Sylavan Degrusson
New
Roleplay posts: 9
Age: Appears to be in his mid-twenties
Appearance: He stands easily two heads over the average human, his torso a lean triangular shape tapering down at the waist. Despite having a skinny silhouette, Sylavan has a chiseled physique. His tail extends past his ankles and curls outwars before it would reach the ground.
Sylavan features primarily red colored scales and a dark sand tan large scale-like plates spanning across the more vunerable parts of his body, one such is the upper-central portion of his neck or the scale plates going across his chest.
Sylavan wears a dark blue open vest over his chest and slim fitting black slacks down his legs with a black leather belt and silver belt buckle. He had no shoes, and nor does he care for them often preferring the comfort of his natural soles.
He has amber-yellow eyes and a dragonic facial structure with two slightly bent horns portruding from his head. Two odd silver scales sit under his left eye.
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Equipment: Sylavan carries with himself a dark steel bastard sword, a remnant of some old forgotten battle. He was never the sword's original owner, but he found it to be quite a useful thing to have on his travels. He keeps it sheathed to his left side, in a simple tan scabbard.
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Skills and Abilities: Sylavan is no stranger to magic and once had his body extensively enchanted and altered by magical means. It's for this reason that he's even a dragonborn, despite never being born one.
Sylavan has no access to magic like he once had, but he is still very physically capable and skilled in the his swordsmanship.
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Allegiances: For the Silver Father.
Place of Residence: wherever the wind calls him.
Registered: Jul 1, 2021 17:40:22 GMT -5
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Post by Sylavan Degrusson on Nov 10, 2021 20:48:40 GMT -5
 Deep in the deserts is a vast expanse of mesas and sand dunes. To an explorer keeping your sense of direction is a must, as these dunes seem directionless and without clear markers. Its sands are dry and orange; they are hot, although during the cool nights they are freezing to the touch. Oasises and water holes, the natural gathering spots for animals, can be scattered throughout the desert. |
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Sylavan Degrusson
New
Roleplay posts: 9
Age: Appears to be in his mid-twenties
Appearance: He stands easily two heads over the average human, his torso a lean triangular shape tapering down at the waist. Despite having a skinny silhouette, Sylavan has a chiseled physique. His tail extends past his ankles and curls outwars before it would reach the ground.
Sylavan features primarily red colored scales and a dark sand tan large scale-like plates spanning across the more vunerable parts of his body, one such is the upper-central portion of his neck or the scale plates going across his chest.
Sylavan wears a dark blue open vest over his chest and slim fitting black slacks down his legs with a black leather belt and silver belt buckle. He had no shoes, and nor does he care for them often preferring the comfort of his natural soles.
He has amber-yellow eyes and a dragonic facial structure with two slightly bent horns portruding from his head. Two odd silver scales sit under his left eye.
-
Equipment: Sylavan carries with himself a dark steel bastard sword, a remnant of some old forgotten battle. He was never the sword's original owner, but he found it to be quite a useful thing to have on his travels. He keeps it sheathed to his left side, in a simple tan scabbard.
-
Skills and Abilities: Sylavan is no stranger to magic and once had his body extensively enchanted and altered by magical means. It's for this reason that he's even a dragonborn, despite never being born one.
Sylavan has no access to magic like he once had, but he is still very physically capable and skilled in the his swordsmanship.
-
Allegiances: For the Silver Father.
Place of Residence: wherever the wind calls him.
Registered: Jul 1, 2021 17:40:22 GMT -5
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Post by Sylavan Degrusson on Nov 10, 2021 21:39:34 GMT -5
The red-scaled humanoid walked forwad, his bare feet in pain from the hot sand. It had an eerily unpleasent feeling similar to that of a needle, although the number of these hot needles were many and spread out in innumerable quantities making the orange sand floor.
Sylavan took his time to a water hole, before setting himself down and sat before the waters. It lacked the growth of any oasis, as only dry shrubbery could be found as his company. The water hole, itself, was quite small, streching out a distance that Sylavan could reach within four of his strides. Nevertheless, the dragonborn would not look a gift horse in the mouth, and he took to repleanish his thirst with these lukewarm waters. It was nasty and he immediately felt the urge to spit it out from his mouth. Despite this urge, he forced himself to swallow it. The dragonborn knew that he may not find another water hole within miles of his current location... whereever he was.
Wait... Where am I?
