The Twin Cities
Established
Roleplay posts: 18 
Registered: Sept 9, 2021 17:15:05 GMT -5
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Post by The Twin Cities on Sept 10, 2021 10:13:01 GMT -5
Twin Cities Census and Customs OfficeAny seafaring vessel passing through the Ildesian Strait is free to do so without interference. However, anyone wishing to enter the Twin Cities must seek permission at the Census and Customs Office. The offices are easily accessible, located in the northern settlement (Wulfgardt), and is heavily guarded. Individuals can speak to the receptionist to gain access to the city. Varan strongmen are directed by Vessian customs officials to ensure no contraband or stowaways are being brought into the city.
From the Census and Customs Office one can then dock their ships in the shipyard and explore the northern settlement, Wulfgardt. Access to the southern settlement, Neue Ritterheim, is restricted, and only accessible via ferry from Wulfgardt.
Note: Once accepted, characters no longer have to pass through the offices, except under special circumstances.
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Post by Huey and the Thralls on Dec 28, 2021 19:53:56 GMT -5
Through the strait of the Twin Cities sailed a grand carrack. Its sails were black, embroidered with a pale flower dripping with golden nectar. The hull was made of rich, red mahogany. All in all, it was a fine vessel, though it sailed slowly through the twin cities against the wind.
There was no crew on deck, and unless Valentine decided to show his face, they wouldn't see a soul. Some would find such a sight curious, though, in times like these, curious sights were a dime a dozen.
The Desmodus had urged Valentine to hide in the cabin an hour prior, having spotted civilization from such a distance. It wasn't a matter of vision, per se, but a matter of knowing. The thrall wouldn't ever be able to explain the details, and as it would seem the living boat had no mouth to do so. All the same, it could tell there were people ahead, and that Alvaro was not one of them. With any hope, they would go through silently, quickly, without any trouble.
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Twin Cities
Established
Roleplay posts: 26
Registered: Mar 23, 2021 20:31:28 GMT -5
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Post by Twin Cities on Dec 28, 2021 21:26:41 GMT -5
Through the strait of the Twin Cities sailed a grand carrack. Its sails were black, embroidered with a pale flower dripping with golden nectar. The hull was made of rich, red mahogany. All in all, it was a fine vessel, though it sailed slowly through the twin cities against the wind. There was no crew on deck, and unless Valentine decided to show his face, they wouldn't see a soul. Some would find such a sight curious, though, in times like these, curious sights were a dime a dozen. The Desmodus had urged Valentine to hide in the cabin an hour prior, having spotted civilization from such a distance. It wasn't a matter of vision, per se, but a matter of knowing. The thrall wouldn't ever be able to explain the details, and as it would seem the living boat had no mouth to do so. All the same, it could tell there were people ahead, and that Alvaro was not one of them. With any hope, they would go through silently, quickly, without any trouble. The waters between the settlements were all in all full of small vessels. Fishing boats to keep the settlements afloat, small junks and rafts to facilitate trade both domestically and - with the passage of time - abroad. Thus it was that dozens of sets of eyes turned themselves to the very strange vessel. Nobody was aboard, and while springalds from the coast were pointed at it the lack of apparent threat made the governance not waste its currently very finite resources investigating. Private hands on the other hand, would not be so conservative.
A small fishing boat some distance ahead of it had its lead nudge a comrade with his shoulder, and then motion with his chin.
"Oi, what do you think the meaning of that is then?"
"Dunno."
"Its a free boat you daft bugger." A rather big fellow, he caused the rest of the fishermen to fall from their standing positions as he grabbed a pair of oars and propelled the craft towards the larger one.
"'ere, the hell do you think you're doing? It's a fucking set up, there's probably a dozen men up there waiting to jump us."
"Quit being a pussy. You can swim to shore if you don't want a ship to ourselves."
Collectively the men shook their heads. "You're a madman Radek."
"'bout to be your Captain though." he said, laughing as a pair of meaty arms through a grand fishing hook up to for now use as one for boarding. With groans, the fellow fishermen followed their impromptu leader into the grasp of an unknown vessel.
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Valentine Donnadieu
Established
Roleplay posts: 12
Age: Appears somewhere around his 20's.
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Appearance: Valentine's wavy hair is shoulder length, with the back usually up in a small ponytail. His soft features often cause others to mistake him for a girl, but he has never taken offense to it. His eyes are a piercing red, beautifully complimented by his pale features and dusty pink hair. If the light plays just right, it can even appear white or blonde. He's always seen with red, dangling earrings, but his clothes change often. Expect him to be adorned in something ruffled, corseted, and/or fancy.
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Equipment: Coin purse with a few gold stashed inside, sacrificial knife, poison-tipped dagger strapped to his thigh, 3 vials filled with blood, and a paint supply kit.
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Skills and Abilities: Vampiric senses and speed: While not a blur of motion, Valentine finds that both his speed and senses are bordering on the inhuman. Unfortunately, his physical strength is laughable and he could easily be overpowered by an average person.
