Reuna Laurént
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 361 
Age: 51
Physical Description: Reuna is a striking study in contrasts. She is just slightly above female average, height-wise, standing at 5'8", and is slender, with a fragile bone structure that makes her look weak; this is, of course, balanced out by her strength and skill in magic. Her hair is long, descending to her waist, and is purely black, which is a sharp opposition to her pale-skinned features. Her eyes are the color of amethyst, dark and intense, and are usually the only method from which one can derive her mood, as she very rarely displays her emotions via facial expressions. She appears young, in her mid-thirties, although if one looks closely enough, they can see the beginnings of fine lines around her eyes and mouth. Although few have ever seen them, due to her tendency to keep herself fully covered from neck to toes, she has whip-mark scars covering most of her back, and scars from long periods spent in manacles around both of her wrists, remnants from her days as a slave.
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Clothes and Equipment: Generally, Reuna wears one of five sets of identical robes, with high collars and long slightly-loose sleeves, in black, dark grey, purple, dark green, and dark blue. Commonly-carried equipment consists of her personal grimoire, a traveling writing kit (with ink well, quills, and writing desk), and a belt with pouches that contain various items (both magical and non); though perhaps not considered equipment, her raven companion Karrik always accompanies her.
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Player's online availability : Evenings. (EST)
Registered: Jan 25, 2016 16:56:44 GMT -8
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Post by Reuna Laurént on Jan 25, 2016 17:53:54 GMT -8
Although it was far from the first time the unwillingly nomadic sorceress had found herself abruptly thrust into a new locale, this was the first time she was simultaneously irritated and pleased. Normally, it was just the former, as being cast about by the winds of fortune -- or, in this particular case, by the parting expenditure of a dying god of magic -- tended to incite her ire. But as this circumstance was different from most, Reuna found her annoyance fading rapidly. And it wasn't just due to gratefulness for her most recent patron's (admittedly unasked for) assistance; it could be attributed mostly to the fact that this unfamiliar city was positively brimming with magic.
This woman was a striking figure. Somewhat tall, she had delicate features, nearly aristocratic, with long black hair and intensely violet eyes; she wore a set of finely-made robes in a shade of blue so dark they were nearly black, topped off with a black hooded cloak, that lent her a mysterious air. With a confident stride that made it seem like she had intended to be there all along, the cloaked female, raven perched comfortably on her shoulder, proceeded into the city, her head held high. Reuna Midai had no doubt that she would find her place in this city. Whether or not that place ended up being a permanent one remained to be seen. For once, she was optimistic. And she would remain that way.. until Fate, or her past, stepped in.
<Exit to city proper>
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Maelik The Fellblade
Dedicated
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6l6vqPUM_FE
Roleplay posts: 390 
Age: Several eons.
Physical Description: Standing at 14' tall with an equal length for his tail and a 28 foot wingspan. Charcoal black scales with glowing crimson eyes and a maw full of needle sharp fangs. Muscular build though clearly draconian in nature.
Clothes and Equipment: Wears a suit of spiked black armor with red trim, a silver helmet that covers the topside of his face and a little skull shaped necklace made of wood though it never seems to burn. His weapons of choice are dual greatswords made from a strange blackened hellish material that crackles with dark lightning and gives off a dangerous feeling.
Player's online availability : I check in almost daily although it may take about an hour or two to post back unless I'm busy. (This is my homepage so checking is easy :P)
Registered: Feb 20, 2015 23:09:59 GMT -8
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Post by Maelik The Fellblade on Jan 25, 2016 21:50:24 GMT -8
A monolithic column of black fire rose from the ground with a cacophonous roar, rising higher and higher into the skies until it peaked at about fifty or so feet. It seemed a maelstrom of chaotic flame and demonic magic, a force of unnatural malice that sought out nothing but destruction. The outline of Maelik's hulking armored body could just barely be seen within the fiery tornado, the most defining feature being his two glowing eyes that provided nothing but further malevolence for those who stared into them.