Sylavan looked around, the geography of this desert blurred together and after a few moments, the crimson dragonborn concluded that he had lost his bearings.
Well... f*ck.
Sylavan had an idea an immediately looked for the sun. He had heard that it always rose from the east and sat in the west, so perhaps with that he would know where he was. It was directly overhead. "So... I am completely lost until sundown?... If I remember correctly, the sun was behind me when I arrived on shore... If it sets in front of me, I can use that as a reference... So I guess all I need to do is wait.."
Sylavan grumbled and laid onto the hot sands. He closed his eyes, letting his mind drift to rest.
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Kroe
Established
Roleplay posts: 21
Age: 32
Appearance: Though leaner than most of his kind, Kroe stands several inches above six feet with more than two hundred pounds to his frame. He has pale green skin and pale hair, often tied up with some twine and braided. Small tusks protrude from his lower jaw. This, together with his pointed ears and silver eyes, may tip some off about his odd heritage. He wears a menagerie of piercings, one in his brow and several many of them adorning his ears.
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Equipment: Kroe could barely save his favored scimitar after the flood, but that was all. He fished a waterlogged buckler from a bloated corpse floating by the boat. Otherwise, he has nothing but the clothes on his back.
_______________________________________________________
Skills and Abilities: Though a skilled swordsman, Kroe seems much better at ambushing and positioning. He's a bit husky to be a rogue, but the rogue life chose him, not the other way around.
He also has a peculiar gift for enchantment, though it isn't something he likes to talk about.
Registered: Mar 23, 2021 20:57:56 GMT -5
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Post by Kroe on Nov 11, 2021 1:37:26 GMT -5
How punishing the desert was, thought Kroe. But then again, when had life decided to be kind to him? Certainly not since the death of his mother, nor when he tried to find solace with the elves or the orcs. Not since the world decided to flood and sweep away everything he'd ever known. Not since he lost sight of his brother. The silver-eyed abomination could only sigh, pull up his hood, and continue through the desert in the hope of finding something worthwhile.
After only an hour of walking, Kroe found himself laden with sweat beneath the brutal sun. His thick skin was used to the cooler air of heavy forests to the far south, not the dry heat that choked his lungs and threatened to make them crack, as they had to his crusted lips. He had no oils or herbs to alleviate the pain and its causes, making it all the worse. The rogue wondered if he should turn back and make it towards the coast, where he landed. The only thing that convinced him otherwise was a spot of red in the sand.
Curious, Kroe made his way to it with a furrow of his white brows. The closer he got, the more shape it took, until it became a very clearly humanoid form. With a small gasp, he froze, but just for a moment before he started to run.
"Hey!" he cried, sprinting clumsily through the sand. "Stranger! Are you alive?!"
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Sylavan Degrusson
New
Roleplay posts: 9
Age: Appears to be in his mid-twenties
Appearance: He stands easily two heads over the average human, his torso a lean triangular shape tapering down at the waist. Despite having a skinny silhouette, Sylavan has a chiseled physique. His tail extends past his ankles and curls outwars before it would reach the ground.
Sylavan features primarily red colored scales and a dark sand tan large scale-like plates spanning across the more vunerable parts of his body, one such is the upper-central portion of his neck or the scale plates going across his chest.
Sylavan wears a dark blue open vest over his chest and slim fitting black slacks down his legs with a black leather belt and silver belt buckle. He had no shoes, and nor does he care for them often preferring the comfort of his natural soles.
He has amber-yellow eyes and a dragonic facial structure with two slightly bent horns portruding from his head. Two odd silver scales sit under his left eye.
-
Equipment: Sylavan carries with himself a dark steel bastard sword, a remnant of some old forgotten battle. He was never the sword's original owner, but he found it to be quite a useful thing to have on his travels. He keeps it sheathed to his left side, in a simple tan scabbard.
-
Skills and Abilities: Sylavan is no stranger to magic and once had his body extensively enchanted and altered by magical means. It's for this reason that he's even a dragonborn, despite never being born one.
Sylavan has no access to magic like he once had, but he is still very physically capable and skilled in the his swordsmanship.
-
Allegiances: For the Silver Father.
Place of Residence: wherever the wind calls him.
