Yaz-Ra
Established
Roleplay posts: 11
Age: 42
Appearance: A woman with the impressive height of 6'10 and a muscular physique. A true Orc of her tribe who has the multitudes of scars and tribal tattoos to prove her worth. Born with unnaturally grey skin, white hair, and red eyes she was once considered an ill omen amongst her people. Now her appearance sparks joy and prosperity. At least to those who know of the ways. To others her appearance is intimidating, two tusks, one broken and chipped protruding from her ashen lips. One red eye piercing, black pupil small. The other a milky white from blindness caused by a cut across her eye, a nasty scar in its place to tell of the deep wound.
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Equipment: Ceremonial dagger, two huge hand axes, tattoo ink set, few days worth of rations.
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Skills and Abilities: Yaz-Ra only knows one magical spell, the rest of her skills is a testament to her training since she was young. She's strong, but not agile. Think of her more as a boar charging her opponents than out maneuvering them. She knows how to work a net, daggers, spears, axes, etc. Though she prides herself on her ability to make anything a weapon.
Her rage and Orc heritage: Big Orc Strong, Orc have big Constitution, etc. Though one skill that has always almost appeared as magic would be when Yaz-Ra gives into her rage. Her strength seems to increase, but this is only because she lets all inhabitations leave her in pursuit of one thing. To win. To destroy. Ripping apart wood with her bare hands is no trouble.
The Blood Bond: An ancient magic passed down through the clans before. Through the sharing of blood between two individuals they can create a Blood Bond. This bond will connect the two so closely that they will feel a second heartbeat in their chests. Their blood brother or sister’s pain is their pain, their emotions a constant simmer in the back of their minds. Luckily, the death of one is not the death of another, but that does not stop it from being undeniably painful to experience the loss of someone so close.
Hunting: Her own special brand of skilled hunting. She may not fire bows or set too many traps, but she will wrestle a REAL boar to the ground. She even knows how to properly tend to the game she catches.
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Biography: Champion of Ta'kra Socresh, widow of Vakash and Zakii, mother of four, and blood sister to Mresh'Tra. Yaz-Ra is a warrior who has proved her metal countless times throughout her dangerous life. Her homeland housed dangerous beasts and even more dangerous sister tribes that once viewed each other as enemies. She is no stranger to war, but the past 5 years of peace in her homeland has made her softer than she likes to think. So much so, that when strange outsiders came upon their lands uninvited she agreed with her people's shamans that peace with them was the best decision. In order to establish themselves as likely allies, she volunteered herself as this "diplomat" that they called for. Her blood brother, Mresh'Tra agreed to accompany her upon their vessel to their "holy land". Where they would "show them a better life". She had already begun to regret her decision of peace the more they talked, but she kept her head clear and went aboard their boat. Half a month into their journey, her and her blood brother were drugged during their dinner and tied down in the brig as prisoners. The outsiders had never intended peace and were bringing the pair as examples and as "hostages". Proving very clearly they did not understand her people's ways and even further proving their cowardice and disgrace. It was no surprise to her that when she cursed them and asked her Gods to punish the spineless lot that a vicious storm battled their boat, threatening to sink the vessel. But every prayer and ask of the Gods comes with a dark price. One she believes she pays when she washes upon the Isles.
Registered: Dec 1, 2021 18:26:18 GMT -5
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Post by Yaz-Ra on Dec 7, 2021 0:40:21 GMT -5
Yaz-Ra was mostly silent on the way to Ahna's encampment. Though she made it clear she was listening with a few nods or affirming grunts to the Av's explanations. With how peaceful the walk was, Yaz-Ra found herself growing increasingly uncomfortable. Even in the five years of peace in her homeland, there was never a time she could remember where one would not be cautious and watchful to and from their camp. So when even Bahsel showed ease by splashing into the water with glee, it perplexed her.
Instead of focusing on the beautiful land around her, Yaz-Ra tended to the bracer on her arm. She undid the knots, pulling it free to look at the deep cut she'd given herself on her ship. It was a clean-cut, but it appeared red from the irritation of the sea. It didn't particularly help that it crossed over a very similar-looking scar, making the wound appear more like an 'x' and even angrier. The orc clicked her tongue, knowing it would need to be properly cleaned in order to avoid infection. But otherwise, it seemed it had closed itself back up well enough with how tightly bound her bracer had been. She was just refastening the leather when Ahna opened her rickety gate.
Yaz-Ra looked about, observing all of Ahna's camp with consideration before landing on her Vardo. A touch of a smile appeared on the orc's face at the odd home. She'd heard stories of course, but seeing a home with wheels was still a sight to see indeed. "Then home it shall be...Even if I feel I could break your home's wheels with my weight."
She gave Ahna a playful hip bump, which was more of a hip to torso situation that had a little too much oomph behind it. "It is a fine home Ahna. You know how to care for yourself, and that alone proves you more trustworthy. For nothing is more dangerous than a being who has too little or knows not the ways to survive."
She briefly paused, Yaz-Ra rubbing absentmindedly at the dark purple bruising to her side before continuing, "Mm...The wise course of action would be to tend to my wounds first and foremost. There is a reddening cut I must care for, but once that is dealt with perhaps I can assist you with something? If I am to make myself at home as you said, to busy myself would be the best thing to keep me...Sane."
The orc sighed for a moment in thought, then glanced to Ahna, "Sit me down in the best place to tend to them? If you are not busy, perhaps talk with me as I do?"
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Shyv'Ahna
Committed
Roleplay posts: 50
Appearance: Shyv'ahna, or Ahna for short, is an Av' nomad woman, standing at 180cm (6ft) tall. Though tall for a woman, she is in fact the average for most Av' women. She has light lavender skin, intersected by feint tattoos that glow while using magic, her eyes are golden, and her hair a very dark purple. Though mostly humanoid, she possesses a set of bowed legs, not unlike other Av’, and a pair of horns that curl around her ears.
She adorns herself with jewellery, specifically gold caps to her horns, silver and golden rings, two on the right side of her eyebrow, four in her right ear, and one through her septum.
Her body type is strong and toned, forged through years of patient training, fighting, and more travel than most would do in a single life time. It is covered, much like her face, in tattoos, jewelry and the occasional scar, from top to bottom, though most would never know considering her rather conservative wardrobe.
Equipment: Ahna uses medium armour. Leather, light scaled metal, and chainmail make up the most of her regular outfit, but all under a dark blue poncho, adorned with golden stitching and traditional Av'rae patterns that dance across its light blue trim.
Her travelling armour consists of a chain vest and a scaled skirt that reaches her knees around the back and sides, leaving the front open, starting at her belt and fanning out. Over the chain vest, she usually wears a leather corset to keep it in place.
In a trunk inside her vardo, however, sits a much more elegant set of armour, one she hadn’t worn in quite some time, her Elder Guard armour. Forged from the finest metals in dwarven-supervised forges, her Elder Guard armour has both the toughness valued by dwarves, but the mobility favoured by the Av’rae. It’s an elegant suit, tailored and forged to fit Ahna’s form, with its cuirass, graves, skirt, bracers, and boot plating made from the finest mithril, a light but extremely sturdy metal. The trim and under suit are made of a soft, breathable cotton, as is the cape that covers one shoulder.
The helmet of her Elder Guard Armour is ornate, to say the very least. It’s a closed design from back to front, but with openings to slide up around her horns, and a T-shaped visor for her stunning golden eyes to peer out of. The front of the opening is often covered by a thin chain mail for protection, as is her neck guard.
The armour’s colour matches her standard pallet, with the mithril painted mostly in a purple, with its trim painted a fine, reflective gold. The cotton of her armour, such as her undersuit and cape, are a fine dark purple with golden stitching that matches her regular shawl.
Her weapons are just as expertly forged, her primary weapon being a two handed pole weapon most would consider a fauchard, a long pole with an ornate, curved blade attached to the top, the blade on one side of the weapon’s top while a hook sat on the other, giving her the option to slash, stab, and pull as necessary. Though most Av’rae prefer to fight with two handed weapons, Shyv’Ahna also carries an ornate dagger with a similarly curved blade, just in case.
Finally, she is also an adept with a crossbow, though she prefers to fight with her melee prowess.
For transport, Shyv’Ahna has a vardo, a caravan of sorts, that she uses to transport her things as well as live inside with comfort. Being of the nomadic sort, Shyv’Ahna has no desire to a standard home, one that doesn’t move, so a Vardo, pulled by her beast of burden Bahsel, does the trick perfectly.
Bahsel, her beast of burden, is a creature rarely seen without an Av’ companion. Nobody can understand why or how, but the Av’rae are one of the few people to find these creatures’ native land and tame them for both work and protection. Bahsel could be described as a large, muscular porcupine, with thigh legs, built perfectly for work, a thick hide to protect from predators, a pair of large front teeth, perfect for chewing on its usual diet of roots and plants, and finally a back covered in quills that not only stop melee attackers, but can also be shot outwards like a series of javelins, that grow back quicker than most would expect.
Together, Ahna and Bahsel travel the lands, always ready for the next adventure.
Skills and Abilities: Ahna has spent years training and being trained in combat, and she has become an expert fighter with two handed pole weapons, daggers, and hand to hand combat, making her a fierce enemy to face, or one hell of a good sparring partner if you don’t mind a few bruises. She also carries a crossbow, but she mostly uses it for hunting. She’s a great shot, but her preference is found in melee.
Before the end times and the escape from the destroyed lands, Ahna was a strong, and sometimes scary mage. The Av’rae are some of the more magically-tuned folk in the old world, and Ahna was no exception, but after travelling away she can feel her powers weaken, as if stopped by something. Normally she could conjured lightning and electricity in the palm of her hand, powering her attacks while also zapping her enemies as needed, and on the rare occasion, under a cloudy sky and with great inner rage, she could even conjure storms, but no longer. Now, she can barely use her magic at all. Perhaps she just needs to find new ways to channel it…
Being a nomad, Ahna is an expert traveller and guide, able to traverse most terrain and survive in some of the more harsh environments, making her an exceptional pathfinder, if asked nicely and presented with enough gold.
Allegiances: The Av'rae people.
Registered: Mar 23, 2021 0:17:47 GMT -5
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Post by Shyv'Ahna on Dec 7, 2021 1:48:55 GMT -5
Ahna beams with a sense of pride when her living arrangements are praised so highly, but she doesn't give herself too much time to get a big head. As Yaz speaks, Ahna busies herself by removing the barding from her trusty pack animal, allowing his spines to stretch out. After a moment to stretch, the beast plods to his lean-to and flumps himself down on the comfy bedding Ahna had foraged from him.
After putting the barding away in the shed at the far end, giving Yaz a moment to inspect her camp a little further, then dusts her hands as she walks back. "Talk to you?" She asks with a little surprise, walking past Yaz and towards her Vardo. "I intend to help you." She clutches the key that hangs from one of her necklaces and unlocks the back door with a dull thunk, then she disappears inside. The sounds of rummaging emanate from the door as she goes through her things, until finally she steps back out and down the small staircase carrying a small box. "Take a seat," she orders as she walks back to Yaz while gesturing to the stool nearby.
The Av' takes a seat next to Yaz on a small stool and flips the box lid open, releasing the smell of many herbs and remedies into the air. "I've always lived my life like this," she explains, nodding to the camp. "In fact, with less. I rarely make a camp for very long, but coming to this island was no real problem for me. It was just more land to explore." She pulls three jars of pastes, one green, another yellow, and one purple, then she takes Yaz's arm gently, making sure that she knows Ahna intended to help. "Being able to survive on the road has become as easy as anyone who survives in a town." She undoes Yaz's bracer and gently puts it down so she can inspect the wound. "And I built my Vardo myself. It is made for much, much more weight than needed. You won't break it."
She scoops some of the green paste into her hand and spreads it across her fingers before looking back to the Orc. "This will sting." She gives Yaz a second to process before she gently spreads the salve over her wound. It definitely stung, but only in the way a disinfectant could. "Though you may be… welcome… in my home." She looks up from her work, letting her eyes linger on Yaz's body before looking her in the eye, making her point clear. Yes, she had decided that she was indeed attracted to Yaz and it had been a while. If she was interested, well... "It is my home. If you wish to stay in my camp, which I welcome, you will have that cabin." She nodded to the cabin in question. "It will give you privacy as you need it."
She sits up straight as she continues. "As for my work, I am sure I can find you something to do, if you insist, but with these wounds I would recommend rest." She finishes spreading the salve over her wound, then wraps it in a bandage that reeked of a herby remedy. No doubt it had been used before, but it had definitely been cleaned. "How good are you with wood?" She then stands and shifts the stool over before getting a closer look at the bruise on Yaz's side. "How far does this go?" She asks, referring to the spread of her bruise.