The demonic lord took a single step towards the gate and by consequence a step closer to the guards who manned their posts, his clawed feet clicking against the stone of the bridge. His second step took him out of his vortex of flame entirely and without the presence of its source the spell puttered out almost immediately. His third step brought him within knocking distance of the gate, and it was here that Maelik stopped.
He looked around until he met the eyes of one of the guards and singled him out from the rest, his stare giving off the effect that the demon was looking past the man and peering right into his soul. The demonic menace remained silent for a minute before suddenly shooting his hand into his pack to produce his transport papers.
"Hey umm... I got these queer little papers here and the other guys said that it would be okay for me to come in." Maelik waved his papers about a bit more before retracting them and squinting at the gate.
"Unless this isn't Gauldin... Hmm, oh I guess I could just ask. Hey is this Gaudlin? Oh what am I saying of course this is Gauldin! But then again I did get a little lost back in that interdimensional pocket... Ah screw it. If this is indeed Gauldin do I have permission to enter? I may not look it but I'm a prospective student for the magic academy and I'd like to register as soon as possible!"
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 21, 2024 6:25:25 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Jan 25, 2016 22:01:13 GMT -8
The guard looks at Maelik, and a warm trickle of urine runs down his leg. He looks for his partner. Gone. Off by the river, snorting some fairy dust, probably. He looks at his sword. Standard issue. Cheap steel. No way to pierce this thing's armor. He looks at Maelik. This creature could bite his head off in an instant. Why risk his life? He bites his tongue for a moment, then makes a decision.
"Of...of course, sir. This is Gauldin. Travere, in fact. Go right on ahead."
He opens the gate for the demon, hands shaking. As soon as Maelik's through, he digs into his pocket and pulls out a small flask of liquor. Usually he sips a little throughout the day to keep warm. Today, however, it's gone in seconds.
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Lenny Labree
Established
Roleplay posts: 47
Age: 43
Physical Description: A rather overweight balding man who going by appearances, one might think is in his late 50s to 60s, despite actually being 43. His eyes are a yellowish color and his skin is rather tanned from time spent outside. He appears to have had a rough life but despite this, usually wears a wide smile on his face.
Clothes and Equipment: Wears a rather large tan trenchcoat filled with many pockets, most filled with flask. He has a pair of spectacles he’ll occasionally wear for certain task. He carries around a wooden walking stick of some kind, with metal bands that have runes in them reinforcing it.
Registered: Nov 12, 2015 7:38:25 GMT -8
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Post by Lenny Labree on Jan 26, 2016 12:29:52 GMT -8
Lenny would happily ride over the bridge on Loppy, making his way into the city. He would glance at the papers he had received from the guards. They sure seemed official, he must make sure not to lose them as they said, he’d probably get in trouble if he didn’t have them. Storing them away in one of his pockets, he smiled widely as he moved closer to his destination. It was truly a lovely day!
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Eleniel Windsong
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 380
Age: 208
Physical Description: As with many Elves, Eleniel is not terribly tall; at an unimpressive 5'4", she is, like most of her race, slender and fine-boned, with delicate, beautiful features. She also possesses the characteristic pointed ears of the Elves. Her hair is long, usually falling unrestrained to her hips, and is a shade of golden-blonde. Her eyes are grey, but not cool, as they are often filled with warmth, friendliness, and other positive emotions.
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Clothes and Equipment: Pertaining to her wardrobe, Eleniel is a study in contrasts. She thinks nothing of wearing a dress one day, then running around in tunic and breeches the next. She carries with her frequently a bow and quiver of green-and-white fletched arrows, and her rapier.
