Foxgloves
Committed
Roleplay posts: 77 
Physical Description: Foxgloves is shaped like a man for the most part, tall and lanky. He wears a long coat with innumerable pockets and a hood with two long points that flop about like a rabbit's ears. The fingers of his gloves are long and thin, and his pointed boots are unadorned. Most notably, he wears a white mask, behind which only darkness can be seen. He is very light, as though stuffed nothing but cotton and cobwebs.
Registered: May 14, 2019 20:08:06 GMT -8
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Post by Foxgloves on Jul 6, 2019 16:47:34 GMT -8
"What's wrong with a few pebbles?" asked Foxgloves. "They won't hurt it any more than the water does. Besides, the evidence is alive and moving. It's tampering with itself! Maybe if I throw enough pebbles, it'll un-tamper it. Who knows? It's all a roll of the dice. Don't you like to gamble, to take risks? It seems like the sort of thing you'd like."
He chucked another pebble at the hand, causing it to thrash once more. Foxgloves chuckled again, but tossed away the rest of his pebbles. Climbing back up the tree, he sat in the branch again and looked down at her from his perch, kicking his legs merrily like a schoolchild on a swing.
"Does it count as graverobbing if they're not in a grave?" he asked. "I only get the highest quality extra parts, and that means they have to be fresh. As fresh as possible. You wouldn't buy a sweet roll that had been buried in the dirt for who-knows-how-long, would you? It's the same way with legs."
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a sweet roll covered in sticky frosting and tossed it to Helena.
"Don't worry," he said. "This one's fresh. I picked it up this morning from Mr. Barclay the baker. Do you like sweet things? I sure hope so."
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Helena Sigrid Sattler
Established
Roleplay posts: 37
Age: 27
Physical Description: Helena is a tall woman, standing at six-foot-two, and has a strong, toned physique from years of training. She has long blonde hair, often tied into a braid, icy blue eyes, and a pale complexion. Her features are rather pretty, but she sports her fair share of scars, most hidden under her armour except for one that intersects her right eyebrow, and one small scar on the left side of her bottom lip.
Clothes and Equipment: Helena was brought up a commoner, so when outside of armour she doesn't bother with fancy attires that her wages could afford. Instead, she keeps to a regular old green tunic, one her mother had stitched Northern patterns in years prior, and a pair of thick, light blue trousers. Of course, even in her commoner garb, she keeps it clean (unless she's been indulging in her homely hobbies.)
However, as an esteemed sergeant of the guard, she is often seen in her set of plate armour. The armour is well made, very protective, but not overly flashy. As with most guardsman, her armour's look is fairly standard. No intricate designs, no flashy gems or trim, but instead just the standard issue lines and patterns across the metal work. The set is complete with a visored barbute helmet, with two eye holes and a small cross cut into one cheek.
The armour sports a tabard, designed with Isran colours and the nation's crest. It splits at the belt and runs down he greaves' thighs, revealing the chainmail skirts in between.
However, as a sergeant, she is granted just a little of her own touch. The trim around the neck of her breast plate sits a fur coif, one sported mostly by the handful of guards of Northern decent holding a high enough rank to get away with it.
For weapons, Helena has spent many years training with many different varieties, finding what suits her, but also for survival on the battlefield. Her philosophy is that, no matter how good a fighter you are, you can still be disarmed, so you should know how to fight with anything.
So, her primary choice in weapon is a longsword, sheathed on one side. As backup, she carries a kite shield on her back, and a one handed axe on her other side.
Allegiances: Isra and the Empress
Player's online availability : Somewhat available.
Registered: May 7, 2019 17:15:04 GMT -8
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Post by Helena Sigrid Sattler on Jul 9, 2019 23:19:28 GMT -8
Never accept sweet rolls from strangers, that's what her parents had taught her. But was Foxgloves really a stranger? Well yes, but not the kind that would tamper with a sweet roll in that way. Who knows, he probably did actually pick it up that very morning, if he's to be believed. Honestly, he had thrown a lot of what she did and didn't believe out of whack, something she isn't used to.
"Just stop it," she says with a heavy sign. "No more pebbles. Thank you." At least he stopped doing that, it was really creeping Helena out. Her eyes follow him back up the tree once more, asking the same question she had before, who and what is Foxgloves? Where does he come from? Why doesn't she feel as uneasy as before? God's, this is getting confusing.