Registered: Jul 1, 2021 17:40:22 GMT -5
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Post by Sylavan Degrusson on Nov 14, 2021 17:28:28 GMT -5
I wonder what stars I'll see... Will they be the ones I remember back home? Sylavan pondered that for a moment, his eyes shut and his head cradled between his hands as he lay. He hadn't moved for a while and if memory served it had been a while, perhaps an hour. Alas, who would truly know or could truly know? Sylavan smiled at the thought of what the stars might look like, what images in the sky he would see. However, he was most excited for the sunset, as the red rays of dusk was always one of his favorite times. Its warm hues plastered the sky in varied and exotic colors, which were certainly a treat to the dragonborn, as they reminded him of a flame.
"Strangers! Are you alive?" Called from some direction in a distance. It had interrupted his head space, but the crimson dragonborn snorted before sitting up and waving his arm in a wide-arcing motion so that whoever had called him would see his motions. Sylavan reered his head until he found the half-orc. He took a breath before bellowing, "I'M QUITE ALIVE! HOW 'BOUT YOU?"
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Kroe
Established
Roleplay posts: 21
Age: 32
Appearance: Though leaner than most of his kind, Kroe stands several inches above six feet with more than two hundred pounds to his frame. He has pale green skin and pale hair, often tied up with some twine and braided. Small tusks protrude from his lower jaw. This, together with his pointed ears and silver eyes, may tip some off about his odd heritage. He wears a menagerie of piercings, one in his brow and several many of them adorning his ears.
_______________________________________________________
Equipment: Kroe could barely save his favored scimitar after the flood, but that was all. He fished a waterlogged buckler from a bloated corpse floating by the boat. Otherwise, he has nothing but the clothes on his back.
_______________________________________________________
Skills and Abilities: Though a skilled swordsman, Kroe seems much better at ambushing and positioning. He's a bit husky to be a rogue, but the rogue life chose him, not the other way around.
He also has a peculiar gift for enchantment, though it isn't something he likes to talk about.
Registered: Mar 23, 2021 20:57:56 GMT -5
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Post by Kroe on Nov 17, 2021 16:00:30 GMT -5
The green elf skidded in the sand just before meeting the red-skinned dragonborn, eyes growing wide as he did. He bent over to look the other adventurer in the face, his own framed by silver hair and a pair of pupils of the same color.
"Do I know you?" he rasped, his memory racing to catch up with him. There were many times in his childhood where he spent time with a small creature called Scarvy, and he became known as his brother. In so many ways, this person resembled him, and yet... he was different.
"I am known as Kroe. Speak your name. Do we know one another?"
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Sylavan Degrusson
New
Roleplay posts: 9
Age: Appears to be in his mid-twenties
Appearance: He stands easily two heads over the average human, his torso a lean triangular shape tapering down at the waist. Despite having a skinny silhouette, Sylavan has a chiseled physique. His tail extends past his ankles and curls outwars before it would reach the ground.
Sylavan features primarily red colored scales and a dark sand tan large scale-like plates spanning across the more vunerable parts of his body, one such is the upper-central portion of his neck or the scale plates going across his chest.
Sylavan wears a dark blue open vest over his chest and slim fitting black slacks down his legs with a black leather belt and silver belt buckle. He had no shoes, and nor does he care for them often preferring the comfort of his natural soles.
He has amber-yellow eyes and a dragonic facial structure with two slightly bent horns portruding from his head. Two odd silver scales sit under his left eye.
-
Equipment: Sylavan carries with himself a dark steel bastard sword, a remnant of some old forgotten battle. He was never the sword's original owner, but he found it to be quite a useful thing to have on his travels. He keeps it sheathed to his left side, in a simple tan scabbard.
-
Skills and Abilities: Sylavan is no stranger to magic and once had his body extensively enchanted and altered by magical means. It's for this reason that he's even a dragonborn, despite never being born one.
Sylavan has no access to magic like he once had, but he is still very physically capable and skilled in the his swordsmanship.
-
Allegiances: For the Silver Father.
Place of Residence: wherever the wind calls him.
Registered: Jul 1, 2021 17:40:22 GMT -5
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Post by Sylavan Degrusson on Nov 17, 2021 21:22:59 GMT -5
"Sylavan... I am Sylavan the son of Degrus." The dragonborn stated. "As for meeting you in some past time... I cannot say I have ever met a half-orc that looks like you... Well... I have a few times, but that child was half your height."
Sylavan stood up and grinned, "No matter! Happenstance happens!"
He brushed off the loose sand before looking at Kroe a little more closely, "That all being said you do bear a striking resemblance to him... Do you have a child? Perhaps that hald-orc I had met was your child, it would explain the uncanny resemblance you have to him."
