Ulfang von Haren
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 181 
Age: 82
Physical Description: -------------------------------
Ulfang is a bear of a man. He towers over most he meets, and his figure is muscular and powerful, wonderfully preserved despite his age. He has been the head of House Von Haren for over sixty years. While he lacks the immortality of a vampire, he has been able to sustain his health and vitality seemingly indefinitely through his study of the black arts. His hair is snow white and grown long, complemented by a short white beard curved about his jaw. He has a strong jawline and intensely arched eyebrows, as well as one deep, piercing pale yellow right eye. His other eye is milky white, presumably blind, but this only adds to his intimidating visage. His body is covered with scars, material evidence of an existence filled with battle and hardship. He has a deep, strong voice, the sound of which is enough to scare the life out of the living.
----------------------
Clothes and Equipment: When in battle, he wears heavy, ornate black plate armour, the shoulders of which are sculpted into the shape of ravens with bizarrely glowing green eyes. The fingertips of the gauntlets have been forged and sharpened into bladed points, to be used as tertiary weaponry should he lose both of his blades. His primary weapon is a cursed, broad greatsword named "Fang", which draws the very life from the enemies it fells and feeds their souls to its master. His secondary weapon is a mundane steel arming sword, used primarily in close quarters. Outside of battle, he generally wears a heavy hide-and-fur overcoat over a thick leather jerkin, complimented by black trousers and heavy black boots.
----------------------
Registered: Jun 27, 2015 11:08:07 GMT -8
|
Post by Ulfang von Haren on Feb 12, 2016 17:00:25 GMT -8
Ulfang thinks for a moment about the riddle.
"My dear, I do believe I need to infuse you with souls, then bathe the jewel in my own blood, as I have become devoted to you, and then...perhaps, build a fire? I hope I am interpreting that right. The heart's fire...why must the Old Gods speak so cryptically?" says Ulfang, with a furrowed brow.
He places his hand into the well of souls, a green glowing smoke spiraling up his arm and disappearing into his chest. He closes his eyes and exhales deeply. It was never a particularly pleasant experience, taking souls, but it always felt good afterward. More voices are added to the cacophony in his mind, which he quickly supresses with his own will. His gauntness dissipates, but he continues to draw even after he is healthy again. Finally, he stops. A quick look into the obsidian basin reveals that it's empty.
He picks the jewel up, and it begins to glow in a sickly green light, before dissipating a few moments later. Then, he stands up and wraps Azure in a warm embrace. She'll likely feel the massive transfer of energy from Ulfang into herself, a green glow encircling his heart and that same greenish smoke pouring out to envelop Azure. The action puts him in visible pain, but he's felt much worse, and so he endures.
"Now, we should build this fire," he says, smiling down at her as he steps back and offers his hand. "The gardens would be perfect. There are even some old, dried up trees back there we can use."
|
|
Ulfgar von Haren
New
Roleplay posts: 7
Age: 90
Physical Description: Ulfgar, like his brother Ulfang, is a towering wall of power, standing at 7'4" with a frame apparently sculpted by the gods despite his obvious age. He has an old, wizened yet strong face that speaks of years of experience, complemented by a long white beard and a mane of well-kept snowy hair. His voice is gravelly and deep, perfect for commanding troops. His eyes are a deep greyish-silver, enigmatic and wise. He bears fewer scars than his brother, but it is obvious that he has not lived a life of luxury.
Clothes and Equipment: =============
When in battle, Ulfgar wears a heavy suit of full plate armour, old and scuffed up but crafted from the finest steel. While it bears little adornment, it is clear that it was built by the best smiths Aesgir has to offer. Upon his back, he wears a long white cloak in order to camouflage him in the snow, and obscure his form in battle.
As for weaponry, he is extremely proficient with the longbow and longsword, and usually carries both with him, the longsword of Dwarven make and thus very strong, though the bow is not quite as masterfully crafted.
Outside of battle, he wears rugged, utilitarian clothing, having traveled the roads far too long to wear anything resembling noble clothing, and he carries with him a leather satchel with the black raven sigil of the Von Harens adorning its front.
Registered: Feb 11, 2016 20:54:27 GMT -8
|
Post by Ulfgar von Haren on Feb 12, 2016 17:04:45 GMT -8
Ulfgar smiles and nods. "Indeed, my dear daughter. What do you think, boiled or baked?" he asks, then, searching the room for a sack of potatoes he can use. He finds one fairly quickly, and carries it over on his shoulder, along with a bundle of carrots.
"I will roast and caramelise the carrots. Your mother's favourite," he says.
|
|
Salya von Haren
Established
Feeling funny
Roleplay posts: 26 
Age: Youngish
Registered: Feb 11, 2016 22:16:52 GMT -8
|
Post by Salya von Haren on Feb 12, 2016 17:11:50 GMT -8
"Baked, of course."
