The Mist
New
Roleplay posts: 8
Registered: Mar 20, 2021 16:16:21 GMT -5
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Post by The Mist on Mar 20, 2021 17:51:47 GMT -5
The ForestJust south of the mountains lies a dense deciduous forest, rich with trees and game. Its proximity to the river makes it a prime source of lumber.
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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 30, 2021 21:09:50 GMT -5
The forest had a certain serenity to it at this time of day. It was late morning by the time the small hunting group had set into the forest, and the dew had all but evaporated, leaving the forest in a fresh, life-filled air. It hadn’t been tainted by people yet, which was largely a good thing but it also meant there were no paths set down by travellers yet. Shyv’Ahna, the grumpy Av’rae pathfinder, had to take extra care to note landmarks for her own navigation, even if they had stuck to the river.
It only took them about twenty minutes of walking to finally find a large enough clearing that seemed to satisfy the Av’, as she tugged Bahsel, her pack beast, to the right, pulling them away from the river, then to a halt at the edge of the clearing. The gras below their feet was fresh, green, and dotted with flowers, and unlike the overgrowth around the trees they had passed on the way in, it was short. It would be shorter once Bahsel had settled in.
“Good enough…” Ahna murmured as she rubbed her purple, tattooed chin. “Far enough that nobody will bother me. Close enough that I am still contactable.” She looked behind her to the river and nodded. “Ample water. Sturdy trees. Yes, this will do.”
With one graceful motion she hopped down from the Vardo’s driver seat and rubber her hands together briefly, formulating ideas in her horned head. “I will set up my home here,” she announced to the group, clapping her hands once. “It is a good spot for my camp. “Temporarily perfect. Make note of the surroundings and the river, so you may find me if you need me after our hunt today.” No invitation for them to set up shop though. Ahna had considered it, and she would tolerate having neighbours as it was likely temporary, but she wasn’t about to float the idea.
She takes a moment to uncouple Bahsel from the Vardo and remove his barding, letting him flex his quills outwards once more with a long, satisfied groan. He immediately stepped towards the center of the clearing and fell on his side, rubbing his large, leathery body against the grass in a moment of comfort. Ahna couldn’t help but lightly chuckle to herself. “Enjoy your rest, old friend.”
“So,” she announces, walking towards the back of the Vardo, then produces a key attached to her necklace, tucked into the folds of her shawl. She unlocks the back and steps up and inside, tutting to herself. “Do you have water? Supplies?” she asks as she begins rummaging around.
The inside of the Vardo was just as brightly coloured as the inside. There’s a nice looking wooden chair by the door, and a counter that ran along the front half of the caravan underneath the window, which now had several boxes and crates sitting atop it. Opposite it was a large shelving unit, the bottom and top shelves made up of cabinets while the middle were regular shelves, each one covered in a rope net to keep the contents in place during travel. The Vardo was covered in all sorts of things, mostly haphazardly placed and tied down for the journey, but at a glance it seemed Ahna had everything she needed for survival, including a sharp wood axe, a pickaxe, all sorts of pots, pans, and even a large cauldron, just to name a few. Who knew what was in the crates and storage boxes?
Finally, at the very back of the Vardo, was a good sized bed, complete with a mattress, duvet, and pillows, each one covered in a sheet with Av’rae designs stitched into them. The only one sleeping like a queen in this settlement would be Ahna, it seemed.
She quickly found what she was looking for and pulled a wide, stout box from the netting above them, and opened it to reveal an intricate, very well designed crossbow and a quiver of bolts. The crossbow itself was obviously dwarven made from the level of craftsmanship, the runes, and the metal quality used in its firing mechanism.
“If you do not have water, then we will delay,” she says as she steps to the back of the Vardo, subconsciously blocking anyone from looking inside now that she’s found what she was looking for. It was her home after all. She pulled the cauldron from under her bench and sat it at the back of the caravan. “I would not trust the water from the river for drinking just yet. We must boil some, skim off whatever rises, and cool it before we fill our… what do you carry? Waterskins? A canteen?” she asks, unsure if the group even had anything to carry water in. “We will fill my water barrel and put it in the river to cool, then we can set off.”
She puts her hands on her hips, the rings and bracelets glinting in the sun’s light that streamed through the trees. “But if you think you have enough water, then we can set off. I have enough for one, perhaps two trips.”
“As for traps?” she asks, then gestures to the forest. “I do not know what kind of traps you people make, but the forest is abundant for resources, and I have a few pieces I may part with for the right price.”
She hops down and sits on the end of her Vardo, right in the doorway, crossbow on her lap. There’s a smile on her face, one that many didn’t get to see, one of satisfaction and a hint of happiness. “It is already starting to feel like home, hm?”
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Roxanne Fletcher
Committed
Roleplay posts: 76
Registered: Mar 16, 2021 22:33:09 GMT -5
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Post by Roxanne Fletcher on Mar 30, 2021 22:41:01 GMT -5
The walk through the forest was thankfully devoid of any significant conversation, allowing Roxanne to clear her mind and pretend that all was right with the world. The cool forest air was refreshing, and she relished the opportunity to stretch her legs after being cooped up on a boat for so long. The going was fairly easy, but Roxanne still found herself glad for the chance to stop and take a break once they'd reached the clearing. Had she really gotten so out of shape after spending so long on the ship? The cramped quarters and poor quality (not to mention low quantity) of food had clearly taken a more serious toll on her body than she'd thought. Sighing, she uncorked her waterskin and took a sip. The water still came from the casks aboard the ship and tasted vaguely of metal and old wood. She'd be glad to get some fresh water out here after so long, water that didn't require concentrated lemon juice and dashes of rum to make it drinkable. Still, it was probably a better idea to save the water-boiling for nightfall, when they'd have a fire going anyways.
