Yutin
Established
Roleplay posts: 26
Appearance: Short, about 3 feet tall. Yutin does not run well. He has short legs and arms. Glowing, round yellow eyes.
Equipment: Brown, large tunic that goes down to his ankles. He wears dark brown shoes and a brown cloak with a large hood. Under his hood, he wears a black full-face mask. He wields a small crossbow fitting for his size, as well as a small black, intricately carved blowgun.
Skills and Abilities: Yutin is very good with his hands. He is a proficient blacksmith and fletcher, as well as maintaining some skill in carpentry and woodworking.
Biography: Yutin is often quiet, though when he does speak it is usually something very intelligent sounding, with long words. He is a very curious being, as well as kind to an extent. He can be annoying due to his persistence and stubbornness.
Yutin managed to survive with Tana and any others with her
Registered: Mar 22, 2021 18:09:09 GMT -5
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Post by Yutin on Mar 22, 2021 18:16:38 GMT -5
Three small vessels... that was all that remained of her party. When they went through the mist, it was all they could see for a very long time. It was depressing; her people, who she could barely see through the vaporous cloud, mostly sat slumped and hungry, weary to the bone as they continued to row the best they could. There were times where she wanted to tell the small group just to stop rowing, but there had to be an end to the fog. When the day finally came that the fog parted, they all perked up and shielded their face from the sudden brightness of the sun. The sounds of gulls screaming overhead meant that land was close! She gestured to one of her people, "L-l-l... land. Soon!" There was a cry of joy from those who heard, and soon the others joined in when they realized what that meant! Tana gestured toward the east where she could barely make out the thatch of trees in the distance. They still had a long way to go in their small longboats. There were approximately twenty or so people, mostly women, who rowed their way toward Land. Yutin tipped his hat up, peering over the side of the boat. "Thank goodness." He muttered. "I was beginning to lose hope that there was any land within reach." He stood up, reaching under his facemask and rubbing his eyes as he examined the boats around them. The small craftsman sighed sadly, the loss of many of his friend's people bearing down on him. "If only more could have survived." |
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Drachen
New
Roleplay posts: 5 
Appearance: Drachen is the most imposing figure in the settlement of Cabbeling, towering head and shoulders above most of Cabbeling's already-large populace. The dull, dragonscale plate armor adds bulk to Drachen's natural size, and he is never seen without it.
Equipment: Enchanted plate armor made from dragonscale, giving it enhanced durability, lighter weight, and a near-airtight seal when the joints are properly arranged. He wields a greatsword and the Shield of Loyalty, an artifact that generates a healing substance known as Balance.
Skills and Abilities: Drachen is the foremost warrior from his own realm, capable of wielding a greatsword single-handed. He is gifted with the ability to use the magic of his home realm, but he is not skilled in the art and does not often rely on it.
Biography: Drachen was once one of six "Spirit Riders" who protected and ruled over humanity in the realm known as Valonca. When a devastating flood threatened Valonca, Drachen organized an evacuation effort to spare as many of his people from the deluge as he could. Now he and his people seek to establish a new home in the Mistborne Isles.
Registered: Mar 22, 2021 16:10:57 GMT -5
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Post by Drachen on Mar 23, 2021 19:47:06 GMT -5
A small flotilla of ships crested the last in a series of waves as they rode out of the mists. The occupants of the first ship averted their eyes from the piercing sun that greeted them for the first time in days -- all save the armored figure at the ship's bow who defiantly regarded the sun's direct light, his enchanted armor adjusting the brightness of the sun itself to allow him to gaze at it. Under his helm, Drachen smiled. His people were out of the mists, and at the edge of the sea he could make out land.
"Land ahead!" the Rider called. "Rowers, take up your oars!" Scores of hardy men obediently took to rowing. Though the sea had been calm enough to row before, the ships' occupants felt no reason to row in the mist's embrace, save to make small corrections to their drift in order to maintain formation. The exiles had no idea where they were and the mist prevented them from navigating by the stars. All they could have done, before escaping the mists, was stay together and hope that the mists cleared. Their prayers answered, the refugees could now focus their energy toward reaching shore. Drachen's people were a landlocked one, used to living on craggy mountains and desolate, rocky wastes; the sooner they got out of the water, the better.