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Yaz-Ra
Established
Roleplay posts: 11
Age: 42
Appearance: A woman with the impressive height of 6'10 and a muscular physique. A true Orc of her tribe who has the multitudes of scars and tribal tattoos to prove her worth. Born with unnaturally grey skin, white hair, and red eyes she was once considered an ill omen amongst her people. Now her appearance sparks joy and prosperity. At least to those who know of the ways. To others her appearance is intimidating, two tusks, one broken and chipped protruding from her ashen lips. One red eye piercing, black pupil small. The other a milky white from blindness caused by a cut across her eye, a nasty scar in its place to tell of the deep wound.
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Equipment: Ceremonial dagger, two huge hand axes, tattoo ink set, few days worth of rations.
---------------------------------------------------------------
Skills and Abilities: Yaz-Ra only knows one magical spell, the rest of her skills is a testament to her training since she was young. She's strong, but not agile. Think of her more as a boar charging her opponents than out maneuvering them. She knows how to work a net, daggers, spears, axes, etc. Though she prides herself on her ability to make anything a weapon.
Her rage and Orc heritage: Big Orc Strong, Orc have big Constitution, etc. Though one skill that has always almost appeared as magic would be when Yaz-Ra gives into her rage. Her strength seems to increase, but this is only because she lets all inhabitations leave her in pursuit of one thing. To win. To destroy. Ripping apart wood with her bare hands is no trouble.
The Blood Bond: An ancient magic passed down through the clans before. Through the sharing of blood between two individuals they can create a Blood Bond. This bond will connect the two so closely that they will feel a second heartbeat in their chests. Their blood brother or sister’s pain is their pain, their emotions a constant simmer in the back of their minds. Luckily, the death of one is not the death of another, but that does not stop it from being undeniably painful to experience the loss of someone so close.
Hunting: Her own special brand of skilled hunting. She may not fire bows or set too many traps, but she will wrestle a REAL boar to the ground. She even knows how to properly tend to the game she catches.
-------------------------------------------------------------
Biography: Champion of Ta'kra Socresh, widow of Vakash and Zakii, mother of four, and blood sister to Mresh'Tra. Yaz-Ra is a warrior who has proved her metal countless times throughout her dangerous life. Her homeland housed dangerous beasts and even more dangerous sister tribes that once viewed each other as enemies. She is no stranger to war, but the past 5 years of peace in her homeland has made her softer than she likes to think. So much so, that when strange outsiders came upon their lands uninvited she agreed with her people's shamans that peace with them was the best decision. In order to establish themselves as likely allies, she volunteered herself as this "diplomat" that they called for. Her blood brother, Mresh'Tra agreed to accompany her upon their vessel to their "holy land". Where they would "show them a better life". She had already begun to regret her decision of peace the more they talked, but she kept her head clear and went aboard their boat. Half a month into their journey, her and her blood brother were drugged during their dinner and tied down in the brig as prisoners. The outsiders had never intended peace and were bringing the pair as examples and as "hostages". Proving very clearly they did not understand her people's ways and even further proving their cowardice and disgrace. It was no surprise to her that when she cursed them and asked her Gods to punish the spineless lot that a vicious storm battled their boat, threatening to sink the vessel. But every prayer and ask of the Gods comes with a dark price. One she believes she pays when she washes upon the Isles.
Registered: Dec 1, 2021 18:26:18 GMT -5
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Post by Yaz-Ra on Dec 10, 2021 1:22:33 GMT -5
Yaz-Ra followed after her, but couldn't help raising a brow at the Av's behavior, "You just wish to help so you can finally get your hands on me." A tease on her part that was meant as nothing more as she took a seat on the stool. She briefly feared breaking it, so she rolled her weight forward and onto her heels that were planted to the ground.
The orc watched Ahna remove her bracer, inspecting her wounds. It felt...strange to be tended to this way. To have another willingly spend their time tending to injuries she could easily tend to herself. But she allowed this to happen and thought to herself that perhaps she deserved the spoiling. But at the sting, the orc shut her eyes and took in a deep breath. Suddenly, she didn't feel so spoiled, "Gods...What IS that monstrous paste?"
A rhetorical question really as she opened her eyes again to catch Ahna's lingering look she cast over Yaz. She almost laughed at the blatant display but didn't wish for her bandages to suddenly be too tight if she angered the woman. So she remained silent until asked some questions. The first she couldn't help but answer with a smirk, "According to my late husband, I'm excellent with wood."
At the second question, she merely turned fully to Ahna before grabbing the side of her own bindings and lifting up to reveal the bruise traveled from her mid-side, all the way up to under her armpit and spread just under the rest of her bindings that covered her chest. It was a nasty thing, dark purple, nearly black, and a little swollen, "Far enough for one to wince at...No bones are broken, so this will heal in the weeks to come."
A tilt of her head, her good eye observing Ahna before a playful smirk spread across her face and she couldn't help the teasing that was about to be unleashed, "Are you wanting to tend to this too with one of your little pastes? If you're inclined to worry further, little bruises and scrapes cover all over this body of mine. With your... hands-on approach, I'm sure they would heal easily... But I'm sure you noticed them already with how you've looked at me up to this point. But your gaze surely is only that of a healer tending to the wounded, yes?"
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Shyv'Ahna
Committed
Roleplay posts: 50
Appearance: Shyv'ahna, or Ahna for short, is an Av' nomad woman, standing at 180cm (6ft) tall. Though tall for a woman, she is in fact the average for most Av' women. She has light lavender skin, intersected by feint tattoos that glow while using magic, her eyes are golden, and her hair a very dark purple. Though mostly humanoid, she possesses a set of bowed legs, not unlike other Av’, and a pair of horns that curl around her ears.
She adorns herself with jewellery, specifically gold caps to her horns, silver and golden rings, two on the right side of her eyebrow, four in her right ear, and one through her septum.
Her body type is strong and toned, forged through years of patient training, fighting, and more travel than most would do in a single life time. It is covered, much like her face, in tattoos, jewelry and the occasional scar, from top to bottom, though most would never know considering her rather conservative wardrobe.
Equipment: Ahna uses medium armour. Leather, light scaled metal, and chainmail make up the most of her regular outfit, but all under a dark blue poncho, adorned with golden stitching and traditional Av'rae patterns that dance across its light blue trim.
Her travelling armour consists of a chain vest and a scaled skirt that reaches her knees around the back and sides, leaving the front open, starting at her belt and fanning out. Over the chain vest, she usually wears a leather corset to keep it in place.
In a trunk inside her vardo, however, sits a much more elegant set of armour, one she hadn’t worn in quite some time, her Elder Guard armour. Forged from the finest metals in dwarven-supervised forges, her Elder Guard armour has both the toughness valued by dwarves, but the mobility favoured by the Av’rae. It’s an elegant suit, tailored and forged to fit Ahna’s form, with its cuirass, graves, skirt, bracers, and boot plating made from the finest mithril, a light but extremely sturdy metal. The trim and under suit are made of a soft, breathable cotton, as is the cape that covers one shoulder.
The helmet of her Elder Guard Armour is ornate, to say the very least. It’s a closed design from back to front, but with openings to slide up around her horns, and a T-shaped visor for her stunning golden eyes to peer out of. The front of the opening is often covered by a thin chain mail for protection, as is her neck guard.
The armour’s colour matches her standard pallet, with the mithril painted mostly in a purple, with its trim painted a fine, reflective gold. The cotton of her armour, such as her undersuit and cape, are a fine dark purple with golden stitching that matches her regular shawl.
Her weapons are just as expertly forged, her primary weapon being a two handed pole weapon most would consider a fauchard, a long pole with an ornate, curved blade attached to the top, the blade on one side of the weapon’s top while a hook sat on the other, giving her the option to slash, stab, and pull as necessary. Though most Av’rae prefer to fight with two handed weapons, Shyv’Ahna also carries an ornate dagger with a similarly curved blade, just in case.
Finally, she is also an adept with a crossbow, though she prefers to fight with her melee prowess.
For transport, Shyv’Ahna has a vardo, a caravan of sorts, that she uses to transport her things as well as live inside with comfort. Being of the nomadic sort, Shyv’Ahna has no desire to a standard home, one that doesn’t move, so a Vardo, pulled by her beast of burden Bahsel, does the trick perfectly.
Bahsel, her beast of burden, is a creature rarely seen without an Av’ companion. Nobody can understand why or how, but the Av’rae are one of the few people to find these creatures’ native land and tame them for both work and protection. Bahsel could be described as a large, muscular porcupine, with thigh legs, built perfectly for work, a thick hide to protect from predators, a pair of large front teeth, perfect for chewing on its usual diet of roots and plants, and finally a back covered in quills that not only stop melee attackers, but can also be shot outwards like a series of javelins, that grow back quicker than most would expect.
Together, Ahna and Bahsel travel the lands, always ready for the next adventure.
Skills and Abilities: Ahna has spent years training and being trained in combat, and she has become an expert fighter with two handed pole weapons, daggers, and hand to hand combat, making her a fierce enemy to face, or one hell of a good sparring partner if you don’t mind a few bruises. She also carries a crossbow, but she mostly uses it for hunting. She’s a great shot, but her preference is found in melee.
Before the end times and the escape from the destroyed lands, Ahna was a strong, and sometimes scary mage. The Av’rae are some of the more magically-tuned folk in the old world, and Ahna was no exception, but after travelling away she can feel her powers weaken, as if stopped by something. Normally she could conjured lightning and electricity in the palm of her hand, powering her attacks while also zapping her enemies as needed, and on the rare occasion, under a cloudy sky and with great inner rage, she could even conjure storms, but no longer. Now, she can barely use her magic at all. Perhaps she just needs to find new ways to channel it…
Being a nomad, Ahna is an expert traveller and guide, able to traverse most terrain and survive in some of the more harsh environments, making her an exceptional pathfinder, if asked nicely and presented with enough gold.
Allegiances: The Av'rae people.
Registered: Mar 23, 2021 0:17:47 GMT -5
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Post by Shyv'Ahna on Dec 17, 2021 17:02:48 GMT -5
The Av' didn't bother to answer Yaz at first as she worked, instead focusing on tending to the wound. Ahna had absolute confidence in her pastes and salves and often used them on herself when she needed to. Out in the bushlands, that tended to be often enough so while she knew how effective they were, she also knew all too well how much they sting.
She was examining the bruise along Yaz's side when the wood joke came, causing the Av' to stop and give one of the biggest eye rolls of recent months. Gross. Evidently, she had no love for the male gender, specifically… that part of them. A grumble in her native language comes from between her lips before she shifts her attention back to the Orc, especially when she lifted the bindings and exposed more of the bruise. When the next question came, Ahna slapped the jar of purple paste down onto Yaz's lap and stood up, arms folded. "I was going to use this one to draw out the bruise, but after that comment you can do it yourself." It would be easy, just scoop and apply, but she didn't deserve Ahna's care after that kind of joke. It's possible she was a little grossed out by it, but it seemed more in jest than anything.
Still, the Av' took a seat in her personal chair and crossed one leg over the other. She mulled Yaz's other comment over a little with her eyes dancing over her form as she considered it. She decided to tell the truth. "Not entirely that of a healer," she admitted as she shifted to let her tail slip through the back of the chair. "It was also the gaze of a woman who has not been touched in many… many months, who enjoys the company of your kind a great deal." She gives a light shrug, but she knew the risks in telling the truth were pretty low at that point. Yaz had been just as blatant with her gazes. "I apologise. While my intentions are to honour the alliance between our people and heal you as best I can, I've not been in the presence of someone so…" she waves a hand at Yaz'Ra. "You. Prime orc." Her words still came in the harsh orc tongue, even if the content of those words seemed far more elegant than most would assume from the orc people.
She gives a small smile as she looks back into Yaz' eye. "I have the feeling you have no problem with my wondering eyes, however."
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Yaz-Ra
Established
Roleplay posts: 11
Age: 42
Appearance: A woman with the impressive height of 6'10 and a muscular physique. A true Orc of her tribe who has the multitudes of scars and tribal tattoos to prove her worth. Born with unnaturally grey skin, white hair, and red eyes she was once considered an ill omen amongst her people. Now her appearance sparks joy and prosperity. At least to those who know of the ways. To others her appearance is intimidating, two tusks, one broken and chipped protruding from her ashen lips. One red eye piercing, black pupil small. The other a milky white from blindness caused by a cut across her eye, a nasty scar in its place to tell of the deep wound.
