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Post by Huey and the Thralls on Jan 24, 2023 20:31:42 GMT -5
Damianos' expression grew dark. "How regretful. All children deserve a good, warm home where they are supported. I suppose it was not the same background as the rest of us. Either way..." The tone was strange. Disappointed. Then it grew lighter, to his normal lilt, "Either way, I suppose we are here now."
They worked until the sun began to feather the horizon. The little boy hissed as both he and his sister sprinted off into the woods. The tiefling looked into the distance and sighed. They had managed to take down the entire tent and had even started to make bricks from the clay, among a few other things under the Goodwoman's instruction. "Unfortunately, it is time for us to depart, but we shall be back at dusk. We have arranged for sleeping quarters for you in the meantime. Your host should be by shortly to help you set up. Good day, Bladesmith."
He was off just as soon as he'd appeared, off into the fog snaking around the forest.
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Piotr Kemeny
New
Roleplay posts: 9
Age: 34
Appearance: Despite his very tall and hefty appearance, Piotr boasts soft facial features and a very clean, trimmed beard that is well taken care of. His hair, brown most times, blondes in the sun, and his bangs often grow over to mask his green eyes. He wears plain clothing, most made from rough linen.
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Equipment: Piotr carries a hefty leather pack that holds all the tools of an apothecary: vials and jars, a small cauldron, a mortar and pestle, scrolls of knowledge, sieves, oils, herbs- there is perhaps nothing worthy of note missing from the man's collection.
______________________________________________________
Skills and Abilities: Piotr is not a fighting man, nor is he a mage. His skill in the knowledge of medicine is all he has, along with a few other typical, rudimentary trades he picked up over the years.
_______________________________________________________
Place of Residence: Sevintera
Registered: Nov 13, 2022 0:57:09 GMT -5
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Post by Piotr Kemeny on Jan 24, 2023 20:42:39 GMT -5
Not soon after, heavy footsteps alerted her of the visitor's approach: he was a golem of a man, broad-shouldered and intimidatingly tall, with enough weight to sink into the ground with each step. Despite this, he was dressed in the simple linen robes of a medicine man. His expression was soft, as were his delicate movements as he wound through the morning buzz of people. Once he caught sight of Hævys, he lifted a hand in an enthusiastic wave, quickening his pace toward her. He placed his palm flat on his whimple, afraid it might fly off in his hurry.
"You must be the blacksmith, aye? Yes, I believe you are! I am Piotr, the apothecary around these parts. You will need somewhere to stay while things are under construction, I am told. There are many vacant tents around my own. What would you like to bring with you?"
His voice was deep, resounding. The way he looked, he would have made a good soldier at the vanguard, not a gentle herbalist.
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Hævys Bladesmith
Committed
Roleplay posts: 61
Age: Nearing her mid-30s
Appearance: She has a dark brown, bordering on black head of hair, kept short, not reaching halfway down her neck. Her skin is a darker tan-ish shade, with grey eyes. Standing around 5'10", she has a rugged frame, used to heavy labor and working in the forge. She usually wears a pair of loose fitting pants, with a snug cloth wrap covering up her chest. While in the forge, she wears a black smith's apron as well. While her pants usually covers it, there is a large indent into her skin on her thigh, as if part of the skin had been sheared off of that area, a few layers deep.
Equipment: While a smith before she got here, most of her equipment couldn't be carried during the flood. She's lucky she got out with a few forging hammers and a pair of tongs for handling hot metal, as well as her trusty pata(a type of sword-gauntlet), for if someone attempts to cross her or steal her wares.
Skills and Abilities: A skilled blacksmith, focusing on weapons and armor, with some skill also with jewelry and building materials such as hinges or nails. As well as this, she is skilled in the magics of enchanting her wares while creating them, giving enchantments of durability, of good health, or other small enchantments to make using them easier. However, she could only do this for things she was forging, not finished works, and even then she currently refuses to enchant her works. As well as this, although she currently refuses to do it as well, she can give people permanent marks on their skin, that would not wash off no matter what, and even enchant those.
Biography: A skilled smith from a young age, Hævys loved to create. She would work with her father in his forge, learning his craft, even if many others said she couldn't, or that she shouldn't and she should be proper. Naturally, Hævys wanted to prove them wrong. After learning all she could from her father, she travelled her land, looking for the best smiths to teach her what her father could not. Eventually she'd stumble on a smith who taught her many other talents, including, most importantly, the art of enchanted forging. Upon returning home and beginning her own work, she was soon summoned to the capital, to work towards making equipment for the army. Here, she would gain the epithet of Magesmith.
As well as working for the army, she would open a small business on the side, giving people permanent marks on their skin in any design they chose, a skill she picked up on her travels. However, one day she would experiment(with a willing participant) on attempting to enchant her marks. It was a success, and word soon reached the king. Immediately, she was given a new position with the prison. She would use her marking ability to give prisoners permanent enchanted marks, ones that would seal any magical ability they possessed, as well as teaching others to do the same.
However, soon, it became apparent that many of these prisoners did not deserve their punishment, nor prison time at all. Many people were sentenced to this not only for crimes, but for things outside of their control and for speaking out against the war. Hævys could not take this, speaking out against it. As a result, she was branded a criminal and given one of the marks she taught others to make, sealing her magic as she was thrown in prison.