Salya starts heating up the oven and summons another undead assistant to scrub the potatoes. After a moment's thought, she summons a third to fill in the holes in the ground outside from the skeletons clawing their way out of the dirt. About ten minutes later, the first skeleton returns with a fat wild boar. It drops the carcass on the table and vanishes in a puff of bone dust.
"Ah, excellent."
Salya draws a long knife from her pocket and begins gutting the boar and prepping it for roasting.
"This will be good. It's been so long since we had any guests at all."
|
|
Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 24, 2024 13:41:16 GMT -8
|
Post by Deleted on Feb 12, 2016 17:23:02 GMT -8
Azure blinked, raising her head to stare at him with thinly-veiled disbelief. Ulfang.. devoted to her? A shadow of a real person, a mockery of life? So what if they were even now plotting to restore her to said life, and she had slowly begun to develop her own personality over the months. The fact remained that she was an aberration, a freak of nature... And yet, he cared for her. He had said as much himself. And there could be no denying she cared for him. Trying to find her words, Azure hesitated to respond. "I.. yes. A fire. That is what I deduced, although whose heart, or what heart, I have no idea. What is clear is that a fire need be built, and the Jewel must be placed within it."
Those mercurial eyes watched his every movement as he drew upon the well, absorbing the souls into himself. When he transferred that energy into the Jewel, there was a brief, minor pulse of magic from the item that concerned Azure more than a little. Was it going to object to the process? Before she could think on it further, she found herself wrapped in Ulfang's arms, and felt vitality surging into her.. although her worry was for him, a hand hesitantly rising to rest upon the curve of his jaw as she saw the pain he was in. It was disorienting, as she had only received magical 'nourishment' from water and the gem, before, but she quickly shrugged it off and took his hand when it was offered.
As she did so, there was another pulse from the Jewel, followed by an ominous crack. Agony lanced through Azure, and she pressed her free hand to her chest, her features painted with distress as she gasped. Then her gaze dropped to the Jewel, dismayed to see that the crack had now become many, creeping toward the edges from the inside like a malevolent spider's web. "..I was going to insist on waiting, but it would appear that is not a luxury we can afford at the moment." She sounded breathless, ripples of pain still trembling outward from her sternum.
|
|
Ulfang von Haren
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 181
Age: 82
Physical Description: -------------------------------
Ulfang is a bear of a man. He towers over most he meets, and his figure is muscular and powerful, wonderfully preserved despite his age. He has been the head of House Von Haren for over sixty years. While he lacks the immortality of a vampire, he has been able to sustain his health and vitality seemingly indefinitely through his study of the black arts. His hair is snow white and grown long, complemented by a short white beard curved about his jaw. He has a strong jawline and intensely arched eyebrows, as well as one deep, piercing pale yellow right eye. His other eye is milky white, presumably blind, but this only adds to his intimidating visage. His body is covered with scars, material evidence of an existence filled with battle and hardship. He has a deep, strong voice, the sound of which is enough to scare the life out of the living.
----------------------
Clothes and Equipment: When in battle, he wears heavy, ornate black plate armour, the shoulders of which are sculpted into the shape of ravens with bizarrely glowing green eyes. The fingertips of the gauntlets have been forged and sharpened into bladed points, to be used as tertiary weaponry should he lose both of his blades. His primary weapon is a cursed, broad greatsword named "Fang", which draws the very life from the enemies it fells and feeds their souls to its master. His secondary weapon is a mundane steel arming sword, used primarily in close quarters. Outside of battle, he generally wears a heavy hide-and-fur overcoat over a thick leather jerkin, complimented by black trousers and heavy black boots.
----------------------
Registered: Jun 27, 2015 11:08:07 GMT -8
|
Post by Ulfang von Haren on Feb 12, 2016 18:09:55 GMT -8
Ulfang's eyes suddenly flash with worry, and he picks her up, quickly pocketing the jewel as he dashes through the halls with her in his arms. After what seems like an eternity, they arrive in the spacious gardens. Ulfang gestures to a gargoyle upon the wall that holds a large battle axe. It suddenly comes to life, hopping down from the wall and carrying out its unspoken task of cutting down the trees, chopping them into logs and throwing them into a pile.
Ulfang sets Azure down on a nearby bench tenderly, pointing at the stack of wood. A small blast of green flame explodes from his fingertip and whizzes into the stack, instantly lighting the logs aflame. Soon, it's a massive bonfire, the flames licking up into the sky.
Without a moment's hesitation, he draws his blade and slices his palm open, a deep, clean gash. He pulls the jewel from his pocket with the same hand and squeezes it, blood dripping from his fingertips and presumably coating the jewel thoroughly. He shows no pain on his features, only determination.
"Have you any idea what to do next?" he asks Azure.
|
|
Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 24, 2024 13:41:16 GMT -8
|
Post by Deleted on Feb 12, 2016 18:24:35 GMT -8
Azure was too disoriented to protest as she was picked up, but her arms came around Ulfang's neck as she was bustled outside into the garden. As they moved, the Jewel continued to emit pulses of magic, each subsequent one weaker than the one before. It seemed to be having a similar effect on Azure, as her magical aura dimmed gradually. Only the souls Ulfang had infused her with kept her whole and corporeal. Everything was a blur as the bonfire began to come into shape, and then was set ablaze.