Once the first ship ran aground just short of the beach, Drachen vaulted from the boat's prow. He turned back and placed both hands firmly on the lip of the boat's bow, mightily pulling back and slowly dragging the ship out of the water. The ship's male occupants quickly picked up on their leader's effort and disembarked to both lighten his load and assist with dragging the ship fully onto the rocky beach.
To be continued in the northwest board...
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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 23, 2021 20:41:48 GMT -5
Coming to the deck of The Depravity were more than a dozen survivors of the flood who had been snoozing below. One pair of them was a giddy young woman who was linked arm-in-arm with a gruff, unwilling participant. The ocean wind hit them in a torrent, whipping Katiana's hair around her face and landing a strand between her lips. She had to slip her fingers beneath her bangs to clear her eyes before she let a soft sigh go.
"Gods."
There it was, the line of green out in the horizon and no mist to obscure it. She let her jaw hang open for a while, just soaking in the sun and the shock before catching wind of a landing party. Her eyes grew wide as she looked up to her unfortunate surprise partner. "I bet there won't be a lot of spots left! Are you going to come or are you going to stay on this boat forever?" she chirped as she waved down the Captain to let her know she was more than willing to be a part of the landing party.
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Captain Gothmog Bloodsail
Established
Roleplay posts: 11
Appearance: Gothmog stands at an intimidating 8'2" with a weight of almost 400lbs of solid muscle. He is pierced or tattooed over nearly every inch of his green body. The tattoos depict his numerous seafaring adventures, from leviathan slaying to mermaid seduction.
Equipment: He is clothed in the uniform of an Isran ship's captain with a hint of piracy, a wicked looking cutlass and a hand crossbow on either hip. A fearsome looking harpoon is slung across his back, and a patch covers one eye. The patch is enchanted, aiding him in seeing the patterns of wind and water.
Skills and Abilities: He is a peerless sailor, and an excellent navigator, able to use landmarks, celestial bodies and time to complete navigation. He is also a fearless and ferocious fighter, his entire existence having been one long fight.
Biography: He is a heavy drinker, and a strict Captain. He cares for his men, and shows it in his actions, but not his words in typical sailor fashion. He is also daring, willing to take on any challenge with the motto: "Bigger is Better"
Registered: Mar 22, 2021 10:07:11 GMT -5
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Post by Captain Gothmog Bloodsail on Mar 23, 2021 21:34:50 GMT -5
There was a change in the wind...the smell of the sea and the feel of the ship. Gothmog noticed before anyone else on board, long years of sailing under the Isran flag had granted him an experience unmatched by the sailors in the rag-tag fleet he led.
At the head of the fleet is his flagship, the Perseverance, an Isran Ship-of-the-line in poor condition after the beating it took during the Cataclysm. She is flanked by one Frigate, the Deviance, and a Schooner, the Silverion. An empty (of griffin-mounted) Dawn Rider Carrier, now named the Refugee, which is home to what refugees the small fleet has managed to pick-up.
At the helm of Perseverance stood the large, tattooed orc, a grin slowly creeping across his face as the watchman calls out “Land Ho”. The cry spreads throughout Perseverance, a note of hope amongst the sailors who had been stuck at sea at quarter-rations for the past two months. It’s only a minute or so more before it is taken up by the other ships in the fleet. Another sight begins to take shape on the horizon, that of the Depravity...a fortuitous circumstance and one that prompts now loud cheers from the sailors.
“All ahead full! We make for the Depravity!” Gothmog yells, loud enough to be heard by the whole fleet.
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Coatl of the Imilla
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 150
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 23, 2021 21:34:55 GMT -5
Coatl sighed. "Well, I'd choose the middle ground but the only ground to speak of is off yonder, so..."
Did you just-
He jogged along to keep up with his chirpy baby sitter, and tipped his hat to the cat-eared captain. "Ma'am."
As a fairly dedicated land-lubber, it was strange to see the mother earth as a thin green line on the horizon. He remembered his, or rather, Cuate's connection with the elements, and wondered if perhaps getting back to shore would restore their strength.
I doubt it. I was intimately familiar with the power of water, and we've had no shortage of it for a while.
Maybe the different elements need the company of their kin.
You'd think I know if that was the case, silly.