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Player's online availability : Evenings. (EST)
Registered: Feb 17, 2016 10:49:22 GMT -8
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Post by Eleniel Windsong on Feb 17, 2016 16:04:56 GMT -8
Gently reining her horse to a stop, Eleniel leaned back to peer up at the city before her. It certainly was big! How had she even ended up here? There'd been a ship - which she spent most of her time on absolutely miserable, weren't Elves supposed to not get seasick? - and when it docked she'd gone through a tiny fishing down that barely deserved the name.. then long hours of riding.. and now here she was. Random city. It sure looked nice enough. Turning her head to peer at the red-tailed hawk perched on her shoulder, grey eyes assessed the bird's expression as it uttered a soft screech at her. Then she nodded, blonde braid swaying behind her. "My thoughts exactly. We'll head back out to the wilds eventually, but a little time in town won't hurt us, right?"
The hawk screeched again, and the Elf gently kicked her steed into motion, heeling the dark bay stallion across the bridge, through the gates, and into the city itself. She could do with a hot meal, after all. And maybe a place to sleep. Or something to do. Or all of the above!
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Nameless Samurai
Dedicated
Stars are like friends. Not always seen, but always there.
Roleplay posts: 235
Age: 19
Physical Description: Lean, muscular, Wiry.
Has deep blue eyes, from his mother's side.
Has messy golden blonde hair.
Has a scar going diagonally across his face stating at above his right eyebrow down to his left cheek.
Clothes and Equipment: Normally: Green and black traveling clothes, wooden clogs, and a straw conical hat. He always keeps his pure white katana and wakizashi, to show his status as a samurai, and a red and black katana on his left hip.
Preparing for a battle: He has a green cuirass (do) with black trimmings as well as the helmet (kabuto) shaped to be a conical hat, the face mask (menpo), the armoured sleeves (kote), the greaves (suneate), the cuisses (haidate), and the shoulder guards (sode) all the same color and trimmings.
He has multiple other weapons stored in a personal pocket dimension.
One of which is his double bladed black scythe that has the standard long curved blade and a shorter one curving up under it with a space of a body between them.
A long bow
A short bow
About a hundred arrows
Throwing knives(Kunai)
Throwing stars (shuriken)
A few black eggs
A spiked chain
Sickles
Naginata
Rope
A red and black wakizashi
Registered: May 27, 2015 19:21:33 GMT -8
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Post by Nameless Samurai on Feb 18, 2016 12:56:24 GMT -8
The vagabond walked down the path towards the bridge. His was pace slow, but deliberate. He reached his hand into the flap of his uwagi and pulled out the slip of paper. He showed it to a guard before he went past them and continue on.
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Maes
Established
Roleplay posts: 40
Age: 23
Physical Description: Maes is human, and stands at five feet and eight inches, all parts frail and spindly. His skin is a shade of alabaster so pale that dark veins and bright arteries can be seen beneath, sometimes appearing to crawl beneath the flesh of their own volition. His eyes seem the color of a worn road stone, grey and lifeless. Lusterless black hair, several inches too long, dangles from his white scalp in uneven cuts. Despite his graven appearance, no mark of exertion, be it sweat or road-dust, seem to settle on him.
...
Clothes and Equipment: Dark, frayed robes hang from Maes's gaunt frame, as though someone had thrown a bed linen over a wrought iron fence. A jagged looking medallion of opaque white crystal clings to the dark cloth as though the chain on which it dangles is only decoration. In stark contrast, his boots look nearly immaculate, evidence perhaps of a past life of luxury, or merely an opportune acquisition from one who enjoyed it.
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Registered: Feb 20, 2016 17:23:10 GMT -8
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Post by Maes on Feb 27, 2016 16:55:51 GMT -8
Maes's journey from Bayonne had not been grand. What little money he had procured after escaping the Lutin Cartel had been proffered for transportation to the capital city, leaving him none for food or drink. Some days he had managed to find food sources, some days he was lucky enough to have food shared with him. The hunt for water was always the hard part. Having now waterskin, every stream and river he crossed was a life-giving bounty, but he could take none with him.
But he finally stood at the gates of Travere. Once inside the city, he could find food and lodging. Money was easy to come by if you knew where to look.
