Artan Snowmaple
New
Roleplay posts: 4
Appearance: Artan is a head taller than his twin. He had messy white hair, parted in the middle of his head and separated down the sides. His hair is of medium length, not really that long for male hair styles. He had sharp eyebrows that accentuate his narrow, discerning eyes. His pointed ears droop down, almost following the flow of his messy hair.
Both twins have heterochromia and the same eyes colors. They’re left eyes are a silver grey color, while their right eyes are a blue cyan color. His face is rather sharp and narrow.
His body is well toned and decently muscular, it is also marked with scars resembling knife or dagger wounds.
Equipment: Artan is usually seen wearing a white button-up shirt and a black hooded-jacket. He wears a red scarf that was given to him by his twin sister, Aria. He wears two large round frame glasses. He wears dark brown trousers and black boots, designed for easy mobility.
Skills and Abilities: Artan is adept with the use of a bow as well as knife combat. He keeps a dagger on his person at all times.
He is somewhat familiar with illusion magic and is able to create illusions so as long as he has prepared the stage for his illusion. This generally consists of him scouting out where he wants his illusion and preparing runes and drawn spells in the required locations, once he is ready he then activates them to create the illusion. These illusions are optical and audible, however they are not tactile. Of the twins he is the only magic user.
Biography: Both he and his twin were experimented by their parents in their past. Supposedly this was in attempt to get both him and his sister to be able to use magic. Artan was the only to ever gain any magical prowess, his sister was less lucky and lost the use of her left arm.
They escaped after Artan killed both of their parents and in their journey they were spirited away to this new place. Artan is extremely pessimistic of anyone and extremely protective of his sister.
Allegiances: As of the current; only his sister.
Registered: Mar 21, 2021 13:49:24 GMT -5
|
Post by Artan Snowmaple on Apr 4, 2021 14:11:19 GMT -5
Artan woke. His sister was holding him from drifting any further. He coughed water, while he tried to maintain a balance in these waves. It was extremely difficult, but he could manage. He knew where land was. He grabbed his sister's arm and began to pull towards the direction of land. He found it difficult to maneuver, but he would be damned before he lost his sister.
|
|
Aria Snowmaple
New
Roleplay posts: 2
Appearance: Aria is a head smaller than her brother. She has brushed white long hair, flowing down to her mid-back. Her hair is often parted down the middle like her brother’s although she does wear it in different styles from time to time. She has bolder eyebrows compared to her brother, albeit they rest relaxed.
Both twins have heterochromia and the same eyes colors. They’re left eyes are a silver grey color, while their right eyes are a blue cyan color. She has a rounder face than her brother’s often giving her a more childish appearance.
Equipment: Aria is often seen in a red knee high skirt and large tan sweater made from wooly material. The sweater has a bit of a turtle neck that helps comfort her. She wears sandals most of the time during the hot season and she wears ankle high boots for the cold season. If the heat becomes unbearable she turns to a loose fitting shirt, her brother got for her. It’s made of a thin white material with short sleeves that flow around her arms. Her left arm is always covered with a thin pink sleeve when she wears the short sleeve shirt Her left arm is a doll-like prosthetic grafted onto her shoulder as a result of the experiments her parents performed on her.
Biography: Aria was experimented by her parents in her past. Her memories from that time are short and few, but at some point her and her brother ran away. She remembers that they slept underneath a strange maple tree during winter, for some reason despite the season it bore its leaves. It was after that tree that she gave her and her brother the name 'Snowmaple'
Registered: Mar 21, 2021 18:24:54 GMT -5
|
Post by Aria Snowmaple on Apr 4, 2021 14:15:12 GMT -5
Aria felt the tug of her brother as he awoke. He coughed for a bit before pulling her arm in the direction the waves were going. She assisted him, and as the waves pushed them up, she saw it. Land. Aria did her best to make it as easy as possible for Artan to swim in this condition. She broke out a warm smile as they swam towards land, if it was the last time they had together, at least she knew that Artan wasn't alone.