-------------------------------------------------------------
Equipment: Ceremonial dagger, two huge hand axes, tattoo ink set, few days worth of rations.
---------------------------------------------------------------
Skills and Abilities: Yaz-Ra only knows one magical spell, the rest of her skills is a testament to her training since she was young. She's strong, but not agile. Think of her more as a boar charging her opponents than out maneuvering them. She knows how to work a net, daggers, spears, axes, etc. Though she prides herself on her ability to make anything a weapon.
Her rage and Orc heritage: Big Orc Strong, Orc have big Constitution, etc. Though one skill that has always almost appeared as magic would be when Yaz-Ra gives into her rage. Her strength seems to increase, but this is only because she lets all inhabitations leave her in pursuit of one thing. To win. To destroy. Ripping apart wood with her bare hands is no trouble.
The Blood Bond: An ancient magic passed down through the clans before. Through the sharing of blood between two individuals they can create a Blood Bond. This bond will connect the two so closely that they will feel a second heartbeat in their chests. Their blood brother or sister’s pain is their pain, their emotions a constant simmer in the back of their minds. Luckily, the death of one is not the death of another, but that does not stop it from being undeniably painful to experience the loss of someone so close.
Hunting: Her own special brand of skilled hunting. She may not fire bows or set too many traps, but she will wrestle a REAL boar to the ground. She even knows how to properly tend to the game she catches.
-------------------------------------------------------------
Biography: Champion of Ta'kra Socresh, widow of Vakash and Zakii, mother of four, and blood sister to Mresh'Tra. Yaz-Ra is a warrior who has proved her metal countless times throughout her dangerous life. Her homeland housed dangerous beasts and even more dangerous sister tribes that once viewed each other as enemies. She is no stranger to war, but the past 5 years of peace in her homeland has made her softer than she likes to think. So much so, that when strange outsiders came upon their lands uninvited she agreed with her people's shamans that peace with them was the best decision. In order to establish themselves as likely allies, she volunteered herself as this "diplomat" that they called for. Her blood brother, Mresh'Tra agreed to accompany her upon their vessel to their "holy land". Where they would "show them a better life". She had already begun to regret her decision of peace the more they talked, but she kept her head clear and went aboard their boat. Half a month into their journey, her and her blood brother were drugged during their dinner and tied down in the brig as prisoners. The outsiders had never intended peace and were bringing the pair as examples and as "hostages". Proving very clearly they did not understand her people's ways and even further proving their cowardice and disgrace. It was no surprise to her that when she cursed them and asked her Gods to punish the spineless lot that a vicious storm battled their boat, threatening to sink the vessel. But every prayer and ask of the Gods comes with a dark price. One she believes she pays when she washes upon the Isles.
Registered: Dec 1, 2021 18:26:18 GMT -5
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Post by Yaz-Ra on Dec 18, 2021 20:20:38 GMT -5
The orc let out a brief huff of amusement before scooping and applying that purple paste that had gotten slapped on her lap. Even if she had grossed out the Av' in jest, she found herself relieved to distance herself from another's care. Applying the paste to herself would allow her mind to ground itself and remind her that her lips were far too loose with her tasteless jokes. But as Ahna continued, the orc's gaze found hers again, her look contemplative at the honesty that spilled from the woman's lips. "You would be correct. Your gazes please me and are admittedly...a wonderful distraction."
The orc's fingers twitched, only to continue rubbing the paste along her wounds for a few moments as she mulled over her own words. "Something you will find from me Shyv'Ahna is the fact that I deflect many things with humor and suggestion. So I too must apologize. The alliance between our people brings about great trust and...quite an interesting reputation that we orcs talk about during festival nights when we have had plenty to drink."
She allowed her gaze to contain heat in them as she gave Ahna a glance over once more before focusing back at her face. A serious line drew on her lips as she continued, "But just as you have not had a worthy warm body in months, I have just been severed from a blood bond that leaves me feeling empty and desolate. A feeling that can only be remedied with time, a new bond, or a...physical distraction."
Yaz-Ra wordlessly set the purple paste to the side and readjusted her bindings, "My mind settles on thoughts of your beauty and strength. Your challenges to me that you proudly display. Your enjoyment of my people and your attraction to me that you have made abundantly clear. I find my mind whispering of the incredible distractions you could give me if you found you wished to."
It was then that Yaz-Ra stood, her head bent a bit so she could stay locked onto Ahna's gaze. Her fingers twitched as if she restrained some sort of movement with them, "But not this day. So instead, I will rest as you recommended, and tomorrow I will bring myself to cut wood as a distraction. From there...we will see."
Yaz-Ra turned after that, intending to leave the firepit, explore the cabin she was gifted, and rest. Rest and think about all the things she'd slammed in the back of her consciousness that prickled at that empty spot in her chest. The spot where only one heart beat instead of two.
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Shyv'Ahna
Committed
Roleplay posts: 50
Appearance: Shyv'ahna, or Ahna for short, is an Av' nomad woman, standing at 180cm (6ft) tall. Though tall for a woman, she is in fact the average for most Av' women. She has light lavender skin, intersected by feint tattoos that glow while using magic, her eyes are golden, and her hair a very dark purple. Though mostly humanoid, she possesses a set of bowed legs, not unlike other Av’, and a pair of horns that curl around her ears.
She adorns herself with jewellery, specifically gold caps to her horns, silver and golden rings, two on the right side of her eyebrow, four in her right ear, and one through her septum.
Her body type is strong and toned, forged through years of patient training, fighting, and more travel than most would do in a single life time. It is covered, much like her face, in tattoos, jewelry and the occasional scar, from top to bottom, though most would never know considering her rather conservative wardrobe.
Equipment: Ahna uses medium armour. Leather, light scaled metal, and chainmail make up the most of her regular outfit, but all under a dark blue poncho, adorned with golden stitching and traditional Av'rae patterns that dance across its light blue trim.
Her travelling armour consists of a chain vest and a scaled skirt that reaches her knees around the back and sides, leaving the front open, starting at her belt and fanning out. Over the chain vest, she usually wears a leather corset to keep it in place.
In a trunk inside her vardo, however, sits a much more elegant set of armour, one she hadn’t worn in quite some time, her Elder Guard armour. Forged from the finest metals in dwarven-supervised forges, her Elder Guard armour has both the toughness valued by dwarves, but the mobility favoured by the Av’rae. It’s an elegant suit, tailored and forged to fit Ahna’s form, with its cuirass, graves, skirt, bracers, and boot plating made from the finest mithril, a light but extremely sturdy metal. The trim and under suit are made of a soft, breathable cotton, as is the cape that covers one shoulder.
The helmet of her Elder Guard Armour is ornate, to say the very least. It’s a closed design from back to front, but with openings to slide up around her horns, and a T-shaped visor for her stunning golden eyes to peer out of. The front of the opening is often covered by a thin chain mail for protection, as is her neck guard.
The armour’s colour matches her standard pallet, with the mithril painted mostly in a purple, with its trim painted a fine, reflective gold. The cotton of her armour, such as her undersuit and cape, are a fine dark purple with golden stitching that matches her regular shawl.
Her weapons are just as expertly forged, her primary weapon being a two handed pole weapon most would consider a fauchard, a long pole with an ornate, curved blade attached to the top, the blade on one side of the weapon’s top while a hook sat on the other, giving her the option to slash, stab, and pull as necessary. Though most Av’rae prefer to fight with two handed weapons, Shyv’Ahna also carries an ornate dagger with a similarly curved blade, just in case.
Finally, she is also an adept with a crossbow, though she prefers to fight with her melee prowess.
For transport, Shyv’Ahna has a vardo, a caravan of sorts, that she uses to transport her things as well as live inside with comfort. Being of the nomadic sort, Shyv’Ahna has no desire to a standard home, one that doesn’t move, so a Vardo, pulled by her beast of burden Bahsel, does the trick perfectly.
Bahsel, her beast of burden, is a creature rarely seen without an Av’ companion. Nobody can understand why or how, but the Av’rae are one of the few people to find these creatures’ native land and tame them for both work and protection. Bahsel could be described as a large, muscular porcupine, with thigh legs, built perfectly for work, a thick hide to protect from predators, a pair of large front teeth, perfect for chewing on its usual diet of roots and plants, and finally a back covered in quills that not only stop melee attackers, but can also be shot outwards like a series of javelins, that grow back quicker than most would expect.
Together, Ahna and Bahsel travel the lands, always ready for the next adventure.
Skills and Abilities: Ahna has spent years training and being trained in combat, and she has become an expert fighter with two handed pole weapons, daggers, and hand to hand combat, making her a fierce enemy to face, or one hell of a good sparring partner if you don’t mind a few bruises. She also carries a crossbow, but she mostly uses it for hunting. She’s a great shot, but her preference is found in melee.
Before the end times and the escape from the destroyed lands, Ahna was a strong, and sometimes scary mage. The Av’rae are some of the more magically-tuned folk in the old world, and Ahna was no exception, but after travelling away she can feel her powers weaken, as if stopped by something. Normally she could conjured lightning and electricity in the palm of her hand, powering her attacks while also zapping her enemies as needed, and on the rare occasion, under a cloudy sky and with great inner rage, she could even conjure storms, but no longer. Now, she can barely use her magic at all. Perhaps she just needs to find new ways to channel it…
Being a nomad, Ahna is an expert traveller and guide, able to traverse most terrain and survive in some of the more harsh environments, making her an exceptional pathfinder, if asked nicely and presented with enough gold.
Allegiances: The Av'rae people.
Registered: Mar 23, 2021 0:17:47 GMT -5
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Post by Shyv'Ahna on Dec 21, 2021 6:45:45 GMT -5
Ahna watched for a few moments as the orc tendered to her battered body, but soon distracted herself by reaching into a pouch that was slung over the back of her chair, obvious by that point that it was her personal one, and pulled out a small bag of pipeweed, then her ornate, hand whittled pipe. She packed it tight as the orc slathered the paste over her bruise and looked up only occasionally before putting the pipe between her lips. She reached a finger up to the pope's bowl and with the glow of her tattoos, an arc of lighting zapped from her finger tips, lighting the pipe. She pulled in a long drag, then released a small cloud of blue smoke.
A smile crossed Ahna's lips as her suspicions were confirmed, but she let the orc continue uninterrupted. That smile turned into a proud one as her people's reputation was spoken of, knowing full well where it came from, and just how true it was. Orc kind's opinion of the Av'rae could not be further from the humans' opinions. Where they would shun her or drive her off, Orcs generally rejoiced at her people's arrival.
She remained quiet when she saw the orc's good eye lingering over her body, instead choosing only to flex her exposed abdomen and shoulders, which surprisingly brought a slight blush to her purple cheeks. She hadn't been looked at like that in months. It was a welcome change. Her flexing stopped as Yaz' face grew serious, and she found herself nodding along to her as she spoke, understanding the Importance of her words. Ahna knew that feeling all too well, even though she dealt with it differently. Mostly by being grumpy and pissed at herself for not realising her feelings at the time.
Finally, it was her turn to speak. "I find it hard to get your own unique beauty out of my mind," she says, still speaking in the Orcish tongue. By the gods it felt good to be so forward, the humans enjoyed beating bushes far too much. "The feelings are mutual, and though I will be the first to admit that something… physical…" she lets that linger in the air for a moment. "Is something my mind can't escape, and if you'd permit me being so forward, I have gotten to a point where I would greatly enjoy your company in that way, but I wouldn't dare while you are in this state." She pulled the mouth piece of the pipe from her mouth and gestured at Yaz' body. "You would fall apart."
She stood as Yaz turned, and quickly put a hand on her shoulder, her eyes looking up into Yaz'. "When you feel your strength return, then we can revisit this… thing we have here. We do not need to hide our attraction, not within these fences, perhaps a little harness flirtation will help you along, but please do rest."
She gestured to the small cabin which seemed to look more inviting by the moment, even if it seemed Yaz had to duck down slightly to get inside. "Sleep, we have a few hours of daylight left before night falls. I will wake you when dinner is prepared. I have a fresh kill from this morning, it will fuel the forge within quickly enough. Perhaps you will even regale me with stories of your past?"
With that, she gave Yaz' a swift slap to the rear, then stepped out off the way to let her past.
