creak as its wearer moves. His only permanent weapons are two long spikes coming from the armour on either wrist, but he easily materializes weapons akin to his armour as an innate skill.
Player's online availability : All the time, but I might not be on when it says I am :[
Registered: Apr 20, 2018 2:42:56 GMT -8
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Post by Telemachon on May 8, 2018 15:41:20 GMT -8
Another laugh came from Telemachon, this one hoarse and grating. "Oh Elvira my sweet child, it is whatever the wizard does first. Provided law doesn't doesn't account for the situation, the magician in question is free to do as he sees fit at the moment. I shall be honest I am a magician with little skill and sadly limited knowledge, but the point remains."
'Kavallerio' paused again to reflect on what he just said and then looked to Elvira. "Are you yourself gifted in the arcane? If so I fear I risk losing at this example. Regardless, in the time of our speech at the border there is little space for moral ambiguity. When one desires to enter a land their intentions are noble or vile as evident to themselves and those around them at first glance."
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Elvira Ravensborne
Established
Roleplay posts: 14
Age: Elvira appears to be in her very early twenties. {}-{}
Physical Description: Elvira is of middling height, with eyes of grey. Her skin is exceedingly pale and her smooth raven hair flows over her shoulders and halfway down her back.
{}-{}
Clothes and Equipment: Elvira wears a long black dress which falls almost to the ground, showing only her black boots below the hem. She also wears a hooded black cloak, hiding her face.
Registered: Apr 23, 2018 5:25:49 GMT -8
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Post by Elvira Ravensborne on May 13, 2018 7:11:32 GMT -8
Elvira smiled faintly at this. She spoke more quietly now, leaning in slightly. "I am indeed a user of the arcane arts." Then, at the same, louder volume as her earlier words, she continued. "In the basic sense of morality, my intentions are perfectly acceptable. However, in the view of certain persons who adhere to more strict codes, some of the actions that I might take if put in difficult situations might be seen as...wrong." The young woman ceased to speak for a few seconds, pondering the conversation. "Regardless, I do not plan on doing anything that would upset most people."
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Telemachon
Established
. . A̢̡̰̤͖̥̘̿́̑́͂̂̒͜ͅ n̶̨̮̘̥̱̾̋́́̕̚͜͜ g̷̨̙̼̥̩̠͍̘̯͊̐͑͂̂̓͐̀͗̋ ḙ̖̱̳̗̾͒̋͜͠͠ r̢̺͖̯͉̉͑̀̊̂̌̅̐͗ͅ . .
Roleplay posts: 49
Age: Unaccountable.
Physical Description: Telemachon is a being of enormous proportions, on the very edge of human possibility for musculature, height and build. The man has jet-black hair and eyes that have no discernible iris, simply one large dark pupil. Clean shaven on his face his hair is short but spiked and messy. He appears youthful and well-built in most manners with a "baby face" save for wrinkles, heavy bags under his sleepless red eyes, a strong set of cheeks, and appearance as though he was repeatedly whacked with both sharp and blunt sides of a shovel. His skin varies from youthful and smooth to rough and aged in texture, naturally quite pale but usually in a light beige-copper tint from his travels.
Clothes and Equipment: He has thick and ornate armour seemingly writhing to new cruel shapes when one is not looking upon it. Upon close examination it would appear to be part of one whole piece, partially explaining the occasional creak as its wearer moves. His only permanent weapons are two long spikes coming from the armour on either wrist, but he easily materializes weapons akin to his armour as an innate skill.
Player's online availability : All the time, but I might not be on when it says I am :[
Registered: Apr 20, 2018 2:42:56 GMT -8
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Post by Telemachon on May 16, 2018 16:27:41 GMT -8
Telemachon's brow furled in a mixture of confusion and pain as Elvira leaned in to speak, not sure if there was some sort of conspiracy going over his head for even a modicum of secrecy in a simple matter as one's skill in magic. "I would not judge you for your responses to threats. Violences, thefts of any sort, any abuses. These are all things one reacts to, these are all what one protects themselves from however possible, things where law is just a pathetic paper impeding the defence of mind body and soul." Reflectively Telemachon took a large swig from the expensive wine he had purchased as though gulping down water.