The crashing waves only grew in intensity and in a single crash the twins were torn for each other into the darkness.
|
|
sheenala
New
Just arived
Roleplay posts: 9
Age: Age: 27 (apparently)
Appearance: Roughly female form, made out of bluish crystal with a blackish inner core. Her face is much more chiseled than the rest of her, providing a much more human look, with typical human features.
Equipment: A Jagged crystal dagger, with a leather sheath hung around her waist.
Skills and Abilities: Extremely hard body: As her body is made of crystal, she is difficult to damage. Something like a hammer or mace could do damage significant damage, a firearm could put small divots in her, and heavy swords and axes could possibly hack a chunk out at a cost of their age.
Harmonic resonance: Her body can amplify and return any sound at C4 in it's own ringing tone.
Biography: Sheenala doesn't remember where she was born, or how she got here. All she remembers is waking up on the bottom of the ocean with a bad headache. She has some snippets, of a massive, crystal city ringing out it's song, as well as that same city burning, but little else.
Sheenala is fairly cheery, considering what's going on. She's ready to explore the islands, find a new life, and hopefully find out a bit more of her past. She enjoys singing, her voice having an odd ringing quality, and her body adding an extra tone to her voice.
Allegiances: None
Registered: Apr 5, 2021 13:16:55 GMT -5
|
Post by sheenala on Apr 5, 2021 14:37:58 GMT -5
Sheenala shook her head as she awoke from where she had settled on the sea floor. The sunlight was barely visible above, filtering down through the water. She slowly stood up, pushing against the water until she was upright.
There was no way Sheenala was going to be able to swim up. She was too heavy for that. Looks like she'll have to try and walk her way towards the nearest land. Judging by the gentle slope of the sea floor, it was to the her north, so she started trudging in that direction. At least she didn't have to worry about drowning.
|
|
Asadrack
Dedicated
Dead inside
Roleplay posts: 283
Age: 23
Appearance: Brown eyes, meium to long black hair, full bearded, average height, old but very good maintained white shirt, black pants, black shoes
Equipment: Spear
Skills and Abilities: Proficiency with spears and other spear like weapons, pickpocketing, charisma
Biography: Born without a father and abandoned by his mother, asadrack was forced to live in the streets. He wasn't the strongest kid so he turned to pickpocketing and trucking others so he could survive, when he hit the age of 7, he was failed to steel from an old man who after seeing asadrack trying to fight his guards with a broom, using it as a makeshift spear, decided to adopt and train asadrack properly after seeing t fire in asadrack eyes. Asadrack choose the spear for his physical ability areni the best and he could keep his enemies away while he fights them, after his training he joined his adopt father, William stoneray's mercenary group, then, the most came, after losing his father when boarding a ship, after fighting t his life in the small sail boat and being thrown overboard, he washed ashore in this new wori
Registered: Apr 6, 2021 18:29:33 GMT -5
|
Post by Asadrack on Apr 6, 2021 20:26:03 GMT -5
After the initial panic with the world apparent end, he got separated from his father and their allies. After weeks drifting through a thick fog in a overcrowded small sail boat the food ended, the crew started a riot. Asadrack got stabbed in the on the belly trying to save the captain's family and was thrown overboard, after drifting in the sea for what seemed as an eternity he washed ashore somewhere in the south east of the islands and laid there unconscious
|
|
Lumme
New
Roleplay posts: 2
Appearance: Lumme is of the Mersine folk. A race in her land that sprouted randomly from plants. As such, her constitution is small and delicate. From heel to the crown of her petals, she is mere 4'6". Her skin is alabaster white with coral to reddish highlights on the edges and crevices of the head petals. Her eyes are like freshly erupted lava and their intensity depends on the way the light hits them.
Lumme always wears loose clothing be that as pants and shirts, or dresses. She also never parts with her necklace - a thin, hand-crafted golden necklace with a pendant that is a gemstone the color of her highlights set in the discreet gold plate. This pendant will occasionally glow if Lumme is experiences heightened emotions.