Sometimes you don't know what you'd miss until it's gone. Like, y'know, dirt.
Starting to see the value of the fourth circle, are you?
Coatl smirked. She had him there.
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Centurion Analiese Hael
Established
Roleplay posts: 12 
Appearance: She is slightly above average height for a woman, about 5'10" and weighing a bit more at a 190lbs. She has medium-length platinum blonde hair, and a rather feminine face. It is the stern look in her eye that gives her face its hard edge, accompanied by the numerous bruises and scars that are a result of years of military service. Her figure is relatively slender, compacted with muscle from years of training and a strict nutrition regime.
Equipment: Ana wears the traditional armor of an Isran Centurion, complete with the red sash and the Isran sigil on her breast. The armor is fitting to what curves she does have, and, given that the Lady Naoki had a say in the armor, probably accentuates them. She wields her sword, a weapon of no particularly special properties beyond good craftsmanship and having been lovingly maintained by generations of Haels. Her legionnaire's shield completes the image of a stalwart Isran warrior.
Skills and Abilities: She is an excellent motivator and leader, years of experience dating back to being a guard sergeant in her very early twenties just by virtue of being one of the few people in the small village who could read. She is a skilled combatant, particularly when acting in concert with those she has trained against, and she is a superb teammate and subordinate officer.
Biography: She is one of the more scholarly soldiers in the Isran military, finding solace from a rather regimented and violent life in the writings of scholars and poets. She is a strict nutritionist, eating the same foods week after week, except on Wednesdays, which she reserves for trying new things. She does not take shit from anyone save a superior officer, and even then it must be justified.
Registered: Mar 22, 2021 10:12:40 GMT -5
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Post by Centurion Analiese Hael on Mar 23, 2021 21:43:43 GMT -5
Centurion Analiese Hael was tired, commanding a combination of her own cohort, Isran Marines, and a few dozen legionnaires from across the legions and across time. Some recalled heading out for Goraia when the flood hit, others described wars with powers she had never even heard of and against enemies whose descriptions defied logic. For a month and a half after being found, she had been placed in command of “security” for the small fleet by Bloodsail, but now, with the sighting of land and end to this damnable mist she could rejoice for real. And cheer, her own voice mingling in with a few hundred others at the sight of the Empress’ flagship. Which meant it was time to get everyone into shape.
Her primary duty station was on Refugee, and from here she coordinated what was left of the legions, making sure everyone looked sharp and ready to go. Nobody knew yet if the Empress still lived on Depravity, but if she did she would not find her Legionnaires looking scruffy godsdammit.
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The Chesknight
New
Roleplay posts: 6
Appearance: About three and a half feet tall, and rotund. The Chesknight never removes his armor, and has two glowing, amber eyes peeking beneath his helmet. His arms and legs are short, limiting his mobility.
Equipment: Equipped fully in a suit of curious armor seemingly made from large acorns, it holds as fast as any steel. He wears a cloak of leaves, which seems to serve no purpose and wields a sword of amber which seems to function similarly to a normal metal one. He also wears a ring, though its powers have been lost to the mists.
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Skills and Abilities: The Chesknight's strength lies in just that: His strength. Strong enough to lift several hundred pounds, and to swing his sword with violent force, he unfortunately lacks reach or speed to keep up with normal humans due to his stubby legs.
He is also a greatly talented swordsman, using his unique style to throw people off-balance. His height and speed, coupled with his enormous strength allows him to fight enemies who must struggle to compensate, and often forget that his blade alone isn't the only component in combat...
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Biography: Despite being one of the notoriously capricious fey, the Chesknight is loyal and taciturn. He's kind and generous to a fault, and finds it difficult to understand humankind. He's trusting, though determined to counter and fight his perceived evils and protect whom he perceives as innocent, typically farms or other workers of the land.
Rescued by the Depravity, he has sworn to protect those aboard to the best of his abilities. Serving as a handyman, guard, and even babysitter when the need arises.