"I've got enough food for a couple of days," said Roxanne, patting her bag. "More if we can find something to eat out here soon. How about the rest of you? I don't know about you, but I'd rather get moving and hunting as quick as we can. The sooner we catch something the better, right? The camp's relying on us."
In truth, Roxanne cared more for her own stomach than the camp. Her supplies consisted largely of salted fish and hardtack, and she wasn't exactly enthusiastic about yet another hard, salty meal. She'd been eating the stuff for weeks now, and had taken to soaking the hardtack in warm water after watching a fellow passenger crack his tooth trying to bite into one of the rock-like biscuits. The ship's surgeon had extracted the tooth with glee, apparently singing about fairies and sugar-plums all the while. Shuddering, Roxanne thanked the heavens that she'd never had to visit the disturbing masked man.
"Traps aren't too hard to make," she said. "But we'll not catch anything bigger than rabbits or foxes in snares. We ought to start looking for some larger game, something worth our while. We can kill bigger animals than the other groups, since we haveyour...uh...creature to help us haul it back."
She gestured vaguely at the porcupine thing, then unshouldered the case and strung the bow. Testing the draw, she found that it was heavier than she'd expected, although still a far cry from a proper longbow. Would this ornate plaything be able to bring down game of any sufficient size? She sure hoped so.
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Coatl of the Imilla
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 143
Appearance: Skin just a skosh darker than an old clay pot. The shade of his hat occludes black, sun-beaten eyes, wavy, matted hair, and just enough beard to protect his chin. His hands are coarse and leathery, with wiry tendons. His height isn't quite imposing, it's but enough to lend credence to a purposeful stride and posture.
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Equipment: An old duster, scarf, and cotton shirt and slacks. A thin brigandine with copper plates and a military-grade pitchfork.
A single candle, a reagent of now forbidden degrees of power.
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Skills and Abilities: On his home turf, Coatl could manifest formidable elemental magic. Here the magic is suppressed down to more subtle manipulations. However, the spirit of Cuaté, the "Witch", is still with him.
Coatl is, at his core, a simple farmhand. His experience working on ranches and plantations has earned him a strong physique and a way with animals. When he was a teenager, he also spent some time as a city guard and militiaman, giving him basic competence with a variety of weapons.
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Biography: The Imilla Clan were migrant farmers and laborers, selling themselves to wealthier kingdoms. They were a people bound by working shanties, and stories of an Eden from whence their ancestors came. As a youth, Coatl felt they were naive. They possessed the most basic of martial skills and required the aid of capricious spirits with weak magic to protect them.
His suspicions were half true, for when they encountered a malevolent kingdom, they were very nearly enslaved. However, his parent's commitment to peace earned him, and him in particular, the loyalty of an ancestral spirit that was far more dependable.
Using the power of this spirit, Coatl and a few other "chosen ones" helped bring prosperity and safety to their clan, ensuring that no one else would try to enslave them. The golden years of their people came to an abrupt end, however, when the flood waters came...
Registered: Mar 20, 2021 23:42:08 GMT -5
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Post by Coatl of the Imilla on Mar 31, 2021 13:14:25 GMT -5
Coatl was starting to regret bringing a phallic clam with him into the forest. The creature was still struggling and dripping sea water and other odd things, leaving an obvious scent trail for their group. Then again, it was probably nothing compared to what porcupuffalo was doing to the environment.
He could sense unsettlement from Coate's spirit. Ecosystems were so delicate, to the point where intruding into a new one was akin to trespassing on sacred land. She hoped that they would be able to settle the isles responsibly.
Coatl himself shrugged off such concerns. They needed to eat. Farms would take time to establish. They would have to sacrifice portions of the land in order to survive. The best they could do was try to take evenly from a variety of different resources so as to maintain balance-
Alright. The wiggling was getting annoying.
At some point during their trek, Coatl rubbed his fingers together. Then he placed his thumb and index finger on where he guessed the thing's "neck" was. His magic may have been weak, but one didn't need to call a lightning bolt to short out a brain stem.
*PZZT!*
(Godspeed, brave geoduck. Your sacrifice will not be in vain.)
When they arrived at Shiv's chosen spot, Coatl assembled his mental notes on what they observed. The different trees, grasses, fungi, anything that might be familiar between himself and his ghosty friend. The others seemed to want to get started on being productive, however.
He shook his water skin. He had water and dried fish for about a day, and he wasn't as spooked by the river water, though he knew he probably should have been.
He then drew a pocket knife to start carving up the departed clam into neat cubes and slices.
"If I can borrow some twine or rope, I can get started on different kinds of snare and deadfall traps around the perimeter. Mostly upwind though. Nothin' too fancy. Larger snare traps can trap deer just enough for one of us to deal a killing blow. We can also make traps for the river."
The presence of Cuate floated around him, invisibly pausing from tree to tree.
Coatl rubbed his chin. "Might be worth poking the trees for sap and seeds too, and the dirt for roots. We should work out a way to see what plants are poisonous and what ain't."
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Katiana Graves
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 109
Appearance: When you want to hide a tree, you hide it in a forest. Similarly, if you wanted to hide Katiana, you would put her in a crowd of humans. Brown hair, brown eyes, thin features, and an unremarkable height may not set her apart, but the way she manipulates her expressions and gallivants around certainly do. Those who know her are familiar with a particularly mischievous left-sided smirk, above which forms a dimple. Those who have yet to meet her will immediately know her for the way she bounces from one place to the next, holding her skirts in her hands.