Things took a turn when Ulfang produced the Jewel from his pocket, and his blood began to spread across the shining blue surface. The pulses from the Jewel abruptly surged powerfully, becoming more rhythmic and steady. Azure's vitality returned as well, and she looked helplessly up at Ulfang. "I.. I do not..." But then the pulsing from the Jewel.. changed. What had once been a single pulse, was now a pair of beats, paired with a blue light that shone from behind his blood. Azure felt an answering rhythm in her chest, and reached for the Jewel, curling both hands around it.
Ulfang's blood began to seep up into Azure's hands and arms, tracing a pattern that was far from natural. The pulsing light within both the Jewel and her own breast grew stronger, now an audible sound. Thum-THUM, thum-THUM. Her head shot up, gaze whipping toward the fire. In a flash, she was on her feet and sprinting toward it, the Jewel clutched against her sternum. With only a moment's hesitation, she stepped into the blaze, moving toward the heart of the inferno. There was a sizzling sound, as of water being turned to steam, and her clothing began to disappear, drifting away in sparks of blue magic.
As she reached the center of the pyre, Azure stopped and turned toward Ulfang, her eyes seeking out his through the twisting flames. Without speaking a word, she smiled at him, those tumultuous blue hues saying more than speech could: How grateful she was to him, how much she had enjoyed their time together, and how deeply she cared for him. Tilting her head back and raising her face toward the sky, she clutched the Jewel to her chest as a resounding CRACK echoed around the gardens. There was a burst of blue light, and Azure screamed.
For several moments, nothing happened. Then the light spread outward, putting out the fire and scattering the logs which had formed it all in one fell swoop, leaving nothing but a descending cloud of steam which slowly turned to mist. In the center of the charred circle where the flames had been, Azure staggered, gasping for breath, sank to her knees, and collapsed, covered only by the wayward tumble of her blue hair.
|
|
Ulfang von Haren
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 181
Age: 82
Physical Description: -------------------------------
Ulfang is a bear of a man. He towers over most he meets, and his figure is muscular and powerful, wonderfully preserved despite his age. He has been the head of House Von Haren for over sixty years. While he lacks the immortality of a vampire, he has been able to sustain his health and vitality seemingly indefinitely through his study of the black arts. His hair is snow white and grown long, complemented by a short white beard curved about his jaw. He has a strong jawline and intensely arched eyebrows, as well as one deep, piercing pale yellow right eye. His other eye is milky white, presumably blind, but this only adds to his intimidating visage. His body is covered with scars, material evidence of an existence filled with battle and hardship. He has a deep, strong voice, the sound of which is enough to scare the life out of the living.
----------------------
Clothes and Equipment: When in battle, he wears heavy, ornate black plate armour, the shoulders of which are sculpted into the shape of ravens with bizarrely glowing green eyes. The fingertips of the gauntlets have been forged and sharpened into bladed points, to be used as tertiary weaponry should he lose both of his blades. His primary weapon is a cursed, broad greatsword named "Fang", which draws the very life from the enemies it fells and feeds their souls to its master. His secondary weapon is a mundane steel arming sword, used primarily in close quarters. Outside of battle, he generally wears a heavy hide-and-fur overcoat over a thick leather jerkin, complimented by black trousers and heavy black boots.
----------------------
Registered: Jun 27, 2015 11:08:07 GMT -8
|
Post by Ulfang von Haren on Feb 12, 2016 18:34:44 GMT -8
Ulfang, for once, doesn't have much to say in return. He's a bit shocked when she suddenly sprints over, grabbing the crystal from him and essentially diving into the fire. He reaches out to stop her, but his hand is singed against the flame and he draws it back. His yellow eye is filled with concern as he looks at her through the flames. One almost might expect him to cry, but it had been upward of fourty years since he had, he's probably forgotten how.
He can only stand there, helpless as Azure screams, hoping for the best. When the ritual finally ends, Ulfang shields his eyes as shards of wood fly everywhere, his gargoyle having been impaled by a log. He cares not for that, however. He looks into the steam, trying to discern something, anything...and then he sees Azure staggering out. Before she can hit the ground, he dashes forward with his arms outstretched, catching her as he sits upon his calves. He looks down at his companion, moving a lock of hair from her eye and running his rough fingertips down her cheek. Warmth. She is alive...but will she be responsive?
"Azure..my dear...can you hear me?" he asks in a quiet murmur, stroking her cheek gently.
|
|
Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 24, 2024 13:41:16 GMT -8
|
Post by Deleted on Feb 12, 2016 18:51:16 GMT -8
Breath. Heartbeat. Pain. Cold. Warmth? Comfort... Azure heard a sound, a voice she'd not expected to hear again, not truly. Blue eyes blinked slowly open as she felt a touch against her cheek; warmth like that which surrounded her, the texture of skin against skin rather than just magic, the whisper of his cloak against her bare legs. The hues that gazed up at him past a fringe of blue lashes were a confused slate, at first, but as recognition dawned, they became a vivid cornflower, then darkened to a warm, affectionate royal blue.