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Kroe
Established
Roleplay posts: 21
Age: 32
Appearance: Though leaner than most of his kind, Kroe stands several inches above six feet with more than two hundred pounds to his frame. He has pale green skin and pale hair, often tied up with some twine and braided. Small tusks protrude from his lower jaw. This, together with his pointed ears and silver eyes, may tip some off about his odd heritage. He wears a menagerie of piercings, one in his brow and several many of them adorning his ears.
_______________________________________________________
Equipment: Kroe could barely save his favored scimitar after the flood, but that was all. He fished a waterlogged buckler from a bloated corpse floating by the boat. Otherwise, he has nothing but the clothes on his back.
_______________________________________________________
Skills and Abilities: Though a skilled swordsman, Kroe seems much better at ambushing and positioning. He's a bit husky to be a rogue, but the rogue life chose him, not the other way around.
He also has a peculiar gift for enchantment, though it isn't something he likes to talk about.
Registered: Mar 23, 2021 20:57:56 GMT -5
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Post by Kroe on Nov 19, 2021 23:30:32 GMT -5
"Sylavan," mumbled the orc, frowning. "No, that was not the name I was expecting." But did that mean that this was not him? This was a dragonborn. Scarvy was a... kobold? The details escaped him. He was very young at the time, and the way his mother treated them made him think they weren't any different at all.
"Me? I've sired no children," said Kroe swiftly. "I think I might be too young. It's hard to tell." There were none quite like him to ask for guidance. "Perhaps you know of my mother?"
He paused, fear gripping him. In his world, the Silver Witch was infamous for being the bringer of the apocalypse. Was it safe to utter her name? And to betray his heritage! What danger that could put him in. Something about this was curious, however. "What did he look like, this other half-orc?"
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Sylavan Degrusson
New
Roleplay posts: 9
Age: Appears to be in his mid-twenties
Appearance: He stands easily two heads over the average human, his torso a lean triangular shape tapering down at the waist. Despite having a skinny silhouette, Sylavan has a chiseled physique. His tail extends past his ankles and curls outwars before it would reach the ground.
Sylavan features primarily red colored scales and a dark sand tan large scale-like plates spanning across the more vunerable parts of his body, one such is the upper-central portion of his neck or the scale plates going across his chest.
Sylavan wears a dark blue open vest over his chest and slim fitting black slacks down his legs with a black leather belt and silver belt buckle. He had no shoes, and nor does he care for them often preferring the comfort of his natural soles.
He has amber-yellow eyes and a dragonic facial structure with two slightly bent horns portruding from his head. Two odd silver scales sit under his left eye.
-
Equipment: Sylavan carries with himself a dark steel bastard sword, a remnant of some old forgotten battle. He was never the sword's original owner, but he found it to be quite a useful thing to have on his travels. He keeps it sheathed to his left side, in a simple tan scabbard.
-
Skills and Abilities: Sylavan is no stranger to magic and once had his body extensively enchanted and altered by magical means. It's for this reason that he's even a dragonborn, despite never being born one.
Sylavan has no access to magic like he once had, but he is still very physically capable and skilled in the his swordsmanship.
-
Allegiances: For the Silver Father.
Place of Residence: wherever the wind calls him.
Registered: Jul 1, 2021 17:40:22 GMT -5
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Post by Sylavan Degrusson on Nov 20, 2021 21:36:26 GMT -5
The dragonborn nodded when he mentioned not having any children. He listened before beginning to answer his first question, before Kroe asked another question, this time about the child. Sylavan opened his mouth breathing out. With a slight wave, Sylavan brough his hand to his midsection with his palm facing down. "The child in question looked to be a younger version of you. Silver hair and the same silver eyes. Just imagine yourself younger and well obviously smaller. This was that child. Although I have not seen him for... a year or two now that I ponder on it. His mother... wasn't an orc, although with him being a half-orc that should be obvious. I've known that woman since my childhood, she was the closest thing I had to a parent after the death of my own father... As for her appearance, she had the same silver hair as her child, although I can't quite picture what her eyes looked like."
Sylavan looked to Kroe, "You said your name was... Kroe? No... it couldn't be.... Kroe how old are you?"
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Kroe
Established
Roleplay posts: 21
Age: 32
Appearance: Though leaner than most of his kind, Kroe stands several inches above six feet with more than two hundred pounds to his frame. He has pale green skin and pale hair, often tied up with some twine and braided. Small tusks protrude from his lower jaw. This, together with his pointed ears and silver eyes, may tip some off about his odd heritage. He wears a menagerie of piercings, one in his brow and several many of them adorning his ears.