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Equipment: A recurve bow made of elm, a small wood-cutting ax, and a skinning knife complete Katiana's non-exhaustive equipment. Being an adventurer who often loses herself in the wilderness, she also favors flint and tinder, rope, medicines, a waterskin, sewing supplies, and food rations.
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Skills and Abilities: Though not particularly concerned in the art of warfare, Katiana has been a hunter for as long as she could hold a bow, and over the years, she became proficient with it. One could assume that if she needed to point her arrow at a charging warrior rather than a boar, she would have the same chances of hitting it. Years of adventuring have also taught her skills in survival.
Though she has no skills in magic, nothing is stopping her from learning. Katiana's family has a history of mages, though none have been particularly gifted.
Registered: Mar 17, 2021 16:34:46 GMT -5
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Post by Katiana Graves on Mar 31, 2021 20:31:06 GMT -5
"I've got a half-full waterskin," said Katiana, holding it up to show Shyv'Ahna. "A bit of salted fish, too, though I'd rather not have to partake unless I really need to. That's the whole idea of this trip, aye?"
She helped the Av' where she could, and if she wanted it, again giving her wordless eyeings before she decided to touch anything. When she had a moment, she finished fastening the rest of her leather guard onto her forearm and nodded along to what everyone had to say. All excellent points and she did not have much to add. At least, not until they started the hunt. "First, let's see what we can observe and listen for in the woods. I know I'm not the only one to notice, but there are a few unfamiliar sounds already. It was faint, but did you catch that one wha-woop? What a wild sound!"
Kat couldn't help but giggle incessantly as she watched Coatl struggle with the geoduck. It certainly looked unwieldy! "What, don't have much experience with one that big?" she joked, giving him a cheeky wink and a smirk that put a dimple in her cheek.
Thinking on all the options they had ahead of them, Katiana hummed. "We'll need a pair of gloves to separate them so that we don't get anything awful on our hands. A separate container to boil things, too. This is going to be quite a process, isn't it? We might need to be careful of familiar things, even. What if they're a bit different than we remember them?" Such thoughts were both concerning and exciting. They might go years discovering new things on the island! Even things that could be right next to camp! The ability to walk two steps to the right and make a discovery thrilled the hunter!
With that in mind, she walked to the edge of camp and opened up her ears to the sounds, her nose to the smells, her eyes to the sights. She lifted them to the canopy first. Birds were everywhere, all the time, near and far and always busy doing something. They would likely be the first activity they caught and- oh.
There it was, a flap of wings and that hoarse wha-woop that Kat spoke of previously. Except, those wings weren't decorated with feathers, and the sun shown through them clearly, revealing the outline of delicate veins spidering through them. It was a little smaller than a hawk, had a long neck, a beak, and more membrane stretching from its scaley head down to its wings. Kat raised a brow.
"That's no bird," she mused. "Or a bat. Or any dragon I've ever seen." She raised her bow carefully, aiming at it. "Doesn't even look terribly meaty."
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Scarvy little Courage
Established
Roleplay posts: 27
Appearance: Scarvy is a small four foot red kobold. He’s fairly young, and still growing. Scarvy is about the full height he’ll grow to. He has amber eyes and scarlet scales. Scarvy is a strong kobold, able to lift stuff about twice his size.
Scarvy has two silver scales under his left eye. They appear to be attached to him permanently. He also has two big horns protruding from his head.
Equipment: Scarvy is nicely dressed in a green hood and cape. He has a dark blue vest with a grey wool shirt underneath. He has brown wool pants that are tightened right below his knees. His lower legs are wrapped in cloth. Probably acting as temporary shoes. Scarvy carries a short sword, but for him it’s about the size of a bastard sword, and a dagger. He’s very experienced in making traps and will often make traps to hunt his food.
Skills and Abilities: Scarvy is a skilled trapmaker and was taught to be a swordsman by his dragonborn father named ‘Darg’. He prefers to use his sword and dagger in a fight, rather than any trap. Scarvy's body language is perhaps the most telling thing when he communicates.
Biography: Scarvy is a young kobold around the age of seven. By his own words he is an orphan as his father was killed in the 'other place' wherever that was. He doesn't know where or even how he ended up here, but he wants to be like his father and be a strong warrior.
Registered: Mar 21, 2021 13:17:02 GMT -5
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Post by Scarvy little Courage on Mar 31, 2021 20:55:53 GMT -5
The scarlet red kobold scampered about, making his way through thistle and bush. he had traps to prepare and he shouldn't waste time. Scarvy ran from bush to tree gathering young sticks and roots. His plane was simple, to catch a number of small critters. The first few traps were simple and meant for small birds, others to catch rodents, but those wouldn't feed too many people. Scarvy's aim was set high, he wanted to trap a deer.
Scarvy scurried past the underbrush, with his materials in hand. If his father taught him correctly these traps would work. He went to a small clearing and set up the trap, it was curved and used the flexible roots like a twine, with tiny seeds placed in a circle of the root-twine. This kind of trap would work well for small critters. Scarvy moved on to another spot around ten feet far and began to set up another one of these traps.
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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 Apr 2, 2021 0:36:11 GMT -5
Ahna watched the singing woman, Katiana if she wasn’t mistaken, rummage around her Vardo, but after the first few questioning looks from her, it became clear that she was only trying to help. Reluctantly, Ahna let her do so, holding out her hand on occasion to stop her from opening certain boxes. There are some things Ahna wanted to keep private, of course.