Eventually, she would escape, and cut the mark off of her body, barely surviving with the bloodloss and possible infection. Even though she was no longer sealed, she refused to make another mark for anybody, and refused to enchant anything anymore. She refused her old epithet and became simply Hævys Bladesmith, and opening a small, struggling smithy for a short time, before the flood hit.
Registered: Apr 12, 2021 16:43:28 GMT -5
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Post by Hævys Bladesmith on Jan 30, 2023 14:44:12 GMT -5
Hævys quietly grunted along in agreement with the boy. Here they were. Here, at the end of the world. “Lucky us.”
As the morning dew wicked away to the rising sun, they’d continue their work. All in all they’d made good progress. The space was cleared, they’d started on some foundations. They had ended quite abruptly, but in all honesty that was something Hævys was thankful for. She was up most of the night, only to be stopped in the morning by the children. She was in desperate need of some sleep. The smith nodded to Damianos, giving the children a short wave goodbye. “Later kids.” She said, “Thanks for the help.”
Once the children left, Hævys walked over to where they’d set her things for now and picked up a hammer. She closed her eyes and began to stretch, enjoying the kiss of the sun on her skin. How strangely those kinds reacted to it, she thought. Hissing like angry cats. She could guess they weren’t huge fans of the sun, just from the deathly paleness in their skin, but their reaction to it was pretty overblown. If she didn’t know any better, she’d almost think they were…
…oh.
Fuck.
Her heart sank like a brick as her mind began to race, trying to connect the dots while she hoped against hope that she was wrong. But it all added up too well. The aversion to sunlight, the enthrallment, their strange aging, the tea that tasted like blood.It reminded her all to well of the stories she’d heard of desert monsters, half demon half man. Of the gossip she heard in court of the Vérilian general, of how she supposedly puppeteered their king. The Correas matched the descriptions almost perfectly, but Hævys was almost unable to utter the word as her hammer fell from her grip. It came out barely more than a breath, one where even Hævys herself struggled to hear it.
“Vampires.”
She couldn’t believe it. She didn’t believe it. Vampires were just tall tales, stories mothers told their children to stop them wandering into the desert. Right? And yet, no other answer seemed to present itself so readily. So completely.
The heavy approach of another quickly broke the blacksmith from her thoughts. She slowly bent to pick up the hammer she had dropped, before turning to greet her new visitor. She appraised him quickly. Skin that had seen the sun, clear eyes of a jovial persuasion. At the very least, he seemed to have his own wits about him rather than someone else’s. That eased her mind a little.
“Yup.” Hævys responded to the kindly herbalist. “Hævys Bladesmith.” She extended out a hand for him to shake. “Sounds like you heard right, Piotr.” After that short exchange, she turned to her belongings and started to grab the few things she’d need. “Just this, rest’ll be good for now. Lead on.”
As the two walked to the vacant tents, Hævys kept looking around, seeing what else was going on in camp. Seeing what she could focus on to distract from any other thoughts she had brewing. With few other options, she had to turn to one of her worst enemies: small talk. “Said you’re an apothecary?” She asked Piotr, limping as fast as she could to make sure she wasn’t going to slow him down. “Don’t really seem the type at first, honestly. What led you to it?”
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Piotr Kemeny
New
Roleplay posts: 9
Age: 34
Appearance: Despite his very tall and hefty appearance, Piotr boasts soft facial features and a very clean, trimmed beard that is well taken care of. His hair, brown most times, blondes in the sun, and his bangs often grow over to mask his green eyes. He wears plain clothing, most made from rough linen.
_________________________________________________________
Equipment: Piotr carries a hefty leather pack that holds all the tools of an apothecary: vials and jars, a small cauldron, a mortar and pestle, scrolls of knowledge, sieves, oils, herbs- there is perhaps nothing worthy of note missing from the man's collection.
______________________________________________________
Skills and Abilities: Piotr is not a fighting man, nor is he a mage. His skill in the knowledge of medicine is all he has, along with a few other typical, rudimentary trades he picked up over the years.
_______________________________________________________
Place of Residence: Sevintera
Registered: Nov 13, 2022 0:57:09 GMT -5
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Post by Piotr Kemeny on Feb 7, 2023 21:18:19 GMT -5
Piotr laughed, and it juxtaposed his voice completely- high, clear, more of a giggle. "Quite a story, that one! But we have time."
As the apothecary tapped on his chin, thinking of where to start, the rush of people busying about swept them up in hushed chatter. At an earlier time, before the maneating mist and Correa family's arrival, there would have been shouts and laughter and belching. Now, even the breakfast bell sounded dour and cautious. It wasn't as bad as the dead silence and the weeping of the first week, but it wasn't ideal, either. Despite this, there was a good amount of progress; a well had been drawn and filters made, scaffolding for houses put down, lumber stacked, and trees cleared in the eastern forest. They smelled and looked vaguely of pine, but the wood was pink on the inside and darkened when dry. The cones were a similar color and almost looked like roses when they opened. A few decided to name it appropriately: Rosewood.