Necromancy: A magic he found himself proficient in after his turning. Raising the dead as ghouls or skeletons proves useful, but not when the isles make such a thing nearly impossible. Fortunately, Valentine has one ability that has somehow survived the isles. His "Vampiric Touch" as he likes to call it allows him to suck the life out of another if he grips them skin to skin. The process is painfully slow and requires several minutes to kill a target, but it doesn't take too-too long to weaken his opponent with it. With what he steals, he rejuvenates himself.
Blood Arts: His blood has been specially infused to be of great benefit to any and all vampires around him. There have been even times that he has granted those who take from him a great boon. One that entirely depends on the individual who took it from him.
Simple weapon proficiency: He knows how to wield a dagger and other small weapons, but would not do very well with a longsword. Although he's decent with a rapier but hasn't had the time to master it.
Artistic skills: Valentine is capable of making beautiful works of art with paints, charcoal, clay, etc. But his specialty is realistic portraits and religious renditions. He is also able to create his own paints, charcoal, etc if he finds the right materials.
Wine master: Makes wonderful wines, especially blood wines with his secret ingredient.
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Biography: Valentine is a man who has always shown great artistic talent. Such great talent in fact, that a deal was made between his poor parents and a well-known artist that would take him off their hands when he was only 10 years old. The artist fed him, housed him, and trained him in the arts, but in exchange he had to assist his teacher by making and creating all his paints/supplies for him. To further his own talent, he was allowed to copy his teacher's works on his own time. All was well for a few months, but his teacher quickly noticed that Valentine was not like any other pupil he had. For Valentine was entirely color blind.(Achromatopsia) His world of greys had the artist in a rage, assuming he'd gotten a bad deal since Valentine was "defective". After all, how was he to help him with his religious works for his commissions in the future if he could not see the exact color his teacher had used? But Valentine proved him wrong. He'd excelled, pushed himself hard enough that he lived and breathed art. It was no surprise that he surpassed his teacher by 16 and was given commissions of his own from the church. But he had an entirely different passion he wished to dedicate his skills to. Portraits. His own, others, anyone he deemed beautiful he desperately wished to paint, to sculpt. At 20 years of age, he finally found them. His muse. They were a beautiful man, but an odd one. Meeting in the dead of night for each session called to Valentine. Just painting his client went to painting his muse, to falling in love. A happily ever after...If only. That fantasy shattered when he discovered his muse was a creature of the night. A damned demon that the church had warned him of. A vampire. But Valentine "saw past all that" and saw "the real him". His love, his muse promised him many things. Such beautiful things that he was lulled into him. He fell from grace and was drawn into the life of permanent night. Now with his "muse" casting him aside as just another piece of his collection he finds himself deeply regretting ever meeting him...And now, all he can think about is escaping him.
Registered: Dec 2, 2021 19:36:55 GMT -5
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Post by Valentine Donnadieu on Dec 28, 2021 23:49:07 GMT -5
Valentine couldn't help his huff as he fiddled with his supplies in the cabin he'd been ushered into. While the ship couldn't talk, it appeared to know what it was doing so he had followed its lead. A pout appeared on his face at the growing boredom he was facing. He'd gotten his need to snoop around the cabin out of his system thirty minutes ago and while he thankfully still had his painter's kit, he had no canvas to paint on. He idly fussed with the drying kit that had previously been strapped to his belt as he wondered if he should snoop around the other parts of the ship too. Or just take a nap. A nap sounded nice actually. A nice, relaxing--
Valentine's slightly pointed ear twitched for a moment. Did he just hear...something metal snag on the ship? The vampire slowly stood up from his sat position and made his way to the door to the cabin. He hesitated for a moment, only to open the door justtt a crack so he could peek out. Keeping his voice low, he spoke to the ship itself, "By chance, did you just make that noi--"
The vampire squinted as he swore he heard some more voices, "Nevermind, most definitely not you..."
He reached back and pulled the cloth from his sash over his thigh just enough to cover the blade strapped there. He didn't exactly intend to fight, but if someone was going to say, board the ship and get very violent very quickly he'd want to defend himself without them being overly cautious of him. So with another whisper to the ship, he'd slink to hide behind the door, "I shall stay in here for now, if you need me to help you just...pull on my ankle with a rope or...whatever else you can do that with. Or if they come in here to hurt me, help me out too?"
Valentine nodded to himself at that, not exactly expecting a reply as he listened and waited to see what was about to happen.
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Post by Huey and the Thralls on Dec 31, 2021 18:31:24 GMT -5
Valentine would find a good amount of things in the cabin, which had stairs that went further down to a door that was chained off. On the shelves that were available to him, he would find typical things like rope, twine, cloth, needles, stripped pieces of planks fastened into rough fishing rods, and...
A sword.
Both the scabbard and the blade were beautifully crafted. The sheath was black and inlaid with silver, patterned in the form of a small waterbird. The hilt was surrounded by spirals of silver spawned from the guard, and the blade was thin and pointed. A rapier.
If he investigated it further, he would either find the tip of the blade dripping with a clear liquid or a little hatch in the hilt.
Outside, the vessel refused to stop moving, but nothing was stopping the fishermen from boarding, either. Though Desmodus could control the ropes on the rigging, there was no reason to do so yet. If they could not stop the ship, there was no reason to try and fling them from the deck. Not... yet.