After addressing the group, she climbed back into the Vardo and began opening drawers. “Food is not the issue,” she says as she searches. “That is why we are about to hunt. You have enough water though, good, we can wait until later to prepare drinking supplies.” She soon returns to the end of her Vardo with a ball of twine and a coiled length of rope. “Take your pick, Coatl.” She tossed one to him, then the other. “You may repay me some other time.”
She sat down at the end of the caravan again and looked to the others. “Bahsel can find roots easily, they are part of his diet, but…” She looked over to her beast, who was still rolling around in a patch of shallow grass and dirt, having a rare old time. “I think he is preoccupied, at least for now.” Speaking of Bahsel, she looked to Roxanne as she reached into her hood and scratched the back of her neck. “Bahsel… smells. Perhaps not as bad to you and I, but he will attract attention. The nature of large beasts, hm?” She looks back to him and strokes her chin for a moment. “No, he will not join us for the hunt, but I will fetch him after we make a large kill that we cannot carry.”
She returned into her Vardo for a moment as Katiana spoke once more, and soon returned with her own supplies. She had taken off her chainmail vest and her skirt that had hung from her sides, now standing in her greaves, leather corset, and a violet cotton shirt, though most was hidden under her elegant, yet rugged shawl. She wouldn’t need too much protection, and it would be better to avoid the clinking of chain on chain. In one hand stood a large pole-arm-like weapon, however, one just a touch taller than the already tall woman, topped with an ornate, curved blade on one side, and on the other side of the blade stood a hook. Even to the untrained eye, the workmanship of the blade was impressive, to say the least. She sat the blade against the back of the Vardo as she began taking off her jewellery, not wanting to wear anything that could give away her position on the hunt.
“I have supplies for cooking and preparing,” she says, head tilted as she detaches the caps and chains from her horns. “I have at least three cauldrons, but the largest will be for boiling water tonight. The rest I will let you use, but they do not leave my camp. I don’t want my supplies getting mixed in with the chaos at the beach.”
She looked from her horn to Kat as the last of her jewelry came loose and she moved onto the rings that decorated her face. “I heard it when we arrived too,” she notes, then she followed Kat’s eye line to the creature. “It is not something I recognise, for once.” She pulled the two rings from her eyebrow, the four on the curve of her sharply tipped ear, and the one in her septum. “It is a strange land we have come across when a lizard has a beak. It reminds me of an animal I came across on the southern islands. Bizarre creature, mammalian but laid eggs. Had a beak and a poison barb on its leg. The gods above have a sense of humour to create creatures like these.”
She looked to the group as she reached into her corset and slipped her jewellery into an inner pocket for safe keeping. She adjusted it, spread it through the pocket, then settled again, satisfied that her only valuables were kept safe. “Speaking of lizards though, we do not seem to be alone,” she says as she nods to the brush at the edge of her new camp, noting the red scales that slashed between the trees. “It came from the ship, no?” That meant it would be for hunting. Not that Ahna wanted to, it seemed smart, not something she would kill, but she didn’t know the others very well.
The Av’ looked to the others, then picked up her fauchard and slinging her crossbow over her back, looking like a proper Av’ hunter. “Unless you have misgivings about our red friend over here, and are supplied, shall we go?”
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Roxanne Fletcher
Committed
Roleplay posts: 76
Registered: Mar 16, 2021 22:33:09 GMT -5
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Post by Roxanne Fletcher on Apr 2, 2021 1:07:26 GMT -5
Roxanne eyed Coatl with a vague grimace of disgust as he pulled out that weird clam thing again, cringing as it flopped in his hands. Why had he brought that thing along? Just to torment her? Didn't he see how uncomfortable it was making her? The sharp crackle of a magical burst made her jump, the sound absolutely unexpected and completely out of place in such a remote spot. The benthic obscenity went flaccid in the man's hands, and Roxanne shook her head and turned away. Whatever business the Coatl had with that clam could remain his business.
"Did you really carry that thing with you?" she asked, giving a derisive sniff. "How did you even find something like that, anyways? I don't know that we'd ever be able to find enough sap and seeds to feed everyone, although I suppose they might be a nice snack if they're not poisonous. Who eats sap, anyways? I must say, Mr. Coatl...you've got some strange ideas as to what things are edible."
Leaving the man to deconstruct the clam, she glanced over to see what sort of trouble Katiana had gotten herself into. How was the shanty-woman so cheerful? They were on a deserted island and would likely all die slow deaths of starvation and disease, and as far as Roxanne could tell there wasn't anything to be cheerful about. Of course, she supposed that she shouldn't have been surprised. Anyone who could sing through the dead of night and get right back up to do it again in the morning couldn't be right in the head.
"New and unfamiliar plants and fungi could very well kill us, careful or not," she said, her voice solemn. "Leave the botany to the naturalists, Miss Graves. For now, we'll stick with what we know. Large animals are rarely poisonous, so we'll try to find one of those. I heard it too, and it reminds me of some ridiculous exotic bird that my cousin kept once. If you see it, put an arrow through it. The sound grates on my ears."
The sight of the strange winged creature got her attention as well, and she nocked an arrow to her bowstring. She didn't draw, waiting instead for Katiana to take the shot. The thing was fairly close and didn't seem to be moving too much, making it an easy shot. If Katiana missed at this distance, Roxanne would have serious doubts about her ability to effectively bring back any game at all. As she mused on her potential task of carrying the entire team's efforts, she spotted something small and red running around in the underbrush. Her bow was up in an instant, arrow drawn to her jaw and pointed at the small creature. She lowered it a moment later, however, spotting the lizard-thing's clothes. A kobold. It wouldn't do to shoot one of those, and she doubted it would taste good besides.