A trembling hand raised, falling against the line of his jaw, and she breathed a laugh. "Your beard.. tickles..." Nonetheless, her hand remained right where it was, her thumb gently yet unsteadily stroking his cheek. She could smell the remainder of the smoke around them from the fire, the wind that gusted from somewhere.. and something that was uniquely Ulfang, wrapped around her like a blanket of comfort. "..We.. we actually.. did it." She sounded surprised, but there was no denying she was pleased.
"It was my heart. The fire. The Jewel..." She sounded disjointed, nonsensical, she knew, so she tried again. "..The heart's fire, was the heat of my will to live.. my desire to feel real emotions.. my longing.. to stay with you..." Smiling contentedly, she closed her eyes, her hand slipping away to rest over her beating heart. She was, quite frankly, exhausted.
|
|
Ulfang von Haren
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 181
Age: 82
Physical Description: -------------------------------
Ulfang is a bear of a man. He towers over most he meets, and his figure is muscular and powerful, wonderfully preserved despite his age. He has been the head of House Von Haren for over sixty years. While he lacks the immortality of a vampire, he has been able to sustain his health and vitality seemingly indefinitely through his study of the black arts. His hair is snow white and grown long, complemented by a short white beard curved about his jaw. He has a strong jawline and intensely arched eyebrows, as well as one deep, piercing pale yellow right eye. His other eye is milky white, presumably blind, but this only adds to his intimidating visage. His body is covered with scars, material evidence of an existence filled with battle and hardship. He has a deep, strong voice, the sound of which is enough to scare the life out of the living.
----------------------
Clothes and Equipment: When in battle, he wears heavy, ornate black plate armour, the shoulders of which are sculpted into the shape of ravens with bizarrely glowing green eyes. The fingertips of the gauntlets have been forged and sharpened into bladed points, to be used as tertiary weaponry should he lose both of his blades. His primary weapon is a cursed, broad greatsword named "Fang", which draws the very life from the enemies it fells and feeds their souls to its master. His secondary weapon is a mundane steel arming sword, used primarily in close quarters. Outside of battle, he generally wears a heavy hide-and-fur overcoat over a thick leather jerkin, complimented by black trousers and heavy black boots.
----------------------
Registered: Jun 27, 2015 11:08:07 GMT -8
|
Post by Ulfang von Haren on Feb 12, 2016 21:33:04 GMT -8
Ulfang laughs in relief at her observation, hia mouth turning up into a wide, extremely pleased grin. "We did indeed, my dear, we did indeed. Well, it was mostly you, but I helped," he says, his voice clearly very happy, though still slightly shaky. It was not often that Ulfang's voice got shaky. In fact, he thinks he might feel moisture welling up in his eyes. Now, that would not do. He wipes any moisture from his eyes with the cloth of his tunic. And clears his throat.
He then picks her up delicately and leans down to give her a gentle kiss upon the cheek, the first of such signs of affection he's yet shown. His lips are warm and soft, and his beard is rough against her face. He carries her effortlessly, like a princess, going inside once again, walking her to his room.
Ulfang's room is spacious, yet not overly decorated. Upon the wall, various trophies of battle are hung up. A charred head of an enemy commander, a pair of blades he took from another. Upon a stand sits a set of plate armour lined with gold, well-made except that it seems a blade has sheared right through the chestplate, caked blood still marking the edges of the slash. On the opposite wall there lies a large oak armour decorated with raven carvings, a plain pine cabinet, and an eight foot tall mirror, wide and tall enough to display Ulfang's entire form. The room is lit by a small chandelier that hangs from the cieling, supporting six red candles, as well as several silver lamps sat on various pieces of furniture about the room.
The one truly luxurious piece of furniture in the room is the bed, massive and stuffed with down, several large blankets made by Ulfang himself after hunting trips covering the sheets. The pillows are large and velvety, extremely comfortable. It seems a bit out of place in the otherwise fairly spartan room.
This is where Ulfang deposits Azure, setting her down as gently as he can. He smiles softly down at her.
"I imagine you'd like to rest, my dear. Would you like me to stay by your side, or should I leave you in peace?" he asks, his bassy tones gentler than they've ever been.
|
|
Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 24, 2024 13:41:16 GMT -8
|
Post by Deleted on Feb 12, 2016 21:48:35 GMT -8
Azure's eyes veritably glowed with delight upon being bestowed that simple gesture of affection, although the feel of his beard against her sensitive skin - what a novel concept, it still fascinated her - elicited another quiet laugh as it tickled her once more. Her arms once again draped around his neck, although she did murmur softly as her fingers twined into his hair, savoring the texture. "I am tempted to insist that you should put me down so that I can walk.. but I am not certain that I can. This body feels.. awkward, and weak." So it was probably a good thing he was carting her around like she weighed nothing.