He appealed to the closest gate guard, but kept his hood low to hide as much of his freakishly pale face as possible. "I seek counsel with the king or his aids on a matter of organized crime within Gauldin. Might you point me in the right direction?"
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Post by The Kingdom of Gauldin on Feb 27, 2016 18:01:28 GMT -8
The guard raises an eyebrow, eyeing the dirty disheveled traveler, with a cross between amusement and disdain.
"Palace is straight down the main street, center of the city. I suggest you clean yourself up first though monsieur."
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Maes
Established
Roleplay posts: 40
Age: 23
Physical Description: Maes is human, and stands at five feet and eight inches, all parts frail and spindly. His skin is a shade of alabaster so pale that dark veins and bright arteries can be seen beneath, sometimes appearing to crawl beneath the flesh of their own volition. His eyes seem the color of a worn road stone, grey and lifeless. Lusterless black hair, several inches too long, dangles from his white scalp in uneven cuts. Despite his graven appearance, no mark of exertion, be it sweat or road-dust, seem to settle on him.
...
Clothes and Equipment: Dark, frayed robes hang from Maes's gaunt frame, as though someone had thrown a bed linen over a wrought iron fence. A jagged looking medallion of opaque white crystal clings to the dark cloth as though the chain on which it dangles is only decoration. In stark contrast, his boots look nearly immaculate, evidence perhaps of a past life of luxury, or merely an opportune acquisition from one who enjoyed it.
...
Registered: Feb 20, 2016 17:23:10 GMT -8
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Post by Maes on Feb 27, 2016 18:03:43 GMT -8
Maes nods at the guard. "I intend to." He then walks past the gate and into the city.
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Robin Fletcher
Committed
Roleplay posts: 84
Age: 23
Physical Description: Robin is 6'1, has shaggy out-grown pure white hair, with bright blue eyes. He tends to always have a stern look on his face, even when he's drunk at the bar. His face is pale, with a decently looking jawline; not too sharp, not too round, attractive.
Clothes and Equipment: He wears an old worn-out suit with a white a lazily done tie to finish off his look. He wears normal old dress shoes and occasionally wears a long tan trench coat. On each side of his belt hangs two long, sheathed blades, loosely strapped in for easy access.
Registered: Oct 17, 2015 17:22:45 GMT -8
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Post by Robin Fletcher on Mar 2, 2016 10:34:17 GMT -8
Robin walked cheerfully towards and through the gates.
"Such a nice day to driiinnk!~" he sung to himself as he passed the guards.
He continued singing as he walked right into the gates.
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Deleted
Roleplay posts: 0
Registered: Nov 21, 2024 6:25:25 GMT -8
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Post by Deleted on Mar 2, 2016 10:35:48 GMT -8
The guards stop Robin for a moment to check his travel permits, but allow him to pass on through.
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Sir Erik The Lifebringer
New
Roleplay posts: 9
Age: 20
Physical Description: 6'5'', very fit, blond hair, blue eyes.
Clothes and Equipment: Steel plate amor over mail, leather, and red cloth shirt. Handmade steel sword with gold hilt, inlaid with a large ruby.
Registered: Mar 7, 2016 6:36:36 GMT -8
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Post by Sir Erik The Lifebringer on Mar 7, 2016 7:32:25 GMT -8
Sir Erik, his armor gleaming bright in the sun, slowly approaches the gate atop his large white Destrier.
He reaches down, and pats his horse on the neck.
"Nearly there Alabaster. We have reached the end of this journey, but the long one is yet to come."
The monstrous Destrier snorts and nods his head as if in agreement, ruffling the fine crimson cloth that covers most of the warhorse.
Sir Erik gazes down from his high mounted seat in the direction of a guard.
"You there. Servant! Allow me passage and direction. The road has given me a thirst."
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Post by The Kingdom of Gauldin on Mar 7, 2016 9:25:03 GMT -8
The guards look at the man, then at the each other. Their expression indicates a sense of: Can you believe this guy? They bicker in Gaulish for a time, until finally one steps forward.