_______________________________________________________
Equipment: Kroe could barely save his favored scimitar after the flood, but that was all. He fished a waterlogged buckler from a bloated corpse floating by the boat. Otherwise, he has nothing but the clothes on his back.
_______________________________________________________
Skills and Abilities: Though a skilled swordsman, Kroe seems much better at ambushing and positioning. He's a bit husky to be a rogue, but the rogue life chose him, not the other way around.
He also has a peculiar gift for enchantment, though it isn't something he likes to talk about.
Registered: Mar 23, 2021 20:57:56 GMT -5
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Post by Kroe on Nov 21, 2021 23:51:26 GMT -5
The orc's jaw hung open. His eyes narrowed and his brow wrinkled at the same time. Another half-orc with silver hair and silver eyes? With a mother with the same features? Kroe couldn't believe it. No, he didn't want to.
"More than thirty winters now, I've seen," he told the Dragonborn. "More than twenty of those winters ago I knew a small creature, a brother of mine, by the name of Scarvy. Perhaps he was your child?"
That had to be the only explanation.
"And my mother, she went by Tala."
Surely, even if he hated the Silver Witch, her shortened name would not be too suspicious.
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Sylavan Degrusson
New
Roleplay posts: 9
Age: Appears to be in his mid-twenties
Appearance: He stands easily two heads over the average human, his torso a lean triangular shape tapering down at the waist. Despite having a skinny silhouette, Sylavan has a chiseled physique. His tail extends past his ankles and curls outwars before it would reach the ground.
Sylavan features primarily red colored scales and a dark sand tan large scale-like plates spanning across the more vunerable parts of his body, one such is the upper-central portion of his neck or the scale plates going across his chest.
Sylavan wears a dark blue open vest over his chest and slim fitting black slacks down his legs with a black leather belt and silver belt buckle. He had no shoes, and nor does he care for them often preferring the comfort of his natural soles.
He has amber-yellow eyes and a dragonic facial structure with two slightly bent horns portruding from his head. Two odd silver scales sit under his left eye.
-
Equipment: Sylavan carries with himself a dark steel bastard sword, a remnant of some old forgotten battle. He was never the sword's original owner, but he found it to be quite a useful thing to have on his travels. He keeps it sheathed to his left side, in a simple tan scabbard.
-
Skills and Abilities: Sylavan is no stranger to magic and once had his body extensively enchanted and altered by magical means. It's for this reason that he's even a dragonborn, despite never being born one.
Sylavan has no access to magic like he once had, but he is still very physically capable and skilled in the his swordsmanship.
-
Allegiances: For the Silver Father.
Place of Residence: wherever the wind calls him.
Registered: Jul 1, 2021 17:40:22 GMT -5
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Post by Sylavan Degrusson on Nov 29, 2021 20:01:48 GMT -5
"And my mother, she went by Tala."
"HA HA HA HA HA HA HA!" roared the dragonborn with laughter, "AH HA HA HA HA HA HA!"
Sylavan slapped his knee and muttered aloud, "So that's how it is?" The dragonborn looked Kroe in the eyes and grinned, "I guess I should call you brother. Scarvy was the name I once used in my youth. I knew you looked all too familiar to me. I am that kobold that met your mother in that haunted manor. I understand your shock, since kobolds and dragonborns are different creatures alltogether. I changed to this form after I had discovered a certain artifact within the manon, my wish to slay the dragon that had killed my own father. Perhaps it was because all I could see slaying that dragon was a being like my father that I chnaged into this form, I still do not fully know."
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Kroe
Established
Roleplay posts: 21
Age: 32
Appearance: Though leaner than most of his kind, Kroe stands several inches above six feet with more than two hundred pounds to his frame. He has pale green skin and pale hair, often tied up with some twine and braided. Small tusks protrude from his lower jaw. This, together with his pointed ears and silver eyes, may tip some off about his odd heritage. He wears a menagerie of piercings, one in his brow and several many of them adorning his ears.
_______________________________________________________
Equipment: Kroe could barely save his favored scimitar after the flood, but that was all. He fished a waterlogged buckler from a bloated corpse floating by the boat. Otherwise, he has nothing but the clothes on his back.