"I can understand, I myself go through such a thing. Abused in mind body and soul, crushed in the same, then thrown away. When something comes to harm it is dealt with to make sure it can never do such to me or the world once more. Such is understandable, you can see yes?" The words were still grating and loud as earlier, but had an almost childish hint of pleading in them.
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Elvira Ravensborne
Established
Roleplay posts: 14
Age: Elvira appears to be in her very early twenties. {}-{}
Physical Description: Elvira is of middling height, with eyes of grey. Her skin is exceedingly pale and her smooth raven hair flows over her shoulders and halfway down her back.
{}-{}
Clothes and Equipment: Elvira wears a long black dress which falls almost to the ground, showing only her black boots below the hem. She also wears a hooded black cloak, hiding her face.
Registered: Apr 23, 2018 5:25:49 GMT -8
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Post by Elvira Ravensborne on Jun 16, 2018 7:35:18 GMT -8
Elvira seemed to relax as Telemachon spoke, settling more comfortably into her chair and taking another sip of water.
"Yes, I understand...such logic is wise, yet not all see it as you do. I have learned that the hard way."
The young woman clenched her fingers around the drink she was holding, a look of anger crossing her face. "I was placed in a dangerous position, told my life would be in danger if I refused to comply. I used my skills to defend myself, but...those who had accosted me were left in a condition that led to others believing me to have attacked them for my own gain. I had no choice but to leave the land of my fathers, and can never return there unless I can take with me evidence to support my claims." Elvira's tone, while it was originally filled with rage, ended with a hint of grief. "Of course, the evidence and witnesses can only be found near to my home, where I cannot go. I have left that life behind, and rode here in search of happier places where I am better understood."
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Telemachon
Established
. . A̢̡̰̤͖̥̘̿́̑́͂̂̒͜ͅ n̶̨̮̘̥̱̾̋́́̕̚͜͜ g̷̨̙̼̥̩̠͍̘̯͊̐͑͂̂̓͐̀͗̋ ḙ̖̱̳̗̾͒̋͜͠͠ r̢̺͖̯͉̉͑̀̊̂̌̅̐͗ͅ . .
Roleplay posts: 49
Age: Unaccountable.
Physical Description: Telemachon is a being of enormous proportions, on the very edge of human possibility for musculature, height and build. The man has jet-black hair and eyes that have no discernible iris, simply one large dark pupil. Clean shaven on his face his hair is short but spiked and messy. He appears youthful and well-built in most manners with a "baby face" save for wrinkles, heavy bags under his sleepless red eyes, a strong set of cheeks, and appearance as though he was repeatedly whacked with both sharp and blunt sides of a shovel. His skin varies from youthful and smooth to rough and aged in texture, naturally quite pale but usually in a light beige-copper tint from his travels.
Clothes and Equipment: He has thick and ornate armour seemingly writhing to new cruel shapes when one is not looking upon it. Upon close examination it would appear to be part of one whole piece, partially explaining the occasional creak as its wearer moves. His only permanent weapons are two long spikes coming from the armour on either wrist, but he easily materializes weapons akin to his armour as an innate skill.
Player's online availability : All the time, but I might not be on when it says I am :[
Registered: Apr 20, 2018 2:42:56 GMT -8
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Post by Telemachon on Jun 16, 2018 21:03:31 GMT -8
Elvira's companion nodded in response, drawing cruel serrated shapes on glass with the sharpened point of his glove's fingertips. "That is a... painful paradox. I am fortunate in that the injustices of the past have slowly righted themselves, wrongdoers falling from their putrid grace, painfully killed by their own courts and followers or... well simply put ended by other means. I can only imagine your frustration at such a matter, when going forth for your only legitimate defence would hurt you is… horrid. I myself would only have such a fate sated by bloodshed."
Ending his idle carving he looked up to meet Elvira's eye once more with a tired sigh. "But you can rejoice in such a fate being far behind you. If you do not find it rude, what do you see in your near and far futures after this ordeal?"
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Elvira Ravensborne
Established
Roleplay posts: 14
Age: Elvira appears to be in her very early twenties. {}-{}
Physical Description: Elvira is of middling height, with eyes of grey. Her skin is exceedingly pale and her smooth raven hair flows over her shoulders and halfway down her back.