"When I was a wee thing, perhaps so tall-" Piotr started, holding his hands down toward his waist, which was barely under the height of some of his comrades in the camp, "I was a mean, scrappy thing. Can you believe it? And I was so much bigger than the other children, so it was easy to throw my weight around. The town guard- I think her name was Dame Klee- she told my parents I'd make a great knight if it weren't for my temper. Pappa was too proud of his very strong boy, you see, so I did not receive any discipline, and I went on my merry way, thwacking other children with twigs, pushing them down, having a laugh- until one day another kid steps up to me. I was holdin' her cat upside down by its tail, makin' it scream somethin' awful! And she didn't like that one bit, so she knees me in the nuts. Bam! I drop the cat and go down on me knees, bracin' my crotch." He paused to laugh, even wince a bit at the memory.
"I must have made some kind of awful expression, cuz soon as I got on one knee she bolted into the woods. You ever heard the thing about bears? Fast in a straight line, they'll bowl any tree over, but if you go downhill-" He raised two fingers with a smile, then walked them down his sloped arm with a creep, "- they have to slow down! I guess that's thought she was goin' with, because she went straight into the town gully. She didn't think that the bear was too angry and stupid to slow down because he'd been kicked in the nuts, so what happens? I go down the gully, too. But I don't walk down, hah! No, no, I roll down. I roll and roll, and I go so fast I catch up to the lass in no time. I bowl her over like she's a twig, and we both go tumblin' to the bottom."
Suddenly, the man's expression grew somber. His eyes softened, his shoulders slumped. "There was... rocks at the bottom. Big sharp ones. I got cut up a bit, but she... she got one straight through the ribs, another ripped through her foot. I'd caused a lot of bloody noses, but I'd never really hurt someone before. I'd never seen so much blood. And she was hardly makin' a noise, you know? Not crying out, just making little hiccup noises. Gods above, I never moved so fast in my life. I picked 'er up, screaming and crying loud as I could, my eyes and nose so full of tears and snot I almost couldn't breathe. I brought her to this medicine man. He wasn't one of us, but he'd made home there for the year, Tristam. He couldn't get an answer out of me when I shoved her in his arms! I was wailin' 'I didn't mean it, I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I won't do it again!' You know, as a child would. He goes to work immediately, inspectin' her wounds, removing the rocks, stopping the bleeding. And suddenly he turns to me, he goes 'Oh, Piotr! It's a tragedy. I haven't any herbs left for the pain! Go into the woods and look for the purple flours that grow on the bank of the river.' And oh, I nod my head so fast and run out."
When they came to the vacant tents, the apothecary opened up a tent flap. It wasn't huge, but the emptiness had a refreshing roominess to it. A little cot sat on the far end, large enough for two.
"I searched until the sun went down. It took me so long, but I finally found the flowers. The only reason I didn't see them sooner was because of the tears, wouldn't you know." He chuckled again, helping Hævys set up. "And when I came back, the lass was all bandaged up and sat down with her mother, and here I was bleedin' and snotty and bruised up with a fistful of flowers that I'd crushed in my big hands, saying all I wanted to do was save her. If it wasn't already dark, I'd have seen Tristam grinning, that fox. He took the flowers out of my hands and guided me over to the mortar and pestle, givin' me directions, putting this and that in. And when I finished it, you know what I'd made? Lavender butter. But I didn't know that! To me, it was a magical healing cream for pain, because when the lass ate it she stopped sobbin' immediately. Never been so relieved in my life."
Once everything was put away, Piotr guided them to the meal tent, scooping out a few bowls of venison stew for them both. "Didn't escape punishment, though. Dame Klee saw to that. That whole summer I was to work with the medicine man until I learned my lesson. I was already too scared to lay another mean hand on another living being, but I eventually found joy in ailing their woes."
Taking a sip of the broth, the medicine man eased his features into an expression of bliss. "I owe him my whole life, that Tristam Whittle."
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Hævys Bladesmith
Committed
Roleplay posts: 61
Age: Nearing her mid-30s
Appearance: She has a dark brown, bordering on black head of hair, kept short, not reaching halfway down her neck. Her skin is a darker tan-ish shade, with grey eyes. Standing around 5'10", she has a rugged frame, used to heavy labor and working in the forge. She usually wears a pair of loose fitting pants, with a snug cloth wrap covering up her chest. While in the forge, she wears a black smith's apron as well. While her pants usually covers it, there is a large indent into her skin on her thigh, as if part of the skin had been sheared off of that area, a few layers deep.
Equipment: While a smith before she got here, most of her equipment couldn't be carried during the flood. She's lucky she got out with a few forging hammers and a pair of tongs for handling hot metal, as well as her trusty pata(a type of sword-gauntlet), for if someone attempts to cross her or steal her wares.
Skills and Abilities: A skilled blacksmith, focusing on weapons and armor, with some skill also with jewelry and building materials such as hinges or nails. As well as this, she is skilled in the magics of enchanting her wares while creating them, giving enchantments of durability, of good health, or other small enchantments to make using them easier. However, she could only do this for things she was forging, not finished works, and even then she currently refuses to enchant her works. As well as this, although she currently refuses to do it as well, she can give people permanent marks on their skin, that would not wash off no matter what, and even enchant those.
Biography: A skilled smith from a young age, Hævys loved to create. She would work with her father in his forge, learning his craft, even if many others said she couldn't, or that she shouldn't and she should be proper. Naturally, Hævys wanted to prove them wrong. After learning all she could from her father, she travelled her land, looking for the best smiths to teach her what her father could not. Eventually she'd stumble on a smith who taught her many other talents, including, most importantly, the art of enchanted forging. Upon returning home and beginning her own work, she was soon summoned to the capital, to work towards making equipment for the army. Here, she would gain the epithet of Magesmith.