On the deck, faintly outlined, was a hatch. It wasn't hard to find, but it was also not obvious unless they were looking for it.
The Desmodus groaned, the sound familiar to Valentine: between the creak of wood and a scream.
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Twin Cities
Established
Roleplay posts: 26
Registered: Mar 23, 2021 20:31:28 GMT -5
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Post by Twin Cities on Jan 4, 2022 11:32:45 GMT -5
As one by one the men ascended the (presumable) railing of the ship, they took stock of its surroundings. It was certainly not like any they had seen before. Truth be told, only about half the crew had a nautical life prior to the second cataclysm; for most, fishing became their vocation out of simple necessity. But despite an almost... eerie appearance, the vessel was certainly worthy. Before the cataclysm it would have been worth a pretty penny, but now such a fine boat would be worth her weight in gold. They'd be the envy of all of these damned islands.
The attention of about half the group very quickly split off however from the ideation of their future as blue-water sailors to a hatch that several men discovered. "Hey, trapdoor here." one announced, glistening eyes of the men nearest him pondering imaginary treasures that were on the boat. "Come on, let's see!" One said, doing his best to open it and crossing the threshhold if successful.
The other half of the men however, were still focused on making the ship their's. They would look for the steer and a captain's cabin in an effort to turn the ship around and bring it to port.
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Valentine Donnadieu
Established
Roleplay posts: 12
Age: Appears somewhere around his 20's.
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Appearance: Valentine's wavy hair is shoulder length, with the back usually up in a small ponytail. His soft features often cause others to mistake him for a girl, but he has never taken offense to it. His eyes are a piercing red, beautifully complimented by his pale features and dusty pink hair. If the light plays just right, it can even appear white or blonde. He's always seen with red, dangling earrings, but his clothes change often. Expect him to be adorned in something ruffled, corseted, and/or fancy.
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Equipment: Coin purse with a few gold stashed inside, sacrificial knife, poison-tipped dagger strapped to his thigh, 3 vials filled with blood, and a paint supply kit.
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Skills and Abilities: Vampiric senses and speed: While not a blur of motion, Valentine finds that both his speed and senses are bordering on the inhuman. Unfortunately, his physical strength is laughable and he could easily be overpowered by an average person.
Necromancy: A magic he found himself proficient in after his turning. Raising the dead as ghouls or skeletons proves useful, but not when the isles make such a thing nearly impossible. Fortunately, Valentine has one ability that has somehow survived the isles. His "Vampiric Touch" as he likes to call it allows him to suck the life out of another if he grips them skin to skin. The process is painfully slow and requires several minutes to kill a target, but it doesn't take too-too long to weaken his opponent with it. With what he steals, he rejuvenates himself.
Blood Arts: His blood has been specially infused to be of great benefit to any and all vampires around him. There have been even times that he has granted those who take from him a great boon. One that entirely depends on the individual who took it from him.
Simple weapon proficiency: He knows how to wield a dagger and other small weapons, but would not do very well with a longsword. Although he's decent with a rapier but hasn't had the time to master it.
Artistic skills: Valentine is capable of making beautiful works of art with paints, charcoal, clay, etc. But his specialty is realistic portraits and religious renditions. He is also able to create his own paints, charcoal, etc if he finds the right materials.
Wine master: Makes wonderful wines, especially blood wines with his secret ingredient.
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Biography: Valentine is a man who has always shown great artistic talent. Such great talent in fact, that a deal was made between his poor parents and a well-known artist that would take him off their hands when he was only 10 years old. The artist fed him, housed him, and trained him in the arts, but in exchange he had to assist his teacher by making and creating all his paints/supplies for him. To further his own talent, he was allowed to copy his teacher's works on his own time. All was well for a few months, but his teacher quickly noticed that Valentine was not like any other pupil he had. For Valentine was entirely color blind.(Achromatopsia) His world of greys had the artist in a rage, assuming he'd gotten a bad deal since Valentine was "defective". After all, how was he to help him with his religious works for his commissions in the future if he could not see the exact color his teacher had used? But Valentine proved him wrong. He'd excelled, pushed himself hard enough that he lived and breathed art. It was no surprise that he surpassed his teacher by 16 and was given commissions of his own from the church. But he had an entirely different passion he wished to dedicate his skills to. Portraits. His own, others, anyone he deemed beautiful he desperately wished to paint, to sculpt. At 20 years of age, he finally found them. His muse. They were a beautiful man, but an odd one. Meeting in the dead of night for each session called to Valentine. Just painting his client went to painting his muse, to falling in love. A happily ever after...If only. That fantasy shattered when he discovered his muse was a creature of the night. A damned demon that the church had warned him of. A vampire. But Valentine "saw past all that" and saw "the real him". His love, his muse promised him many things. Such beautiful things that he was lulled into him. He fell from grace and was drawn into the life of permanent night. Now with his "muse" casting him aside as just another piece of his collection he finds himself deeply regretting ever meeting him...And now, all he can think about is escaping him.