{}-{}
Clothes and Equipment: Elvira wears a long black dress which falls almost to the ground, showing only her black boots below the hem. She also wears a hooded black cloak, hiding her face.
Registered: Apr 23, 2018 5:25:49 GMT -8
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Post by Elvira Ravensborne on Jun 20, 2018 3:36:33 GMT -8
Elvira monitored her companion's carving with the corner of her eye, although her gaze remained focused on his face. "Yes, it was...painful, beyond imagination."
The young woman took a moment to respond, thinking out her words before uttering them. "Well, I would like to see the world and the things within it, perhaps to study different areas of magic. My own branch, while effective, can be limited in certain situations. However, I would also like to find a safe place; somewhere I can always return to and rest, somewhere I can make new friendships and be seen as what I am, not as an evil witch just because I use certain abilities which are generally associated with such people." Elvira seemed to grow more passionate as she explained her wishes, and ended a little out of breath. She paused, allowing Kavallerio to make a comment if he so wished.
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Telemachon
Established
. . A̢̡̰̤͖̥̘̿́̑́͂̂̒͜ͅ n̶̨̮̘̥̱̾̋́́̕̚͜͜ g̷̨̙̼̥̩̠͍̘̯͊̐͑͂̂̓͐̀͗̋ ḙ̖̱̳̗̾͒̋͜͠͠ r̢̺͖̯͉̉͑̀̊̂̌̅̐͗ͅ . .
Roleplay posts: 49
Age: Unaccountable.
Physical Description: Telemachon is a being of enormous proportions, on the very edge of human possibility for musculature, height and build. The man has jet-black hair and eyes that have no discernible iris, simply one large dark pupil. Clean shaven on his face his hair is short but spiked and messy. He appears youthful and well-built in most manners with a "baby face" save for wrinkles, heavy bags under his sleepless red eyes, a strong set of cheeks, and appearance as though he was repeatedly whacked with both sharp and blunt sides of a shovel. His skin varies from youthful and smooth to rough and aged in texture, naturally quite pale but usually in a light beige-copper tint from his travels.
Clothes and Equipment: He has thick and ornate armour seemingly writhing to new cruel shapes when one is not looking upon it. Upon close examination it would appear to be part of one whole piece, partially explaining the occasional creak as its wearer moves. His only permanent weapons are two long spikes coming from the armour on either wrist, but he easily materializes weapons akin to his armour as an innate skill.
Player's online availability : All the time, but I might not be on when it says I am :[
Registered: Apr 20, 2018 2:42:56 GMT -8
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Post by Telemachon on Jun 21, 2018 11:53:01 GMT -8
'Kavallerio' tried to give the most comforting smile - considering looked as though a shovel was repeatedly brought down upon it - that he could. "In these lands you could certainly find such. There are great repositories of knowledge here and magical institutes although I shall be honest I know little of them personally. You shan't be persecuted for sorcery, and... you have been able to confide these things in me." He hesitate, not sure if it would be right to tell Elvira that some companionship could be found in him if her home had so rejected her. "I would not hesitate to say that for now you have been successful."
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Elvira Ravensborne
Established
Roleplay posts: 14
Age: Elvira appears to be in her very early twenties. {}-{}
Physical Description: Elvira is of middling height, with eyes of grey. Her skin is exceedingly pale and her smooth raven hair flows over her shoulders and halfway down her back.
{}-{}
Clothes and Equipment: Elvira wears a long black dress which falls almost to the ground, showing only her black boots below the hem. She also wears a hooded black cloak, hiding her face.
Registered: Apr 23, 2018 5:25:49 GMT -8
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Post by Elvira Ravensborne on Jun 29, 2018 5:00:11 GMT -8
Elvira just managed to disguise her wince at his smile by drinking too much water and coughing. Once she had recovered, she smiled back at him. "Thank you, Kavallerio. I shall have to find out more about these lands and places, for I know but a little of them." The young woman hesitated herself, unsure of how to respond to his last words. He had been good to her, but she still only knew a little about him and didn't know the best way of replying to the final sentence.
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Telemachon
Established
. . A̢̡̰̤͖̥̘̿́̑́͂̂̒͜ͅ n̶̨̮̘̥̱̾̋́́̕̚͜͜ g̷̨̙̼̥̩̠͍̘̯͊̐͑͂̂̓͐̀͗̋ ḙ̖̱̳̗̾͒̋͜͠͠ r̢̺͖̯͉̉͑̀̊̂̌̅̐͗ͅ . .
