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Post by Fallen Nation of Esdara on Feb 16, 2019 19:54:22 GMT -8
The streets of Esdar'ai are a shining white, weaving between buildings of delicate construction. Many rivers flow through Esdar'ai, and the city is filled with ponds and lakes of varying sizes, leaving a number of bridges to arch gracefully over canals and across the ponds and lakes. Interesting places and focal locations of the city are the Plaza of Aeleria, the Esdaran Market, and the Blade and Grace Tavern. Named for a former High Priestess who gave her life to save the people of Esdara, and whose statue dominates the circular area, this square is an important meeting place for the city's denizens, as it provides direct access to both the High Church of Esdar, the Council Hall (where the Council of Winds meets), and the path to the Palace of the Skies. Notices can be found here posted to columns and walls, and a number of fountains ring the area, as well as small patches of garden and benches on which to sit. he main market of Esdara rests in the heart of the city, near the Plaza of Aeleria. Filled with shops selling goods of all sorts, it's a thriving hub for the nation's economy. Popular with the Zanora Riders (and the other military of Esdara) the Blade & Grace Tavern is well known for its exceptional food, even better spirits, and relaxed atmosphere. Located just off the Plaza of Aeleria, it's near unto the Zanora Rider barracks. |
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Post by Fallen Nation of Esdara on Aug 15, 2019 17:18:43 GMT -8
Victorious in their endeavors at the farming town of Cyrili, following their rapid departure on horseback, Feanor Vala and his forces, and Hansel von Dietzhoff and his knights, would find themselves arriving at the gates of Esdar'ai roughly at the same time as Fenrir Skargard, Alaric Marcellius, Gabriel Taurtoya, Thaelyn Mortris, and Senior Wingman Dasyra Ushael, who were able to make their journey much more quickly thanks to the shorter distance and the blessing of flight on the backs of the Zanora. After dropping off the heroes, the Zanora and their riders took to the sky, both to scout ahead and to begin the assault on the forces of Xoilun already gathered within the city. It appeared to be quite the collection of foes, given the abundance of sound coming from beyond the city walls, and would no doubt give them quite the challenge. Their destination, the Palace of the Skies, lay at the far side of the city, white walls and golden spires gleaming in the sunlight. |
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Fenrir Skargard
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 196 
Age: 29
Physical Description: Fenrir is a large Arctic Werewolf, with fur as white as the snow that plagues his habitat. His paws and muzzle are stained a slight pinkish color from the bloody nature of his food, primarily Caribou and Mountain Seal. His yellow eyes are predatory, and would be terrifying to see in the darkness of a cave or blizzard. He stands roughly 7ft tall, and weighs nearly 300lbs. His fur, claws, and teeth are immaculately well-maintained, as the Wolf believes that keeping oneself clean is foremost in respecting another, for if you do not respect yourself, you cannot respect others.
Clothes and Equipment: He wields the mighty sword White Fang, a Frost-Enchanted Sword he took from the lifeless corpse of a White Witch whom had promised him the sword, then tried to kill him with. The sword, imbued with the blood of the witch, gives him abilities similar to hers, mainly focusing on cold and frost related abilities. His legs are covered by plate armor, and his left arm is covered in a gauntlet with fingers ending in wicked looking claws. The gauntlet is inscribed with more Frost Runes, giving it similar, albeit less powerful, abilities to White Fang.
Registered: May 30, 2016 8:38:38 GMT -8
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Post by Fenrir Skargard on Aug 18, 2019 6:02:37 GMT -8
Fenrir stepped off the eagle, doing his best to ignore the slight shaking in his legs. Turns out, he was not a very big fan of flying and was very grateful to be on the ground again.
"Quite the formidable city." He muttered, looking towards the more strategically minded individuals. Fenrir was a mighty warrior, quite likely the most formidable there, but he was no strategist and had no experience leading more than a dozen warriors at a time.