"The gates are open monsieur, there was no need to stop. Though we would like to see your travel papers. Also perhaps you would like to clarify, where you would like directions to?"
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Sir Erik The Lifebringer
New
Roleplay posts: 9
Age: 20
Physical Description: 6'5'', very fit, blond hair, blue eyes.
Clothes and Equipment: Steel plate amor over mail, leather, and red cloth shirt. Handmade steel sword with gold hilt, inlaid with a large ruby.
Registered: Mar 7, 2016 6:36:36 GMT -8
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Post by Sir Erik The Lifebringer on Mar 7, 2016 9:35:22 GMT -8
Erik sighs with impatience, and the aggravation can be heard in his sharp tone, "I need directions to a Tavern. Where else would one tend to a thirst? Are all of you this simple of mind? And I have no need of papers, just as the Gods need none."
Erik's horse, Alabaster, pounds at the stone road beneath him with a heavy, iron-shod hoof as a mist of hot breath is forced through his nostrils. A flash of red shines in Alabaster's black eyes for a brief moment as he closely regards the guard.
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Post by The Kingdom of Gauldin on Mar 7, 2016 11:55:48 GMT -8
The guard talking to Eric looks over his shoulder at his companion. They communicate non verbally, and the other guard takes off. The first guard looks back at Erik.
"Unforuntaly monsieur, I am going to have to ask you to dismount and come with me. As it transpires, even gods need travel papers in Gauldin. This means you need travel papers. Not having them means you skirted out border, which is a crime."
Normally not a huge crime people teleported into Gauldin all the time. But Erik was being rude, so the guards were feeling less than generous. Reinforcements arrive, including two military mages. They eye the man and his massive horse wearily.
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Sir Erik The Lifebringer
New
Roleplay posts: 9
Age: 20
Physical Description: 6'5'', very fit, blond hair, blue eyes.
Clothes and Equipment: Steel plate amor over mail, leather, and red cloth shirt. Handmade steel sword with gold hilt, inlaid with a large ruby.
Registered: Mar 7, 2016 6:36:36 GMT -8
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Post by Sir Erik The Lifebringer on Mar 7, 2016 15:25:50 GMT -8
Erik and Alabaster alike seem to grow darker at the arrival of reinforcements. Normally bright, almost glowing, Erik tilts his head down toward the guard. His pupils transition from a shining blue to black, as if a never ending abyss that absorbed all light. He places his hand on the pommel of his sword while whisps of black energy emminate from his hands.
Alabaster tucks his head with wide eyes turned a full gold; eyes of madness. Steam and licks of flame erupt from his nostrils.
Erik reaches, slowly without removing his piercing gaze from the guard, into a bag on the saddle of his horse. He drops his travel papers at the feet of the guard, his face taking a slight snarl.
"Here are your papers, and I would have you recant your blasphemy against the Gods."
From nowhere on this sunny day, a bolt of lightening strikes the ground behind Erik, creating a blinding flash and an ear splitting crack of thunder. Unflinching, Erik stands his ground in front of the guard.
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Task Force Commandant Viddik
Committed
Roleplay posts: 62
Age: 53
Physical Description: Gregor Viddik, has a face like a hatchet, hard lines and deep scars. His baleful brown eyes, have put a stop to more fights before they began than his reputation. His black hair is streaked with grey and he has been growing it out in recent years. He constantly smoke a cigar that never seems to get any smaller. Everything about Viddik screams do not mess with this man.
Clothes and Equipment: Highly magic resistant breast plate, military mage uniform which supplements his magic regeneration, his staff which amplifies spell power, and finally spokes a lizard that eats magic.
Registered: Dec 29, 2015 19:27:07 GMT -8
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Post by Task Force Commandant Viddik on Mar 7, 2016 16:19:52 GMT -8
The guards seem a bit taken aback, even frightened. The mages begin to step forward, readying spells. Then suddenly a voice like a hammer booms out.