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Yaz-Ra
Established
Roleplay posts: 11
Age: 42
Appearance: A woman with the impressive height of 6'10 and a muscular physique. A true Orc of her tribe who has the multitudes of scars and tribal tattoos to prove her worth. Born with unnaturally grey skin, white hair, and red eyes she was once considered an ill omen amongst her people. Now her appearance sparks joy and prosperity. At least to those who know of the ways. To others her appearance is intimidating, two tusks, one broken and chipped protruding from her ashen lips. One red eye piercing, black pupil small. The other a milky white from blindness caused by a cut across her eye, a nasty scar in its place to tell of the deep wound.
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Equipment: Ceremonial dagger, two huge hand axes, tattoo ink set, few days worth of rations.
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Skills and Abilities: Yaz-Ra only knows one magical spell, the rest of her skills is a testament to her training since she was young. She's strong, but not agile. Think of her more as a boar charging her opponents than out maneuvering them. She knows how to work a net, daggers, spears, axes, etc. Though she prides herself on her ability to make anything a weapon.
Her rage and Orc heritage: Big Orc Strong, Orc have big Constitution, etc. Though one skill that has always almost appeared as magic would be when Yaz-Ra gives into her rage. Her strength seems to increase, but this is only because she lets all inhabitations leave her in pursuit of one thing. To win. To destroy. Ripping apart wood with her bare hands is no trouble.
The Blood Bond: An ancient magic passed down through the clans before. Through the sharing of blood between two individuals they can create a Blood Bond. This bond will connect the two so closely that they will feel a second heartbeat in their chests. Their blood brother or sister’s pain is their pain, their emotions a constant simmer in the back of their minds. Luckily, the death of one is not the death of another, but that does not stop it from being undeniably painful to experience the loss of someone so close.
Hunting: Her own special brand of skilled hunting. She may not fire bows or set too many traps, but she will wrestle a REAL boar to the ground. She even knows how to properly tend to the game she catches.
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Biography: Champion of Ta'kra Socresh, widow of Vakash and Zakii, mother of four, and blood sister to Mresh'Tra. Yaz-Ra is a warrior who has proved her metal countless times throughout her dangerous life. Her homeland housed dangerous beasts and even more dangerous sister tribes that once viewed each other as enemies. She is no stranger to war, but the past 5 years of peace in her homeland has made her softer than she likes to think. So much so, that when strange outsiders came upon their lands uninvited she agreed with her people's shamans that peace with them was the best decision. In order to establish themselves as likely allies, she volunteered herself as this "diplomat" that they called for. Her blood brother, Mresh'Tra agreed to accompany her upon their vessel to their "holy land". Where they would "show them a better life". She had already begun to regret her decision of peace the more they talked, but she kept her head clear and went aboard their boat. Half a month into their journey, her and her blood brother were drugged during their dinner and tied down in the brig as prisoners. The outsiders had never intended peace and were bringing the pair as examples and as "hostages". Proving very clearly they did not understand her people's ways and even further proving their cowardice and disgrace. It was no surprise to her that when she cursed them and asked her Gods to punish the spineless lot that a vicious storm battled their boat, threatening to sink the vessel. But every prayer and ask of the Gods comes with a dark price. One she believes she pays when she washes upon the Isles.
Registered: Dec 1, 2021 18:26:18 GMT -5
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Post by Yaz-Ra on Jan 2, 2022 21:11:18 GMT -5
A soft huff of laughter flutters from the orc, her gaze bemused, but warm at the words. It was most definitely wonderful to hear praises of her own beauty, which merely rekindled the idea of being with this strong woman before her. Even if the idea of 'falling apart' seemed unlikely to her, she would most definitely like to see her try. At the pap to her rear, she'd get her usual orcish grin back for a moment, only for her to respectfully nod to Ahna, "We will revisit this feeling between us. When and where...we'll have to see when the time comes." Yaz-Ra put her own hand on Ahna's shoulder, "I will recount my stories to you if you grant me the same in return...By dinner time I will be much more cheerful and in the mood for sharing...Until then, Shyv'Ahna." With that, she walked past the Av', heading into the cabin and shutting herself in for some privacy. The woman stared without purpose at the inside. Gaze quickly becoming clouded as she walked through listlessly, occasionally acknowledging what lay inside or how high the ceiling was. Eventually, she found herself sitting on what would pass for her bed this night. Her elbows on her knees as her hands found themselves clasped and pressed to her lips. Her staring continued, boring holes in the nearest wall as she thought of her delay of the inevitable. A pained look etched itself into her expression, her eyes reluctantly locking with the hidden blood-bond marking behind her bracer. Agony overtook her face then, her singular heartbeat far too quiet for her liking. The ache of emptiness was ever-present in her chest as she rubbed over where the second heartbeat used to be, almost as if to ease it. Once it was made clear this would not soothe her, she took to oh so tenderly sliding the back of her hand across her bracer. "To you who once shared the blood in this body, I make this vow." Yaz-Ra swallowed, her now shaking hand gripping onto the bracer so that she may continue her final words without it distracting her, "I will atone for our sacrifice and the pain I have brought to you by living this life knowing I will never break another oath again. To you who brought me comfort with familial bond, I promise, not another shall replace your marking as brother." Yaz-Ra took in a shaky breath, holding it as she grit her teeth, fighting the burn simmering beneath her eyes, "As my final wish and request of you, I ask that you forgive me...that you find another to be blood-bound to you and bring you solace in the emptiness I have forced upon you. May you find your way home, bringing news of the devastation of your sister's demise... May you be welcomed in with open arms and a vengeful spirit. May our people grow stronger from your return, and may you one day forget the betrayal of my actions to save you." Her head raised, eyes still staring at the hidden mark but with her chin held high, "I, former champion of Ta'kra Socresh give this title freely to you Mresh'Tra. For you survived our greatest enemy and the betrayal of the once champion. You have proved yourself worthy, and know you have my blessing and admiration for your honorable actions. Know that it was not you who brought about the Gods' wrath, but your..." A chuckle threatened to break her words, "Aptly named foolish sister. Bring tidings of war little brother. Bring to our people the preparation needed to survive. For I, Yaz-Ra the Heart Taker can now only dream of the home we made together." Her eyes shut after this declaration, holding a few moments of silence for the next words she would utter, "To my young, know that I am proud of you. Know that you will always be a part of me, as I am of you. You are strong, you are brilliant, and you are so like the warriors before you that you needn't fear this loss. You will grow from this. You will bond from this. You will look to Mresh'Tra and guide him as I know you will. From my loss, comes the tribe's strength. From my presumed death comes the clan's prosperity." A single, ignored tear glimmers as it trails along the harshness of the orc's face. Gliding across countless scars and tiny bruising, only to drip down to her chin and fall as if it had never existed, "My heart, while singular, will beat for you all. Nothing in this strange land will silence it while I think of you. For you are all my strength and all my love. I will mourn you for eternity and will know no greater love than what you provided me. I can only hope to find a worthwhile connection that will fill this crippling emptiness I have brought." Yaz-Ra's eyes flicked up in thought, mulling over what she would say next once more. This silence continued for some time until she spoke to herself again, "May this new bond with Shyv'Ahna of clan Teslaya be fruitful. May it be not a moment to pass the pain, but a worthwhile bonding. May it be friendship, kinship, or whatever the Gods foretell. For this crushing emptiness will not be solved alone." Her rough hand slid across her face, flicking the wetness it felt away with a huff. Apparently, she had been growing far too soft in her time with peace. But now that her time of weakness was dealt with, she laid on her side and shut her eyes, willing sleep to her so that she could smile brilliantly at her new companion when the time came. ---- The glorious and scrumptious smell of meat brought pleasant memories to an awakening Yaz-Ra. A smile touched her lips as she wondered what they would have this day. Was it moose? Bore? Some new and wild beast a younger hunter had found? She knew they would be looking to show it off to her, as all the younger hunters usually did. The orc chuckled and stretched her limbs, feeling many aches and pains that she would most certainly live through. What had happened for there to be these pains? Had she wrestled the Brakanor---Her eyes snapped open as the memories flooded her mind, dousing her pleased mood as if ice water had been dumped on her. The orc lay there, mulling over everything. The boat and her actions, her meeting with Ahna, their parting words before her short nap, and her mourning words for her tribe. Her eyes shut as she took in a deep breath, only to sit up as she exhaled. A neutral look to her face as she stood up and righted herself. She had promised her new companion stories and merriment and that was what she would do. Any need to bury herself away being squashed in an instant. With another push, she'd find herself out of the cabin again, eyes looking about before locking onto Ahna cooking the meat. She walked forward slowly, not wanting to surprise the woman by any means as she called out, "You've been busy." |
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Shyv'Ahna
Committed
Roleplay posts: 50
Appearance: Shyv'ahna, or Ahna for short, is an Av' nomad woman, standing at 180cm (6ft) tall. Though tall for a woman, she is in fact the average for most Av' women. She has light lavender skin, intersected by feint tattoos that glow while using magic, her eyes are golden, and her hair a very dark purple. Though mostly humanoid, she possesses a set of bowed legs, not unlike other Av’, and a pair of horns that curl around her ears.
She adorns herself with jewellery, specifically gold caps to her horns, silver and golden rings, two on the right side of her eyebrow, four in her right ear, and one through her septum.
Her body type is strong and toned, forged through years of patient training, fighting, and more travel than most would do in a single life time. It is covered, much like her face, in tattoos, jewelry and the occasional scar, from top to bottom, though most would never know considering her rather conservative wardrobe.
Equipment: Ahna uses medium armour. Leather, light scaled metal, and chainmail make up the most of her regular outfit, but all under a dark blue poncho, adorned with golden stitching and traditional Av'rae patterns that dance across its light blue trim.
Her travelling armour consists of a chain vest and a scaled skirt that reaches her knees around the back and sides, leaving the front open, starting at her belt and fanning out. Over the chain vest, she usually wears a leather corset to keep it in place.
In a trunk inside her vardo, however, sits a much more elegant set of armour, one she hadn’t worn in quite some time, her Elder Guard armour. Forged from the finest metals in dwarven-supervised forges, her Elder Guard armour has both the toughness valued by dwarves, but the mobility favoured by the Av’rae. It’s an elegant suit, tailored and forged to fit Ahna’s form, with its cuirass, graves, skirt, bracers, and boot plating made from the finest mithril, a light but extremely sturdy metal. The trim and under suit are made of a soft, breathable cotton, as is the cape that covers one shoulder.
The helmet of her Elder Guard Armour is ornate, to say the very least. It’s a closed design from back to front, but with openings to slide up around her horns, and a T-shaped visor for her stunning golden eyes to peer out of. The front of the opening is often covered by a thin chain mail for protection, as is her neck guard.
The armour’s colour matches her standard pallet, with the mithril painted mostly in a purple, with its trim painted a fine, reflective gold. The cotton of her armour, such as her undersuit and cape, are a fine dark purple with golden stitching that matches her regular shawl.
Her weapons are just as expertly forged, her primary weapon being a two handed pole weapon most would consider a fauchard, a long pole with an ornate, curved blade attached to the top, the blade on one side of the weapon’s top while a hook sat on the other, giving her the option to slash, stab, and pull as necessary. Though most Av’rae prefer to fight with two handed weapons, Shyv’Ahna also carries an ornate dagger with a similarly curved blade, just in case.
Finally, she is also an adept with a crossbow, though she prefers to fight with her melee prowess.
For transport, Shyv’Ahna has a vardo, a caravan of sorts, that she uses to transport her things as well as live inside with comfort. Being of the nomadic sort, Shyv’Ahna has no desire to a standard home, one that doesn’t move, so a Vardo, pulled by her beast of burden Bahsel, does the trick perfectly.
Bahsel, her beast of burden, is a creature rarely seen without an Av’ companion. Nobody can understand why or how, but the Av’rae are one of the few people to find these creatures’ native land and tame them for both work and protection. Bahsel could be described as a large, muscular porcupine, with thigh legs, built perfectly for work, a thick hide to protect from predators, a pair of large front teeth, perfect for chewing on its usual diet of roots and plants, and finally a back covered in quills that not only stop melee attackers, but can also be shot outwards like a series of javelins, that grow back quicker than most would expect.
Together, Ahna and Bahsel travel the lands, always ready for the next adventure.
Skills and Abilities: Ahna has spent years training and being trained in combat, and she has become an expert fighter with two handed pole weapons, daggers, and hand to hand combat, making her a fierce enemy to face, or one hell of a good sparring partner if you don’t mind a few bruises. She also carries a crossbow, but she mostly uses it for hunting. She’s a great shot, but her preference is found in melee.