Registered: Mar 23, 2021 21:03:12 GMT -5
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Post by The Chesknight on Mar 23, 2021 21:48:07 GMT -5
It had barely been a "week" since the Chesknight had been fished from the sea. Although, admittedly, he was suspected of being a sizable chunk of driftwood for the fire, rather than a survivor of the cataclysmic event that had sundered the world. Yet he had stood with the people of the Depravity as best he could. Protecting them, trying to keep their spirits up, whatever he could manage he was doing. And if he couldn't do them? He did his best. Often his limbs were too short to prove effective at catching or killing any fish, and his scavenging skills were hardly of use. Indeed, most of his use was in carrying cargo, and supervising where he could.
Yet now, they stood along the desk, and he hauled himself a few feet higher on the rigging to look out at what they witnessed. The green tugged his heartstrings. Land, at last! He had missed the feel of grass, the warmth of the sun. Yet he had not sensed its presence. If fact, many of his earlier tools and abilities had proven useless to him. What was this place, that it could so easily rob a fey of their powers?
He looked out over the survivors, spectating their glee and hope that had so slowly atrophied, choked as it was by the pervasive fog of this strange land. Hopping from his spot, he sought out the one in charge. He had not had much time to speak to Naoki, he had never done particularly well with authority. Yet now was a time to stand together.
"Captain!" he offered, only slightly above his normally booming speaking voice. "I volunteer to join those going ashore! I believe my experience travelling outdoors may be of some benefit. Besides-" he added, patting the rotund belly of his armor, which made a curious hollow wooden noise. "-I float!"
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Alryca Starwell
Established
Roleplay posts: 11
Appearance: She has a tall, lithe frame, if a bit better endowed than most of her elven kin. Long, platinum blonde hair streams down to nearly her waist, and her long fingers are frequently seen twirling it. Her eyes are vibrantly blue, and constantly looking about to take in new sights. She has no particular preference in clothing, dressing reasonably fashionable as far as she can afford.
Equipment: She has a wand that she carries on her person at all times, with it, she performs her magic. Sketchbooks and drawing items are held in a small satchel at her waist. She is usually wearing robes due to her position as a junior member of the Isran enclave, a position earned solely by the dearth of summoners amongst magic users.
Skills and Abilities: Alryca is a novice summoner, but she shows promise, if only her extracurricular activities would not get in the way. She can summon a wide variety of creatures, but has yet to be able to summon something she has heard of. She maintains multiple sketchbooks, as drawings the things she sees helps her to summon them later.
Biography: She has a bright, inquisitive personality that excels at learning but is fairly obnoxious in any situation that even remotely approaches being described as "serious." She loves magic and will happily talk anyone's ear off about it, and this is doubled under the effects of alcohol.
Registered: Mar 22, 2021 10:26:18 GMT -5
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Post by Alryca Starwell on Mar 23, 2021 22:21:38 GMT -5
Alryca waited belowdecks of the Refugee, locked in a tiny room that was far too cramped. She had spent the first month of the voyage trying in vain to unlock some remnant of her magic, but for naught. Whatever the hell was comprising these mists made it damn near impossible to utilize magic on board the ship. A few minor things still worked, her familiar hadn’t disappeared and she could still perform...tricks. Just thinking the word made her shudder, as if she was some two-bit magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat. The month following that she had spent utilizing her sketching skills to document their journey. While the exterior view of the mists had lost any interest after about an hour, the people on board had enjoyed her sketches, and many of them decorated the refugee deck.
It was the past few hours that had been most interesting though. She had felt the power start to rise up again, though it would take the cries of “Land” before she was able to piece together why it was happening. The power felt different though, not as readily channeled as it was before. Still, she was able to turn some of the water that constantly plagued her quarters into a very small elemental. Nothing dangerous, and it took far more of her effort than it should have...but it was a start.
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Lady Naoki
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 345
Appearance: Naoki is a curvaceous woman of average height, indeterminate age, and catlike features. Her hair is a dark auburn, often pulled back into a long braid. Her ears are both soft and fluffy, and her tail is never less than perfectly groomed.