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Alaric Marcellius
Established
Roleplay posts: 17
Age: 29
Physical Description: Quite tall at just above 200 centimetres, Alaric has a moderate peachy complexion that appears pale when in contrast with his jet black hair and nearly black brown eyes. His otherwise pristine patrician face bears a scar coming from both blade and flame at the bottom of the right side of his jaw. Despite his height and large frame & build the man is not particularly imposing, with an often unmoving expression.
Clothes and Equipment: Full gambeson, chainmail and plate blessed to stop even the maulings of dragons and giants. Typically bearing a quite large flambard and a rapier for sidearm, his mount will carry a lance, crossbow and kite shield.
Registered: Feb 11, 2019 16:53:19 GMT -8
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Post by Alaric Marcellius on Aug 20, 2019 9:52:55 GMT -8
Disembarking from the Zanora the Knights assembled, examining the field of battle. Something told him after a few moments that this would be better fought as a siege, starving out the defenders. Of course no doubt the locals wanted to take it fast for the symbolic value and legitimizing the rule of whoever would be the new leader of Esdara, but he wasn't exactly happy about going into this death-trap for the ambitions of some. But he had made commitment to this and he'd see it through, even if it was just for that little shite that brought him on.
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Hansel von Dietzhoff
Dedicated
π―π π»ππππ π―πππππ
Roleplay posts: 400
Age: 17
Physical Description: Quite tall at 6'1, Hansel has a pale complexion coupled with nearly white blonde hair and a set of heterochromatic eyes. His boyish features are well defined but covered in many small scars. The young man's frame is best described as sinewy with significant muscle placed upon a relatively thin body. Across his body one would find many cosmetics scars, brands and a few tattoos be it of scripture or strange tribal symbolism. However most noticeable are the two large wings on either shoulder blade, and the cross on his chest and back crossing his breast from stomach to neck.
Clothes and Equipment: Typically Hans will wear a bodyglove of buunvar leather, over which is blessed chainmail and plate. His preferred weapon is a moderately sized Executioner's sword of Hagbane silver with the end rounded and sharpened to at least pierce flesh. However for sidearms he carries a powerful longbow and an ensemble of Holy falchion and dagger.
The lad also will usually possess a mount; either a blessed horse, pegasus or hyppogryph. The beast will always carry heavy barding and bears a lance and kite shield for its rider.
Registered: Aug 30, 2016 13:29:47 GMT -8
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Post by Hansel von Dietzhoff on Aug 20, 2019 10:07:29 GMT -8
Hans rode along with the Knights that followed him to Esdara, the lad quite dismayed. If the town hadn't who he was looking for, and a quick consultation with Alaric revealed the man hadn't found Livilla either he didn't know what to say or do. The likelihood she was in the city was... well, he wasn't very optimistic. If this was the stronghold of the enemy then he couldn't see how or why she would survive there. The world passed him buy as Hansel thought only of vengeful violence upon the people inside the fortress. He tuned everything out save for a potential order to go in and get to the fighting.
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Feanor Vala
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 132
Age: 79
Physical Description: He is a tall, sturdily built elf, with long blonde hair and hazel eyes. He is a bit taller than most Esdaran males, at a height between 6'2" and 6'3". His typical elfin figure is a lot stronger than it appears, and is clearly battle-scarred from years in the service.
Clothes and Equipment: His equipment is the basic gray-silver-whitish armor of the Esdaran army. A longbow with an accompanying arrow quiver is always slung across his back when not in use, and a battleaxe is always found at his hip or in his hand. Daggers are hidden in his boots and one inside of his belt, in addition to additional straps across his armor that can be used to stow and/or hide additional equipment as necessary.