Her gaze swept avidly across his room as they entered, trying to absorb all the sights, sounds, and smells at once, then returned to Ulfang's features as she was placed upon the bed. She procrastinated in removing her hands from about his neck, having enjoyed the feel of touching him far too much, and satisfied herself with stroking his cheek once more, fascinated with the feel of him against her fingertips. "I would like for you to stay.. but you have spent the past three months with me. Go be with your family. I will be here when you return." It was so nice, to be able to say that. To know that she would awaken, not to be trapped in a gem, but to be whole, alive, in his home-- No. Their home. For it truly was hers as well, now.
|
|
Ulfang von Haren
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 181
Age: 82
Physical Description: -------------------------------
Ulfang is a bear of a man. He towers over most he meets, and his figure is muscular and powerful, wonderfully preserved despite his age. He has been the head of House Von Haren for over sixty years. While he lacks the immortality of a vampire, he has been able to sustain his health and vitality seemingly indefinitely through his study of the black arts. His hair is snow white and grown long, complemented by a short white beard curved about his jaw. He has a strong jawline and intensely arched eyebrows, as well as one deep, piercing pale yellow right eye. His other eye is milky white, presumably blind, but this only adds to his intimidating visage. His body is covered with scars, material evidence of an existence filled with battle and hardship. He has a deep, strong voice, the sound of which is enough to scare the life out of the living.
----------------------
Clothes and Equipment: When in battle, he wears heavy, ornate black plate armour, the shoulders of which are sculpted into the shape of ravens with bizarrely glowing green eyes. The fingertips of the gauntlets have been forged and sharpened into bladed points, to be used as tertiary weaponry should he lose both of his blades. His primary weapon is a cursed, broad greatsword named "Fang", which draws the very life from the enemies it fells and feeds their souls to its master. His secondary weapon is a mundane steel arming sword, used primarily in close quarters. Outside of battle, he generally wears a heavy hide-and-fur overcoat over a thick leather jerkin, complimented by black trousers and heavy black boots.
----------------------
Registered: Jun 27, 2015 11:08:07 GMT -8
|
Post by Ulfang von Haren on Feb 12, 2016 22:19:59 GMT -8
"Alright, my dear...in that case, sleep well. I will come for you when supper is prepared," responds Ulfang, giving another gentle smile before leaning down and placing a soft kiss upon her forehead. He tucks her under the covers gently, before leaving the room. Thorvald had been following the entire time, and his panting can be heard at the foot of Ulfang's bed as he jumps up and curls up at Azure's feet, his body warm and heavy.
Ulfang, meanwhile, makes his way to the kitchen, where his family is preparing dinner. He spies the boar on the table, and grins.
"Wild boar? What a surprise. What is the special occasion?" he asks, leaning against the door frame.
"What a ridiculous question," his brother admonishes, "the occasion is your return! Really it was my Salya's idea, anyway. Her and those bone men of hers. I tell you, brother, one day she'll be even better at the arts than you are!"
Ulfang laughs and nods in agreement, picking an apple from a nearby bowl and taking a bite before he speaks, "I am certain you're right. In any case, I will be at the table if you need my help. Just call."
|
|
Salya von Haren
Established
Feeling funny
Roleplay posts: 26
Age: Youngish
Registered: Feb 11, 2016 22:16:52 GMT -8
|
Post by Salya von Haren on Feb 12, 2016 22:28:05 GMT -8
Salya grins at her father's praise. She expertly cleans the meat, and heaves it into the oven to be cooked.
"That'll take some time to cook. Still, it'll be juicy and nice when it's done."
She rinses her hands off in a basin of water, then helps her father with the potatoes. Dinner prepared, she heads outside to her uncle. Timbit walks up to her, rubbing up against her legs.
"So, Uncle. You've been away for a long wile. Surely you must have stories to tell. Things that you did or saw."
She rubs Timbit on the head.
"Tell me, uncle. What did you do during your long absence? What did you see?"
|
|
Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 24, 2024 13:41:16 GMT -8
|
Post by Deleted on Feb 12, 2016 22:28:16 GMT -8
Azure smiled sleepily at the kiss that was pressed to her brow, allowing herself a final caress of his cheek, before hands laid against her chest. As she was tucked in, the fabric settled around her bare frame, she breathed a contented sigh, lids moving in languid blinks that slowly began to come further and further apart. The moment Ulfang was out of her line of sight, she fell asleep, the exhaustion of suddenly being made mortal catching up with her rapidly. And for the first time, she dreamed - not visions of destruction, death, and misery, but hopeful images of the future, and what it might hold.
|
|
Ulfang von Haren
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 181
Age: 82
Physical Description: -------------------------------
Ulfang is a bear of a man. He towers over most he meets, and his figure is muscular and powerful, wonderfully preserved despite his age. He has been the head of House Von Haren for over sixty years. While he lacks the immortality of a vampire, he has been able to sustain his health and vitality seemingly indefinitely through his study of the black arts. His hair is snow white and grown long, complemented by a short white beard curved about his jaw. He has a strong jawline and intensely arched eyebrows, as well as one deep, piercing pale yellow right eye. His other eye is milky white, presumably blind, but this only adds to his intimidating visage. His body is covered with scars, material evidence of an existence filled with battle and hardship. He has a deep, strong voice, the sound of which is enough to scare the life out of the living.