---------------------------------------------------------
Equipment: Lumme has an across-the-back sack that carries her clothes and a few crafting tools (mainly for woodwork, some needlework, and sewing).
She also washed on the shore with her companion Ogmath who she tenderly calls Og. Og with his black fur, slender body, and long sharp ears was called a hell dog by those who didn't know any better (https://i.pinimg.com/564x/c2/6d/a0/c26da03b5f773d9524c1bd413c41dec6.jpg). He is by a head taller than Lumme and so she is often seen to be riding on his back thanks to her lightweight. He is her protector, companion, and a ride drama king when he wants to be.
---------------------------------------------------------
Skills and Abilities: Lumme has always been a crafter. She can pick up a crafting skill with speed and ease, though refining may take time depending on the complexity of the craft. Place her in front of any material, tell her your vision, give her time, and Lumme will eventually succeed in delivering.
Despite her constitution, she can sometimes surprise with her strength which seems to be tied to the intensity of her focus.
---------------------------------------------------------
Biography: Lumme lost count of how long ago she came to consciousness. Mersine folks were born at random and without parents but that did not make them lonely. Nature was Mersine Folk's family and they relied on it for protection. They were also often seen at the company of wild animals. In their presence, even the wildest and fiercest would calm. That's how Lumme befriended Og. One day, she found him hurt, hiding under the roots of a rotting tree. He was hunted by local villagers for a string of cattle-killing and human attacks. Despite her Mersine blood, more than once Og tried to shoo her away with needlepoint teeth and sharp claws. It was her stubbornness and refusal to leave that eventually she healed him with simple herbs and patience. He never seemed to have forgotten that and followed her around until the villagers found them and together they had to run.
That's how Og and Lumme traveled their land from town to town, getting eyeballed, and at times avoided. At that point, Lumme discovered her skills for crafting and over many years built her name that at times stories about her preceded her arrival.
That was until the war broke out. No one wanted pretty stone mosaics for decorations, intricate wood carvings, or glasswork to show off. It was all weapons and as much as Lumme wanted to avoid that, her and Og's survival started depending on that. Where the Mersine folk bonded with Nature to protect its slow eradication in the name of war, Lumme put her survival first and helped to craft the weapons that killed her people and many others. It haunted her in nightmares, ate away on her happiness, nearly eradicated her relationship with Og. She turned at him with anger at times, blaming him for poisoning her with his rage and anger of all those years ago.
When the war was at its climax, the world was about to end and the mist came, Lumme was at the end of her rope. She had dug herself a hole in the ground in plans to plant herself, to disappear, and to forget.
Yet despite everything, it was Og who dug her out of the earth, carried her in his teeth weak and delirious, and snuck onto a ship that left their world behind. This time, he saved her and gave her a second chance in life. But he couldn't heal her wounds. Those were up to Lumme.
---------------------------------------------------------
Allegiances: None yet.
Registered: Apr 7, 2021 3:31:49 GMT -5
|
Post by Lumme on Apr 7, 2021 9:23:38 GMT -5
The ruckus from the upper deck reached all the way to the hold where Og and Lumme were. The light had been scarce, and its lack disorienting. Often, Lumme twisted and turned, burying into Og's fur, thinking she was still buried underground, waiting for the nothingness to take her.
Thanks to Og, she woke from the neverending cycle of hallucinations and false hopes. It was when he shifted that a strip of light brushed across the side of her face—the first light in what felt like an eternity. Her first instinct was to turn away. She wasn't meant to feel the warmth on her skin and be aware of it. She was meant to be deep underground, sprouting a plant. Alas, Og bumped his hip against which she rested, pushing Lumme into the sunshine, forcing her to open her eyes.
It took her a few moments to realize where she was and what had likely transpired. But there was no anger, no bitterness that she felt towards her companion. He seemed to have done what she had done for him countless years ago. But she was too tired to show gratitude also.