Registered: Jun 25, 2016 16:11:26 GMT -8
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Post by Feanor Vala on Sept 2, 2019 6:52:40 GMT -8
The forces of Mithlonde marched in good order towards the besieged city, led by Prince Feanor, now mounted on a magnificent horse. His Rangers had changed their muted garb for heavier armor and horses, resplendent in both quality and appearance as they marched alongside their Prince. Behind them came a battalion of Mithlondian warriors, armed with spear, shield and sword. Another group also marched with bows, swords at their hip as they gazed at the city.
Feanor reined in as the heroes from eyries began to land, offering a salute to Dasyra.
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Gabriel Taurtoya
Established
Roleplay posts: 32
Age: 24
Physical Description: Standing just under six even, lean and lithe, with feathery chestnut hair that is often quite messy. His brown eyes could be described as soulful, his features slightly cherubic and youthful as he is unable to grow a beard. Something that bothers him a fair bit.
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Clothes and Equipment: A leather jerkin for protection, his father's rapier, and traveling supplies.
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Registered: Jan 12, 2018 17:10:29 GMT -8
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Post by Gabriel Taurtoya on Sept 2, 2019 15:31:25 GMT -8
Between his skill with hammer and chisel and Thaelyn's magic, the shackles on the great eagles had been easily dealt with. Though her magic had let her do far more, far more swiftly than he. On top of that she'd managed to fix his blade with her blood magic. The Bruja was something else and he could not shack the feeling that he was still under-equipped for this mission. He was nothing but a simple mercenary yet here he was fighting in a war in the skies with a mighty werewolf, a skilled knight commander, and a blood witch with power beyond his ken. It was enough to make a blacksmith's son feel like a side note but perhaps he could figure out some role to play in all of this as they approach the city.
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Senior Wingman Dasyra Ushael
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 127 
Age: 29
Physical Description: Tall and sturdy, Dasyra is a lightly muscled and curvaceous woman. Light-skinned and with strong, striking facial features, she stands out in a crowd not only for her height - taller than the average Esdaran woman at 5'9" - but for her strikingly violet hair. Said hair usually worn tamed back into a long braid that falls nearly to her knees. She has pale blue eyes that are piercing, and often filled with mirth - or determination.
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Clothes and Equipment: It's very rare to see Dasyra outside of her armor/uniform - which consists of lots of silver-edged greyish-white plate and blue fabric - but on the rare occasions it happens, she tends toward comfortable clothing in shades of blue and grey, with sturdy brown boots and fingerless blue gloves. When on duty, she carries a long halberd, and it never leaves her side while she's in her armor. She has little in the way of personal effects, and wears no jewelry. When off duty, she tends to carry a small sword and a set of daggers.
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Player's online availability : Variable; usually afternoons and evenings. (PST)
Registered: Apr 11, 2016 12:59:25 GMT -8
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Post by Senior Wingman Dasyra Ushael on Sept 7, 2019 17:01:48 GMT -8
It was reluctantly that Dasyra parted with her own winged companion, sending the Zanora back to the skies after an affectionate stroking of the feathers between his intelligent eyes, and then she was turning her gaze toward the city and its walls, seemingly waiting for something.
When a trio of Zanora riders came wheeling above waving blue pennants from their long-hafted weapons, she grinned, and turned to face those arrayed behind her.
"The people of Esdar'ai have risen up against the forces of Xoilun. The demon's minions are many, but outnumbered regardless. We should be able to fight our way through to the Palace and free the Blade and Crown without too much difficulty. Make haste, heroes; victory awaits us."
Taking her own words to heart, Dasyra darted toward the city gates which had begun to creak open in front of them, permitting entrance to the city for those who would see it freed from darkness. She slipped inside and bolted down the nearest street, aiming for the golden gleam of the Palace in the near distance.
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Thaelyn Mortris
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 310
Age: 22
Physical Description: At 5'7", Thaelyn is just above average height for a woman, with a slender build that makes her just shy of willowy. Slight curves and a womanly shape keep her from looking boyish, if only barely. She has long red hair that falls to her knees, and rich crimson eyes that are usually filled with curiosity, set in a face with delicate features.