"Just what the hell, do you think you are doing?"
The guards turn to look, and a man with a face like a hatchet stomps out. He is puffing a cigar, and looks extremely pissed. A tiny lizard creature chitters insistently on his shoulder.
"Commandant Viddik, Sir."
The guards salute the man, who ignores them. He stomps right up to the horse, gathering up magical power as he goes. He lets out a puff of smoke right into the horses face. Then he growls up at Erik. His voice so low and menacing, it could be a demon's.
"Listen here you little shit. You were given a direct order, by a member of the city guard. But since I imagine letting off lightning bolts, in a populated area, harms your hearing. I will repeat. Get off your horse, and follow the guard. While you are at it, pick up those papers. Failure to comply will result in one beating, administered by me."
Viddik withdraws his cigar, and puts it out on the palm of his hand.
"Do you understand? Or should I repeat. You seem to have your self righteous head, firmly up your ass. I think that might be another reason, for the issues with your hearing."
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Sir Erik The Lifebringer
New
Roleplay posts: 9
Age: 20
Physical Description: 6'5'', very fit, blond hair, blue eyes.
Clothes and Equipment: Steel plate amor over mail, leather, and red cloth shirt. Handmade steel sword with gold hilt, inlaid with a large ruby.
Registered: Mar 7, 2016 6:36:36 GMT -8
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Post by Sir Erik The Lifebringer on Mar 7, 2016 16:34:29 GMT -8
Erik scowls, but moves off his horse in compliance. With a wave of his hand, Alabaster vanishes.
"I control neither lightning, nor what the gods choose to do with it. If your men have angered the gods for needlessly hindering my path, that is beyond my reach. I will go with you, but I ask for respect, not for me, but for my gods, and I shall return in kind."
Erik's face brightens and returns to normal as he picks up his papers and deposits them in a bag on his belt.
"After all, I am on a great journey given by the gods. What use would it be to start with bloodshed? Perhaps I am meant to seek you first, my foul mouthed friend!"
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Task Force Commandant Viddik
Committed
Roleplay posts: 62
Age: 53
Physical Description: Gregor Viddik, has a face like a hatchet, hard lines and deep scars. His baleful brown eyes, have put a stop to more fights before they began than his reputation. His black hair is streaked with grey and he has been growing it out in recent years. He constantly smoke a cigar that never seems to get any smaller. Everything about Viddik screams do not mess with this man.
Clothes and Equipment: Highly magic resistant breast plate, military mage uniform which supplements his magic regeneration, his staff which amplifies spell power, and finally spokes a lizard that eats magic.
Registered: Dec 29, 2015 19:27:07 GMT -8
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Post by Task Force Commandant Viddik on Mar 7, 2016 19:08:16 GMT -8
Viddik place his cigar back into his mouth. It relights without him touching it. He snorts and gestures, indicating that Erik should follow the guards.
"At least you have some sense. I don't care if you are on a mission from god, or a mission from a wedge of cheese. The only law that counts in Gauldin is the king's. Follow that, and you won't have any more trouble. Act like you are above it, and I'll show you how low you really are."
Erik is shown into a a side room. He is kept waiting for a few hours, then his paper work is looked over. Eventually he is let out, free to enter the city.
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Sir Erik The Lifebringer
New
Roleplay posts: 9
Age: 20
Physical Description: 6'5'', very fit, blond hair, blue eyes.
Clothes and Equipment: Steel plate amor over mail, leather, and red cloth shirt. Handmade steel sword with gold hilt, inlaid with a large ruby.
Registered: Mar 7, 2016 6:36:36 GMT -8
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Post by Sir Erik The Lifebringer on Mar 7, 2016 19:21:11 GMT -8
Erik fixes his hair with a brief stroke of his hand after being released from holding. He strides through the gate into the city with a flash of a smile of perfect white teeth toward the guards.
"Off to do the bidding of the great wheel of cheese!"
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