_______________________________________________________
Skills and Abilities: Though a skilled swordsman, Kroe seems much better at ambushing and positioning. He's a bit husky to be a rogue, but the rogue life chose him, not the other way around.
He also has a peculiar gift for enchantment, though it isn't something he likes to talk about.
Registered: Mar 23, 2021 20:57:56 GMT -5
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Post by Kroe on Dec 5, 2021 18:35:24 GMT -5
Kroe stared at the dragonborn with wide, bewildered eyes as he laughed. It wasn't until the red lizard spoke did the half-orc's shoulders relax, the breath he'd been holding huffing out of him in a wheeze, then his own laugh.
"You are Scarvy!?" he choked, wiping his eyes to make sure they weren't deceiving him. "I do not believe it! You became this... through magic? Through a wish." He gestured to Sylavan wildly.
The story of his metamorphosis wasn't so different from Kroe's birth, to begin with. Normally, a half-orc, half-elf wouldn't have been possible in a million years. Despite this, the wish of a powerful enchantress made all things possible. "You left when I was a boy. To think that this is what happened is incredible." Then, his expression turned grim. "Mother would have been overjoyed to see you. She is not of this world anymore, though."
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Sylavan Degrusson
New
Roleplay posts: 9
Age: Appears to be in his mid-twenties
Appearance: He stands easily two heads over the average human, his torso a lean triangular shape tapering down at the waist. Despite having a skinny silhouette, Sylavan has a chiseled physique. His tail extends past his ankles and curls outwars before it would reach the ground.
Sylavan features primarily red colored scales and a dark sand tan large scale-like plates spanning across the more vunerable parts of his body, one such is the upper-central portion of his neck or the scale plates going across his chest.
Sylavan wears a dark blue open vest over his chest and slim fitting black slacks down his legs with a black leather belt and silver belt buckle. He had no shoes, and nor does he care for them often preferring the comfort of his natural soles.
He has amber-yellow eyes and a dragonic facial structure with two slightly bent horns portruding from his head. Two odd silver scales sit under his left eye.
-
Equipment: Sylavan carries with himself a dark steel bastard sword, a remnant of some old forgotten battle. He was never the sword's original owner, but he found it to be quite a useful thing to have on his travels. He keeps it sheathed to his left side, in a simple tan scabbard.
-
Skills and Abilities: Sylavan is no stranger to magic and once had his body extensively enchanted and altered by magical means. It's for this reason that he's even a dragonborn, despite never being born one.
Sylavan has no access to magic like he once had, but he is still very physically capable and skilled in the his swordsmanship.
-
Allegiances: For the Silver Father.
Place of Residence: wherever the wind calls him.
Registered: Jul 1, 2021 17:40:22 GMT -5
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Post by Sylavan Degrusson on Jan 6, 2022 13:05:38 GMT -5
Sylavan nodded, "I missed many things since my departure... I am sullen for the passing of Tala, but I am relieved to see your face again. Tala would have been proud of you, Kroe, I am sure of that."
The dragonborn reered his head to face the blue skies, "I don't suppose you have a better sense of direction than I? Before you came I was a good bit lost here. These blue skies and lackluster lacdscapes deny me any clear landmarks... Now that I think about it, this was quite similar to how I first met Tala, I was a young kobold lost in a mansion and now her son finds me lost in a desert. It is quite ironic."
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Kroe
Established
Roleplay posts: 21
Age: 32
Appearance: Though leaner than most of his kind, Kroe stands several inches above six feet with more than two hundred pounds to his frame. He has pale green skin and pale hair, often tied up with some twine and braided. Small tusks protrude from his lower jaw. This, together with his pointed ears and silver eyes, may tip some off about his odd heritage. He wears a menagerie of piercings, one in his brow and several many of them adorning his ears.
_______________________________________________________
Equipment: Kroe could barely save his favored scimitar after the flood, but that was all. He fished a waterlogged buckler from a bloated corpse floating by the boat. Otherwise, he has nothing but the clothes on his back.
_______________________________________________________
Skills and Abilities: Though a skilled swordsman, Kroe seems much better at ambushing and positioning. He's a bit husky to be a rogue, but the rogue life chose him, not the other way around.
He also has a peculiar gift for enchantment, though it isn't something he likes to talk about.
Registered: Mar 23, 2021 20:57:56 GMT -5
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Post by Kroe on Jan 8, 2022 11:06:35 GMT -5
Kroe's face twisted further for a moment before he patted Sylavan on the back. "I am not so sure of that, brother. I have not become the noble-hearted man she thought father was. All I've done, I did to survive."