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Clothes and Equipment: Typically, Thaelyn wears a set of white and blood red armor which is inscribed inside with a complex series of magical runes. This provides her armor with a strength that belies its lightness, as well as serving as a sort of magical buffer that wards off most spells. She also carries a spear, or perhaps it's a staff - she seems to use it as a combination of both, using it both to fight and to channel her own magical abilities.
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Player's online availability : Evenings. (EST)
Registered: Aug 15, 2016 12:11:27 GMT -8
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Post by Thaelyn Mortris on Sept 7, 2019 17:08:11 GMT -8
Thaelyn had nearly exhausted herself to the point of danger in freeing the giant eagles, but thankfully she was given a chance for respite. Downing several potions to close her wounds and replenish her blood, she'd been able to take a fitful nap on the big raptor's back as they soared toward the capital city. At least she was awakened in time enough to not be groggy when they finally landed.
Her thoughts were much in line with those of the grumpy knight as she eyed the city. A siege would be longer but more efficient, if this was where most of the enemy's numbers were holed up. Imagine her surprise when Dasyra made her announcement. Huh. So the people of the city were still living in there? And they were rebelling to aid in their own home's liberation efforts. Interesting. Casually slicing open her palm on her spearhead, she rambled over to Gabriel.
"I'll watch out for you if you'll agree to do the same. I'm not as good at physical combat as I probably should be."
It was the truth, but there was another truth she was hiding. Once they freed this nation's leaders, she fully intended to throw herself back into the fracas in the city proper, and annihilate the rest of this Xoilun's creatures. And hopefully she'd meet her match in the process. She was so tired and just wanted it all to end already.
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Cult of Xoilun
Established
Roleplay posts: 23
Registered: Feb 4, 2019 21:09:39 GMT -8
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Post by Cult of Xoilun on Sept 7, 2019 17:13:48 GMT -8
Unfortunately for the cultists and the various twisted creatures of Xoilun's make inhabiting the city, what Dasyra had reported was true: The people of Esdar'ai had been biding their time, pretending to succumb to Xoilun's rule, waiting for the chance to rise up and topple their oppressors. The various servants of the Demon had been taken by surprise when it happened, and as such, corpses both human and monster littered the streets. They were outnumbered and not known for their organization, which meant that the early hours of the resistance had put a serious dent in their population.
Thus it was that the lowlander heroes would find the first several blocks of their passage unimpeded by any living opposition, until finally happening upon the Plaza of Aeleria. There, Esdarans of all ages were fighting against cultists and creatures, many bearing weapons no more advanced than broken pieces of wood they were using as spears. Xoilun's forces were hard-pressed, being slowly forced backwards as they tried to hold their position between the forces of light and the path to the Palace.
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Alaric Marcellius
Established
Roleplay posts: 17
Age: 29
Physical Description: Quite tall at just above 200 centimetres, Alaric has a moderate peachy complexion that appears pale when in contrast with his jet black hair and nearly black brown eyes. His otherwise pristine patrician face bears a scar coming from both blade and flame at the bottom of the right side of his jaw. Despite his height and large frame & build the man is not particularly imposing, with an often unmoving expression.
Clothes and Equipment: Full gambeson, chainmail and plate blessed to stop even the maulings of dragons and giants. Typically bearing a quite large flambard and a rapier for sidearm, his mount will carry a lance, crossbow and kite shield.
Registered: Feb 11, 2019 16:53:19 GMT -8
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Post by Alaric Marcellius on Sept 7, 2019 22:15:02 GMT -8
As Dasyra descended and gave her news Alaric nodded, mollified. If the enemy had people rising against them and were outnumbered, then ultimately the motley group was just the cleanup crew. He relaxed a little, fear of fatality leaving him quite quickly. The Paladin gave a few experimental flourishes of his two handed blade, getting tuned to its balance in preparation of violence.