As well as working for the army, she would open a small business on the side, giving people permanent marks on their skin in any design they chose, a skill she picked up on her travels. However, one day she would experiment(with a willing participant) on attempting to enchant her marks. It was a success, and word soon reached the king. Immediately, she was given a new position with the prison. She would use her marking ability to give prisoners permanent enchanted marks, ones that would seal any magical ability they possessed, as well as teaching others to do the same.
However, soon, it became apparent that many of these prisoners did not deserve their punishment, nor prison time at all. Many people were sentenced to this not only for crimes, but for things outside of their control and for speaking out against the war. Hævys could not take this, speaking out against it. As a result, she was branded a criminal and given one of the marks she taught others to make, sealing her magic as she was thrown in prison.
Eventually, she would escape, and cut the mark off of her body, barely surviving with the bloodloss and possible infection. Even though she was no longer sealed, she refused to make another mark for anybody, and refused to enchant anything anymore. She refused her old epithet and became simply Hævys Bladesmith, and opening a small, struggling smithy for a short time, before the flood hit.
Registered: Apr 12, 2021 16:43:28 GMT -5
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Post by Hævys Bladesmith on Feb 25, 2023 0:35:09 GMT -5
As they walked through the camp, Hævys couldn’t help but notice the somber air. Even now it was ever-present. A sad reminder of the pain they’d all gone through. What kept her mind easy though were the beginnings of true civilization. The well, the scaffolds. Nails, she thought. That would have to be the first project. Nails, hinges, handles. The basics for a good, well made home. A look at the lumber piqued her interest even more. Beautiful pink. It would make for a great knife handle. It felt good to think of work.
Listening to Piotr’s tale, she had a tough time seeing it at first. This man, as nice as he seemed, a terror in his youth? Though, perhaps she’d seen stranger. She chuckled when he laughed, when silent as he described the girl’s fall. She understood. Even as someone who lived off of weapons of war, when her actions truly started hurting people she knew the unique horror it brought with it.
When they finally got to the tent, Hævys looked over the interior. Simple, open. Good enough. Once she had everything put away, she went with Piotr to get food, enjoying the simple stew. Venison was a new taste to her, and one she quite enjoyed.
“Good story.” She said to Piotr as he finished. “Seems like quite the man who taught you.”
She took another bite of her food as the healer praised and named his teacher. Whittle. Hævys almost choked. If it weren’t for the sheer surprise, she’d be pissed. All that searching for answers, only to start getting them the moment she tried to think about something else.
After a short fit of coughing, the blacksmith swallowed down her food, mind racing. “Quite a man.” She repeated herself, not even quite processing that she’d said it already. “Did he make it through the Deluge?” She questioned, eagerly taking the opportunity to get a lead. “Love to meet’m”
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Piotr Kemeny
New
Roleplay posts: 9
Age: 34
Appearance: Despite his very tall and hefty appearance, Piotr boasts soft facial features and a very clean, trimmed beard that is well taken care of. His hair, brown most times, blondes in the sun, and his bangs often grow over to mask his green eyes. He wears plain clothing, most made from rough linen.
_________________________________________________________
Equipment: Piotr carries a hefty leather pack that holds all the tools of an apothecary: vials and jars, a small cauldron, a mortar and pestle, scrolls of knowledge, sieves, oils, herbs- there is perhaps nothing worthy of note missing from the man's collection.
______________________________________________________
Skills and Abilities: Piotr is not a fighting man, nor is he a mage. His skill in the knowledge of medicine is all he has, along with a few other typical, rudimentary trades he picked up over the years.
_______________________________________________________
Place of Residence: Sevintera
Registered: Nov 13, 2022 0:57:09 GMT -5
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Post by Piotr Kemeny on Mar 12, 2023 21:23:48 GMT -5
If Piotr noticed Hævys' surprise, he didn't show it. Instead, he clapped the blacksmith on the back with a hefty hand until her coughing fit subsided. "Ho, there, Goodwoman. The food won't disappear as the sun comes up, you know?" With a laugh, he took a spoonful of his own, chewing slowly. He thought of her next question for a bit, then shook his head.
"I don't know where he is. He left when I was still young, just barely not yet a man. He kept talking about this woman he was going to marry! Reya... Roxa... Regina. That's it! Regina, Regina. I would hear it all day. Unfortunately, he had to move a continent over to do it. She was one of those nobles; a highborn. He would talk a lot about, ah, white hair, names beginning with an R... and her name, um- something to do with arrows? Talked about how she had this brilliant idea so they didn't have to rely on his medicines anymore to keep them afloat. Apparently... they were eloping!" His cheeks were red with laughter as he put his finger up to his lips. All too quickly, he deflated.
"I do hope he lived, but he would be a bit old by now. Maybe he had children with the mam? Maybe they found their way here. I can hope."