Before the end times and the escape from the destroyed lands, Ahna was a strong, and sometimes scary mage. The Av’rae are some of the more magically-tuned folk in the old world, and Ahna was no exception, but after travelling away she can feel her powers weaken, as if stopped by something. Normally she could conjured lightning and electricity in the palm of her hand, powering her attacks while also zapping her enemies as needed, and on the rare occasion, under a cloudy sky and with great inner rage, she could even conjure storms, but no longer. Now, she can barely use her magic at all. Perhaps she just needs to find new ways to channel it…
Being a nomad, Ahna is an expert traveller and guide, able to traverse most terrain and survive in some of the more harsh environments, making her an exceptional pathfinder, if asked nicely and presented with enough gold.
Allegiances: The Av'rae people.
Registered: Mar 23, 2021 0:17:47 GMT -5
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Post by Shyv'Ahna on Jan 6, 2022 8:39:13 GMT -5
The Av' gave Yaz'Ra a respectful nod at the promise of stories, and she would be sure to return them, but otherwise she said nothing. Instead she contented herself with watching Yaz head into the cabin she had built with a sense of pride welling up inside. It had been built for a townsfolk human to stay in while she was away, the one she would hire to tend to her chickens and the small garden she had just started recently. To have an Orc as the first one to stay there made her more proud than she could have hoped.
Once the Orc had headed inside, she busied herself with her own to-do list. She had heard some brief talking coming from the cabin, but she found it was best to ignore it as best she could. If it wasn't said to her, it likely wasn't her business.
Meanwhile, the cabin itself was small, there was no mistaking it, but it was clean and cozy. The wooden floors had been sanded expertly to avoid splinters, and packed tightly together over a bed of stones, giving it some insulation and weather protection. Ahna could do better, she knew that, but the materials to do so were rare and she was still holding them in reserve for bigger projects.
There was a single bed along the back wall, with pelts tightly packed over a wide sack of mostly straw as a mattress. While the straw gave it a softer feel, the pelts were stretchered and layered just right to stop anyone from being pocked by a rouge straw-end, making the arrangement rather comfortable. The pillow was more of the same, just a lot smaller, but the quilt was more hides and furs than anything else. Soft and warm, on the island that was the name of the game.
Below the window that sat beside the door was a table with a single chair, an old empty pitcher, a cup, plate, and a knife and fork that Ahna had procured specifically for whoever was to take up temporary residence there. They didn't look particularly fancy, but they were functional enough.
Finally, in the corner at the end of the bed, stood a small, cylindrical stove with a chimney reaching up and out of the roof, one where someone could either use it to warm the small cabin, or place a frying pan on top and do a spot of cooking. All in all, Ahna had done a bang up job! It was no Vardo, but it would so nicely.
Later that evening…
Yaz would immediately spot Ahna sitting in her chair by the fire, illuminated by the glow of the firepit itself and the streaks of orange sunset light that shone through the trees to the west. She had changed a little since Yaz had last seen her, instead of wearing just a wrap around her chest she wore the full Av'rae garb, wearing a purple, poncho-like shawl with its golden trim that covered her from neck to waist, along with a matching hood that obscured her features from the side, save for the horns that stuck out if a pair of slits, each one topped with gold caps and chains.
In her hands sits a small string instrument that she idly and quietly picks at, playing along to a tune she was humming. The instrument itself didn't seem nearly as ornate as the rest of the Av', but it did look well used and well loved in Ahna's bejewelled hands, with its worn wooden casing and smoothed curves where it sat on her knee. Where her arms left the shawl to pluck at the strings, Yaz could likely see the sleeves of a silken shirt beneath that was a far darker purple than her lighter shawl and pants.
The end of her pipe was still placed between her lips as she slowly and absent-mindedly puffed on the herby, sweet smelling pipeweed she had packed it with earlier. Following the long, droopy pipe, Yaz might notice the Av's almost-black purple hair had been washed, brushed, and pulled into a braid that hung down the front her right shoulder, easily reaching down to her chest, and decorated with a few golden clasps.
Finally, the Av's boot sat on a small wedge that, as she pressed it down a series of pullies shifted that caused the large animal thigh that sat over the fire to gently spin on its spit, dripping fats and oils onto a pan of herbs between it and the fire. Judging by the smell, the Av' had been using the spoon that sat in the pan to ladle the mixture back over the meat as it cooked, giving it a wonderfully mearty, herby aroma.
As the Orc speaks, Ahna's humming stops abruptly and she almost jumps as her daydreaming was interrupted, as if she hadn't been expecting Yaz. She coughs once after inhaling a jolt of pipesmoke, then clears her throat, a little embarrassed about being snuck up on. She gently placed the instrument down and pulled the pipe from her mouth before she checked to make sure she hadn't blown the pipeweed out. Still tightly packed, good.
It took her a second, but she finally spoke. "Ahem. Yes, I have been. Apologies if I woke you at any point, I tried to let you rest as best as I could. I wasn't going to wake you for another…" she pushed her foot down again, giving the spit a bit more energy as it turned. "Half an hour? Around there."
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Yaz-Ra
Established
Roleplay posts: 11
Age: 42
Appearance: A woman with the impressive height of 6'10 and a muscular physique. A true Orc of her tribe who has the multitudes of scars and tribal tattoos to prove her worth. Born with unnaturally grey skin, white hair, and red eyes she was once considered an ill omen amongst her people. Now her appearance sparks joy and prosperity. At least to those who know of the ways. To others her appearance is intimidating, two tusks, one broken and chipped protruding from her ashen lips. One red eye piercing, black pupil small. The other a milky white from blindness caused by a cut across her eye, a nasty scar in its place to tell of the deep wound.
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Equipment: Ceremonial dagger, two huge hand axes, tattoo ink set, few days worth of rations.
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Skills and Abilities: Yaz-Ra only knows one magical spell, the rest of her skills is a testament to her training since she was young. She's strong, but not agile. Think of her more as a boar charging her opponents than out maneuvering them. She knows how to work a net, daggers, spears, axes, etc. Though she prides herself on her ability to make anything a weapon.
Her rage and Orc heritage: Big Orc Strong, Orc have big Constitution, etc. Though one skill that has always almost appeared as magic would be when Yaz-Ra gives into her rage. Her strength seems to increase, but this is only because she lets all inhabitations leave her in pursuit of one thing. To win. To destroy. Ripping apart wood with her bare hands is no trouble.
The Blood Bond: An ancient magic passed down through the clans before. Through the sharing of blood between two individuals they can create a Blood Bond. This bond will connect the two so closely that they will feel a second heartbeat in their chests. Their blood brother or sister’s pain is their pain, their emotions a constant simmer in the back of their minds. Luckily, the death of one is not the death of another, but that does not stop it from being undeniably painful to experience the loss of someone so close.
Hunting: Her own special brand of skilled hunting. She may not fire bows or set too many traps, but she will wrestle a REAL boar to the ground. She even knows how to properly tend to the game she catches.
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Biography: Champion of Ta'kra Socresh, widow of Vakash and Zakii, mother of four, and blood sister to Mresh'Tra. Yaz-Ra is a warrior who has proved her metal countless times throughout her dangerous life. Her homeland housed dangerous beasts and even more dangerous sister tribes that once viewed each other as enemies. She is no stranger to war, but the past 5 years of peace in her homeland has made her softer than she likes to think. So much so, that when strange outsiders came upon their lands uninvited she agreed with her people's shamans that peace with them was the best decision. In order to establish themselves as likely allies, she volunteered herself as this "diplomat" that they called for. Her blood brother, Mresh'Tra agreed to accompany her upon their vessel to their "holy land". Where they would "show them a better life". She had already begun to regret her decision of peace the more they talked, but she kept her head clear and went aboard their boat. Half a month into their journey, her and her blood brother were drugged during their dinner and tied down in the brig as prisoners. The outsiders had never intended peace and were bringing the pair as examples and as "hostages". Proving very clearly they did not understand her people's ways and even further proving their cowardice and disgrace. It was no surprise to her that when she cursed them and asked her Gods to punish the spineless lot that a vicious storm battled their boat, threatening to sink the vessel. But every prayer and ask of the Gods comes with a dark price. One she believes she pays when she washes upon the Isles.
Registered: Dec 1, 2021 18:26:18 GMT -5
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Post by Yaz-Ra on Feb 5, 2022 4:07:52 GMT -5
Yaz-Ra let herself observe Ahna in all her glory. The full Av'rae garb immediately caught her attention as she couldn't help the joyed look that passed across her features. Surely if she ever met another orc who shared her people's appreciation for the Av, this moment would be one considered a mystical tale. While the Av had always been very real allies, the long absence of having seen them had made Ahna's people more of a wonderful fairytale. (Much like how a human may view a 'beautiful and magical elf'.) So, at this moment, to Yaz-Ra, she couldn't help but believe that if Ahna had met her while decorated in such a way as she was now, that Yaz-Ra would have initially believed her a hallucination. A mystical being of stories made real to aid her in her time of need.
"No apologies necessary Shyv'Ahna, you had not woken me." An amused twinkle appeared in her eye as she crossed her arms over her chest, "Though perhaps it is for the best I awoke by myself. Seeing you out in your Av'rae garb would have surely made me believe I was still dreaming. It's...enchanting."
The orc walked closer, putting a hand on her own chin in thought as she stared over Ahna, "Hmmm..." A playful frown skewed her lips, allowing her tusks to become more prominent against her grey skin, "It is perhaps...too enchanting. How suspicious...Surely you have not used your magical gifts to trick the previous champion of Ta'kra Socresh?"
Yaz-Ra had fully intended to continue her teasing, as she was want to do, but couldn't keep her playful front up for long as that wonderful smell of meat and herbs hit her nose. Her gaze instantly flicked over to the animal thigh, her stomach growling loud enough to make it obvious she had other priorities, "Mm, you're preparing that wonderfully...Is there a task you would like me to do to help, or shall I give you my enticing company instead?"
She motioned to the cooking meat in high spirits, "I recall us speaking of making merriment while telling the stories of the past tonight."
The orc tilted her head at the instrument that Ahna held, now recalling that she had been humming before being startled by the tall woman's appearance, "Hm, we could even add a bit of music to this night if you feel inclined."
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Shyv'Ahna
Committed
Roleplay posts: 50
Appearance: Shyv'ahna, or Ahna for short, is an Av' nomad woman, standing at 180cm (6ft) tall. Though tall for a woman, she is in fact the average for most Av' women. She has light lavender skin, intersected by feint tattoos that glow while using magic, her eyes are golden, and her hair a very dark purple. Though mostly humanoid, she possesses a set of bowed legs, not unlike other Av’, and a pair of horns that curl around her ears.
She adorns herself with jewellery, specifically gold caps to her horns, silver and golden rings, two on the right side of her eyebrow, four in her right ear, and one through her septum.
Her body type is strong and toned, forged through years of patient training, fighting, and more travel than most would do in a single life time. It is covered, much like her face, in tattoos, jewelry and the occasional scar, from top to bottom, though most would never know considering her rather conservative wardrobe.
Equipment: Ahna uses medium armour. Leather, light scaled metal, and chainmail make up the most of her regular outfit, but all under a dark blue poncho, adorned with golden stitching and traditional Av'rae patterns that dance across its light blue trim.
Her travelling armour consists of a chain vest and a scaled skirt that reaches her knees around the back and sides, leaving the front open, starting at her belt and fanning out. Over the chain vest, she usually wears a leather corset to keep it in place.
In a trunk inside her vardo, however, sits a much more elegant set of armour, one she hadn’t worn in quite some time, her Elder Guard armour. Forged from the finest metals in dwarven-supervised forges, her Elder Guard armour has both the toughness valued by dwarves, but the mobility favoured by the Av’rae. It’s an elegant suit, tailored and forged to fit Ahna’s form, with its cuirass, graves, skirt, bracers, and boot plating made from the finest mithril, a light but extremely sturdy metal. The trim and under suit are made of a soft, breathable cotton, as is the cape that covers one shoulder.
The helmet of her Elder Guard Armour is ornate, to say the very least. It’s a closed design from back to front, but with openings to slide up around her horns, and a T-shaped visor for her stunning golden eyes to peer out of. The front of the opening is often covered by a thin chain mail for protection, as is her neck guard.
The armour’s colour matches her standard pallet, with the mithril painted mostly in a purple, with its trim painted a fine, reflective gold. The cotton of her armour, such as her undersuit and cape, are a fine dark purple with golden stitching that matches her regular shawl.
Her weapons are just as expertly forged, her primary weapon being a two handed pole weapon most would consider a fauchard, a long pole with an ornate, curved blade attached to the top, the blade on one side of the weapon’s top while a hook sat on the other, giving her the option to slash, stab, and pull as necessary. Though most Av’rae prefer to fight with two handed weapons, Shyv’Ahna also carries an ornate dagger with a similarly curved blade, just in case.