"Ho there, kobold," she called. "Come out from the woods and into the open. You'll get mistaken for game and end up catching an arrow if you lurk around in the brush like that."
Sighing, she put the arrow back in the quiver and turned away from the kobold. She'd never been especially fond of the things, which hadn't been commonly seen where she'd grown up. Hadn't her grandmother always told her not to trust anything that could lick its eyeballs? At Shyv'Ahna's mention of leaving her creature behind, she smirked and nodded.
"I doubt we'd be able to sneak up on much of anything with that creature lumbering around," she said, waving vaguely at the beast as it rubbed up against a shrub. "We'll have to bring it over once we kill something large, that's all."
She didn't comment on the creature's smell, not wanting to be too rude to the nomad. It wasn't exactly the most fragrant thing she'd ever smelled, and would be glad to be away from it and in the fresh air of the forest. How did they tolerate being around the beasts so long? Perhaps the nomads simply didn't have a sense of smell. The purple woman seemed clean enough, but one never did know with these people.
"That creature sounds like an abomination," she said. "No one animal needs that many different traits. It's ridiculous. Are you sure it was real? I've heard tales of surgeons and naturalists sewing things together to create new species. In any case, we'd best get going. Miss Graves, kindly shoot that creature so we can be on our way. It doesn't look like it tastes any worse than salted herring."
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Coatl of the Imilla
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 143
Appearance: Skin just a skosh darker than an old clay pot. The shade of his hat occludes black, sun-beaten eyes, wavy, matted hair, and just enough beard to protect his chin. His hands are coarse and leathery, with wiry tendons. His height isn't quite imposing, it's but enough to lend credence to a purposeful stride and posture.
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Equipment: An old duster, scarf, and cotton shirt and slacks. A thin brigandine with copper plates and a military-grade pitchfork.
A single candle, a reagent of now forbidden degrees of power.
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Skills and Abilities: On his home turf, Coatl could manifest formidable elemental magic. Here the magic is suppressed down to more subtle manipulations. However, the spirit of Cuaté, the "Witch", is still with him.
Coatl is, at his core, a simple farmhand. His experience working on ranches and plantations has earned him a strong physique and a way with animals. When he was a teenager, he also spent some time as a city guard and militiaman, giving him basic competence with a variety of weapons.
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Biography: The Imilla Clan were migrant farmers and laborers, selling themselves to wealthier kingdoms. They were a people bound by working shanties, and stories of an Eden from whence their ancestors came. As a youth, Coatl felt they were naive. They possessed the most basic of martial skills and required the aid of capricious spirits with weak magic to protect them.
His suspicions were half true, for when they encountered a malevolent kingdom, they were very nearly enslaved. However, his parent's commitment to peace earned him, and him in particular, the loyalty of an ancestral spirit that was far more dependable.
Using the power of this spirit, Coatl and a few other "chosen ones" helped bring prosperity and safety to their clan, ensuring that no one else would try to enslave them. The golden years of their people came to an abrupt end, however, when the flood waters came...
Registered: Mar 20, 2021 23:42:08 GMT -5
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Post by Coatl of the Imilla on Apr 2, 2021 16:07:28 GMT -5
Coatl was far too polite to reply to Miss Graves' rakish taunting. He only raised an eyebrow and pretended not to get the joke.
I like her.
Peas in a pod you two are.
I still remember the words to that last song.
Does not having a meat brain help with that? I'm not sure how that works.
You know something? Me neither.
...
As he dressed the geoduck into convenient bites, he replied to Roxanne.
"Back in my world, I was no slouch when it came to tossing fire and splittin' water. Of course, I had a bit of help. It so happens I still do. This place just has her a bit under the weather. But she can still pick out odd things squirming in the sand."
He scooped up the pieces and placed them into the shellfish's own shell. "Well miss, my father used to joke that are two kinds of things in the world: things that are edible, and things that are only edible once. I just think we should look over all our options before we start making lumber out of things that might help us get through a famine."
He got up to grab a share of twine from Shiv's wagon. "Thank you kindly Miss Anna, or should I just call you Shiv Anna? Ain't never met your kind before so not familiar with your naming conventions."
Coatl recognized the red creature's body type as similar to the other lizard man he'd seen on the boat. Neither one looked fully grown, but this one was even smaller than the other. If there were more lizard men survivors on the ship and washing up ashore, it wouldn't do to let one of their young die alone in the forest. Besides, for whatever reason, Cuate seemed to have a soft spot for the critters.
"Hey kid. I'm planning to make more traps up stream. Why don't you come with me and we can work together. I can probably make bigger traps than you, but I'll bet you're handy with little ones." He held up the ball of twine and shook it like he was trying to attract a dog with a chew toy. "Safety in numbers too. Something dangerous might have tracked our spiky friend over there." He tilted his head towards Bahsel.
(He sighed internally. Three and a half women in the party and he was probably gonna end up playing mom. Of course he hid this sentiment from his face, but he could hear ghostly laughter in the background of his mind.)
As Roxanne instructed Miss Graves to shoot the alien bird lizard down, Coatl smirked. "Bet you half a clam shell you can't hit it dead center of mass."