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Hævys Bladesmith
Committed
Roleplay posts: 61
Age: Nearing her mid-30s
Appearance: She has a dark brown, bordering on black head of hair, kept short, not reaching halfway down her neck. Her skin is a darker tan-ish shade, with grey eyes. Standing around 5'10", she has a rugged frame, used to heavy labor and working in the forge. She usually wears a pair of loose fitting pants, with a snug cloth wrap covering up her chest. While in the forge, she wears a black smith's apron as well. While her pants usually covers it, there is a large indent into her skin on her thigh, as if part of the skin had been sheared off of that area, a few layers deep.
Equipment: While a smith before she got here, most of her equipment couldn't be carried during the flood. She's lucky she got out with a few forging hammers and a pair of tongs for handling hot metal, as well as her trusty pata(a type of sword-gauntlet), for if someone attempts to cross her or steal her wares.
Skills and Abilities: A skilled blacksmith, focusing on weapons and armor, with some skill also with jewelry and building materials such as hinges or nails. As well as this, she is skilled in the magics of enchanting her wares while creating them, giving enchantments of durability, of good health, or other small enchantments to make using them easier. However, she could only do this for things she was forging, not finished works, and even then she currently refuses to enchant her works. As well as this, although she currently refuses to do it as well, she can give people permanent marks on their skin, that would not wash off no matter what, and even enchant those.
Biography: A skilled smith from a young age, Hævys loved to create. She would work with her father in his forge, learning his craft, even if many others said she couldn't, or that she shouldn't and she should be proper. Naturally, Hævys wanted to prove them wrong. After learning all she could from her father, she travelled her land, looking for the best smiths to teach her what her father could not. Eventually she'd stumble on a smith who taught her many other talents, including, most importantly, the art of enchanted forging. Upon returning home and beginning her own work, she was soon summoned to the capital, to work towards making equipment for the army. Here, she would gain the epithet of Magesmith.
As well as working for the army, she would open a small business on the side, giving people permanent marks on their skin in any design they chose, a skill she picked up on her travels. However, one day she would experiment(with a willing participant) on attempting to enchant her marks. It was a success, and word soon reached the king. Immediately, she was given a new position with the prison. She would use her marking ability to give prisoners permanent enchanted marks, ones that would seal any magical ability they possessed, as well as teaching others to do the same.
However, soon, it became apparent that many of these prisoners did not deserve their punishment, nor prison time at all. Many people were sentenced to this not only for crimes, but for things outside of their control and for speaking out against the war. Hævys could not take this, speaking out against it. As a result, she was branded a criminal and given one of the marks she taught others to make, sealing her magic as she was thrown in prison.
Eventually, she would escape, and cut the mark off of her body, barely surviving with the bloodloss and possible infection. Even though she was no longer sealed, she refused to make another mark for anybody, and refused to enchant anything anymore. She refused her old epithet and became simply Hævys Bladesmith, and opening a small, struggling smithy for a short time, before the flood hit.
Registered: Apr 12, 2021 16:43:28 GMT -5
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Post by Hævys Bladesmith on Apr 6, 2023 20:04:23 GMT -5
From stone to sand. She could feel the lead crumbling to dust, slipping through her fingers. She was so close. Piotr knew the Whittle, and there was no way Tristam wasn’t connected to the Little Whittle Witches that had given Hævys cryptic note after cryptic note. And yet, as soon as she thought she could get an answer, she was met once again with a wall.
She sighed, setting her utensil inside her bowl.. “Me too.” She said, wishing she could speak to the herbalist’s mentor herself. “Sounds like a good man. Good person to be around.” She paused, glancing over in the direction of the Correa encampment. “Times like these, we need more of those.”
Hævys looked back at Piotr, hoping to take her mind off of the cursed family once again. “What’re your thoughts on the new world so far?” She asked, looking past him at the scenery. “Lotta change, interested to hear what you gotta say about it.”
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Piotr Kemeny
New
Roleplay posts: 9
Age: 34
Appearance: Despite his very tall and hefty appearance, Piotr boasts soft facial features and a very clean, trimmed beard that is well taken care of. His hair, brown most times, blondes in the sun, and his bangs often grow over to mask his green eyes. He wears plain clothing, most made from rough linen.
_________________________________________________________
Equipment: Piotr carries a hefty leather pack that holds all the tools of an apothecary: vials and jars, a small cauldron, a mortar and pestle, scrolls of knowledge, sieves, oils, herbs- there is perhaps nothing worthy of note missing from the man's collection.
______________________________________________________
Skills and Abilities: Piotr is not a fighting man, nor is he a mage. His skill in the knowledge of medicine is all he has, along with a few other typical, rudimentary trades he picked up over the years.
_______________________________________________________
Place of Residence: Sevintera
Registered: Nov 13, 2022 0:57:09 GMT -5
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Post by Piotr Kemeny on Jul 6, 2023 23:16:46 GMT -5
Piotr nodded in agreement, at a loss for words in his grief. Though dealing with it became easier as time went on, sometimes the scars opened up, becoming a fresh wound once more. Sharing Hævys' wish to move on, the apothecary turned his thoughts to the new subject. He smiled, and announced with a great, bitter rumble: "Terrifying!"
Chuckling, he continued, "But even so, hope is abundant here. After all, if there were no new world, we would still be lost in the mists. I imagine, by now, we would all be dead. A meager blessing, but it feels as though we need to start counting them." Even so, he heaved a sigh. "I just wish I understood more about the plants here. I have so little from home to create medicine from, and I am afraid of poisoning someone if I try something new."
"What of you, Goodwoman? What do you think of the new world?"