Allegiances: New Isra
Place of Residence: Port Argentium
Registered: Mar 16, 2021 22:31:18 GMT -5
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Post by Lady Naoki on Mar 23, 2021 22:29:08 GMT -5
It had barely been a "week" since the Chesknight had been fished from the sea. Although, admittedly, he was suspected of being a sizable chunk of driftwood for the fire, rather than a survivor of the cataclysmic event that had sundered the world. Yet he had stood with the people of the Depravity as best he could. Protecting them, trying to keep their spirits up, whatever he could manage he was doing. And if he couldn't do them? He did his best. Often his limbs were too short to prove effective at catching or killing any fish, and his scavenging skills were hardly of use. Indeed, most of his use was in carrying cargo, and supervising where he could. Yet now, they stood along the desk, and he hauled himself a few feet higher on the rigging to look out at what they witnessed. The green tugged his heartstrings. Land, at last! He had missed the feel of grass, the warmth of the sun. Yet he had not sensed its presence. If fact, many of his earlier tools and abilities had proven useless to him. What was this place, that it could so easily rob a fey of their powers? He looked out over the survivors, spectating their glee and hope that had so slowly atrophied, choked as it was by the pervasive fog of this strange land. Hopping from his spot, he sought out the one in charge. He had not had much time to speak to Naoki, he had never done particularly well with authority. Yet now was a time to stand together. "Captain!" he offered, only slightly above his normally booming speaking voice. "I volunteer to join those going ashore! I believe my experience travelling outdoors may be of some benefit. Besides-" he added, patting the rotund belly of his armor, which made a curious hollow wooden noise. "-I float!" Turning away from the loading operation she had been overseeing, Captain Naoki looks... down at the lad who now addresses her. She’d seen this friend-shaped fellow popping about, hauling boxes and whatnot, and now he’d like to join the landing party? “Well… Sure, why not? You seem like you can handle yourself.” She’d like to pat him on the head, as he looks very pat-able, but that probably wouldn’t be proper behavior. Instead, she gives him a curt nod and gestures, “There’s room on boat three, you can help them load up if you like, and make sure to eat before we depart.” |
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Ji-Min
Established
Roleplay posts: 32
Age: Unknown
Appearance: As a celestial vulx, Ji-Min carries a phantasmic, eerie appearance even among her kind: hair like moonlight, a bushel of three tails, and a menagerie of tattoos that dance about her skin as though they were alive as she. She's also a head taller than other vulx, rising to be as tall as most human women. She wears a mask atop her head that will, under certain circumstances, change shape: one into a fox, the other into a human, both blank. She wears silken robes that are too large, and beneath that, a complex layering of undergarments unsuited for the isles.
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Equipment: Ji Min uses the two wakizashi painted into her skin for combat. Otherwise, she has little in the way of adventurer's tools: only a waterskin and another leather pouch for food. Around her neck, hidden beneath her collar, is a necklace wound tightly around a pearl.
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Skills and Abilities: Being the celestial yokai of winter, Ji Min has varying, if subdued, powers over the themes of frost.
Registered: Mar 22, 2021 21:27:50 GMT -5
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Post by Ji-Min on Mar 24, 2021 17:57:42 GMT -5
Hi Ko Yanu
"The Ocean Skipper"
 Smattered against the blue skies was the fan of red sails. Ribbed with full battens, they splayed against the sky like wings and carried the Hi Ko Yanu across the dead waters. The wood was polished and smelled of maple, though one could spot the wear at the sides. Such a vessel was not built for long journeys, giving its crew reason to worry. How much longer would they have to wade through this infernal mist, hoping a brighter day would come? None of the fruit could be dried and instead rotted. They saved what seeds they could, hoping to plant them if land was found, but so much went to waste. At least there were still fish, one of their last chances for food. Occasionally, a spritely young vulx who had been the first to set sail on the junk boat would see something other than a fish beneath the water. Sometimes it was a person; other times it was too big to warrant curiosity. Today, the vulx was perched at the bow, legs folded up into her chest. Her ears swiveled back and forth, searching for any sound that could mean something. Anything. Though her patience seemed endless to the other passengers aboard the ship, she was becoming antsy. Even her practiced façade was beginning to break. Her tail swished with annoyance at the restlessness gnawing at her gut. She tried to abate it by dancing on deck, but without a musician, it did little to entertain her or anyone else. So here she was sat, the little fox, coated in layers of traditional dress that wasn’t at all appropriate for traveling, but was all she was left with. The silks were far too precious and finely woven. The flood did not care that she had been in the middle of a festival. That all of them were. Heaving a sigh, she pushed those invasive thoughts out of her mind. Then, in unison with her breath, done as though by some miracle, the mists parted and a beam of light shone upon the dancer, turning her amber eyes to specks of gold. “... land?” she mumbled at first in disbelief. Then, she screamed it at the top of her lungs. “Land!” |
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Tyndall of House Lyrr
Established
Roleplay posts: 38
Appearance: Tyndall is a tanned, weathered sea elf with black hair and green eyes. He stands at 6'1" and 190lbs. He carries himself with the ease of one who has come to master all that he sets himself to, but there is a kindness deep in his eyes that only his closest friends have ever gotten a glimpse of.