Registered: Dec 2, 2021 19:36:55 GMT -5
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Post by Valentine Donnadieu on Jan 10, 2022 19:58:12 GMT -5
Valentine bit his lip in worry at the sound of approaching footsteps to the captain's cabin. His red eyes flicked back to the excessively pretty rapier he'd found earlier. He wasn't...the best with swords, but a rapier was different. Just a...longer and fancier dagger really. At least that's what he'd convinced himself of when he practiced it in secret over the decades. Still, not the best with it.
The vampire quietly made his way over to it, inspecting it once more before removing the scabbard and placing that back where he'd found it. "Okay...Okay, waterbird let us...Discover what the hell you do with your strange little liquid and hatch. Just uhm...if you're sentient like the ship is please don't hate me for wielding you in an incorrect form. Desperate times call for desperate measures after all!"
He took another breath, slicking his hair back and adjusting his ruffled shirt to look at least SOMEWHAT presentable as he turned back to the doors. "Alright...alright, alright. Let's...protect you shall we?" He motioned to the ship itself before heading to the door he had opened just a smidge earlier.
With a deep breath and that fancy rapier by his side, he confidently opened the door. Only to come face to face with some of the men who had been heading to the captain's cabin. "Oh! Hello gentlemen."
He cleared his throat and gave a less than convincing attempt at a confident smile, "I don't suppose there's any way for you to leave quietly before both the ship and I have to become violent with you, is there?"
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Post by Huey and the Thralls on Jan 11, 2022 18:37:15 GMT -5
To those who attempted to take hold of the ship's wheel, they found themselves battling it. With enough force, it was certainly movable, but there was something on the other side trying to pull it out of their grip!
Those on the deck would find the hatch a little challenging to open, as the grooves were fine and their fingers calloused and rough, but with even the slightest catch, they flung it open. There was an extremely dark room within the hatch, too dark to see without further inspection. Whether or not anyone would venture forth was the real question, as no sooner did they peer within did an awful stench rise up to greet them. It was worse than soured milk and bad eggs mixed with something buried and left to ferment. A hundred-year rot encircled them with the force of an exploded whale's corpse; unrelenting and deeply offensive. Even Valentine was subject to such torture from the captain's quarters.
The Desmodus stood alongside Valentine, in a sense. There was a rope that was snaking its way toward the lad as he looked through things, watching in a way that was hopefully less intimidating than being an eerie, invisible presence. When he queried about getting everything started, the tip of the rope nodded with vigor.
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Twin Cities
Established
Roleplay posts: 26
Registered: Mar 23, 2021 20:31:28 GMT -5
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Post by Twin Cities on Jan 18, 2022 1:39:57 GMT -5
As a man found a steer, he started to attempt to turn. But, despite the strain of fairly impressive muscles it seemed that his progress was a yield of but one or two degrees of budge on the wheel. This rather predictably lead to laughter from the duo of comrades that stood beside him.
"You need a little help with that?" asked one, whilst another self-proclaimed comedian queried: "Ha, any day now, take your pleasure, we can sail to port any time in the year!" Though as a few seconds passed, the man decided to amend his humour with another comment. "Well, perhaps not, we want to get back before the water freezes!" and with that, shoved his pal aside to instead grasp the wheel with his own two hands. Rather embarrassingly and to the accompaniment of smug sniggering, he found as little success in trying to adjus tthe course of the vessel. Fancying himself smarter than the other two gentlemen, the third man instead of trying to move it himself tried to assist the other in pushing down to hopefully have the combined efforts be sufficient to properly turn the Desmodus back to shore.
The party that opened the catch would fan out as soon as the stench hit. While men of greater fortitudes would stand their ground, one vomitted, and yet another went as far as jumping overboard out of pure disgust. One man however, one who had been a dunnykin diver before the second cataclysm was accustomed to such smells and would lie down to peer into the depths of the vessel hoping that the smell of rot would reveal dead guardians of treasures untold.
But most perplexed would be the three men that had sought to go to a captain's cabin, only to see a door open. They did not see what was expected. Some little twat of a man that had less meat on his bones than a plump chicken that was dressed all foppish. "The fuck are you?" one of the men said, and upon noting the rapier drew a great big fishing hook meaningfully. "The fuck's the smell in there? What is this ship?"
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Valentine Donnadieu
Established
Roleplay posts: 12
Age: Appears somewhere around his 20's.
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Appearance: Valentine's wavy hair is shoulder length, with the back usually up in a small ponytail. His soft features often cause others to mistake him for a girl, but he has never taken offense to it. His eyes are a piercing red, beautifully complimented by his pale features and dusty pink hair. If the light plays just right, it can even appear white or blonde. He's always seen with red, dangling earrings, but his clothes change often. Expect him to be adorned in something ruffled, corseted, and/or fancy.
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Equipment: Coin purse with a few gold stashed inside, sacrificial knife, poison-tipped dagger strapped to his thigh, 3 vials filled with blood, and a paint supply kit.
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Skills and Abilities: Vampiric senses and speed: While not a blur of motion, Valentine finds that both his speed and senses are bordering on the inhuman. Unfortunately, his physical strength is laughable and he could easily be overpowered by an average person.