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Hævys Bladesmith
Committed
Roleplay posts: 61
Age: Nearing her mid-30s
Appearance: She has a dark brown, bordering on black head of hair, kept short, not reaching halfway down her neck. Her skin is a darker tan-ish shade, with grey eyes. Standing around 5'10", she has a rugged frame, used to heavy labor and working in the forge. She usually wears a pair of loose fitting pants, with a snug cloth wrap covering up her chest. While in the forge, she wears a black smith's apron as well. While her pants usually covers it, there is a large indent into her skin on her thigh, as if part of the skin had been sheared off of that area, a few layers deep.
Equipment: While a smith before she got here, most of her equipment couldn't be carried during the flood. She's lucky she got out with a few forging hammers and a pair of tongs for handling hot metal, as well as her trusty pata(a type of sword-gauntlet), for if someone attempts to cross her or steal her wares.
Skills and Abilities: A skilled blacksmith, focusing on weapons and armor, with some skill also with jewelry and building materials such as hinges or nails. As well as this, she is skilled in the magics of enchanting her wares while creating them, giving enchantments of durability, of good health, or other small enchantments to make using them easier. However, she could only do this for things she was forging, not finished works, and even then she currently refuses to enchant her works. As well as this, although she currently refuses to do it as well, she can give people permanent marks on their skin, that would not wash off no matter what, and even enchant those.
Biography: A skilled smith from a young age, Hævys loved to create. She would work with her father in his forge, learning his craft, even if many others said she couldn't, or that she shouldn't and she should be proper. Naturally, Hævys wanted to prove them wrong. After learning all she could from her father, she travelled her land, looking for the best smiths to teach her what her father could not. Eventually she'd stumble on a smith who taught her many other talents, including, most importantly, the art of enchanted forging. Upon returning home and beginning her own work, she was soon summoned to the capital, to work towards making equipment for the army. Here, she would gain the epithet of Magesmith.
As well as working for the army, she would open a small business on the side, giving people permanent marks on their skin in any design they chose, a skill she picked up on her travels. However, one day she would experiment(with a willing participant) on attempting to enchant her marks. It was a success, and word soon reached the king. Immediately, she was given a new position with the prison. She would use her marking ability to give prisoners permanent enchanted marks, ones that would seal any magical ability they possessed, as well as teaching others to do the same.
However, soon, it became apparent that many of these prisoners did not deserve their punishment, nor prison time at all. Many people were sentenced to this not only for crimes, but for things outside of their control and for speaking out against the war. Hævys could not take this, speaking out against it. As a result, she was branded a criminal and given one of the marks she taught others to make, sealing her magic as she was thrown in prison.
Eventually, she would escape, and cut the mark off of her body, barely surviving with the bloodloss and possible infection. Even though she was no longer sealed, she refused to make another mark for anybody, and refused to enchant anything anymore. She refused her old epithet and became simply Hævys Bladesmith, and opening a small, struggling smithy for a short time, before the flood hit.
Registered: Apr 12, 2021 16:43:28 GMT -5
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Post by Hævys Bladesmith on Jul 8, 2023 19:23:32 GMT -5
“It’s…” She trailed off for a moment. Her time here had been plagued by mystery after mystery, questions without answers. And yet…it had a strange beauty. “...odd.” She finally finished, thinking about it. “Miss a lot of the old niceties from back home. I’m lucky, steel is steel wherever you go, but I’m struggling for tools now.” She thought back on some of her previous work, before cracking a smile. “Back home, we had this stuff, Twintail Venom. Weak as ‘ell, glass of it couldn’t give a man a stomachache. But the stuff it did to steel? Change the temp, dip the blade in for a few minutes, you could get almost any color of the gods-damned rainbow coating that thing. Looked beautiful. Shame we don’t got it here.” She shook her head. “Don’t much miss the desert, but some of the creatures had their quirks, an’ I doubt we’d find a Twintail Scorpion in a place this cold and green. But th’green’s nice, y’know? Don’t think I’ve seen this much in my life, ‘cept maybe in the Queen’s old garden, but even that was more yellow than anythin. She stopped for a moment, her smile fading. “Somethin’ ‘bout it though. Place just…doesn’t sit right. Stuff seems good but…” Her eyes glance once more towards the woods. “Can’t shake this feelin. Like a pit in my stomach.” She looked back at Piotr. “Make sense?”
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Piotr Kemeny
New
Roleplay posts: 9
Age: 34
Appearance: Despite his very tall and hefty appearance, Piotr boasts soft facial features and a very clean, trimmed beard that is well taken care of. His hair, brown most times, blondes in the sun, and his bangs often grow over to mask his green eyes. He wears plain clothing, most made from rough linen.
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Equipment: Piotr carries a hefty leather pack that holds all the tools of an apothecary: vials and jars, a small cauldron, a mortar and pestle, scrolls of knowledge, sieves, oils, herbs- there is perhaps nothing worthy of note missing from the man's collection.
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Skills and Abilities: Piotr is not a fighting man, nor is he a mage. His skill in the knowledge of medicine is all he has, along with a few other typical, rudimentary trades he picked up over the years.