Equipment: As befits his stature as a Royal of Lyrralium, Tyndall wears a very exquisite set of armor, studded leather with overlapping metal plates. A hand crossbow adorns one hip, while at the other is sheathed Eidolon, the Skybreaker. A blade whose monster-slaying deeds are second only to those of its owner. His ship is known as the Outcast, renamed by Tyndall when his family set him apart for not having the same sorcerous abilities as they.
Skills and Abilities: Tyndall is an adept bladeself, shooter, and ship captain. But above all else he is a consummate monster hunter. Exiled in all but name from participating in the usual Royal activities, he learned the art of monster and leviathan hunting from his former mentor. Dragons, krakens, vampires and more have all fallen to Tyndall and the ship(s) at his command.
Biography: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1YJxwrOyIaNWCDpXdXVmO5dPpLlgn6cSe9cd3e_msfGs/edit
Registered: Mar 22, 2021 10:29:50 GMT -5
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Post by Tyndall of House Lyrr on Mar 24, 2021 18:01:15 GMT -5
Outcast cleaved through the water alone, a lone hunter amongst an endless sea of mist. She was in nearly pristine condition, the flood that swept them away during the culling having been more of a swelling of water than anything seriously threatening to the ship. The sea in the mists had been calm, not so much as a light white cap to provide any indication that the ship was really, truly moving in any constant direction.
Her Captain lounges lazily against the railing on the aftcastle, tossing up apple cores and trying to shoot them with his hand crossbow as they hit the apex of their travel.
“Captain! Land ho!” yells the man in the crows watch. John was the man’s name, a good sailor and the best one on the ship with a spyglass. He could practically smell the land, calling it out correctly even though all they could see was this damnable fog.
The crossbow bolt ends its path with a soft plunk in the water as Tyndall misses the shot, the apple core clocking him in the face for his distraction. He shook his face and wiped off the juice, then immediately set about his crew.
“All hands on deck! Get to your stations!” He ordered, taking the helm for himself. The ship surged into motion as the crew scattered. The deck cleared of any games, tables and food being used, ballistae were manned (elfed, for the most part) and an old sea shanty of Lyrr rose up from the ship as they made their way through the edge of the mist.
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Khepri Goldenfeather
Committed
Roleplay posts: 96
Appearance: Smattered in golden feathers, Khepri glimmers from dawn to dusk. Vast, dark wings, lightening to ivory toward her spine, spread outward above her broad hips, supporting an otherwise petite frame. Black hair, straight as a waterfall, surrounds a round face. She has sharp, dangerous eyes that mimic the time of day, plump lips that tell you what you want to hear, and honey-sweet skin to ease her features. The only interruption to an otherwise heavenly visage is a pair of feet with toes and a heel ending in talons.
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Registered: Mar 23, 2021 19:54:50 GMT -5
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Post by Khepri Goldenfeather on Mar 24, 2021 18:27:52 GMT -5
Khepri's ears picked up when she heard Ji-Min's squeaking from the deck. She had comfortably sat atop the mast, legs folded and wings cradled around her. The air itself wasn't cold, but the droplets of mist that collected on her bare shoulders made even the slightest breeze feel ice cold. She lamented over the thought that she might never get to warm her feathers in the bright sun again. It had already been so long that she didn't have reason to hope. The birdwoman didn't voice this concern, of course; morale was so despairingly low already. She didn't need to beat a dead horse... or a dead crew, for that matter!
Such were the thoughts floating through her head when the vulx decided to cry out. Khepri stood up on the flat of the mast and peered down, concentrating on the fox's words. Her eyes popped wide. Certainly, she couldn't mean it? Her eyes snapped forward to verify the claim. Was it a boy crying wolf?