Roleplay posts: 49
Age: Unaccountable.
Physical Description: Telemachon is a being of enormous proportions, on the very edge of human possibility for musculature, height and build. The man has jet-black hair and eyes that have no discernible iris, simply one large dark pupil. Clean shaven on his face his hair is short but spiked and messy. He appears youthful and well-built in most manners with a "baby face" save for wrinkles, heavy bags under his sleepless red eyes, a strong set of cheeks, and appearance as though he was repeatedly whacked with both sharp and blunt sides of a shovel. His skin varies from youthful and smooth to rough and aged in texture, naturally quite pale but usually in a light beige-copper tint from his travels.
Clothes and Equipment: He has thick and ornate armour seemingly writhing to new cruel shapes when one is not looking upon it. Upon close examination it would appear to be part of one whole piece, partially explaining the occasional creak as its wearer moves. His only permanent weapons are two long spikes coming from the armour on either wrist, but he easily materializes weapons akin to his armour as an innate skill.
Player's online availability : All the time, but I might not be on when it says I am :[
Registered: Apr 20, 2018 2:42:56 GMT -8
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Post by Telemachon on Jul 10, 2018 15:50:17 GMT -8
The man nodded in affirmation, lazily waving a mailed hand whilst speaking. "In the citadel you may find the grand library, and naturally the ministry of magics. I will be glad to guide you there." Noting the silence and hesitation of Elvira he laughed, giving another dismissive wave. "Worry not. I'm an old man, I don't soil myself but I am very much a fool. Don't take these words to heart, you shan't have my ire for simple matters - I was merely hoping to make a weary traveler comfortable in a new land."
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Bærnet Leonas
Established
Roleplay posts: 19
Registered: Apr 16, 2018 15:52:51 GMT -8
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Post by Bærnet Leonas on Jul 17, 2018 11:45:51 GMT -8
Leonas arrived at the tavern a short time later after leaving the bank. He was as happy as a junebug in July, but he was aware of where and what he was entering, so such childish facial expressions of joy would easily be submissive to his more serious and business like expressions. He tied his horse up, obviously standing out due to its color and size, and went inside. Without haste, he went to the bar, scanning area around him for any possible beings that he could hire. As his rump hit the seat, a gold coin hit the table.
"Any way a fella' could get a cold brew and a good meal with this?"
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Bærnet Leonas
Established
Roleplay posts: 19
Registered: Apr 16, 2018 15:52:51 GMT -8
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Post by Bærnet Leonas on Jul 21, 2018 10:16:22 GMT -8
After none showed up and the tavern remained empty for the time, Bærnet took his gold and left. He'd hop on the back of his horse and tap its sides with his heels, commanding the horse to go fast. A sad day for the tavern, having no business, and sadder for Bærnet as he still had no warriors.
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Vidkun Wewelsberg
Established
In Treue Ritterschaft
Roleplay posts: 48
Physical Description: No memorable features in particular. Most who see him recall him as 'suave,' but beyond that descriptions have ranged from dark-blond hair to jet black, from brown to blue to amber eyes, from a clean shaven face to one with thick-set stubble. The only things they can recall about him it the man in question being quite tall and athletic, with appearance that is undoubtedly 'dashing.'
Clothes and Equipment: Whatever's needed.
Registered: Apr 26, 2017 17:29:36 GMT -8
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Post by Vidkun Wewelsberg on Sept 25, 2018 18:22:53 GMT -8
Tired, weary but unbound Vidkun walked across into the tavern, wiping his boots and taking off his hat in a manner perhaps completely unheard of for the usual clientele of the Garrison tavern. Indeed he would also look a social class (or three) above most of the populace present with his fine leather clothing, decorated scabbard and aura. Those present would most likely refer to him as a "posh poof" or "bloody nasty bastard" depending on whether or not they had experience with the likes of him.
Regardless, he sat at a stool of the bar-counter and gave a smile well above the pay-grade of whoever had the shift. "Do you have any spirits to recommend? Preferably something stronger, but local."