Finally, she is also an adept with a crossbow, though she prefers to fight with her melee prowess.
For transport, Shyv’Ahna has a vardo, a caravan of sorts, that she uses to transport her things as well as live inside with comfort. Being of the nomadic sort, Shyv’Ahna has no desire to a standard home, one that doesn’t move, so a Vardo, pulled by her beast of burden Bahsel, does the trick perfectly.
Bahsel, her beast of burden, is a creature rarely seen without an Av’ companion. Nobody can understand why or how, but the Av’rae are one of the few people to find these creatures’ native land and tame them for both work and protection. Bahsel could be described as a large, muscular porcupine, with thigh legs, built perfectly for work, a thick hide to protect from predators, a pair of large front teeth, perfect for chewing on its usual diet of roots and plants, and finally a back covered in quills that not only stop melee attackers, but can also be shot outwards like a series of javelins, that grow back quicker than most would expect.
Together, Ahna and Bahsel travel the lands, always ready for the next adventure.
Skills and Abilities: Ahna has spent years training and being trained in combat, and she has become an expert fighter with two handed pole weapons, daggers, and hand to hand combat, making her a fierce enemy to face, or one hell of a good sparring partner if you don’t mind a few bruises. She also carries a crossbow, but she mostly uses it for hunting. She’s a great shot, but her preference is found in melee.
Before the end times and the escape from the destroyed lands, Ahna was a strong, and sometimes scary mage. The Av’rae are some of the more magically-tuned folk in the old world, and Ahna was no exception, but after travelling away she can feel her powers weaken, as if stopped by something. Normally she could conjured lightning and electricity in the palm of her hand, powering her attacks while also zapping her enemies as needed, and on the rare occasion, under a cloudy sky and with great inner rage, she could even conjure storms, but no longer. Now, she can barely use her magic at all. Perhaps she just needs to find new ways to channel it…
Being a nomad, Ahna is an expert traveller and guide, able to traverse most terrain and survive in some of the more harsh environments, making her an exceptional pathfinder, if asked nicely and presented with enough gold.
Allegiances: The Av'rae people.
Registered: Mar 23, 2021 0:17:47 GMT -5
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Post by Shyv'Ahna on Feb 8, 2022 5:54:16 GMT -5
Where most who gawked and stared at the Av' would have been met with a glare and possibly a threat of violence, Yaz'Ra's gaze was instead welcomed and judging by the blush that krept across Ahna's light purple cheek, very much appreciated. While the orc distracted herself with her thoughts of wonder and possibly more, Ahna couldn't help but return the favour, finding that Yaz was truly a sight to behold. She had met many orcs in her time, most she now counts among her friends, but none were quite like her new companion. Had the gods above finally given her a gift, or was it just a coincidence such a perfect specimen would cross her path? One that was certainly enjoying the sight of the Av', at that. Ahna would have to offer up a prayer in thanks for the first time in a long time that night…
She looks up when Yaz finally speaks and her words quickly darken the blush on Ahna's cheeks. Even though they conversed in the gutteral, almost brutal orc tongue, the meanings flowed like a fine wine; sophisticaged, appreciated dearly by those who understood it, and better yet - a little intoxicating. "If being a warrior did not suit you, you would have made a fine battle poet. Your words flatter me in ways I have not experienced in a long while." She waved a hand gently, letting the numerous rings glint in the firelight that bathed it's warm glow over her. "I am capable of a few magic's, but most I gather from the storm." A spark of lightning jolted from her index finger to her pinky, then a long chain connected each finger before dissipating with a spark. "The rest are not illusionary. I am as I appear." She bowed her head slightly as she spoke, humbled by Yaz'Ra and her flattery.
It was secondly only to her enthusiasm for Ahna's cooking though! "Tasks?" The Av' asks, putting a harsh accent on the Orcish word. "The day is done, my friend. There is only one task left." She lifted a hand and gestured to a wooden chair near the fire, one with a handy foot rest sat before it. "Sit by the fire with me and enjoy what is left of the evening. I would appreciate no other company as much as I do yours."
The Av's foot gently pushed on the wedge that spun the meat, which seemed to be nearing perfection, but not quite. "There is much merriment to be had, more so than any time in the past several months. While I have my friends, there are none as… intriguing, nor attractive as you." She didn't mince her words, and it was particularly hard for her to lie in Orcish. Her accent would always slip, but that night it was flawless. "And yes, I want to hear more about you. A grand warrior as yourself must have incredible stories to tell, and if you impress me, I may reward you in song." The smile that crossed her lips was sweet and sincere as she spoke, and her golden eyes remained fixed to Yaz'Ra's.
"But first…" Her eyes drifted a moment down the orc's form. "How do you feel? Your bruising looks less… angry than before."
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Yaz-Ra
Established
Roleplay posts: 11
Age: 42
Appearance: A woman with the impressive height of 6'10 and a muscular physique. A true Orc of her tribe who has the multitudes of scars and tribal tattoos to prove her worth. Born with unnaturally grey skin, white hair, and red eyes she was once considered an ill omen amongst her people. Now her appearance sparks joy and prosperity. At least to those who know of the ways. To others her appearance is intimidating, two tusks, one broken and chipped protruding from her ashen lips. One red eye piercing, black pupil small. The other a milky white from blindness caused by a cut across her eye, a nasty scar in its place to tell of the deep wound.
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Equipment: Ceremonial dagger, two huge hand axes, tattoo ink set, few days worth of rations.
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Skills and Abilities: Yaz-Ra only knows one magical spell, the rest of her skills is a testament to her training since she was young. She's strong, but not agile. Think of her more as a boar charging her opponents than out maneuvering them. She knows how to work a net, daggers, spears, axes, etc. Though she prides herself on her ability to make anything a weapon.
Her rage and Orc heritage: Big Orc Strong, Orc have big Constitution, etc. Though one skill that has always almost appeared as magic would be when Yaz-Ra gives into her rage. Her strength seems to increase, but this is only because she lets all inhabitations leave her in pursuit of one thing. To win. To destroy. Ripping apart wood with her bare hands is no trouble.
The Blood Bond: An ancient magic passed down through the clans before. Through the sharing of blood between two individuals they can create a Blood Bond. This bond will connect the two so closely that they will feel a second heartbeat in their chests. Their blood brother or sister’s pain is their pain, their emotions a constant simmer in the back of their minds. Luckily, the death of one is not the death of another, but that does not stop it from being undeniably painful to experience the loss of someone so close.
Hunting: Her own special brand of skilled hunting. She may not fire bows or set too many traps, but she will wrestle a REAL boar to the ground. She even knows how to properly tend to the game she catches.
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Biography: Champion of Ta'kra Socresh, widow of Vakash and Zakii, mother of four, and blood sister to Mresh'Tra. Yaz-Ra is a warrior who has proved her metal countless times throughout her dangerous life. Her homeland housed dangerous beasts and even more dangerous sister tribes that once viewed each other as enemies. She is no stranger to war, but the past 5 years of peace in her homeland has made her softer than she likes to think. So much so, that when strange outsiders came upon their lands uninvited she agreed with her people's shamans that peace with them was the best decision. In order to establish themselves as likely allies, she volunteered herself as this "diplomat" that they called for. Her blood brother, Mresh'Tra agreed to accompany her upon their vessel to their "holy land". Where they would "show them a better life". She had already begun to regret her decision of peace the more they talked, but she kept her head clear and went aboard their boat. Half a month into their journey, her and her blood brother were drugged during their dinner and tied down in the brig as prisoners. The outsiders had never intended peace and were bringing the pair as examples and as "hostages". Proving very clearly they did not understand her people's ways and even further proving their cowardice and disgrace. It was no surprise to her that when she cursed them and asked her Gods to punish the spineless lot that a vicious storm battled their boat, threatening to sink the vessel. But every prayer and ask of the Gods comes with a dark price. One she believes she pays when she washes upon the Isles.
Registered: Dec 1, 2021 18:26:18 GMT -5
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Post by Yaz-Ra on Feb 19, 2022 20:54:30 GMT -5
Yaz-Ra gave a sagely nod as she watched Ahna give off a spark of lightning from her index finger to her pinky. It was an impressive sight, one she could never understand. Even when the shamans in her tribe had demonstrated for her time and time again. The only magic that ever made sense to her was the blood bond. There was symbolism in it and of the sharing of life between two individuals. Though to Yaz-Ra, one needn't be blessed with magical gifts to connect their life with another.
The orc quickly snapped out of her musing as Ahna graciously offered the chair nearby. Yaz-Ra's amusement was clear on her face as she took to sitting on the chair, even putting her feet up on the footrest that accompanied it. Crossing her ankles one over the other in contentment. The moment the beautiful Av mentioned she wanted to hear the stories that Yaz-Ra had, the orc smiled and was seconds away from recounting her countless tales. It was only the mention of her injuries that stopped her, "Mm...I still ache, but I can tell there's nothing of deep concern. The bruising will be tender and I will feel as if my bones creak for a few weeks, but overall I am well. Better after resting."
She let them sit in silence for a few moments after that, contemplating and watching Ahna use her expert cooking skills to make them a wonderful meal. Until a story finally came to her, "A tale that may just impress you is the battle that graced me with the title "Heart-Taker"."
Yaz-Ra chuckled as she thought about where to start...But with a nod and a focused stare she'd begin, "While I'm quite the specimen, it wasn't earned from the swooning of the many orcs in my tribe. Instead, it was the Battle of Akt'ah's Hellish Ire." A wistful look came to Yaz-Ra as she gazed into the fire as if she were recounting the time herself, only to look back to Ahna, "19 or so years ago, from dawn till dusk we battled a fellow orc tribe that we now consider to be very close friends. I was a newer fighter, one dreaming of proving myself and destroying the ill reputation my birth had bestowed upon me."
The orc dragged her feet off the footrest and set them to the ground, only to bend forward with a nasty little grin on her face, "The lesser warriors thought to pick me off first. Full-grown orcs, both men and women came for my head as if I were a fly they meant to swat and be done with. If they missed, then they were sure I would be sneaky and dodge. They prepared for that, but what they did not prepare for was when their axes bounced back. Even if they were bigger and older, they hadn't been stronger. Not with the amount I worked night and day to prepare for that exact moment."
Her grin grew menacing as she reached an arm out, making a fist as if she were clutching something, "And when this grey orc grew full of rage and battle lust, almost as if by magic I grew stronger. So strong that my hand burst through their chests, grabbed their hearts, and," She violently ripped her hand back from where she had extended it, "tore them out."
The orc stood and looked up to her fist that she now raised above her head, "I crushed their hearts above me, bathed and drank their blood to horrify and anger their allies. To call them to me. To do so was a foolish thing, but a moment I cannot keep my heart pounding from when I remember it."
Amusement showed on her face as she once more looked back to Ahna and bent down, motioning to her one blind eye, "This was also when they slashed my eye and blinded me. But by the time they had landed their shot I had already crushed over 15 of their ally's hearts amid battle. I'd gone from grey to red quite quickly then."
She snickered a bit at that before sitting on the footrest itself, completely unaware how the average person may find that story horrifying, "Should I recount another story, or would you wish to bestow upon me the gift of one of yours...Or perhaps a song after we eat... if I have already impressed you?"
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Shyv'Ahna
Committed
Roleplay posts: 50
Appearance: Shyv'ahna, or Ahna for short, is an Av' nomad woman, standing at 180cm (6ft) tall. Though tall for a woman, she is in fact the average for most Av' women. She has light lavender skin, intersected by feint tattoos that glow while using magic, her eyes are golden, and her hair a very dark purple. Though mostly humanoid, she possesses a set of bowed legs, not unlike other Av’, and a pair of horns that curl around her ears.
She adorns herself with jewellery, specifically gold caps to her horns, silver and golden rings, two on the right side of her eyebrow, four in her right ear, and one through her septum.
Her body type is strong and toned, forged through years of patient training, fighting, and more travel than most would do in a single life time. It is covered, much like her face, in tattoos, jewelry and the occasional scar, from top to bottom, though most would never know considering her rather conservative wardrobe.
Equipment: Ahna uses medium armour. Leather, light scaled metal, and chainmail make up the most of her regular outfit, but all under a dark blue poncho, adorned with golden stitching and traditional Av'rae patterns that dance across its light blue trim.
Her travelling armour consists of a chain vest and a scaled skirt that reaches her knees around the back and sides, leaving the front open, starting at her belt and fanning out. Over the chain vest, she usually wears a leather corset to keep it in place.