He followed the group, uneasy of the initially empty city. It was a good place to hide archers and the likes to give him a poisoned arrow in the slits of his helmet. But as at last battle was neared he along with his Brothers laughed at the sight of what rabble they were fighting. He took of his helmet on what he knew was an arrogant display, but he didn't really care. He'd prefer to smell the blood as is and get better vision of the foe to end this business quicker.
As one he charged with his fellow Knights, aiming his blade high." Skuuuuuuuuulll-Sspliiiteeeeeeeerrrr!" they cried, rushing past the Esdaran natives to get into the fray. They swung their weapons in wide violent strikes at eye level, aiming to halve heads in a more gruesome and frightening display than the commonly accepted beheading at the neck. But though for now they fought with brute force and speed rather than technique and grace, they didn't madly try to rack up the highest kill count. Rather they were trying to clear a way forward so the rest of the party and other trained fighters could quickly follow and ascend to the Palace in hopes of a quick end to the business rather than fighting through the entire enemy horde. |
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Hansel von Dietzhoff
Dedicated
π―π π»ππππ π―πππππ
Roleplay posts: 400
Age: 17
Physical Description: Quite tall at 6'1, Hansel has a pale complexion coupled with nearly white blonde hair and a set of heterochromatic eyes. His boyish features are well defined but covered in many small scars. The young man's frame is best described as sinewy with significant muscle placed upon a relatively thin body. Across his body one would find many cosmetics scars, brands and a few tattoos be it of scripture or strange tribal symbolism. However most noticeable are the two large wings on either shoulder blade, and the cross on his chest and back crossing his breast from stomach to neck.
Clothes and Equipment: Typically Hans will wear a bodyglove of buunvar leather, over which is blessed chainmail and plate. His preferred weapon is a moderately sized Executioner's sword of Hagbane silver with the end rounded and sharpened to at least pierce flesh. However for sidearms he carries a powerful longbow and an ensemble of Holy falchion and dagger.
The lad also will usually possess a mount; either a blessed horse, pegasus or hyppogryph. The beast will always carry heavy barding and bears a lance and kite shield for its rider.
Registered: Aug 30, 2016 13:29:47 GMT -8
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Post by Hansel von Dietzhoff on Sept 7, 2019 22:28:11 GMT -8
As the purple haired soldier spoke Hans brightened up somewhat, the words just barely getting through his blood-lusting consciousness. There was after all a chance of his quarry still being alive and of the long awaited reunion happening, a thought just slightly reducing the red in his vision and the ringing in his ears.
He walked along quietly, arming blade in one hand and dagger in the other.
Hansel looked through the foe as he approached, scanning the crowds of newfound comrades. He didn't see her amongst them, but a few inklings of hope remained, stubborn to the last. His Brothers seemed intent on quickly ending what was going on but he had other plans. Though he knew he'd probably get an arse kicking for abandoning the other Knights that was but a trifle. Instead he ducked into the thick of the fighting with the Esdaran militia. He fought viciously getting in light but vile stabs or slashes to the gut that would leave an enemy alive to spend their last moments in suffering, actions to help him get rid of the (hopefully) premature desire for revenge.
But all the while he mad de sure he scanned his impromptu comrades for a face he still remembered. A memory perfect in spite of years passed. |
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Fenrir Skargard
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 196
Age: 29
Physical Description: Fenrir is a large Arctic Werewolf, with fur as white as the snow that plagues his habitat. His paws and muzzle are stained a slight pinkish color from the bloody nature of his food, primarily Caribou and Mountain Seal. His yellow eyes are predatory, and would be terrifying to see in the darkness of a cave or blizzard. He stands roughly 7ft tall, and weighs nearly 300lbs. His fur, claws, and teeth are immaculately well-maintained, as the Wolf believes that keeping oneself clean is foremost in respecting another, for if you do not respect yourself, you cannot respect others.