Necromancy: A magic he found himself proficient in after his turning. Raising the dead as ghouls or skeletons proves useful, but not when the isles make such a thing nearly impossible. Fortunately, Valentine has one ability that has somehow survived the isles. His "Vampiric Touch" as he likes to call it allows him to suck the life out of another if he grips them skin to skin. The process is painfully slow and requires several minutes to kill a target, but it doesn't take too-too long to weaken his opponent with it. With what he steals, he rejuvenates himself.
Blood Arts: His blood has been specially infused to be of great benefit to any and all vampires around him. There have been even times that he has granted those who take from him a great boon. One that entirely depends on the individual who took it from him.
Simple weapon proficiency: He knows how to wield a dagger and other small weapons, but would not do very well with a longsword. Although he's decent with a rapier but hasn't had the time to master it.
Artistic skills: Valentine is capable of making beautiful works of art with paints, charcoal, clay, etc. But his specialty is realistic portraits and religious renditions. He is also able to create his own paints, charcoal, etc if he finds the right materials.
Wine master: Makes wonderful wines, especially blood wines with his secret ingredient.
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Biography: Valentine is a man who has always shown great artistic talent. Such great talent in fact, that a deal was made between his poor parents and a well-known artist that would take him off their hands when he was only 10 years old. The artist fed him, housed him, and trained him in the arts, but in exchange he had to assist his teacher by making and creating all his paints/supplies for him. To further his own talent, he was allowed to copy his teacher's works on his own time. All was well for a few months, but his teacher quickly noticed that Valentine was not like any other pupil he had. For Valentine was entirely color blind.(Achromatopsia) His world of greys had the artist in a rage, assuming he'd gotten a bad deal since Valentine was "defective". After all, how was he to help him with his religious works for his commissions in the future if he could not see the exact color his teacher had used? But Valentine proved him wrong. He'd excelled, pushed himself hard enough that he lived and breathed art. It was no surprise that he surpassed his teacher by 16 and was given commissions of his own from the church. But he had an entirely different passion he wished to dedicate his skills to. Portraits. His own, others, anyone he deemed beautiful he desperately wished to paint, to sculpt. At 20 years of age, he finally found them. His muse. They were a beautiful man, but an odd one. Meeting in the dead of night for each session called to Valentine. Just painting his client went to painting his muse, to falling in love. A happily ever after...If only. That fantasy shattered when he discovered his muse was a creature of the night. A damned demon that the church had warned him of. A vampire. But Valentine "saw past all that" and saw "the real him". His love, his muse promised him many things. Such beautiful things that he was lulled into him. He fell from grace and was drawn into the life of permanent night. Now with his "muse" casting him aside as just another piece of his collection he finds himself deeply regretting ever meeting him...And now, all he can think about is escaping him.
Registered: Dec 2, 2021 19:36:55 GMT -5
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Post by Valentine Donnadieu on Feb 5, 2022 4:43:31 GMT -5
Valentine drew up his free hand to pinch his nose as the stench hit his poor heightened senses. His eyes watered with red liquid lining his lower lids, his lips twisting with disgust. If he hadn't been so used to similarly horrid smells in his life, he may have just spent the next couple of minutes dry heaving. Whatever that stench was, he was glad he wasn't going to be the one subject to its source.
Steeling himself, he let go of his nose and looked to the three men in front of him. His gaze finding the one holding up the fishing hook all menacingly, "That stench?... That would be none other than the guardian of this ship."
A slow, fanged smile split across Valentine's face as he devised a plan to attempt to lie his way out of this. "I'm a necromancer friend. I'd think anyone could smell necromantic decaying flesh and know to run. Why do you think this ship is so deserted? The ship itself is alive and very much so doesn't like you being here."
He lifted his rapier lazily, eyes narrowing at the man in front of him with a sort of false bravado, "Need I animate your skeleton and have it claw its way out of you, or will you simply leave this ship without ever needing to know such horrors? Your choice, but make the decision quickly. I do not think your friends back there have very long until my pet decides to rip them apart for interrupting its rest."
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Post by Huey and the Thralls on Feb 8, 2022 20:43:41 GMT -5
If a ship could laugh, it just might have. Sadly, they could not.
Among the things it could do was multitask. Though it delayed the fishermen at the wheel for some time, it did not have the strength to fight against their group attempt to keep the wheel weighed down in one direction, and slowly, the ship began to turn.
Below deck, there was a wet squishing sound accompanied by a high squeak. Rats, perhaps? Rats walking around spoiled and moist grains or among the dead of their own kind. Would certainly explain the smell. Except… that’s now what the fisherman would see. Below, there was something shiny and black, like tar.
And it was moving.
Then, it was rising.
Faster and faster, like a giant waking from a slumber, the goop stretched up and unfurled toward the sailor, reaching out a thin and serrated hand towards his face, ready to snatch it in its claws.
Slivers of rope spiraled silently down the foremast, hoping that Valentine’s distraction was enough to distract the sailors while it dropped down to the ground and slithered down to their feet, playing a sly game of stop and go. One of them would aim to position behind the sailor who looked down below deck, ready to tip him inside.