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Scarvy little Courage
Established
Roleplay posts: 27
Appearance: Scarvy is a small four foot red kobold. He’s fairly young, and still growing. Scarvy is about the full height he’ll grow to. He has amber eyes and scarlet scales. Scarvy is a strong kobold, able to lift stuff about twice his size.
Scarvy has two silver scales under his left eye. They appear to be attached to him permanently. He also has two big horns protruding from his head.
Equipment: Scarvy is nicely dressed in a green hood and cape. He has a dark blue vest with a grey wool shirt underneath. He has brown wool pants that are tightened right below his knees. His lower legs are wrapped in cloth. Probably acting as temporary shoes. Scarvy carries a short sword, but for him it’s about the size of a bastard sword, and a dagger. He’s very experienced in making traps and will often make traps to hunt his food.
Skills and Abilities: Scarvy is a skilled trapmaker and was taught to be a swordsman by his dragonborn father named ‘Darg’. He prefers to use his sword and dagger in a fight, rather than any trap. Scarvy's body language is perhaps the most telling thing when he communicates.
Biography: Scarvy is a young kobold around the age of seven. By his own words he is an orphan as his father was killed in the 'other place' wherever that was. He doesn't know where or even how he ended up here, but he wants to be like his father and be a strong warrior.
Registered: Mar 21, 2021 13:17:02 GMT -5
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Post by Scarvy little Courage on Apr 3, 2021 11:06:47 GMT -5
The sight of the strange winged creature got her attention as well, and she nocked an arrow to her bowstring. She didn't draw, waiting instead for Katiana to take the shot. The thing was fairly close and didn't seem to be moving too much, making it an easy shot. If Katiana missed at this distance, Roxanne would have serious doubts about her ability to effectively bring back any game at all. As she mused on her potential task of carrying the entire team's efforts, she spotted something small and red running around in the underbrush. Her bow was up in an instant, arrow drawn to her jaw and pointed at the small creature. She lowered it a moment later, however, spotting the lizard-thing's clothes. A kobold. It wouldn't do to shoot one of those, and she doubted it would taste good besides. "Ho there, kobold," she called. "Come out from the woods and into the open. You'll get mistaken for game and end up catching an arrow if you lurk around in the brush like that." Sighing, she put the arrow back in the quiver and turned away from the kobold. She'd never been especially fond of the things, which hadn't been commonly seen where she'd grown up. Hadn't her grandmother always told her not to trust anything that could lick its eyeballs? At Shyv'Ahna's mention of leaving her creature behind, she smirked and nodded. Scarvy perked up, raising his head. He looked around till he noticed the others. He instinctively pulled his hood over his head, his horns protruding from two holes in the hood. Coatl recognized the red creature's body type as similar to the other lizard man he'd seen on the boat. Neither one looked fully grown, but this one was even smaller than the other. If there were more lizard men survivors on the ship and washing up ashore, it wouldn't do to let one of their young die alone in the forest. Besides, for whatever reason, Cuate seemed to have a soft spot for the critters. "Hey kid. I'm planning to make more traps up stream. Why don't you come with me and we can work together. I can probably make bigger traps than you, but I'll bet you're handy with little ones." He held up the ball of twine and shook it like he was trying to attract a dog with a chew toy. "Safety in numbers too. Something dangerous might have tracked our spiky friend over there." He tilted his head towards Bahsel. (He sighed internally. Three and a half women in the party and he was probably gonna end up playing mom. Of course he hid this sentiment from his face, but he could hear ghostly laughter in the background of his mind.) Scarvy's tail wagged at the idea, these people must be friends! The young kobold ran over to Coatl, his vivid amber eyes dilating with excitement. His child-like tone squeaked as he spoke, "Wanna make a pitfall! I bet we could trap something as big as a deer!" The kobold then added, "I'm Scavy! The pretty lady wanted me to go get food!"
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Katiana Graves
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 109
Appearance: When you want to hide a tree, you hide it in a forest. Similarly, if you wanted to hide Katiana, you would put her in a crowd of humans. Brown hair, brown eyes, thin features, and an unremarkable height may not set her apart, but the way she manipulates her expressions and gallivants around certainly do. Those who know her are familiar with a particularly mischievous left-sided smirk, above which forms a dimple. Those who have yet to meet her will immediately know her for the way she bounces from one place to the next, holding her skirts in her hands.
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Equipment: A recurve bow made of elm, a small wood-cutting ax, and a skinning knife complete Katiana's non-exhaustive equipment. Being an adventurer who often loses herself in the wilderness, she also favors flint and tinder, rope, medicines, a waterskin, sewing supplies, and food rations.
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Skills and Abilities: Though not particularly concerned in the art of warfare, Katiana has been a hunter for as long as she could hold a bow, and over the years, she became proficient with it. One could assume that if she needed to point her arrow at a charging warrior rather than a boar, she would have the same chances of hitting it. Years of adventuring have also taught her skills in survival.
Though she has no skills in magic, nothing is stopping her from learning. Katiana's family has a history of mages, though none have been particularly gifted.