When the first rays hit her, she flinched, lids twitching in blindness. Her heart lept and she nearly lost her footing, but caught the wind beneath her wings and climbed into the air.
"Well, I'll be damned," she laughed as the island in the distance came into view.
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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 Mar 24, 2021 19:09:57 GMT -5
Asleep beneath the deck of the Ho Ki Yanu was the mean, green captain. Wrapped in his cape and curled into a hammock, he snoozed and dreamed pleasant things. He was running through a forest, then sitting by a fire with his troupe, laughing and ripping apart their catch. And best of all was the sun, high above their heads, beaming down-
He blinked his eyes once, twice, then nearly fell out of the hammock altogether as a raucous amount of shouting roused him. He grumbled and snorted and slugged his way out of the cabin onto the deck, where he was greeted... by the sun. High above their heads, beaming down onto his face, warming it with a heat he hadn't known for far, far too long. So overcome was he that a wave of emotion staggered through him, wetting his eyes. None of this water fell, however. No! He would not allow it. Instead, he joined the rest of the crew in celebration, which mainly meant shouting and yelping like an excited maniac. And who knows? Perhaps they were maniacs now, but they were maniacs who found land.
"Full sail ahead!" he cried to his comrades.
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Jackingson Pillberry
Established
Roleplay posts: 21
Appearance: Jackingson Pillberry is just short six feet, hanging at about 5'10. His fur is a bright white color with dashes of smooth brown laced about, particularly in the ears. His eyes are a dark red hazel. He appears to be part Lepus americanus, or as the layman would know the snowshoe hare.
His clothing is very professional. He wears a slim grey bowler hat, with a small feather of unidentified origin tucked inside. Moving downwards he possesses a black bowtie laced inside a white colored shirt. Over the shirt he wears a black vest which carries a fob watch. The watch is not ornate, and looks like it was built to be hit with a hammer and keep on ticking. It's most certainly a mix of iron and with the inner workings, copper. Black dress pants are the last article of visible clothing. The clothing appears to have minor magical properties as they clean up incredibly well for the amount of blood and dirt that end up building up from time to time. They also are incredibly sturdy and tear resistant, which is evidenced by the fact that the pockets end up with heavy metal shoved into them.
Equipment: He has a mildly magical fob watch that can be switched from compass to watch that self adjusts no matter where you end up.
He carries two brass knuckles which slip into the back of his dress clothes quite neatly.
Under his right sleeve he has a knife that will slide out of a simple mechanism on his wrist.
He also carries some sort of flask that can turn water into cider when left alone for a day.
Skills and Abilities: Jackingson is suspected to have some amount of vampire blood in his system. The following powers and abilities have been observed:
Heavily increased strength; Jackingson has been observed tossing things weighing easily weighing three times his body weight with ease. However it is noted that his emotional state is always high when such instances occur, when he's not in a high emotional state he appears to act like the above average male in this category.
High sense of smell; The overwhelming theory behind Jackingson's uncanny sense of smell is his relation to the snowshoe hare.
Advanced speed; Thankfully, he does not possess super human levels of speed, but he can move deftly fast becoming close to a blur if he gets the right velocity, which isn't hard with how fast and high he can jump.
Jackingson appears incredibly dependent on a steady diet of raw meat and blood. The exact details of such a diet has not been directly observed, but it can be assumed that without it he would not be able to match his superhuman feats.
Biography: Jackingson Pillberry was originally detected in a no name town running the local bar. It is unknown where he was before that point, and why he's suddenly relocated to the isles. It is known however that he had an accomplice of sorts, a female dullahan's head with bright red hair.