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Esau Fortney The Guardian
Established
Roleplay posts: 13
Age: 38
Appearance: §
He is a large muscular man with a large beard and scarred skin. Going from his neck and ending at his chest is a scar that looks like scrape marks.
He wears holy looking gold and silver colored armor that glows faintly when he uses magic. He doesn't wear a helmet as his old one was stolen, and he did not want to replace it.
He is usually seen carrying around an executioner sword that is taller than he is and a tower shield that can block his entire frame.
He has a few trinkets on him, like a necklace with a pendant with a symbol and an ear ring.
Equipment: §
His armor protects him from most types of energy based abilities. Trying to hurt him through it is very difficult because of it's durability.
His sword and shield are magical as well. The shield can make a white forcefield that covers an even bigger area by pouring mana into it.
The sword can make transform into a hammer as well, without changing weight.
Skills and Abilities: §
This man is pure bulky wall, slow but powerful. He has very little offensive magic, but his defenses are almost impenetrable. Thanks to the magic resistance and thickness of his armor and his physical frame he is a difficult man to take down.
He uses healing magic that allows him to slowly regenerate himself and the energy of other people. His magic barriers allow him to trap people and hold off attacks temporarily.
His fighting style involves wearing out his enemy. He allows them to waste magic and energy then attacks with heavy damage. He also tried to trap or contain any threat around him. He is skilled with his sword at blocking and hacking.
He doesn't fight alone usually either. He has a small army of twenty knights with healing powers and bsrrier just like him. They are not as strong as him, but they make up for it with their formations. They usually trap and contain any threat by surrounding or pushing them back.
He also has an ability called spirit chains. He is able to grab people's souls with long chains and trap them. This messes with their magic, making attacks erratic and weaker. Does not work on people that don't have soul.
His weakness however is the fact that he is slow. He has trouble attacking fast and tricky enemies. Alone he is very easy to wear down and his healing only works for so long.
§
Biography: He was a knight to the kingdom of Ostara, a once thriving place that fell to ruin after a large famine involving the sun dimming out. He did not understand most of why it happened, and watched behind the scenes as his masters worked on restoring the world.
One day he was sent as the guardian for a young man called Eskil who he knew was made to be a sacrifice to a god. He guarded him for a few years till and formed a small bond with him. He felt a bit sad when the day of his death would come
However things didn't go as planned. The vessel found out about why it was created. At first no one knew that he was aware. But suddenly people started disappearing, traps where laid out over night and innocents where killed in brutal ways.
He watched in horror as his close friends ,which had no part in this ,where methodically killed. The soulless vessel bided it's time to learn weaknesses and strategies, then killed them in quick and brutal ways. Ever since he held a grudge for the thing that he barely considers a human.
He set sail to kill the vessel for it's crimes by order of the council, and was instead trapped in the isles.
Registered: Apr 27, 2023 9:01:24 GMT -5
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Post by Esau Fortney The Guardian on May 23, 2023 9:06:19 GMT -5
A relatively normal looking caravel passed by, innocuous to most everyone who saw it. It's oak hull and modest size made it pretty normal looking all things considered. The most noteworthy thing about the ship was the insignia on the sails, a circle with black circle on the inside like a bullseye.
The sailors in the ship saw the shipyard and immediately made their way to the docs. They passed by some other ship, noting that they all looked like trading ships.
"Captain Esau, we've reached a more secure area. I'm sorry, but we couldn't stay there the storm would have had us stranded without a single drop of food." The gruff looking sailor said to a large man, that towered over him. The man wore heavy looking armor, despite being in a ship. He didn't
feet comfortable without it.
Esau shook his head." We came here to avenge my fallen comrades, not to kill more of them. You made the right decision Captain Pyre. Let's hope this place is as friendly as it looks." He said.
"Everyone ready our ship, let's make s good impression." He yelled at he crew, who nodded and got to work readying the ship.
They entered the docks and died down their ship. Their waited to see if anyone would come to check on them.
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Ralf Valgard
Committed
The White Wolf
Roleplay posts: 67
Equipment: Ancestral Sword: An ancient sword passed down in the Valgard family for generations. It is made of a dark, unknown metal. Ralf could potentially channel magical powers through the blade, but he has yet to discover the possibility.
Steel Longsword: Ralf's preferred weapon of choice.
Hirhanic Shield: Ralf's special shield, a gift from his friend Hirhan. It can absorb magical attacks and kinetic energy, to be redirected at his will.
Mariah's Dagger: A magical dagger than can sap magical power from opponent's. Taken from the corpse of Mariah.
Ki'Gar: A traditional garment worn by the Varan. Ralf wears his like a scarf, but other Varan may wear them as capes, sashes, head-dresses, and more. Ralf's is blue, with white trimming, and white wolf's head in the center. The name VALGARD is spelled beneath it. Ki'Gars are knitted from Buunvar hide, making them resistant to damage as well as fireproof.