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Chance
Committed
Roleplay posts: 77
Age: 20
Physical Description: A tall young man with scraggly hair and the beginnings of a beard. His build is lean and muscular, skin tanned from working as at docks and on boats for the past year.
Registered: Apr 27, 2015 17:46:53 GMT -8
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Post by Chance on Sept 25, 2018 19:28:58 GMT -8
After aimlessly walking through the city the young man eventually found his way to the other side. The Free City was an awesome sight to behold. Accompanied in the tour had been some flashes of familiarity. Like when he first saw the walls in the distance, or upon viewing the citadel up close. Passing an apparently closed clothing shop he experienced a discordant sense of deja vu. Besides these brief moments, no other memories remained. The young man had visited this city before but that part of his mind was broken.
Entering a more rugged part of town put the man at ease. Places like this could be dangerous but lacking in the facility to deal with the complex interactions of normal life the young man instinctually felt more comfortable in these types of areas. The thing was, he could not remember how to properly handle himself around civilized folks. He often forgot the names of people he was talking to, or what they were talking about, and if he ever chanced to meet that person again he would not remember. If anything, his ailment was getting worse. But he was unaware of this. Somehow he was in possession of quite a bit of money, and that was good.
Well, this seemed like a public establishment; a place to get food and perhaps a bed. The entryway was muddy and the door well used. Four well-armed guards watched the building. The man smiled. This was a place with alcohol. Entering he walked to the bar where he knew he would be served. Ironically, this he remembered. For some reason, whenever he was in a tavern the man felt that he was close to recollecting something.
"Ale, please, and whatever you've got to eat." He told the barmaid. A quick glance at the person sitting next to him was drawn out into a stare. Something about this man did not seem to fit. His clothes seemed to speak on their own while his features were hard to pin down. The blue eyes, at least, stood out. He kept staring.
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Vidkun Wewelsberg
Established
In Treue Ritterschaft
Roleplay posts: 48
Physical Description: No memorable features in particular. Most who see him recall him as 'suave,' but beyond that descriptions have ranged from dark-blond hair to jet black, from brown to blue to amber eyes, from a clean shaven face to one with thick-set stubble. The only things they can recall about him it the man in question being quite tall and athletic, with appearance that is undoubtedly 'dashing.'
Clothes and Equipment: Whatever's needed.
Registered: Apr 26, 2017 17:29:36 GMT -8
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Post by Vidkun Wewelsberg on Sept 26, 2018 11:18:51 GMT -8
As Vidkun sat at the counter, he lazily drummed a quick beat with his gloved hands, thoughtfully whistling under his breath. To those about him he would seem all the more out of place as he did not at all appear aware of the many people here who could supposedly liberate him of his more expensive belongings, or life. After a little he reached into a pocket and produced a quite vile looking stiletto, one causing death and pain in equal proportion but having far more ornamentation for most to consider practical. Quite harmlessly he began cleaning his nails; a short task for once his gloves were pulled off it was clear they were near perfectly maintained. Placing the blade down, he noted that another person had entered the tavern.
The man raised his blade, catching the light of the room and reflection upon it to make note of the newcomer. An odd looking bugger, he'd fit in for a local lad if not for the rather clueless look about him. Vidkun raised an eyebrow in consideration before shrugging and putting his blade down. For now it seemed that naught would disturb him, so he relaxed once more, momentarily closing his eyes for respite. But, that changed swiftly. A single eye opened by just the slightest fraction for him to discern the arrival looking upon him. The hunter's face did not move a muscle but he was glaring at the Chance . However, after intensive appraisal it seemed there was nothing nefarious about the intent behind the lost looking eyes, only something one could pity.
Quite sharply he opened both eyes completely and turned to the lad. "Oi! You've been ogling me enough. Either buy me a drink or look for someone less pretty." The words were said with intense and serious expression but followed by a wink and a smile as Vidkun pulled up a stool next to him. "Sit, lad. You look traveled."
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Chance
Committed
Roleplay posts: 77
Age: 20
Physical Description: A tall young man with scraggly hair and the beginnings of a beard. His build is lean and muscular, skin tanned from working as at docks and on boats for the past year.