Clothes and Equipment: He wields the mighty sword White Fang, a Frost-Enchanted Sword he took from the lifeless corpse of a White Witch whom had promised him the sword, then tried to kill him with. The sword, imbued with the blood of the witch, gives him abilities similar to hers, mainly focusing on cold and frost related abilities. His legs are covered by plate armor, and his left arm is covered in a gauntlet with fingers ending in wicked looking claws. The gauntlet is inscribed with more Frost Runes, giving it similar, albeit less powerful, abilities to White Fang.
Registered: May 30, 2016 8:38:38 GMT -8
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Post by Fenrir Skargard on Sept 19, 2019 9:07:20 GMT -8
Fenrir followed alongside Alaric and his Knights as they charged, leaping over the heads of the valiant citizenry and smashing into the hordes of Xoilun. The impact smashed a pair of the Xoilunies into the Plaza, claws and sword lashing out at all enemies around him.
Like the Knights, he did his best to push forward, a fearsome maelstrom of ice, claw, and steel that was hellbent on reaching the Palace.
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Feanor Vala
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 132
Age: 79
Physical Description: He is a tall, sturdily built elf, with long blonde hair and hazel eyes. He is a bit taller than most Esdaran males, at a height between 6'2" and 6'3". His typical elfin figure is a lot stronger than it appears, and is clearly battle-scarred from years in the service.
Clothes and Equipment: His equipment is the basic gray-silver-whitish armor of the Esdaran army. A longbow with an accompanying arrow quiver is always slung across his back when not in use, and a battleaxe is always found at his hip or in his hand. Daggers are hidden in his boots and one inside of his belt, in addition to additional straps across his armor that can be used to stow and/or hide additional equipment as necessary.
Registered: Jun 25, 2016 16:11:26 GMT -8
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Post by Feanor Vala on Sept 19, 2019 9:25:35 GMT -8
Feanor stood tall in his stirrups and waved his sword in the air, gesturing for his troops to march forward.
"Clear a path! Relieve the civilians where possible but ensure the cultists do not breach the palace behind us." He ordered, his men plunging into the fray behind the Knights, the prince cutting a majestic figure as he led the charge of the Mithlondian soldiers.
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Gabriel Taurtoya
Established
Roleplay posts: 32
Age: 24
Physical Description: Standing just under six even, lean and lithe, with feathery chestnut hair that is often quite messy. His brown eyes could be described as soulful, his features slightly cherubic and youthful as he is unable to grow a beard. Something that bothers him a fair bit.
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Clothes and Equipment: A leather jerkin for protection, his father's rapier, and traveling supplies.
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Registered: Jan 12, 2018 17:10:29 GMT -8
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Post by Gabriel Taurtoya on Sept 22, 2019 17:12:50 GMT -8
This was far more in line with what Gabriel was used to. Fighting in a city against foes that were, well mostly were, human. Steel against steel, flesh against flesh. Here he could test his blade against foes that were within the realm of his expertise and hopefully make up for, what was in his mind, his poor showing earlier.
He is getting ready to join the fray when Thaelyn approaches and makes her offer. Well, to her it was likely an offer, to him it seemed more like a charge. He knew how important a spell caster could be and being asked to defend her seemed like a grave task. He was tempted to tell her she would be better asking one of the more fit fighters but... He owed her a debt and those among them who had such great strength like Fenrir were better suited to the front lines
"I would be honoured to act as your shield senorita."
He says with a low bow to her. He'd never acted as a bodyguard before but he would lay down his life to keep her safe. Of course, unbeknownst to him, this was going to be quite the problem for her when it came time for her to jump back into the fray. But they could cross that bridge when they got to it.
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Senior Wingman Dasyra Ushael
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 127
Age: 29
Physical Description: Tall and sturdy, Dasyra is a lightly muscled and curvaceous woman. Light-skinned and with strong, striking facial features, she stands out in a crowd not only for her height - taller than the average Esdaran woman at 5'9" - but for her strikingly violet hair. Said hair usually worn tamed back into a long braid that falls nearly to her knees. She has pale blue eyes that are piercing, and often filled with mirth - or determination.