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Skills and Abilities: Warrior: Ralf is a strong and capable warrior, preferring to use a sword-and-shield combination in combat. Ralf's fighting style focuses on speed, agility, and opportune striking. He wields his sword and shield with impressive dexterity, and complements his style with the powers of his Hirhanic Shield.
Cure of the White Wolf: As per his bloodline, Ralf is cursed with a form of lycanthropy. He transforms into a werewolf, whose hide is nigh-invulnerable and resistant to damage. His speed, strength, and reflexes are greatly increased. Ralf has learned to repress his instincts, but he will unleash the creature if necessary.
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Biography: Ralf is the son of Volrun Valgard, the original heir to the throne of Valland. Volrun was killed in battle at Gripclaw Pass, but his lover Aesa Jojora returned to Asgeir pregnant. Ralf was born and his mother would rule as regent until he came of age.
Ralf, however, opted to travel the world in search of adventure, fame, and wealth. He also wanted to prove his worth, as his rivals criticized his bastard birth.
Ralf is well-traveled, and a highly experienced combatant, explorer, and survivalist. His friend Hirhan created the Hirhanic Shield for him. He also looted a magical dagger from the corpse of Mariah.
Ralf has opted to build a bustling trade hub for his people and allies on the Mistbourne Isles called the Twin Cities, straddling the Ildesian Strait.
Allegiances: Varan
Place of Residence: Twin Cities
Registered: Mar 21, 2021 21:05:09 GMT -5
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Post by Ralf Valgard on May 23, 2023 9:22:33 GMT -5
The Census and Customs office was still being built, although a temporary structure which would late serve as a hallway had been erected. A flagpole was also nearby and at its height fluttered a flag of two bars: blue on top and white on bottom. A simple combination with soft colors. There were stockpiles of cut boards, stones, and tools, as well as nails, ropes, and other building materials. Varan laborers moved about here and there to lay down the foundations of the offices that would take in the Twins' future visitors.
At present Ralf was supervising the area and it was he who would welcome the caravel. The Varan did not recognize the emblem upon the sail, but they did not seem to be a threat. His men waved the ship towards the docks and helped those aboard tie the vessel to the pier.
"Well met," Ralf greeted them with a grin. "I am Ralf Valgard, consul of this settlement, the Twins." He would wait for the new arrivals to introduce themselves and get the formalities out of the way. He spied the armored individual, whose appearance reminded him of a Knight-Brother or some other Vessian warrior, and he was eager to learn about these people.
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Esau Fortney The Guardian
Established
Roleplay posts: 13
Age: 38
Appearance: §
He is a large muscular man with a large beard and scarred skin. Going from his neck and ending at his chest is a scar that looks like scrape marks.
He wears holy looking gold and silver colored armor that glows faintly when he uses magic. He doesn't wear a helmet as his old one was stolen, and he did not want to replace it.
He is usually seen carrying around an executioner sword that is taller than he is and a tower shield that can block his entire frame.
He has a few trinkets on him, like a necklace with a pendant with a symbol and an ear ring.
Equipment: §
His armor protects him from most types of energy based abilities. Trying to hurt him through it is very difficult because of it's durability.
His sword and shield are magical as well. The shield can make a white forcefield that covers an even bigger area by pouring mana into it.
The sword can make transform into a hammer as well, without changing weight.
Skills and Abilities: §
This man is pure bulky wall, slow but powerful. He has very little offensive magic, but his defenses are almost impenetrable. Thanks to the magic resistance and thickness of his armor and his physical frame he is a difficult man to take down.
He uses healing magic that allows him to slowly regenerate himself and the energy of other people. His magic barriers allow him to trap people and hold off attacks temporarily.
His fighting style involves wearing out his enemy. He allows them to waste magic and energy then attacks with heavy damage. He also tried to trap or contain any threat around him. He is skilled with his sword at blocking and hacking.
He doesn't fight alone usually either. He has a small army of twenty knights with healing powers and bsrrier just like him. They are not as strong as him, but they make up for it with their formations. They usually trap and contain any threat by surrounding or pushing them back.
He also has an ability called spirit chains. He is able to grab people's souls with long chains and trap them. This messes with their magic, making attacks erratic and weaker. Does not work on people that don't have soul.
His weakness however is the fact that he is slow. He has trouble attacking fast and tricky enemies. Alone he is very easy to wear down and his healing only works for so long.
§
Biography: He was a knight to the kingdom of Ostara, a once thriving place that fell to ruin after a large famine involving the sun dimming out. He did not understand most of why it happened, and watched behind the scenes as his masters worked on restoring the world.
One day he was sent as the guardian for a young man called Eskil who he knew was made to be a sacrifice to a god. He guarded him for a few years till and formed a small bond with him. He felt a bit sad when the day of his death would come
However things didn't go as planned. The vessel found out about why it was created. At first no one knew that he was aware. But suddenly people started disappearing, traps where laid out over night and innocents where killed in brutal ways.
He watched in horror as his close friends ,which had no part in this ,where methodically killed. The soulless vessel bided it's time to learn weaknesses and strategies, then killed them in quick and brutal ways. Ever since he held a grudge for the thing that he barely considers a human.
He set sail to kill the vessel for it's crimes by order of the council, and was instead trapped in the isles.