Registered: Mar 17, 2021 16:34:46 GMT -5
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Post by Katiana Graves on Apr 4, 2021 7:49:16 GMT -5
Katiana let the arrow fly. She was so still that if one hadn't been watching closely, it would have been hard to tell that she let it go. It sunk deep into the creature's chest no sooner than it could wrap its tiny brain around what happened, its squawk wheezing and breathless: she'd struck a lung. Katiana smirked. "Good enough?" she gloated, lowering her bow. The creature lurched backward, eyes rolling in its head as it began to fall, but before its talons released the branch it was perched on, a shadow descended above it, grasping the near-dead body in a set of large, powerful jaws. A hoarse gasp escaped Katiana's lips, not one of fear... but insult! "Wait!" she cried, approaching the large animal. It wasn't entirely different from the creature she had shot, except feathery, with a smaller set of wings and much larger, longer, and more muscular legs. Horns grew from the crown of its head and curled around its lithe skull. It took one look at the party, cocked its head, then leaped away to the next tree, then the next. Kat grit her teeth. "Oh no, you don't you massive sard!" Next thing they knew, she was sprinting after it, fists pumping at her sides, one holding her bow. She drew three arrows and notched one, aiming through the trees at the oversized bird-lizard. She let one fly, then the next, then the next in incredibly quick succession. Though there was no doubt that the huntress was skilled, the creature bounced so erratically through the trees that she missed every shot by a hair. It landed on the ground, tree branches thinning out ahead, a massive hill blocking the way ahead... or so Kat thought. Just as she cornered it, the thing bent its knees until it nearly touched the ground, then launched itself up the steep incline. Katiana's jaw hit the floor. And yet, she pressed on, grabbing any variety of roots and crevasses in the dirt she could find. As she climbed up, the creature popped its head over the ledge, looking at the party, and through a mouthful of prey, squawked in... laughter? Before dipping away.
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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 Apr 7, 2021 8:51:04 GMT -5
“Ahna is fine,” the purpled skinned Av’ says to Coatl, making sure to annunciate her name correctly. “And I may apparently be the last one you meet, so make it count.” When he goes on to speak with the kobold, her attention shifts.
“An abomination, perhaps, but nonetheless real,” the Av’ says in reply to Roxanne. “It was not alone, the islands were home to even larger creatures. Big ears, thick tails, moved around by jumping, carried their young in a pouch. It was a part of the world that would confuse even the most seasoned of travellers.” She gestures up to the trees around them. “Not unlike our new home, I am sure.”
Ahna watches the bird circle for a little while longer until it was struck with Kat’s arrow, eliciting a small whistle from the horned woman as she watched it fall. “A good shot, one to be proud of,” she says as she crosses one arm over the other, both disappearing into the sleeves of her outfit. It was important to keep one’s hands warm before a hunt, after all. It seemed like celebrations would be short lived, however, as her kill is swiftly stolen, bringing a smile to Ahna’s lips. “As quickly as the gods give, they take away.” She admired the creature in the short time they had, then leaned towards Roxanne briefly. “The legs, they remind me of another creature on those islands. Flightless, but massive birds that seemed t-” Before she could finish, however, the bird took off, and with it Kat.
She scrunched her mouth up for a moment then looked from where Kat had taken off to Roxanne. “She will likely get herself killed,” she says, as if weighing up the options. There wasn’t much to weigh up in the end, however, as she shifts the weight of the crossbow on her back and grabs her two handed weapon. She shrugs at Roxanne with a small smirk, then off she goes, running off after Kat at an impressive speed, moving like a purple blur with her weapon pointed forward.
Bahsel watches as his master took off, grunted, then promptly fell on his side for some more dirt bath time.
The trees and branches shot past Ahna as she ran, but as she saw the sudden incline, she found herself looking for options. She could climb the trees, but jumping between them was dangerous, and she had only tried it a handful of times. Instead, she starts off after Kat, seeing that she had made it about half way up. Thankfully, she was a good climber, and quickly found appropriate footholds.
Ah, the joy of the hunt. She hadn’t been on a hunt this exhilarating in years! Even if climbing with her chosen weapon was a little more annoying than it needed to be.
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Roxanne Fletcher
Committed
Roleplay posts: 76
Registered: Mar 16, 2021 22:33:09 GMT -5
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Post by Roxanne Fletcher on Apr 7, 2021 23:14:55 GMT -5
Roxanne's eyes followed the arrow as it sped through the air, letting out an appreciative whistle as it thudded into the creature's breast. It wasn't a particularly impressive shot, but it was still nice to see the first shot of the hunt go well. Seeing that Katiana had some modicum of skill was a relief, at least. It was reassuring to know that she wouldn't have to be the only one who could actually get things done around here, although she still wasn't sure about the other two. She didn't count the kobold, who didn't look capable of bringing down anything larger than an unruly chicken. Why had he come along, anyways? She was about to comment on Katiana's shot before a much larger creature snapped up their quarry and ran off. Roxanne cursed, unslinging her own bow, but didn't have time to so much as nock an arrow before Katiana took off running after the beast.
"No doubt," she agreed, nodding to Shyv'Ahna as they watched the shanty-singing woman run. "If she falls off from that height, she'll be lucky to get away with just a broken leg. It's just silly. What did I ever do to get saddled w- hey, where are you going?"
She stared wide-eyed as the purple nomad started running after Katiana, sprinting through the woods and making her way up the hill. What was wrong with these people? Surely they could see that climbing a steep hill in unfamiliar terrain after a giant bird thing was a bad idea, couldn't they? Roxanne sputtered in exasperation, turning to Coatl and waving frantically towards the two women as they clambered up the hill.
"Don't tell me you're going to run after them too," she said. "It's a silly idea. Best case scenario, they run themselves ragged and don't end up catching it. Worse case, they fall and break their necks. There are easier things to catch, I'm sure. Please tell me you're not going to run after them, are you?"
There was a slight hint of desperation in her voice, as though frantically trying to convince herself that she wasn't the crazy one here. Certainly at least Coatl would be reasonable, wouldn't he?