Registered: Apr 27, 2015 17:46:53 GMT -8
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Post by Chance on Sept 26, 2018 22:09:25 GMT -8
It took a while to understand the meaning behind those first words. The wink had triggered an old memory of a similar night. Pain split the young man's head and he rubbed his temples in consternation. He put a hand on the bar to steady himself, then took a seat next to the stranger, "Traveled. Yes, I came here from the sea."
Waiting for his drink no other conversation would be forthcoming from the lad. Lost though he obviously was, he still had an agenda. At the moment that was to get drunk. In such a hazy mental state memories often flittered into view, lingering, before being lost again. This debauched revelation was important because the young man knew he was supposed to remember something about this city. When the ale came he took a big gulp and spoke again, "The sailor's grog was faster. Do they have that stuff here?"
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Vidkun Wewelsberg
Established
In Treue Ritterschaft
Roleplay posts: 48
Physical Description: No memorable features in particular. Most who see him recall him as 'suave,' but beyond that descriptions have ranged from dark-blond hair to jet black, from brown to blue to amber eyes, from a clean shaven face to one with thick-set stubble. The only things they can recall about him it the man in question being quite tall and athletic, with appearance that is undoubtedly 'dashing.'
Clothes and Equipment: Whatever's needed.
Registered: Apr 26, 2017 17:29:36 GMT -8
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Post by Vidkun Wewelsberg on Sept 27, 2018 8:02:27 GMT -8
As the lad seemed to lose balance Vidkun put a hand on his shoulder with a strong but gentle grip to keep him upright without much discomfort. "You alright there lad? You do not look quite well." He said, an eyebrow once more raised in question. The hunter took a quick swill from his drink, letting it slosh around his mouth before he swallowed. "I'll be honest, you don't look like sailor, nor as though you have much of a clue about from - or to - where you sailed." This was a rather soft way of saying he did not believe the lad was quite bright, all there in the head, or both.
Vidkun glanced at the rather abundant amount of spirits about the place, and then back at the man who was not apparently aware of them. Thus he settled for the reply: "I wouldn't go heavy on the drink if I were you lad. Really. A glass of ale or wine would suit you better. You got a name?"
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Chance
Committed
Roleplay posts: 77
Age: 20
Physical Description: A tall young man with scraggly hair and the beginnings of a beard. His build is lean and muscular, skin tanned from working as at docks and on boats for the past year.
Registered: Apr 27, 2015 17:46:53 GMT -8
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Post by Chance on Sept 27, 2018 14:14:54 GMT -8
"Well, I guess the ale is fine. I was on a boat and spent some time on the docks... I remember pulling on the lines." He looked at his hands which indeed had caluses on the palms. The fingers tips of the right hand we're curiously calused as well. More so then the rest of his hand. The finger tips had an unusual smoothness to them.
"But I don't know why I came here. My memory doesn't seem to work anymore. I'm not sure why. I, I don't even remember my name. They just called me 'boyo' on the ship. Say, was I sent here to meet you?" A gleam of understanding shimmered behind the young man's eyes.
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Vidkun Wewelsberg
Established
In Treue Ritterschaft
Roleplay posts: 48
Physical Description: No memorable features in particular. Most who see him recall him as 'suave,' but beyond that descriptions have ranged from dark-blond hair to jet black, from brown to blue to amber eyes, from a clean shaven face to one with thick-set stubble. The only things they can recall about him it the man in question being quite tall and athletic, with appearance that is undoubtedly 'dashing.'
Clothes and Equipment: Whatever's needed.
Registered: Apr 26, 2017 17:29:36 GMT -8
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Post by Vidkun Wewelsberg on Sept 27, 2018 16:42:40 GMT -8
Vidkun nodded approvingly at the lad taking his advice. If he couldn't remember his name he most certainly didn't need to turn his brain to mush with drink. But as Vidkun took another relaxing pull from his drink his eyes widened as he noted some more features of the lad. Yet the hunter did not remark upon this just yet, no... he had to mull this over when taken into consideration with the lad's other traits.
Instead, he put his drink down with a refreshed "ah" and smiled, not speaking or moving for a good few moments as the young man spoke. "You could say that, yes...." The words were said without any emotion, but interanlly the beginnings of a smile were starting in Vidkun. "Tell me boy, you know how to fight?" As the words were said Vidkun swung a fist at the young man to see how the lad reacted, though naturally stopping it should he do naught to protect himself.
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