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Clothes and Equipment: It's very rare to see Dasyra outside of her armor/uniform - which consists of lots of silver-edged greyish-white plate and blue fabric - but on the rare occasions it happens, she tends toward comfortable clothing in shades of blue and grey, with sturdy brown boots and fingerless blue gloves. When on duty, she carries a long halberd, and it never leaves her side while she's in her armor. She has little in the way of personal effects, and wears no jewelry. When off duty, she tends to carry a small sword and a set of daggers.
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Player's online availability : Variable; usually afternoons and evenings. (PST)
Registered: Apr 11, 2016 12:59:25 GMT -8
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Post by Senior Wingman Dasyra Ushael on Sept 29, 2019 16:55:06 GMT -8
Dasyra was a spirited woman, but she'd never truly taken any great joy in combat. But now, with her newfound companions alongside her, intermingled with determined Esdarans, and the Zanora wheeling about overhead, she felt a thrill she'd never thought to experience. She was a blur of violet braid and armor flashing in the sun as her spear, reddened with the blood of enemies, thrust and parried and laid low one foe after another.
It took her very little time to realize that the Elves and the Knights were very easily clearing a path for them to proceed toward the Palace, though she chuckled as she saw her fellow countrymen picking off the stragglers thrust to either side of the ferocious wedge of warriors. She was hot on their heels, making a beeline past the miraculously unharmed statue of one of their ancient heroic figures, bypassing the path toward the High Church, and moving ever closer to the high wall with its ornate gates that separated the Palace from the rest of the city.
Intuition suddenly prickled at her, and she darted into an open square, whistling for her Zanora. He descended, and she climbed onto his feathered back as soon as he landed, before they returned to the skies so she could see what was waiting for them up ahead.
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Thaelyn Mortris
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 310
Age: 22
Physical Description: At 5'7", Thaelyn is just above average height for a woman, with a slender build that makes her just shy of willowy. Slight curves and a womanly shape keep her from looking boyish, if only barely. She has long red hair that falls to her knees, and rich crimson eyes that are usually filled with curiosity, set in a face with delicate features.
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Clothes and Equipment: Typically, Thaelyn wears a set of white and blood red armor which is inscribed inside with a complex series of magical runes. This provides her armor with a strength that belies its lightness, as well as serving as a sort of magical buffer that wards off most spells. She also carries a spear, or perhaps it's a staff - she seems to use it as a combination of both, using it both to fight and to channel her own magical abilities.
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Player's online availability : Evenings. (EST)
Registered: Aug 15, 2016 12:11:27 GMT -8
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Post by Thaelyn Mortris on Sept 29, 2019 17:00:47 GMT -8
"Yes, well, hopefully neither of us will have to do a whole lot of shielding."
Her response to him was somewhat dry, but then Thaelyn was trotting along after the others, keeping close to Gabriel's side. It was true that her magical skills would've been quite useful in decimating the already thinned ranks of the cultist horde, but once they actually encountered their wicked foes, she saw there wasn't much left for her to do. Not to mention, she really needed to save her energy (and her blood) for whatever was keeping the much-lauded High Priest and High Priestess from saving their own people. Given all she'd heard, it had to be something pretty nasty to keep two such powerful beings from unleashing some holy whoop-ass on the evil plaguing their populace.
This meant that as they brought up the tail end of the group, Thaelyn ended up using no magic, instead doing as many of the Esdaran people were and dispatching those who had been injured but not outright killed. Such a shame all this blood would be too far away for her to make use of once they reached the Palace, but she was rather used to that. The sudden sight of Dasyra returning to the sky on her eagle and winging toward the Palace made Thaelyn frown, muttering to herself.