Looking down towards the horizon, the rogue ruminated. "I came here from the ocean. I have a ship, but some creature breached the hull and stranded me here. I thought I saw something in the distance, but perhaps it was your horns breaching the skyline." He paused to smile at the Dragonborn. "She told me of those stories. The mansion was haunted. She was clearing it of the ghosts, and you were looking for... a staff? I do not quite remember."
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Sylavan Degrusson
New
Roleplay posts: 9
Age: Appears to be in his mid-twenties
Appearance: He stands easily two heads over the average human, his torso a lean triangular shape tapering down at the waist. Despite having a skinny silhouette, Sylavan has a chiseled physique. His tail extends past his ankles and curls outwars before it would reach the ground.
Sylavan features primarily red colored scales and a dark sand tan large scale-like plates spanning across the more vunerable parts of his body, one such is the upper-central portion of his neck or the scale plates going across his chest.
Sylavan wears a dark blue open vest over his chest and slim fitting black slacks down his legs with a black leather belt and silver belt buckle. He had no shoes, and nor does he care for them often preferring the comfort of his natural soles.
He has amber-yellow eyes and a dragonic facial structure with two slightly bent horns portruding from his head. Two odd silver scales sit under his left eye.
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Equipment: Sylavan carries with himself a dark steel bastard sword, a remnant of some old forgotten battle. He was never the sword's original owner, but he found it to be quite a useful thing to have on his travels. He keeps it sheathed to his left side, in a simple tan scabbard.
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Skills and Abilities: Sylavan is no stranger to magic and once had his body extensively enchanted and altered by magical means. It's for this reason that he's even a dragonborn, despite never being born one.
Sylavan has no access to magic like he once had, but he is still very physically capable and skilled in the his swordsmanship.
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Allegiances: For the Silver Father.
Place of Residence: wherever the wind calls him.
Registered: Jul 1, 2021 17:40:22 GMT -5
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Post by Sylavan Degrusson on Feb 4, 2022 19:14:41 GMT -5
"Take my word brother, it is better that you didn't become someone else... you can never be anyone but yourself. From what I can recollect, your mother was as much as a survivor as you... noble heart or otherwise." Sylavan eyes closed for a brief moment as a smiled, "I never had the noblest of intentions in my quest for that staff anyways. You may have taken after me in that regard, only you know."
The dragonborn looked to the skies, "You came from a sea-faring vessel? Perhaps you know the direction of the ocean then? I can use that as a guide whether I was venturing further inland or if I was wandering closer to the shore."
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Kroe
Established
Roleplay posts: 21
Age: 32
Appearance: Though leaner than most of his kind, Kroe stands several inches above six feet with more than two hundred pounds to his frame. He has pale green skin and pale hair, often tied up with some twine and braided. Small tusks protrude from his lower jaw. This, together with his pointed ears and silver eyes, may tip some off about his odd heritage. He wears a menagerie of piercings, one in his brow and several many of them adorning his ears.
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Equipment: Kroe could barely save his favored scimitar after the flood, but that was all. He fished a waterlogged buckler from a bloated corpse floating by the boat. Otherwise, he has nothing but the clothes on his back.
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Skills and Abilities: Though a skilled swordsman, Kroe seems much better at ambushing and positioning. He's a bit husky to be a rogue, but the rogue life chose him, not the other way around.
He also has a peculiar gift for enchantment, though it isn't something he likes to talk about.
Registered: Mar 23, 2021 20:57:56 GMT -5
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Post by Kroe on Feb 10, 2022 19:48:55 GMT -5
Kroe ruminated on what Sylavan said for a moment about Tala being as much as a survivor as him. At what cost? he thought, remembering how the void swallowed her whole in her deathbed. His eyes glassed over for but a moment, but they returned to the here and now, gazing at the Dragonborn. The subject was not a noble one, so he continued to speak of the boat with a weak smile.
"It is behind me. I was hoping there would be more further in, but if where I am going is where you came from, I suppose this is not the truth," he said, turning toward the tumultuous shore. "There might be a little too much waiting for us there. Did you know how dastardly these seas are, Scarvy? Ah... Sylavan." His eyes were apologetic. Piercing silver eyes set below a deep brow. Perhaps that was a trait of his father. "Come. We cannot have you fry too long in the sun, else you will find yourself feeding the wyrms."
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