In a trunk inside her vardo, however, sits a much more elegant set of armour, one she hadn’t worn in quite some time, her Elder Guard armour. Forged from the finest metals in dwarven-supervised forges, her Elder Guard armour has both the toughness valued by dwarves, but the mobility favoured by the Av’rae. It’s an elegant suit, tailored and forged to fit Ahna’s form, with its cuirass, graves, skirt, bracers, and boot plating made from the finest mithril, a light but extremely sturdy metal. The trim and under suit are made of a soft, breathable cotton, as is the cape that covers one shoulder.
The helmet of her Elder Guard Armour is ornate, to say the very least. It’s a closed design from back to front, but with openings to slide up around her horns, and a T-shaped visor for her stunning golden eyes to peer out of. The front of the opening is often covered by a thin chain mail for protection, as is her neck guard.
The armour’s colour matches her standard pallet, with the mithril painted mostly in a purple, with its trim painted a fine, reflective gold. The cotton of her armour, such as her undersuit and cape, are a fine dark purple with golden stitching that matches her regular shawl.
Her weapons are just as expertly forged, her primary weapon being a two handed pole weapon most would consider a fauchard, a long pole with an ornate, curved blade attached to the top, the blade on one side of the weapon’s top while a hook sat on the other, giving her the option to slash, stab, and pull as necessary. Though most Av’rae prefer to fight with two handed weapons, Shyv’Ahna also carries an ornate dagger with a similarly curved blade, just in case.
Finally, she is also an adept with a crossbow, though she prefers to fight with her melee prowess.
For transport, Shyv’Ahna has a vardo, a caravan of sorts, that she uses to transport her things as well as live inside with comfort. Being of the nomadic sort, Shyv’Ahna has no desire to a standard home, one that doesn’t move, so a Vardo, pulled by her beast of burden Bahsel, does the trick perfectly.
Bahsel, her beast of burden, is a creature rarely seen without an Av’ companion. Nobody can understand why or how, but the Av’rae are one of the few people to find these creatures’ native land and tame them for both work and protection. Bahsel could be described as a large, muscular porcupine, with thigh legs, built perfectly for work, a thick hide to protect from predators, a pair of large front teeth, perfect for chewing on its usual diet of roots and plants, and finally a back covered in quills that not only stop melee attackers, but can also be shot outwards like a series of javelins, that grow back quicker than most would expect.
Together, Ahna and Bahsel travel the lands, always ready for the next adventure.
Skills and Abilities: Ahna has spent years training and being trained in combat, and she has become an expert fighter with two handed pole weapons, daggers, and hand to hand combat, making her a fierce enemy to face, or one hell of a good sparring partner if you don’t mind a few bruises. She also carries a crossbow, but she mostly uses it for hunting. She’s a great shot, but her preference is found in melee.
Before the end times and the escape from the destroyed lands, Ahna was a strong, and sometimes scary mage. The Av’rae are some of the more magically-tuned folk in the old world, and Ahna was no exception, but after travelling away she can feel her powers weaken, as if stopped by something. Normally she could conjured lightning and electricity in the palm of her hand, powering her attacks while also zapping her enemies as needed, and on the rare occasion, under a cloudy sky and with great inner rage, she could even conjure storms, but no longer. Now, she can barely use her magic at all. Perhaps she just needs to find new ways to channel it…
Being a nomad, Ahna is an expert traveller and guide, able to traverse most terrain and survive in some of the more harsh environments, making her an exceptional pathfinder, if asked nicely and presented with enough gold.
Allegiances: The Av'rae people.
Registered: Mar 23, 2021 0:17:47 GMT -5
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Post by Shyv'Ahna on Mar 14, 2022 7:36:07 GMT -5
Ahna had a silent moment of glee as Yaz'Ra took the offered seat, but only showed it through a small smile across her purple lips, which only grew as the orc spoke of her wounds healing. Ahna would be lying if she'd said she wasn't looking forward to the orc regaining her strength, but she kept that under wraps for the moment. She had waited several months, she could wait a few more days.
As Yaz began recounting her tale, the Av'' sat back in her chair and gently puffed on the end of her pipe, listening intently. The only times she moved was to lean toward and ladle the grease and stew back over the hunk of meat that smelled oh so divine. She didn't seem put off by the orc's tale or battle and savagery, she had heard many similar tales before from their kind. Most of them embellished their glory, some more dramatically than others, but she wasn't about to mention that part to Yaz. It was far more interesting to speculate to herself about what was real and what wasn't.
"Quite the tale," she finally spoke, blue smoke billowing from her mouth and nose as Yaz finished. "And you tell it with such passion, it reminds me of the days of old when I briefly travelled with your kind. Tales of battles and glory to be won, but yours is quickly becoming one of my favourites." She gives the orc a sweet smile, the movement making her facial jewelry glint in the firelight. "Perhaps because it is you who tells it, but I won't dwell on asking why."
She leaned forward and produced a knife from her waist sheath, and began carving into the meat, releasing the smells of perfectly cooked red meat. "Or perhaps it was because you impressed me the moment I saw your arms. Your tale has only served to improve that." She placed a few slices on a rather nice looking plate, nicer than one would expect on a cast away island like the one they found themselves on, and even added a few vegetables that had been cooking under the greasy gravy of the meat. Not conventional, but she knew many orcs who liked it that way. After adding a knife and fork and handing it all to Yaz'Ra, she cut herself a much smaller portion.
"My tales… are vastly different to the ones your people would tell," she admits as she cut into what seemed to be some form of potato. "It is true, I have been in many fights and I have been forced to claim lives, but I have only ever been in one… battle…" she looked down at her meal a moment before speaking again. "Perhaps I'll tell you about that one some day, but not tonight."
She took a moment to think of a tale she could spin before she cut into the meat of her meal. "I do have many tales of the hunt," she mused. "They are easier to speak of, at least, and they come much more frequently to me. Even before coming here, I would get my meals myself, hunting local wildlife, but there were times I was not alone."
"I was once traveling through the mountains of Kurabesh, north of the orc holds we are familiar with, a land of danger and mystery. Many had warned me of such a place, but I had no other choice, or I thought so at least." She shifted two of her vegetables and ran her knife between them, illustrating the valley she spoke of. "I was making good time, Bahsel and I had not been hindered by the ever changing terrain or beasts that were told to live there, I had thought they were all just stories. Perhaps it was to keep outsiders like me out, or just a silly little story to keep travellers on edge. It all seemed too easy."
"We finally made camp after pushing deep into the valley, amongst the rocks and granite that made those desolate mountains. It was seemingly lifeless, but I knew game tracks when I saw them. I set up my Vardo for the night, detached Bahsel for a rest, and I set off to find dinner." She looked up into Yaz's eye before she continued. "I quickly found good prints and thought they perhaps belonged to a goat, one that would make for a good roast and keep me fed for days. The tracks were big and my stomach growled with hunger, so I followed them quietly, tip towing through the rocky crags with my crossbow in hand, ready to take the shot when I found it."
"But I was not alone. In my excitement and hunger, I neglected to survey my surroundings, and to look for any eyes that could be watching me. A hornling's mistake, one I have not made since, for as I stepped into the open, expecting to see my prized goat, I was met with the deafening roar of a razor beast! It had been hunting me as I did the goat, following me for a time, silently moving from rock to rock and taking advantage of my naivety."
She stabbed into a piece of meat and lifted it high for a moment. "It lifted me in its tusks, swinging off my feet and into the air," the meat sailed at the end of the fork as she lifted it, then she drove it back down into the gravy with a little splat. "I lost my crossbow in my panicked flight and most of my quiver with it, but all thoughts of it were lost when I crashed back down to earth with enough force to steal the very breath from my chest."
"I had no time to orient myself," she continued as she rolled a potato across her plate. "I felt its tusks under me again, pushing and rolling me from side to side, some say I was lucky not to be trampled or gored, but I think he was playing with me, toying with the naive hunter before he would end me and feast on my bones." She shoved the fork into her potato, holding it still. "Then it pounced, pinning my bruised body to the ground, and in its eyes I saw hunger, rage, and that primal instinct. I was looking death in the eyes." Her eyes went back to Yaz', wide and wild, imitating the wild, bipedal boar-like beast. "Then I felt it. A rush like no other. Thunder cracked in the sky above and the wind began to howl, a storm I had not anticipating was rolling in, but my mind was elsewhere, fixated on the panick, fear, and dread I felt in the very pit of my stomach." She lifted a hand and clicked her fingers, igniting a spark between them. "Lightning struck through the darkening sky, and with it a sense of power I had never felt before. It channeled through me, igniting the tattoos I had decorated my body with, before erupting from my hands with the boom of Lok'Tor's anvil. Lightning struck the beast in the chest, driving him back for a moment." She threw a hand out, followed by the small crack and flash of a lightning bolt in the centre of her palm, but she quickly pulls it back to stop her plate from falling from her lap.
"I knew of my kinship with the storm, it was what the world had chosen for me as a girl, but to channel it like that was new to me. Even as I stole the moment of the beast's pain and confusion to stand on my own two feet, I could not believe nor remember how it had happened, but I had no time to think on it. I only had time to pull my knife and face down the beast." She pulled her knife from the meat on the spit, then she slashed it through the air. "The razor beast charged me, it's claws and tusks ready to tear me to shreds, but I narrowly avoided it while delivering a slice of my own to its chest, but it only served to enrage it. Time and time again it charged me, and each time I barely escaped death. I was quickly growing tired, but the beast was only invigorated by its rage."
She slashed twice more, then dropped the knife to the ground. "Finally, it had me. I stumbled, my aching, exhausted feet no longer able to keep up, and he landed a blow across my thigh, leaving its mark on my body that I carry to this day." She extended three fingers and dragged them across the outside of her right thigh. "It cut deep, clean through leather and chain like it was silk, and through my flesh and blood."
"Rage and pain flew through my body like a banshee in the night, screaming and howling through my veins." Her tattoos began to glow as she spoke, illuminating her face and glowing through the gaps in her clothes. "The wind howled around me as I screamed, blood spilling from my wounds, but instead of death I welcomed something else, something powerful into my body. I became the storm itself, shrouding myself with the wind and lightning from above, and with this power I drove the storm through my arms and hands, and into the beast's chest, burning and seating it's hide and flesh. Its roars of anguish and pain only pushed me forward, forcing the storm into his body and out the other side." Lightning crackled along her horns and arms for a moment before her tattoos dimmed, dissipating the magic.
"I lost control for a moment, but with one last crack of thunder it was done. The razorbeast lay dead at my feet, then I fell too. I remember laying on the rocky ground, crying and heaving from the pain, and the warmth of rage was soon replaced by the chill of my blood leaving me. I thought I was to die, alone on the side of a forgotten mountain… but my luck did not abandon me that day." She peered to the side where Bahsel lay sleeping under his shelter, snoring peacefully amongst the shrubs and hay. "My trusted friend Bahsel came to my side, and with him my saviours." She looked back to Yaz. "Two dwarfs and an orc, unlikely travelling companions. I didn't hear their words before It slipped into unconsciousness."
She let her words hang for a moment before she plucked her last potato up and plopped it in her mouth. "The next thing I remember was waking in my Vardo, feeling numb and woozy. My leg was bandaged and partly healed, the work of shaman and bonesaw, combined to heal an Av' like me. I was still weak from the battle and the loss of blood, so it didn't take much for my saviours to force me into accepting their help."
She smiled as she remembered those faces. Two male dwarfs and their female shaman orc companion. Friends to this day in Ahna's eyes. "They explained to me they had come to see what had caused a storm to suddenly appear, only to find me and the beast. Apparently it was no coincidence a storm had rolled in, but instead it was the work of magic. My magic. Something in me formed the elements above, fuelling me powers and giving me the strength to survive, but I refused to believe them. It wasn't until I spoke with people of my own kind that I believed it, and later yet until I could control it."
"That was the day I became the storm," she explained. "My people had always been one with magic, but not many could channel it like that, and when I finally found how to control it I became a force to be reckoned with, but it was rare I had use for it. Very rare…" she clicked her fingers again, producing a small spark. "But this island has sapped me of my potency. It has for all casters, I believe. I have enough to fight with, and to use as tools, but the storm has dissipated. My rage only fuels a fraction of what it once did."
She let out a small sigh and picked up her fork again, plucking the last bit of meat from her plate. "Oh, and the razor beast was delicious, by the way. Not worth the fight, but it certainly sped up my recovery." She ate the last piece and chewed for a moment. "Apologies, that story went on… I always get caught up in that one. The storm was something I held near and dear to my heart."