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Coatl of the Imilla
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 143
Appearance: Skin just a skosh darker than an old clay pot. The shade of his hat occludes black, sun-beaten eyes, wavy, matted hair, and just enough beard to protect his chin. His hands are coarse and leathery, with wiry tendons. His height isn't quite imposing, it's but enough to lend credence to a purposeful stride and posture.
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Equipment: An old duster, scarf, and cotton shirt and slacks. A thin brigandine with copper plates and a military-grade pitchfork.
A single candle, a reagent of now forbidden degrees of power.
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Skills and Abilities: On his home turf, Coatl could manifest formidable elemental magic. Here the magic is suppressed down to more subtle manipulations. However, the spirit of Cuaté, the "Witch", is still with him.
Coatl is, at his core, a simple farmhand. His experience working on ranches and plantations has earned him a strong physique and a way with animals. When he was a teenager, he also spent some time as a city guard and militiaman, giving him basic competence with a variety of weapons.
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Biography: The Imilla Clan were migrant farmers and laborers, selling themselves to wealthier kingdoms. They were a people bound by working shanties, and stories of an Eden from whence their ancestors came. As a youth, Coatl felt they were naive. They possessed the most basic of martial skills and required the aid of capricious spirits with weak magic to protect them.
His suspicions were half true, for when they encountered a malevolent kingdom, they were very nearly enslaved. However, his parent's commitment to peace earned him, and him in particular, the loyalty of an ancestral spirit that was far more dependable.
Using the power of this spirit, Coatl and a few other "chosen ones" helped bring prosperity and safety to their clan, ensuring that no one else would try to enslave them. The golden years of their people came to an abrupt end, however, when the flood waters came...
Registered: Mar 20, 2021 23:42:08 GMT -5
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Post by Coatl of the Imilla on Apr 8, 2021 15:45:14 GMT -5
The death ostrich thief made a tempting target for Coatl's spear, but he held off for fear of hitting Miss Graves. Both of them were spry and agile, and Miss Ahna seemed sprier still. If he started right this second though, maybe he could sprint after them and-
Roxanne's pleas made him pause.
He huffed and scowled in the direction of the runners. A part of him really did want to chase after them, But...
Yah.
Yah.
He relaxed an iron grip on his pitchfork.
"No ma'am. I'm probably slower than the two of them, meaning our group would get stretched out like an hour glass if I chased after them. None of us should be by themselves right now, since their could be predators about. And since you're disinclined to chase after them too, best I stick with you. Besides, we'll be a better rescue party if we work together anyways."
Wink at her. Wink at her. It'll be so cute.
He winked at her, but it seemed oddly reluctant. His expression was too sodden to properly wink at people.
Yay!
He turned back to his little red friend. "How about we get started on that pitfall trap while we wait for those two to return. Let's make the pretty lady happy, yeah?"
To Roxanne it'd be obvious Coatl was trying hard to be friendly to the kid without being condescending.
"Miss Fletcher, since you're obviously one of the smart ones, what do you is the best way we can help those two while remaining in our carved out forest abode? I was thinking while we're out making traps we could also make some kind of marks for them to follow if they get lost, and maybe some kind of warnings for the more well-hidden or dangerous traps."
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Scarvy little Courage
Established
Roleplay posts: 27
Appearance: Scarvy is a small four foot red kobold. He’s fairly young, and still growing. Scarvy is about the full height he’ll grow to. He has amber eyes and scarlet scales. Scarvy is a strong kobold, able to lift stuff about twice his size.
Scarvy has two silver scales under his left eye. They appear to be attached to him permanently. He also has two big horns protruding from his head.
Equipment: Scarvy is nicely dressed in a green hood and cape. He has a dark blue vest with a grey wool shirt underneath. He has brown wool pants that are tightened right below his knees. His lower legs are wrapped in cloth. Probably acting as temporary shoes. Scarvy carries a short sword, but for him it’s about the size of a bastard sword, and a dagger. He’s very experienced in making traps and will often make traps to hunt his food.
Skills and Abilities: Scarvy is a skilled trapmaker and was taught to be a swordsman by his dragonborn father named ‘Darg’. He prefers to use his sword and dagger in a fight, rather than any trap. Scarvy's body language is perhaps the most telling thing when he communicates.
Biography: Scarvy is a young kobold around the age of seven. By his own words he is an orphan as his father was killed in the 'other place' wherever that was. He doesn't know where or even how he ended up here, but he wants to be like his father and be a strong warrior.
Registered: Mar 21, 2021 13:17:02 GMT -5
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Post by Scarvy little Courage on Apr 8, 2021 18:47:29 GMT -5
Scarvy watches the arrows fly. His eyes light up with excitement as they whizz through the air. Scarvy jumps with excitement, bouncing in place. His tail swings side to side as he rests his hands on a sheath bound to his thigh. Dad would've loved this! Scarvy watches the bird with his keen eyes, following its movements as it darted in circles. His tail begins slowing its movement and curling at the tip, not unlike a cat while its hunting. The kobold leans forward, ignoring the voices around him as if he couldn't hear them. He lowers his arms and relaxes his hands. He turned back to his little red friend. "How about we get started on that pitfall trap while we wait for those two to return. Let's make the pretty lady happy, yeah?" Scarvy's head shoots around, staring at Coatl for a half second before blinking. He almost forgot the traps. Scarvy relaxes his body and corrects his arched posture. The kobold smiles, his tail begins wagging again, more cheerful and less focused. "We should make it twice your height!" The child kobold raises his arms as high as he could to illustrate his point.
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