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Place of Residence: Sevintera
Registered: Nov 13, 2022 0:57:09 GMT -5
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Post by Piotr Kemeny on Aug 1, 2023 17:54:00 GMT -5
A hundred lines were added to Piotr's face in the space of a second. His eyes grew tired as he looked down into his bowl. "Yes," he said, replying to Hævys' last question. "Unfortunately."
He let the silence sit between them for a moment, stirring his grain. The man had seen the eyes peeking over the sides of the tents and through the trees; someone was always listening. Usually, it was the children, but sometimes it was something else. Because of this, he could not comment further on the matter.
"Twintail Venom. You know, that feathery lady spoke about seeing a desert far, far in the distance to the south. She refused to explore it- same as you, I think? Lived there all her life, and prefers all the green now instead. Mayhaps you find something similar there. Every now and again, I'll find something that smells exactly like sage, but the leaves are all wrong. I- it's strange. I suppose we just forge forward, as our ancestors did, picking up everything they could and trying it all."
Piotr lifted his head, looking into Hævys eyes. "Perhaps figure out what's giving us this feeling and how to rid ourselves of it."
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Hævys Bladesmith
Committed
Roleplay posts: 61
Age: Nearing her mid-30s
Appearance: She has a dark brown, bordering on black head of hair, kept short, not reaching halfway down her neck. Her skin is a darker tan-ish shade, with grey eyes. Standing around 5'10", she has a rugged frame, used to heavy labor and working in the forge. She usually wears a pair of loose fitting pants, with a snug cloth wrap covering up her chest. While in the forge, she wears a black smith's apron as well. While her pants usually covers it, there is a large indent into her skin on her thigh, as if part of the skin had been sheared off of that area, a few layers deep.
Equipment: While a smith before she got here, most of her equipment couldn't be carried during the flood. She's lucky she got out with a few forging hammers and a pair of tongs for handling hot metal, as well as her trusty pata(a type of sword-gauntlet), for if someone attempts to cross her or steal her wares.
Skills and Abilities: A skilled blacksmith, focusing on weapons and armor, with some skill also with jewelry and building materials such as hinges or nails. As well as this, she is skilled in the magics of enchanting her wares while creating them, giving enchantments of durability, of good health, or other small enchantments to make using them easier. However, she could only do this for things she was forging, not finished works, and even then she currently refuses to enchant her works. As well as this, although she currently refuses to do it as well, she can give people permanent marks on their skin, that would not wash off no matter what, and even enchant those.
Biography: A skilled smith from a young age, Hævys loved to create. She would work with her father in his forge, learning his craft, even if many others said she couldn't, or that she shouldn't and she should be proper. Naturally, Hævys wanted to prove them wrong. After learning all she could from her father, she travelled her land, looking for the best smiths to teach her what her father could not. Eventually she'd stumble on a smith who taught her many other talents, including, most importantly, the art of enchanted forging. Upon returning home and beginning her own work, she was soon summoned to the capital, to work towards making equipment for the army. Here, she would gain the epithet of Magesmith.
As well as working for the army, she would open a small business on the side, giving people permanent marks on their skin in any design they chose, a skill she picked up on her travels. However, one day she would experiment(with a willing participant) on attempting to enchant her marks. It was a success, and word soon reached the king. Immediately, she was given a new position with the prison. She would use her marking ability to give prisoners permanent enchanted marks, ones that would seal any magical ability they possessed, as well as teaching others to do the same.
However, soon, it became apparent that many of these prisoners did not deserve their punishment, nor prison time at all. Many people were sentenced to this not only for crimes, but for things outside of their control and for speaking out against the war. Hævys could not take this, speaking out against it. As a result, she was branded a criminal and given one of the marks she taught others to make, sealing her magic as she was thrown in prison.
Eventually, she would escape, and cut the mark off of her body, barely surviving with the bloodloss and possible infection. Even though she was no longer sealed, she refused to make another mark for anybody, and refused to enchant anything anymore. She refused her old epithet and became simply Hævys Bladesmith, and opening a small, struggling smithy for a short time, before the flood hit.
Registered: Apr 12, 2021 16:43:28 GMT -5
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Post by Hævys Bladesmith on Aug 18, 2023 21:26:31 GMT -5
Hævys let out the slightest of laughs. “She did, did she? Guess I’ll have to find someone to check it out for me. I’d do it myself, but…” She gestured to her bad leg. “Keeps me from goin’ far. Only myself to blame though.” She lamented, giving a somber smile to the table. Even still. Gotta forge ahead. Like you said.”
Hævys looked back at Piotr, a deadly serious look in her eyes. “An’ I couldn’t agree more. Just…need to find where to start looking. Sure we’ll figure it out.”
She looked back at her bowl, taking the last few bites and savoring them. “Bad feelin’ or not though, least the food’s good.” She commented, moving her empty bowl to the side. “Can’t say I’ve ever had anythin’ like it.”
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Piotr Kemeny
New
Roleplay posts: 9
Age: 34
Appearance: Despite his very tall and hefty appearance, Piotr boasts soft facial features and a very clean, trimmed beard that is well taken care of. His hair, brown most times, blondes in the sun, and his bangs often grow over to mask his green eyes. He wears plain clothing, most made from rough linen.
_________________________________________________________
Equipment: Piotr carries a hefty leather pack that holds all the tools of an apothecary: vials and jars, a small cauldron, a mortar and pestle, scrolls of knowledge, sieves, oils, herbs- there is perhaps nothing worthy of note missing from the man's collection.