----------------------
Clothes and Equipment: When in battle, he wears heavy, ornate black plate armour, the shoulders of which are sculpted into the shape of ravens with bizarrely glowing green eyes. The fingertips of the gauntlets have been forged and sharpened into bladed points, to be used as tertiary weaponry should he lose both of his blades. His primary weapon is a cursed, broad greatsword named "Fang", which draws the very life from the enemies it fells and feeds their souls to its master. His secondary weapon is a mundane steel arming sword, used primarily in close quarters. Outside of battle, he generally wears a heavy hide-and-fur overcoat over a thick leather jerkin, complimented by black trousers and heavy black boots.
----------------------
Registered: Jun 27, 2015 11:08:07 GMT -8
|
Post by Ulfang von Haren on Feb 13, 2016 10:04:17 GMT -8
"Well, nothing extremely exciting. I traveled to Gauldin, which is where I found Azure. Travére was a beautiful city, though the people were a bit...haughty for my tastes. That all took about six months, going there and back. I imagine you two moved in a little while after I left?" asks Ulfang, incinerating the apple core in his hand to a pile of ash and brushing his hands off as he sits at the long stone table in the center of the feast hall.
"How have things been in the Black Vale? It seems the land became more quickly populated than I had projected," he continues, curiously.
|
|
Ravanys Tranir
Committed
The Blue Rose of Tranir
Roleplay posts: 85
Age: 39
Physical Description: Ravanys is an imposing woman of pure Varan breeding, looming at an impressive 5'10". She is muscular and pale-skinned, with shoulder-length black hair and piercing blue eyes. She rarely smiles, usually bearing a stoic expression on features that would otherwise be lovely, if not for the frown perpetually marring them.
---------------------------
Clothes and Equipment: As a former vassal of the Von Harens, Ravanys owns a set of black plate armor, adorned with skulls and her personal sigil of the blue rose. She also bears a two-handed broadsword, the hilt of which is emblazoned with the skull and rose, her most prized possession. She is rarely seen outside of her armor, but when she is, it is in plain black clothing consisting of long-sleeved tunic, trousers, and sturdy leather boots.
---------------------------
Player's online availability : Evenings. (EST)
Registered: Feb 11, 2016 20:24:46 GMT -8
|
Post by Ravanys Tranir on Feb 13, 2016 11:59:09 GMT -8
Seeing to the outfitting and training of the other Dread Knights was a time-consuming task, but upon receiving word that the true ruler of House von Haren had returned, the recently-appointed Captain had left her most trusted Lieutenant in charge of the recruits and made her way to the Dreadhalls from the training grounds, posthaste. The thundering tread of her blue roan charger over the dirt and dead grass, his black armor gleaming beneath the sun's cold rays, became the careful staccato of horseshoes against stone as she entered the keep's walls. Vaulting easily from the gelding's back, despite the weight of plate armor black as death's own robe, she tied the hulking horse to a hitching post and swept into the halls proper.
Tall and pale-skinned, with a confident stride and head held high, Ravanys Tranir followed the sound of voices, her cloak emblazoned with the House von Haren crest and her own personal sigil of the blue rose streaming behind her. As she entered the kitchens, where the remainder of the von Haren family stood, she came to a stop, blue eyes surveying the inhabitants. Shoulder length hair dark as the night sky tumbled forward over her shoulders as she bent at the waist, armored fist clanking over her heart, to offer a deep bow to Ulfgar and Salya as she spoke, her voice a chilly alto with clipped, precise tones. "Lord Ulfgar. Lady Salya."
Then she turned to face Ulfang alone, and dropped to a knee, planting that fist atop the stone beneath her as she bowed her head. "Lord von Haren... I am Ravanys, of House Tranir. Lord Ulfgar has named me the Captain of your Dread Knights. I swear my fealty and my life to you, and to the glory of House von Haren." Ulfgar might have been the one who bestowed the title upon her, but Ravanys' loyalty was to the House's head, not his brother, whether he became Marshall or no.
|
|
Ulfang von Haren
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 181
Age: 82
Physical Description: -------------------------------
Ulfang is a bear of a man. He towers over most he meets, and his figure is muscular and powerful, wonderfully preserved despite his age. He has been the head of House Von Haren for over sixty years. While he lacks the immortality of a vampire, he has been able to sustain his health and vitality seemingly indefinitely through his study of the black arts. His hair is snow white and grown long, complemented by a short white beard curved about his jaw. He has a strong jawline and intensely arched eyebrows, as well as one deep, piercing pale yellow right eye. His other eye is milky white, presumably blind, but this only adds to his intimidating visage. His body is covered with scars, material evidence of an existence filled with battle and hardship. He has a deep, strong voice, the sound of which is enough to scare the life out of the living.