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Grandma
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 144
Age: Appears to be in her 80's
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Appearance: An elderly woman with a wiry frame who most notably possesses unnatural height, standing at well over seven feet tall even when hunched over her cane. Her hair is grayish-white and normally done up in a bun and her eyes are also gray in color. Her skin is very pale and has an almost grayish hue to it. Her nails are long, black, and sharpened at the tip.
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Equipment: She wears a deep purple robe that has sleeves that extend far beyond her hands. Her hands are covered with fine gloves of black silk and she wears one ring on each, one having a purple stone set in it and the other a piece of onyx. Carrying an ornate cane of orellium, Grandma can use it to increase her magical channeling as well as assist in deflecting others' spells with it. The cane itself is black and covered in numerous ornate, but tiny runes. The cap on the cane is a purplish-colored gem. On her wrist is a silver bracelet with a ruby in it that Grandma uses for communication with others who own similar bracelets.
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Skills and Abilities: Skilled at knitting!
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Biography: While the details of Grandma's past are shrouded in mystery, since first meeting Naoki she has served essentially one role, that of advisor. While her titles have varied as Naoki moved up the social ladder of Isra, her continued support, and assistance she offered to Naoki have never wavered.
Even following the destruction of Isra, Grandma continues to follow and offer guidance to Lady Naoki as they attempt to rebuild from the wreckage.
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Allegiances: Naoki
Place of Residence: Port Argentium
Registered: Mar 16, 2021 19:51:53 GMT -5
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Post by Grandma on Sept 9, 2023 13:01:25 GMT -5
Grandma strolled through the forest at a leisurely pace, making little effort to hide her presence. Twigs snapped underfoot and shrubbery russled as her robe occasionally brushed up against them. She had been meaning to visit Shyv’Ahna sooner, but a few matters had come up and then those few matters turned into many and before she knew it… Well, no matter. She was here now.
Despite not living in town, it seemed Shyv’Ahna was doing better for herself than most. Several wooden structures in addition to the Vardo, of course. It was very respectable progress for a single person to pull off. Perhaps she’d traded her own services for assistance in construction or perhaps she’d done this all herself? Maybe Grandma would inquire about that, assuming she was home today that is.
Approaching one of the basic gates, Grandma looked down at the sign and read it with an amused grin. She doubted it’d keep anyone honest off the property, but that probably wasn’t its purpose. More a warning to keep honest people from finding themselves getting bonked on the head. Deciding that knocking on the gate with her cane wouldn’t be a particularly effective way of announcing her arrival, Grandma instead decided to just call out.
“Anyone home this fine afternoon?” Her eyes scanned the Vardo and other structures for any sign of Shyv’Ahna as she waited for a reply.
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Shyv'Ahna
Committed
Roleplay posts: 50
Appearance: Shyv'ahna, or Ahna for short, is an Av' nomad woman, standing at 180cm (6ft) tall. Though tall for a woman, she is in fact the average for most Av' women. She has light lavender skin, intersected by feint tattoos that glow while using magic, her eyes are golden, and her hair a very dark purple. Though mostly humanoid, she possesses a set of bowed legs, not unlike other Av’, and a pair of horns that curl around her ears.
She adorns herself with jewellery, specifically gold caps to her horns, silver and golden rings, two on the right side of her eyebrow, four in her right ear, and one through her septum.
Her body type is strong and toned, forged through years of patient training, fighting, and more travel than most would do in a single life time. It is covered, much like her face, in tattoos, jewelry and the occasional scar, from top to bottom, though most would never know considering her rather conservative wardrobe.
Equipment: Ahna uses medium armour. Leather, light scaled metal, and chainmail make up the most of her regular outfit, but all under a dark blue poncho, adorned with golden stitching and traditional Av'rae patterns that dance across its light blue trim.
Her travelling armour consists of a chain vest and a scaled skirt that reaches her knees around the back and sides, leaving the front open, starting at her belt and fanning out. Over the chain vest, she usually wears a leather corset to keep it in place.
In a trunk inside her vardo, however, sits a much more elegant set of armour, one she hadn’t worn in quite some time, her Elder Guard armour. Forged from the finest metals in dwarven-supervised forges, her Elder Guard armour has both the toughness valued by dwarves, but the mobility favoured by the Av’rae. It’s an elegant suit, tailored and forged to fit Ahna’s form, with its cuirass, graves, skirt, bracers, and boot plating made from the finest mithril, a light but extremely sturdy metal. The trim and under suit are made of a soft, breathable cotton, as is the cape that covers one shoulder.
The helmet of her Elder Guard Armour is ornate, to say the very least. It’s a closed design from back to front, but with openings to slide up around her horns, and a T-shaped visor for her stunning golden eyes to peer out of. The front of the opening is often covered by a thin chain mail for protection, as is her neck guard.
The armour’s colour matches her standard pallet, with the mithril painted mostly in a purple, with its trim painted a fine, reflective gold. The cotton of her armour, such as her undersuit and cape, are a fine dark purple with golden stitching that matches her regular shawl.
Her weapons are just as expertly forged, her primary weapon being a two handed pole weapon most would consider a fauchard, a long pole with an ornate, curved blade attached to the top, the blade on one side of the weapon’s top while a hook sat on the other, giving her the option to slash, stab, and pull as necessary. Though most Av’rae prefer to fight with two handed weapons, Shyv’Ahna also carries an ornate dagger with a similarly curved blade, just in case.
Finally, she is also an adept with a crossbow, though she prefers to fight with her melee prowess.
For transport, Shyv’Ahna has a vardo, a caravan of sorts, that she uses to transport her things as well as live inside with comfort. Being of the nomadic sort, Shyv’Ahna has no desire to a standard home, one that doesn’t move, so a Vardo, pulled by her beast of burden Bahsel, does the trick perfectly.
Bahsel, her beast of burden, is a creature rarely seen without an Av’ companion. Nobody can understand why or how, but the Av’rae are one of the few people to find these creatures’ native land and tame them for both work and protection. Bahsel could be described as a large, muscular porcupine, with thigh legs, built perfectly for work, a thick hide to protect from predators, a pair of large front teeth, perfect for chewing on its usual diet of roots and plants, and finally a back covered in quills that not only stop melee attackers, but can also be shot outwards like a series of javelins, that grow back quicker than most would expect.
Together, Ahna and Bahsel travel the lands, always ready for the next adventure.
Skills and Abilities: Ahna has spent years training and being trained in combat, and she has become an expert fighter with two handed pole weapons, daggers, and hand to hand combat, making her a fierce enemy to face, or one hell of a good sparring partner if you don’t mind a few bruises. She also carries a crossbow, but she mostly uses it for hunting. She’s a great shot, but her preference is found in melee.
Before the end times and the escape from the destroyed lands, Ahna was a strong, and sometimes scary mage. The Av’rae are some of the more magically-tuned folk in the old world, and Ahna was no exception, but after travelling away she can feel her powers weaken, as if stopped by something. Normally she could conjured lightning and electricity in the palm of her hand, powering her attacks while also zapping her enemies as needed, and on the rare occasion, under a cloudy sky and with great inner rage, she could even conjure storms, but no longer. Now, she can barely use her magic at all. Perhaps she just needs to find new ways to channel it…
Being a nomad, Ahna is an expert traveller and guide, able to traverse most terrain and survive in some of the more harsh environments, making her an exceptional pathfinder, if asked nicely and presented with enough gold.
Allegiances: The Av'rae people.
Registered: Mar 23, 2021 0:17:47 GMT -5
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Post by Shyv'Ahna on Sept 13, 2023 16:59:22 GMT -5
A twig snapping nearby coaxed Bah'sel from his slumber. He lay on his side, basking lazily in the warm afternoon sun without a care in the world, but his dreams of root vegetables and chasing butterflies had come to an end. He let out a low grunt and groan as his hulking body stretched out and flopped onto his belly. After a smack of his lips and a bleary eyed blink he sniffed at the air and turned towards the camp entrance. Another cracked twig piqued his ears and he lumbered forward, grunting quietly as he moved.
Inside her Vardo, Ahna sat at her table with knife and wood in hand, peering from the window and wondering what had interested the porcupine-like beast of burden from his sleep. After his afternoon meal he was usually out until the sun began to set and he joined her by the fire, but there were still several hours of warm sunlight left. That only meant one thing - visitors, and she wasn't expecting any today, not even a delivery.
She plucked her ornate pipe from between her lips and clicked her tongue in annoyance as she stood, then pulled on a shirt and her usual purple poncho that she was usually seen in. Her jewellery clicked and chimed from her horns to her hands as she made herself presentable. Whether it be a friend or someone who needed to be told off, she wasn't about to go about it half naked.
She picked up her pipe and deposited it back between her teeth before grabbing her project and knife, then made for the Vardo door, annoyed about having to actually talk to someone that day. She didn't need to go to town, and her projects, while finished, were not due for delivery for two more days. Typical.
She leaned out of the open top half of her Vardo door and grumpily looked out towards her camp's entrance, her golden eyes peering out from under her hood. Bah'sel had approached whoever it was with curiosity from behind the gate, so it took a moment to see who it was, but then Ahna heard her, which forced a blink in surprise.
"Bah'sel," she called out, opening the bottom half of her door and leaning against the frame. "Tar amach as sin." She had not yet met anyone who could speak her native tongue, but she still insisted on its use, even if it was just for her friend. The beast of burden obliged by giving the guest one more sniff, then he moved back towards his spot in the middle of camp. With a whump and a grunt he laid back down in the sun.
"The Grandmother of New Isra," Ahna said, light blue smoke whisping from her mouth as she spoke. There was no smile on her face, but instead a curious look. "Unexpected." She cut some wood from the block she was whittling, considering things for a moment, then she gestured for Grandma to approach. "Close the gate behind you."
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Grandma
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 144
Age: Appears to be in her 80's
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Appearance: An elderly woman with a wiry frame who most notably possesses unnatural height, standing at well over seven feet tall even when hunched over her cane. Her hair is grayish-white and normally done up in a bun and her eyes are also gray in color. Her skin is very pale and has an almost grayish hue to it. Her nails are long, black, and sharpened at the tip.
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Equipment: She wears a deep purple robe that has sleeves that extend far beyond her hands. Her hands are covered with fine gloves of black silk and she wears one ring on each, one having a purple stone set in it and the other a piece of onyx. Carrying an ornate cane of orellium, Grandma can use it to increase her magical channeling as well as assist in deflecting others' spells with it. The cane itself is black and covered in numerous ornate, but tiny runes. The cap on the cane is a purplish-colored gem. On her wrist is a silver bracelet with a ruby in it that Grandma uses for communication with others who own similar bracelets.
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Skills and Abilities: Skilled at knitting!
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Biography: While the details of Grandma's past are shrouded in mystery, since first meeting Naoki she has served essentially one role, that of advisor. While her titles have varied as Naoki moved up the social ladder of Isra, her continued support, and assistance she offered to Naoki have never wavered.
Even following the destruction of Isra, Grandma continues to follow and offer guidance to Lady Naoki as they attempt to rebuild from the wreckage.
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Allegiances: Naoki
Place of Residence: Port Argentium
Registered: Mar 16, 2021 19:51:53 GMT -5
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Post by Grandma on Sept 16, 2023 1:02:38 GMT -5
Smiling as Bah’sel approached her, Grandma was happy to oblige letting the creature sniff at her. If she came out this way again she’d have to bring an apple with her. Or perhaps a whole barrel of them. Either way, she suspected this creature would appreciate that sort of treat. Turning her attention away from Bah’sel, Grandma’s smile remained as she regarded Shyv’Ahna.
“Ah good, I was worried you might not be home,” Grandma said as she opened the gate. “Hopefully this isn’t an inconvenient time.” Closing the gate with a click Grandma approached Shyv’Ahna at a slow stroll. Her gray eyes quickly swept over the encampment, momentarily pausing on the block of wood Shyv’Ahna was whittling before settling back on Shyv’Ahna.
“I’ve been meaning to pay you a visit for ages now, Shyv’Ahna. Yet it always seems like something is eating up my free time.” Shaking her head in mock annoyance at this apparent plight, Grandma let out a weary sigh. “Last evening I was in Port Argentium and came across some of your handiwork… And it dawned on me my rocking chair simply isn’t up to snuff.”
On one hand, the idea Grandma had come out all this way simply for a rocking chair might be a strange thought given the myriad of rumors that surrounded the old crone. On the other, Grandma did look exactly like the type of person who would want a more comfortable rocking chair. After all, what better type of chair to sit and observe passersby from. While also silently judging them. Grandma definitely had that look about her as well.
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