Does it count as grave robbing if they aren't in a grave? A good question, but the sentiment is probably the same, really. "Corpse nabbing then," she says. "It's not polite to take parts of someone's loved ones, you know. They would probably prefer to bury them whole." In fact, in some cultures they aren't so certain that a soul goes to their heaven if the body is not whole. Thankfully, hers doesn't, probably because of the Northern tendency to use axes, perfect for lopping off limbs.
"And no, I don't gamble," she says as she crossed her arms over her breastplate. "My hard earned money is my own to spend, not for some rigged gambling house owner to spend on whores." Taking a chance though? She isn't as adverse to that, really.
"Sarge!" A distant voice calls out from down the path.
"Seems my men are coming back," she says, looking back up at Foxgloves. "I would get moving."
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Foxgloves
Committed
Roleplay posts: 77
Physical Description: Foxgloves is shaped like a man for the most part, tall and lanky. He wears a long coat with innumerable pockets and a hood with two long points that flop about like a rabbit's ears. The fingers of his gloves are long and thin, and his pointed boots are unadorned. Most notably, he wears a white mask, behind which only darkness can be seen. He is very light, as though stuffed nothing but cotton and cobwebs.
Registered: May 14, 2019 20:08:06 GMT -8
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Post by Foxgloves on Jul 30, 2019 19:22:13 GMT -8
"I don't see anything wrong with corpse nabbing," said Foxgloves, swinging down to hang from the branch by his knees. "It's not as though they're using it. Besides, even if they don't go to heaven afterwards, how is that any less humane than locking them up while they're still alive? Isn't that what you do, Helena dear? Anyways, I'm sure anyone that finds themselves on the wrong end of that halberd of yours ends up less than whole."
He watched Helena for a moment, points of his hood flopping down as he hung upside-down. As the voice of the other officers called out from the woods, they twitched gently towards the source of the sound.
"Who's to say that whoever you end up spending your money with doesn't spend it on whores themselves?" he asked. "Lots of people visit whores. If you really don't want your money going to them, you should buy all your goods from me instead. I have little interest in buying anything that I can't take home and keep. I'll get going now, but I'm sure I'll see you again soon. Come find me, or I'll find you. Do you like dancing? I love it so."
Relaxing his legs, he let himself fall from the branch. He dropped headfirst into a large bush, vanishing entirely among the dense leaves. If Helena looked into the bush, she would find no trace whatsoever of the strange peddler, with only the sweet roll and the wooden soldier to prove that he'd been anything more than a figment of her imagination.
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Helena Sigrid Sattler
Established
Roleplay posts: 37
Age: 27
Physical Description: Helena is a tall woman, standing at six-foot-two, and has a strong, toned physique from years of training. She has long blonde hair, often tied into a braid, icy blue eyes, and a pale complexion. Her features are rather pretty, but she sports her fair share of scars, most hidden under her armour except for one that intersects her right eyebrow, and one small scar on the left side of her bottom lip.
Clothes and Equipment: Helena was brought up a commoner, so when outside of armour she doesn't bother with fancy attires that her wages could afford. Instead, she keeps to a regular old green tunic, one her mother had stitched Northern patterns in years prior, and a pair of thick, light blue trousers. Of course, even in her commoner garb, she keeps it clean (unless she's been indulging in her homely hobbies.)
However, as an esteemed sergeant of the guard, she is often seen in her set of plate armour. The armour is well made, very protective, but not overly flashy. As with most guardsman, her armour's look is fairly standard. No intricate designs, no flashy gems or trim, but instead just the standard issue lines and patterns across the metal work. The set is complete with a visored barbute helmet, with two eye holes and a small cross cut into one cheek.
The armour sports a tabard, designed with Isran colours and the nation's crest. It splits at the belt and runs down he greaves' thighs, revealing the chainmail skirts in between.
However, as a sergeant, she is granted just a little of her own touch. The trim around the neck of her breast plate sits a fur coif, one sported mostly by the handful of guards of Northern decent holding a high enough rank to get away with it.