----------------------
Clothes and Equipment: When in battle, he wears heavy, ornate black plate armour, the shoulders of which are sculpted into the shape of ravens with bizarrely glowing green eyes. The fingertips of the gauntlets have been forged and sharpened into bladed points, to be used as tertiary weaponry should he lose both of his blades. His primary weapon is a cursed, broad greatsword named "Fang", which draws the very life from the enemies it fells and feeds their souls to its master. His secondary weapon is a mundane steel arming sword, used primarily in close quarters. Outside of battle, he generally wears a heavy hide-and-fur overcoat over a thick leather jerkin, complimented by black trousers and heavy black boots.
----------------------
Registered: Jun 27, 2015 11:08:07 GMT -8
|
Post by Ulfang von Haren on Feb 13, 2016 20:34:58 GMT -8
Ulfang is distracted from his conversation by the intrusion of a woman. Pale skin. Black armour. When she speaks, he looks her up and down, appraising her every element with a critical eye. She looks to be strong. Worthy. He stands up and walks over to her, taking her chin in his hand without a word and turning her head backx fourth, up, and down to study her more closely, like a dog show judge would examine a prized pup.
Finally, he speaks, lifting her head to meet his one-eyed gaze, "House Tranir? I do not recall that name. I suppose your family is new in the Black Vale, yes? Nevertheless, I expect nothing but absolute perfection out of you, Captain Ravanys. Is that understood? You and your Dread Knights are the personification of the strength of our house. I will not accept anything but the absolute best of the best."
His voice is stern and strong, that of a commander, very unlike the tone he uses to speak to his family. To a lesser woman, his entire being would be terrifying. That, of course, is the entire point. His one good eye searches Ravanys' for any sign of fear or reluctance. A captain of the Dread Knights could have neither, else they would be unworthy of the position.
|
|
Dumah Exilium Iino
New
Roleplay posts: 1
Age: 21
Physical Description: A handsome young man with smooth skin and long black hair. At a glance, one could easily mistake Dumah for a woman given his slim build and feminine features.
Clothes and Equipment: Despite fighting with a sword, he does not wear the leather armor typical of many swordsmen, opting instead to wear clothing into battle to give him ease of movement and so as not to prevent him from easily casting magic. He brandishes an ornate katana while fighting up close, often casting with his bare left hand.
Registered: Feb 12, 2016 20:27:50 GMT -8
|
Post by Dumah Exilium Iino on Feb 13, 2016 20:54:15 GMT -8
Castle Harenhall; The Dreadhalls, as they once were known. A large castle that lay now in ruin, shattered by the destructive effects upon a structure such as this from the fall of an empire. Though the citadel was, for the longest while, merely a shadow of its former glory, it has recently begun to rise from its ashes and refute its history, taking back its magnificence. Though the castle was not yet returned to its historical grandeur, it was well on its way. From the piles of rubble rose pillars of wooden scaffolds, holding up and supporting the resurrected citadel.
Approaching its gate at a casual pace came a young man with feminine features, a sword sheathed in an ornate, wooden scabbard on his left hip. His right hand hung by his side, while his left hand rested upon the handle and kashira of his blade. As he neared the gate, he was stopped by a guard. A reasonable action of course. "I would request entry into Harenhall." Introducing himself, the man bowed his head lightly and spoke. "I am Dumah Exilium Iino, traveler and adventurer." He brought his gaze back up to the guard, awaiting an answer.
|
|
Harenhall Hordes
New
Roleplay posts: 3
Physical Description: The undead creatures that inhabit Harenhall are numerous and range from tiny imp-like abominations to great bone dragons. Beware that which lurks in the depths...
Registered: Sept 29, 2015 16:04:25 GMT -8
|
Post by Harenhall Hordes on Feb 13, 2016 21:36:49 GMT -8
The guard that stands watch by the gatehouse is a Varan man of middling age with a naturally downturned and angry-looking face, a thick beard covering his mouth and bushy brown eyebrows arched ever downward upon a wrinkled forehead. A steel bassinet covers his head, and he's dressed in a suit of old chain maille, padding painted black worn over the steel as added protection. Clearly, he isn't one of the famed Dread Knights, but a common foot soldier.
He leans casually upon his halberd as the foreigner approaches, giving a gruff grunt and waving the man through with a gesture that says, quite clearly, "get out of my sight". The gate opens for Dumah. As he passes the guard, he might hear him mutter, "Damned foreigners."
The guard knows very well that Harenhall is dangerous without an escort. That's the point. The portcullis rises and the gates swing open, revealing the entrance courtyard.