Registered: Apr 27, 2023 9:01:24 GMT -5
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Post by Esau Fortney The Guardian on May 23, 2023 9:31:17 GMT -5
The gruff but fittingly dressed sailor next to him, Captain Pyre, nudged him." Should we tell them about our problem. We might want to warn them." He whispered.
"Later, we should find some place to settle before we can even begin our search. I will not be reckless again."
He composed himself and bowed to Ralf."I am Captain Esau Fortney, I hail from a far away . . . Place." Esau sai, unsure of where exactly he was." We where caught in a storm, and hoped to be able to stay for a while once we understand our situation. We hope it's not too much trouble."
"Captain Pyre here, we just want to make sure our boys are alive." He said simply, lighting a match for his pipe." We've been traveling for a few days, and supplies might run short for us in a few more."
We
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Ralf Valgard
Committed
The White Wolf
Roleplay posts: 67
Equipment: Ancestral Sword: An ancient sword passed down in the Valgard family for generations. It is made of a dark, unknown metal. Ralf could potentially channel magical powers through the blade, but he has yet to discover the possibility.
Steel Longsword: Ralf's preferred weapon of choice.
Hirhanic Shield: Ralf's special shield, a gift from his friend Hirhan. It can absorb magical attacks and kinetic energy, to be redirected at his will.
Mariah's Dagger: A magical dagger than can sap magical power from opponent's. Taken from the corpse of Mariah.
Ki'Gar: A traditional garment worn by the Varan. Ralf wears his like a scarf, but other Varan may wear them as capes, sashes, head-dresses, and more. Ralf's is blue, with white trimming, and white wolf's head in the center. The name VALGARD is spelled beneath it. Ki'Gars are knitted from Buunvar hide, making them resistant to damage as well as fireproof.
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Skills and Abilities: Warrior: Ralf is a strong and capable warrior, preferring to use a sword-and-shield combination in combat. Ralf's fighting style focuses on speed, agility, and opportune striking. He wields his sword and shield with impressive dexterity, and complements his style with the powers of his Hirhanic Shield.
Cure of the White Wolf: As per his bloodline, Ralf is cursed with a form of lycanthropy. He transforms into a werewolf, whose hide is nigh-invulnerable and resistant to damage. His speed, strength, and reflexes are greatly increased. Ralf has learned to repress his instincts, but he will unleash the creature if necessary.
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Biography: Ralf is the son of Volrun Valgard, the original heir to the throne of Valland. Volrun was killed in battle at Gripclaw Pass, but his lover Aesa Jojora returned to Asgeir pregnant. Ralf was born and his mother would rule as regent until he came of age.
Ralf, however, opted to travel the world in search of adventure, fame, and wealth. He also wanted to prove his worth, as his rivals criticized his bastard birth.
Ralf is well-traveled, and a highly experienced combatant, explorer, and survivalist. His friend Hirhan created the Hirhanic Shield for him. He also looted a magical dagger from the corpse of Mariah.
Ralf has opted to build a bustling trade hub for his people and allies on the Mistbourne Isles called the Twin Cities, straddling the Ildesian Strait.
Allegiances: Varan
Place of Residence: Twin Cities
Registered: Mar 21, 2021 21:05:09 GMT -5
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Post by Ralf Valgard on May 23, 2023 9:49:19 GMT -5
Ralf nodded, "aye, all you survey here hail from a far away place." The Varan shrugged his broad shoulders, "we've not met a soul native to these lands, and I am convinced we are all new arrivals who arrived in unexplainable circumstances." Ralf listened as Esau and Pyre both expressed their desire to rest and recuperate from the storm. He would, of course, offer them hospitality; indeed, he hoped all would come to know the Twins as a place of hospitality and toleration.
"You're more than welcome to stay," he answered them. "Of course," he continued, "our settlement is small, and our supplies are little. I have men gathering wood and stone in the wilderness to construct homes and storehouses, and others foraging and hunting for food. A few among us are planning the layout of the settlement and managing other affairs. In other words, I may not have accommodations to your liking... but you are free to set up a temporary encampment alongside my people."
Around that time a slender fellow walked up beside Ralf; a wide brim hat hid the upper features of his face. He was dressed in boots, leather pants, a dark long-sleeve shirt, and a worn vest. He wielded a curved sword, a couple of crossbows, and a series of daggers, along with other tools of his trade. A Witch-Hunter of the Vessian Empire. "But not for free," he cut in, sharply.
Ralf turned his head, seemingly unaware the man had approached. "Ah, Johann," Ralf greeted the man. "Meet our new friends, Esau and Pyre."
"I heard them," he responded coldly. "Hmph," he remarked, before turning to leave.
"That would be Johann, resident witch-hunter," Ralf explained. He sighed, "can't always agree with his tone, or his methods... but sometimes you need a cold, calculating, and fierce man to get certain things done." He shrugged, "but he is right. I cannot - will not - ask you for anything. But as our settlement is still in its infancy, I lack the proper supplies to give you. However, if you were to help us gather food and other materials, or help us build, then I would be happy to resupply you at your departure."
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