Registered: Mar 23, 2021 9:47:11 GMT -5
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Post by Jackingson Pillberry on Mar 24, 2021 20:26:05 GMT -5
Khepri's ears picked up when she heard Ji-Min's squeaking from the deck. She had comfortably sat atop the mast, legs folded and wings cradled around her. The air itself wasn't cold, but the droplets of mist that collected on her bare shoulders made even the slightest breeze feel ice cold. She lamented over the thought that she might never get to warm her feathers in the bright sun again. It had already been so long that she didn't have reason to hope. The birdwoman didn't voice this concern, of course; morale was so despairingly low already. She didn't need to beat a dead horse... or a dead crew, for that matter! Such were the thoughts floating through her head when the vulx decided to cry out. Khepri stood up on the flat of the mast and peered down, concentrating on the fox's words. Her eyes popped wide. Certainly, she couldn't mean it? Her eyes snapped forward to verify the claim. Was it a boy crying wolf? When the first rays hit her, she flinched, lids twitching in blindness. Her heart lept and she nearly lost her footing, but caught the wind beneath her wings and climbed into the air. "Well, I'll be damned," she laughed as the island in the distance came into view. Driftwood bonked up against the ship. Seemingly in the shape of a stake was floating in the mire. Attached to the water drenched wood was a fellow wearing very formal dress clothes. They were soaked with the waves of course, and a hat was somehow still affixed to his head, it was a bowler hat with a lovely ribbon that hooked under his chin. A wooden box floated next to him connected via a silver chain that looked like it was in need of a good polish. The fellow had long hare ears attached to the top of his scalp, and he was unconscious with his eyes closed. His fur was a white mixed with brown and was heavily matted with seaweed, debris, and water. His head bounced up against the back of the ship again with a dull thud. |
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Dart (Camaro)
Established
Roleplay posts: 38
Age: 25 or at least that's what it says on her documents.
Appearance: Dart is elusive as she is beautiful. Her emerald eyes shine with greed, looking to see whose pockets are most filled with jewels. Her slim appearance makes her quick to hide in and out of shadows, like a magic trick, she seems to disappear. Her pale skin reflects her love of the night.
Equipment: She hides behind black cloaks and armor, the likes of which are etched with faint white accents. She wears dark gloves that nearly reach her elbows, to better help her climb without injuring her hands. She wears sleek pants that tuck into a pair of steel-toed boots. Dart often carries a set of tools to help her pick locks and a trusty dagger. As for what else she may carry, we'll leave that a mystery for now.
Skills and Abilities: All her skills are the ones people never appreciate. She is able to get into anything, whether it's a locked house or an indestructible safe. She is very skilled at evasion and is often hidden unless she wants to be seen.
Biography: Growing up on the streets has toughened her up. She wants to believe there is good in people, but she's seen enough humanity to know that good only goes so far. People know her as Dart. Quick, resilient, and always gets the job done in one shot. Those who knew her real name all ended up in the grave. Now, what jobs you may ask? She does anything from burglary to even working as a hitman or woman for the right price.
Allegiances: Tassarion Genroris
Registered: Mar 24, 2021 15:45:23 GMT -5
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Post by Dart (Camaro) on Mar 25, 2021 0:09:20 GMT -5
Dart now she was always a flighty one. Knowing exactly when to leave when things got a little too hot for her to handle, but this time she isn't alone. She's with someone who she could only describe as a tall glass of smoking hot water and boy did it feel like she needed a drink. The two of them have been on a boat for several days and need to ration water correctly. As to where Dart procured the boat, that's sneaky Dart for you. She tried to nab the boat when the sun had dipped below the hills and the moon rose to greet the world. However, she was caught red-handed and Tassarion shook his heavy axe at the man. With shaky knees, the man told us we could have the boat. That went surprisingly well.
The two had decided to name the boat The Vixen, it is a small boat but suitable enough for the two of them. The Vixen is a fitting name and a fitting adjective to describe Dart. Tass and Dart have been together for a decent amount of time, and Dart was awful with goodbyes so she just decided to let him stay. Tass was good at making sure Dart kept out of trouble, for the most part. She enjoyed taking a peak at whats in peoples pockets, but these days she's settled into a fun game of snatching the coin bag from Tass's pocket and seeing how long it took for him to notice. Today was no different. With the skilled hands of a surgeon, she snuck her fingers into the pockets of his pants and quietly sneaked his coin bag out.
Dart didn't think she had trouble with seasickness but being on a boat this rocky for so many days makes her think otherwise. She couldn't wait for them to see land and finally have something tasty to eat and solid land beneath their feet. As if her answers have been heard, through the mist she spots it, LAND LAND LAND. Oh Glorious land. She could cry it with tears of joy but she isn't a child anymore. She stares towards the land with a smile on her face. Here's to a fresh start, maybe things can be different here.
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