As Dumah enters, he'll hear the gates creak shut behind him, milky white eyes looking down at him from withered black faces upon the walls. Ghouls. And lots of them. For now, they simply watch with those lifeless, hungry eyes, baring their inhumanly long, sharp teeth, moving nothing but their hairless heads in tandem with Dumah's footsteps.
|
|
Ravanys Tranir
Committed
The Blue Rose of Tranir
Roleplay posts: 85
Age: 39
Physical Description: Ravanys is an imposing woman of pure Varan breeding, looming at an impressive 5'10". She is muscular and pale-skinned, with shoulder-length black hair and piercing blue eyes. She rarely smiles, usually bearing a stoic expression on features that would otherwise be lovely, if not for the frown perpetually marring them.
---------------------------
Clothes and Equipment: As a former vassal of the Von Harens, Ravanys owns a set of black plate armor, adorned with skulls and her personal sigil of the blue rose. She also bears a two-handed broadsword, the hilt of which is emblazoned with the skull and rose, her most prized possession. She is rarely seen outside of her armor, but when she is, it is in plain black clothing consisting of long-sleeved tunic, trousers, and sturdy leather boots.
---------------------------
Player's online availability : Evenings. (EST)
Registered: Feb 11, 2016 20:24:46 GMT -8
|
Post by Ravanys Tranir on Feb 13, 2016 23:37:22 GMT -8
Ulfang is distracted from his conversation by the intrusion of a woman. Pale skin. Black armour. When she speaks, he looks her up and down, appraising her every element with a critical eye. She looks to be strong. Worthy. He stands up and walks over to her, taking her chin in his hand without a word and turning her head backx fourth, up, and down to study her more closely, like a dog show judge would examine a prized pup. Finally, he speaks, lifting her head to meet his one-eyed gaze, "House Tranir? I do not recall that name. I suppose your family is new in the Black Vale, yes? Nevertheless, I expect nothing but absolute perfection out of you, Captain Ravanys. Is that understood? You and your Dread Knights are the personification of the strength of our house. I will not accept anything but the absolute best of the best." His voice is stern and strong, that of a commander, very unlike the tone he uses to speak to his family. To a lesser woman, his entire being would be terrifying. That, of course, is the entire point. His one good eye searches Ravanys' for any sign of fear or reluctance. A captain of the Dread Knights could have neither, else they would be unworthy of the position. |
|
Ulfang von Haren
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 181
Age: 82
Physical Description: -------------------------------
Ulfang is a bear of a man. He towers over most he meets, and his figure is muscular and powerful, wonderfully preserved despite his age. He has been the head of House Von Haren for over sixty years. While he lacks the immortality of a vampire, he has been able to sustain his health and vitality seemingly indefinitely through his study of the black arts. His hair is snow white and grown long, complemented by a short white beard curved about his jaw. He has a strong jawline and intensely arched eyebrows, as well as one deep, piercing pale yellow right eye. His other eye is milky white, presumably blind, but this only adds to his intimidating visage. His body is covered with scars, material evidence of an existence filled with battle and hardship. He has a deep, strong voice, the sound of which is enough to scare the life out of the living.
----------------------
Clothes and Equipment: When in battle, he wears heavy, ornate black plate armour, the shoulders of which are sculpted into the shape of ravens with bizarrely glowing green eyes. The fingertips of the gauntlets have been forged and sharpened into bladed points, to be used as tertiary weaponry should he lose both of his blades. His primary weapon is a cursed, broad greatsword named "Fang", which draws the very life from the enemies it fells and feeds their souls to its master. His secondary weapon is a mundane steel arming sword, used primarily in close quarters. Outside of battle, he generally wears a heavy hide-and-fur overcoat over a thick leather jerkin, complimented by black trousers and heavy black boots.
----------------------
Registered: Jun 27, 2015 11:08:07 GMT -8
|
Post by Ulfang von Haren on Feb 16, 2016 11:48:41 GMT -8
Ulfang's expression suddenly softens, and he releases Ravanys.
"Excellent!" he exclaims, "Now, with the formalities out of the way, you may join us at the table, Captain Tranir. I am certain that all your rigorous training has given you quite the apetite!"
Ulfang pulls out a third seat for her to sit in next to his own and sits down himself.
Shortly thereafter, Ulfgar calls from the kitchen, "Supper is almost complete! I just need to put the finishing touches on this boar here."
Hardly ten minutes later, several servants wheel the food out. It's a modest dinner for a noble, yet it looks quite apetising. A fat, well-roasted boar garnished with an apple and surrounded by parsley leaves, a pan of roasted and caremelised carrots that give off a sweet aroma as they stew in their juices, a platter with fluffy homemade rolls with a side of sweet honey butter, and six fat baked potatoes crusted with fresh cheddar cheese and stuffed with chives and butter.
The entire meal is what one might expect a hunter to feed his family; nobles of other lands would tend to eat roasted pheasant or lamb, washed down with fine wine. Here, they dine upon what they wish. The Varan people do not turn their noses up at a humble meal for the sake of appearances.
|
|