For weapons, Helena has spent many years training with many different varieties, finding what suits her, but also for survival on the battlefield. Her philosophy is that, no matter how good a fighter you are, you can still be disarmed, so you should know how to fight with anything.
So, her primary choice in weapon is a longsword, sheathed on one side. As backup, she carries a kite shield on her back, and a one handed axe on her other side.
Allegiances: Isra and the Empress
Player's online availability : Somewhat available.
Registered: May 7, 2019 17:15:04 GMT -8
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Post by Helena Sigrid Sattler on Aug 1, 2019 2:44:48 GMT -8
"Not for life," Helena interjects when Foxgloves mentions her arresting folks. "And if it IS for life, they deserve it." She expects that to fall on deaf ears though, Foxgloves seemed to be on a roll. "And I don't follow any of those beliefs. Whole or not, I believe if you do good, you get to paradise after death regardless." She looks to her halberd briefly and shrugs. "I suppose, but that's only in extreme cases. I haven't had to fight in months." Which is the truth, and even then it was with her fists. The only thing she's fought with weapons recently is a training dummy.
As Foxgloves speaks again, she listens. "I didn't mean it like that," she says. "What I meant is that I will not lose my money to someone who does not deserve it. Anyone who gets my money is someone I am buying something from. When I have my goods and services, I don't give a damn where they spend it." There's a big difference between giving away said money in outlandish hopes of getting more back, and spending it wisely. "And I don't think you're selling anything I want."
Her eyebrow raises at his last question, but before she can answer, he's gone. Disappeared without a trace. Helena blinks several times before checking her pocket, just in case. Yep, the toy soldier and sweet roll are still in there… but where…
"Sarn't," a guard calls out as he crosses the threshold and into view, one of the Empress' finest that she had rode in with. "Quite a ride to town. Lots of… strange goings on."
"You're not wrong," Helena says in reply. "Set up a crime scene here, I've seen some of my own strange goings on. Send someone back to the city, we'll need our apothecaries out here. Something's up with that water and we need to find out what."
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Hours layer, Helena finds herself at her dining table in her cozy home, just outside the city. The fire is burning, her blinds are freshly closed, and the day is finally winding down. Her hair is still damp from her after dinner bath, and she wears little more than her house robe and a pair of slippers, finally finding comfort after a long day.
Is her long day over though? Unfortunately, no. Sitting on the table is a small book, largely empty for now, a quill and ink, and a half eaten sweet roll. Reports wait for no man, unfortunately, and after today's festivities, it's likely she would be at it for a while.
Regardless, she writes her report for the day. Finding the pond, the vials her team found nearby, the questioning of the townsfolk, and the beginning of the murder investigation. The necromancy is looking to be accidental, a combination of discarded, 'failed' potions from the local apothecary, but that's not for her to decide.
What IS for her to decide is wether or not to include a certain character in her little screenplay. She leans back in her chair and sighs…. Before shaking her head. "What are you doing…?" She whispers to herself. "Eh… he's not important to this case." It seems Foxgloves is safe for another day.
Would she regret omitting Foxgloves from her report? Well, she suspects he just happened to be there, and not an actual suspect.
It's not long before she looks over the report and yawns. This is what her life had come to, eh? Her aspirations of climbing up this ladder towards guarding the empress herself… but from who? She did have a reputation, or at least rumours were persistent about her ravenous lust. Would Helena be guarding her, or her entourage? Her sex cave? She shakes her head loose of those thoughts, they're not appropriate to be thinking about. Focus on the job at hand.
Which is boring, she decides, and guarding a hallway in the palace sounds just as boring now that she thinks about it. Yes, there's a pay rise and prestige, but it doesn't mean anything if she doesn't get to use the skills she spent so long building. But is the endless paperwork the way to get there? Is being spat on by drunks and berated by foolish criminals worth it? The only fighting she gets to do is training, and even that's lost its luster.
She sits back in her chair and lets one leg swing under the table, her slipper dangling from her toes. At this rate, she would be doing paperwork forever. It's very good quality paperwork, but the only prestige she'd earn this way is with the clerks who would be filing it for nobody to ever see again once the case is closed.
She looks up to the plain plaster ceiling above her and sighs. Surely there's more? Something better for her skills?
If only she had a sign…
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