"Help me, Og," she whispered and took a fistful of his fur. Whether a call for a saviour or a plain cry for physical help, Og nudged her cheek with his wet snout before doing the best he could. He stood with care, helping Lumme to stand on her two feet. The floor swayed underneath her, and she saw the baggy clothes in which she went underground that were still soiled by the earth from back home. Nausea swept over her, but she pushed it down, and Og led her towards the stairs, holding her sack in his maw.
After stumbling and tripping upward, the two emerged onto the upper deck. In the shouts of the sailors and the captain's commands, only a few others screamed in surprise. But they did not create an upheaval otherwise. Whether these people remembered or not, Lumme did not care. Though part of her wished they didn't remember.
However, once outside, Lumme's body began soaking in the sun, starved of nutrients that came from it. Her lips were dry, and she felt it more than ever.
"Down, Og. I can't see." And her companion laid down so that Lumme climbed on top of him as one would straddle a horse. As he stood once more, she saw azure blue waters washing up against the sand and lush nature.
This can't be home. Can it? She still remembered it burning in fires caused by the weapons she helped create. And further down, another ship was moored much more skilfully than their barge which was having a hard time not to become stranded on the sand floor.
|
|
Hrukka
Committed
Roleplay posts: 79
Age: 34 years
Appearance: Large, burly and green. Nearly 7 feet tall. Wears ragged underclothes and large plate armor painted yellow. His inner self is only 7 inches tall.
Equipment: Heavy plated armor. Small bag of "snacks". Battle axe and near claymore-length sword he wields one-handed. Pocket knife (or rather, a dagger by a human's point of view) he uses for carving wood. Small wooden charm on a necklace his "Mudda" gave him.
Skills and Abilities: Skilled woodcarver and carpenter. Extremely strong for his size, as well as a high pain tolerance. (After all, his main body is fungi, with limited pain receptors.) The ability to regrow limbs of his large body after eating some of his "snacks".
Biography: A fairly simple git,(His words, not mine) Hrukka spent most of his life in his village in the outskirts of the town of..... "Grrharglakka". At the age of 21, he set out to seek his fortune, working as a combat engineer of a local warlord. He went home years later to see his ailing mother, only to find his village burned down by the very warlord he was working with. After he "krumped" the warlord, he built a rough ship, and sailed off to find his future.
Registered: Apr 8, 2021 12:29:02 GMT -5
|
Post by Hrukka on Apr 8, 2021 13:25:00 GMT -5
Hrukka looked out over the waves as he carefully steered his ship. He looked intently over the horizon, looking for a space in this zoggin' mist. To his surprise suddenly the mist cleared, revealing an island directly ahead.
"What the zog...." he muttered, before steering his ship directly towards the island. Hopefully here he could be at peace and build the home he always wanted to build.
|
|
Lexxi
Established
Roleplay posts: 23
Age: 25
Appearance: She stands at an average height of 5'4", with light brown hair that falls in curls. She peers with inquisitive green eyes. She is most certainly of noble lineage. She wears robes of green to match her eyes.
Equipment: Staff
Rucksack and camping equipment, cooking stuff, etc.
Skills and Abilities: She has no special skills to set her apart from others, only basic skills like cooking and cleaning.
Biography: She does not remember where she comes from, or what lies beyond the mist. She is about to find out.
Registered: Mar 30, 2021 21:04:57 GMT -5
|
Post by Lexxi on Apr 8, 2021 19:49:38 GMT -5
She woke up suddenly, a scream imparted from her lips. She found herself sitting up and rocking the vessel she was in. Whispers... whispers everywhere! Were those... those faces? She screamed with her hands on either side of her face. "Shut up, shut up, shut up!" But there was nothing but echoes of her own voice. She was surrounded by mist and she had no idea where she was. She looked around her and noticed that the mist parted and the sight of land greeted her eyes off in the distance. The small boat headed toward shore, the North West.
|
|
Amia Duluth
Established
Roleplay posts: 27
Age: 18
Appearance: She is tall and willowy with red hair and blue eyes. There are freckles across her face.
Skills and Abilities: She is able to sew, cook, and clean, though little good those skills would do in the new world.