______________________________________________________
Skills and Abilities: Piotr is not a fighting man, nor is he a mage. His skill in the knowledge of medicine is all he has, along with a few other typical, rudimentary trades he picked up over the years.
_______________________________________________________
Place of Residence: Sevintera
Registered: Nov 13, 2022 0:57:09 GMT -5
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Post by Piotr Kemeny on Oct 10, 2023 15:23:11 GMT -5
"Couriers come and go. Perhaps the feathered lass will come back, perhaps another will come around, aye?" Piotr gave the bladesmith an encouraging smile. "For some things, we need to wait. For others... well, being restless during the day never seemed to hurt much. I find midday, when the mist has burned away, to be the safest. It's the best time to poke one's head in corners otherwise too dark to venture." He gave her a wink.
"The grub's made by Tai. You know him? The one usually guarding the fence during the day. Oop, there he goes-" he said, pointing to a dark-skinned man, about the same age as Hævys and Piotr, who was scrawny and lithe. His eyes twitched back and forth anxiously, as they often did if the bladesmith had observed him any other day. He was heading to the fence. "Might be time to get some sleep, since you've been working all night. Lady Correa seems to be hopeful for your for-"
"HELP!"
Piotr stood up suddenly, nearly toppling over his bowl from his lap. The cry for help came from the eastern side of the fence, right where Tai was walking. The apothecary spared but a moment to exchange glances with Hævys before running off to investigate the source of the noise.
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Hævys Bladesmith
Committed
Roleplay posts: 61
Age: Nearing her mid-30s
Appearance: She has a dark brown, bordering on black head of hair, kept short, not reaching halfway down her neck. Her skin is a darker tan-ish shade, with grey eyes. Standing around 5'10", she has a rugged frame, used to heavy labor and working in the forge. She usually wears a pair of loose fitting pants, with a snug cloth wrap covering up her chest. While in the forge, she wears a black smith's apron as well. While her pants usually covers it, there is a large indent into her skin on her thigh, as if part of the skin had been sheared off of that area, a few layers deep.
Equipment: While a smith before she got here, most of her equipment couldn't be carried during the flood. She's lucky she got out with a few forging hammers and a pair of tongs for handling hot metal, as well as her trusty pata(a type of sword-gauntlet), for if someone attempts to cross her or steal her wares.
Skills and Abilities: A skilled blacksmith, focusing on weapons and armor, with some skill also with jewelry and building materials such as hinges or nails. As well as this, she is skilled in the magics of enchanting her wares while creating them, giving enchantments of durability, of good health, or other small enchantments to make using them easier. However, she could only do this for things she was forging, not finished works, and even then she currently refuses to enchant her works. As well as this, although she currently refuses to do it as well, she can give people permanent marks on their skin, that would not wash off no matter what, and even enchant those.
Biography: A skilled smith from a young age, Hævys loved to create. She would work with her father in his forge, learning his craft, even if many others said she couldn't, or that she shouldn't and she should be proper. Naturally, Hævys wanted to prove them wrong. After learning all she could from her father, she travelled her land, looking for the best smiths to teach her what her father could not. Eventually she'd stumble on a smith who taught her many other talents, including, most importantly, the art of enchanted forging. Upon returning home and beginning her own work, she was soon summoned to the capital, to work towards making equipment for the army. Here, she would gain the epithet of Magesmith.
As well as working for the army, she would open a small business on the side, giving people permanent marks on their skin in any design they chose, a skill she picked up on her travels. However, one day she would experiment(with a willing participant) on attempting to enchant her marks. It was a success, and word soon reached the king. Immediately, she was given a new position with the prison. She would use her marking ability to give prisoners permanent enchanted marks, ones that would seal any magical ability they possessed, as well as teaching others to do the same.
However, soon, it became apparent that many of these prisoners did not deserve their punishment, nor prison time at all. Many people were sentenced to this not only for crimes, but for things outside of their control and for speaking out against the war. Hævys could not take this, speaking out against it. As a result, she was branded a criminal and given one of the marks she taught others to make, sealing her magic as she was thrown in prison.
Eventually, she would escape, and cut the mark off of her body, barely surviving with the bloodloss and possible infection. Even though she was no longer sealed, she refused to make another mark for anybody, and refused to enchant anything anymore. She refused her old epithet and became simply Hævys Bladesmith, and opening a small, struggling smithy for a short time, before the flood hit.
Registered: Apr 12, 2021 16:43:28 GMT -5
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Post by Hævys Bladesmith on Mar 30, 2024 19:31:20 GMT -5
“Heard of ‘im.” Hævys responded, her own eyes following his to look at the paranoid young man. “Think I’ve talked to’m once, even. Asked for a weapon, if I recall. Somethin’ with ‘as long a handle as you can’ ‘tween ‘him and whatever beast’s at the other end. Makes me laugh.” She stifled a yawn, only just now realizing how much the night and morning had really taken out of her. She wondered if, with all she’d learned, she’d even be able to sleep this time.
The scream cut the smith’s thoughts short, causing her to jolt up herself, almost toppling from putting too much weight onto her bad leg. She looked back at Piotr, nodding with a determined look in her eye. When he took off, Hævys followed the apothecary as fast as her wound would allow, pain painting her face as she pushed her bad leg to its limit.
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