"..I doubt she's abandoning us, which makes me wonder what the hell she's doing up there. I hope that's not a bad sign."
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Cult of Xoilun
Established
Roleplay posts: 23
Registered: Feb 4, 2019 21:09:39 GMT -8
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Post by Cult of Xoilun on Sept 29, 2019 17:04:34 GMT -8
As the combatants neared the final barrier between them and their destination, they may or may not notice that many of those they were fighting were fleeing. And not just that, they seemed to be surging in the same general direction as the Lowlanders themselves were going. By the time they reached the gates leading to the Palace grounds, the reason why would become obvious, although Dasyra would've spotted it more quickly, thanks to her aerial reconnaissance: The cultists were pouring through the ajar gates and into the Palace grounds.
Whatever their goal may be wasn't visible to the approaching forces yet, as they continued to move further into the opulent grounds and toward the spire-and-dome topped Palace, but whatever they were doing certainly couldn't be good for the heroes.
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Alaric Marcellius
Established
Roleplay posts: 17
Age: 29
Physical Description: Quite tall at just above 200 centimetres, Alaric has a moderate peachy complexion that appears pale when in contrast with his jet black hair and nearly black brown eyes. His otherwise pristine patrician face bears a scar coming from both blade and flame at the bottom of the right side of his jaw. Despite his height and large frame & build the man is not particularly imposing, with an often unmoving expression.
Clothes and Equipment: Full gambeson, chainmail and plate blessed to stop even the maulings of dragons and giants. Typically bearing a quite large flambard and a rapier for sidearm, his mount will carry a lance, crossbow and kite shield.
Registered: Feb 11, 2019 16:53:19 GMT -8
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Post by Alaric Marcellius on Oct 1, 2019 9:46:05 GMT -8
Roars came from each strike of the Knights, the cycle of blades swinging side to side to go through flesh with loud meaty noises getting faster and faster. Indeed one of the Brothers went into such a bloodlust he stored away his weapon and tore the bones from one of his victims to use as improvised blades whilst another outright tore a man in two above himself with his plated hands. Some of the enemy seemed to flee, only to the rage of the Paladins. They dared try to escape their righteous fate? They spat on the gift of purgation from their vile existence? A swipe with a leg would bring down any coward to be mercilessly made dead. Among them only Alaric noticed Dasyra flying off, raising a hand to block out light from his eyes as he watched her go off.
He wondered what news she'd return with, but quickly went back to the killing. They had an objective, and insofar as he knew it had not changed. |
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Hansel von Dietzhoff
Dedicated
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Roleplay posts: 400
Age: 17
Physical Description: Quite tall at 6'1, Hansel has a pale complexion coupled with nearly white blonde hair and a set of heterochromatic eyes. His boyish features are well defined but covered in many small scars. The young man's frame is best described as sinewy with significant muscle placed upon a relatively thin body. Across his body one would find many cosmetics scars, brands and a few tattoos be it of scripture or strange tribal symbolism. However most noticeable are the two large wings on either shoulder blade, and the cross on his chest and back crossing his breast from stomach to neck.
Clothes and Equipment: Typically Hans will wear a bodyglove of buunvar leather, over which is blessed chainmail and plate. His preferred weapon is a moderately sized Executioner's sword of Hagbane silver with the end rounded and sharpened to at least pierce flesh. However for sidearms he carries a powerful longbow and an ensemble of Holy falchion and dagger.
The lad also will usually possess a mount; either a blessed horse, pegasus or hyppogryph. The beast will always carry heavy barding and bears a lance and kite shield for its rider.
Registered: Aug 30, 2016 13:29:47 GMT -8
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Post by Hansel von Dietzhoff on Oct 1, 2019 18:46:23 GMT -8
For Hans nothing changed. He didn't even register the flight of Dasyra and it made no difference to him whether the foe was stabbed in the front or in the back. All the mattered was getting through the masses of friend and for and at last getting closure, positive or negative.
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