Biography: Amia was born in Vessia in the old world and ran away to the Usque. She was one of few to make it out alive. The mists were traumatizing. Other than that, her past is ambiguous.
Registered: Apr 4, 2021 1:20:15 GMT -5
|
Post by Amia Duluth on Apr 8, 2021 20:03:02 GMT -5
Amia groaned. Something was wrong. She was in the bottom of what looked to be a longboat. How did she get there? She was alone, not a soul in sight... only mist... mist everywhere. She gripped the sides of the vessel for a long moment, and then she took the oars tiredly. She rowed and rowed, for how long she did not know. Her boat took her to the southeast shore of the island. She did not rejoice when there was land... She shored the longboat and stumbled forward when she could walk no more, falling to the sand with grateful motions, sighing and simply... falling back asleep.
|
|
Thuratiphel
Committed
Roleplay posts: 96
Age: Ageless (Appears late 30)
Appearance: Appearance: For the most part, he never takes his armor off. About 7 foot tall, he has a skull helmet, and pitch black armor. The armor has large curved pauldrons, and raised skeletal markings. He is usually wreathed in flames, coming from the the joints of his armor.
If you were to remove the helmet, you would see the face of a fairly regular man in his 30's. A square jaw, with short brown hair. However, if you look into his eyes, you would notice that both the iris and pupil are near black.
Equipment: Equipment: His armor. A small piece of paper attached to his armor by a wax seal, detailing his sentence and what must be done to complete it. When it is completed it will burn up and Thuratiphel's appearance will change to a more angelic form.
Skills and Abilities: Skills & Abilties: Slight premonition. Control of the flames on his body, allowing him to choose whether they harm someone or not. Limited Levitation (think like a double jump). Abnormally strong for someone his size. Skilled with his sword.
Biography: Bio: A taciturn man, Thuratiphel is a Xuel-nelga, a angelic species of extremely powerful beings. He was ordered on a mission of penance fore a crime, and was given his current more demonic form. In his travels to complete his penance, he began to travel to the mistborne isles, the mist stripping all but a few of his once immense power.
Registered: Apr 11, 2021 7:21:36 GMT -5
|
Post by Thuratiphel on Apr 11, 2021 8:43:39 GMT -5
Thuratiphel soared through the sky, carried aloft by demonic wings. He viewed the sea below him, the deep blue reflecting his form back at him. Ahead was a wall of mist, which thuratiphel flew into with no heed to it at all.
He felt an odd buzz on his skin, then suddenly he felt himself begin to descend. He looked up behind him to find that his wings were gone. He panicked for a moment, running through his various abilities attempting to find something that would keep him aloft. His levitation abilities were still there, in some limited capacity, and he was able to give himself a few bounces, before slamming into the ocean.
He nearly hit the bottom, the water around him boiling and bubbling to the top. He took a moment shake his head and orient himself. He began swimming up, breaching the surface. He saw in the distance an island, and began swimming towards it. He needed to figure out what happened.
|
|
Ranjit Sher
New
Roleplay posts: 3
Age: 30
Appearance: Standing at 6'5" on digitigrade feet, the Katuaica is an intimidating presence. Fiery orange fur covers the sleekly athletic body of Ranjit: save for the white around his muzzle and amber eyes, light orange belly, and black stripes. He has a counter balancing tail about two and a half feet in length, making it easier to perform feats of agility and acrobatics. His hands are much like a humans, save for stubbier fingers that end in claws that are wickedly sharp.
_______________
Equipment: Chainmail with a metal circular plate on the chest, a metal waistband, and smaller circular plates on the lower flanks and middle of the lower spine is his main armor, as well as a visored steel cap with leather wings that can be lowered to cover the sides of the head. Underneath he wears cotton quilted armor dyed dark grey. Outside of battle he wears a silken robe in rich turquoises and blues, embroidered with flowers and leaves.
His main weapon is a well honed khanda broadsword, blunt at the tip but sharp along the sides of the blades. For long range offense he carries a composite bow, and defense a round metal shield.
________________
Skills and Abilities: Born into a warrior caste, he was trained from cub in the martial arts of blade, bow, and hand to paw fighting. He was also versed in the art of calligraphy and painting in the pursuit of deeper meditation states. In reaching these deeper levels of serenity, he became attuned with the natural powers of the inferno, and can cast fireballs.
_________________
Biography: Born in the rapidly forgotten regions of Toragana, Ranjit was the eldest son of the warrior caste in the jungle provinces. His destiny was to become a defender of the innocent, but the rains and earthquakes saw the end of that. He managed to climb aboard one of the last dhows before the land gave way to water, and was set adrift for many hungry days and nights. In a great storm the dhow capsized and broke apart, leaving him among the only survivors on a piece of driftwood just large enough for him to sit on.
PS: He eats people.
Registered: Apr 4, 2021 11:46:12 GMT -5
|
Post by Ranjit Sher on Apr 11, 2021 12:42:38 GMT -5
"Homage to the Lord of the Universe. All this verily is Rudra. To Rudra who is such we offer our salutation. We salute again and again that Being, Rudra, who alone is the Purusha and the Soul of creatures. The material universe, the created beings, and whatever there is manifoldly and profusely created, in the past and in the present, in the form of the world—all that is indeed this Rudra. Salutations be to Rudra who is such."
For there can only be He out in these rolling waves now. There was naught but sea and sky and Him that looked down upon all. The one who had cast the spear to set the heavenly river to overflow its banks and flood the world, leaving Him alone in this existence. Though insects that had given Him praise had attempted to preserve themselves, which the infinite knowledge of Rudra had known and sent the winds to tip the last preserves of his faithful.
"With firm limbs, multiform, the strong, the tawny adorns himself with bright gold decorations: The strength of Godhead never departs from Rudra, him who is Sovereign of this world, the mighty."
The last of the last of the faithful, chanting as he had since his rearing as a cub. Throat rumbling between verses with the holy word that brought him closer to the Great Wheel of the Chariot of the Almighty Rudra. Paws outstretched in supplication, throat hoarse and dry from the severe fasting he inflicted in penance for the sins of his fathers and brothers, for the past lives he had lived, for the lives he had yet to live in the great turning of the Wheel. It was as clear as the rolling waves under this last piece of the world he knew, for how else had he deserved such punishment? The world was one, the world was together on the Chariot Wheel, and the Lord Rudra had smote it with one strike from his spear.
"We worship Tryambaka, sweet augmenter of prosperity. As from its stem a cucumber, may I be freed from the bonds of death, not reft of immortality."
His stomach rumbled, cramped from hunger of a handful of rice every few days, eaten raw for there was no water to spare or dish to cook it in. Still the austere fare was at its last, the last handful in his outstretched palm. A last offering to the Great Rudra to see him taken from the Wheel and placed beside him on the Chariot, as fire flickered out from fingers and consumed his last offering at this watery temple, tilting his palm and letting the burned grains fall into the salty abyss. It was now in Rudra's hands to see him through, if that was what the God desired.
|
|
Luci
Established
What now?
Roleplay posts: 17
Appearance: Stands at about 5', with tanned skin and black hair cut to around her jawline.
Equipment: Possesses a magical scarf. She can choose to manifest its magic within herself, altering her appearance and giving her special abilities. In her altered form the scarf itself also takes on special properties, becoming longer and able to stretch to a degree, as well as floating and becoming slightly prehensile. Additionally the magic of the scarf manifests itself in the form of a moth that accompanies her on her travels, always flitting about somewhere nearby.
Skills and Abilities: Trained as an assassin, she is skilled in stealth, evasion, and close-quarters combat, as well as gathering information and tracking down individuals in urban environments. Furthermore she's skilled in using her scarf to move around and ensnare other people.
Biography: She worked as an assassin on a different world, and now that world is gone.
Allegiances: currently none
Registered: Apr 9, 2021 16:50:13 GMT -5
|
Post by Luci on Apr 11, 2021 13:17:23 GMT -5
Luci's eyes struggled open. The tang of salty air stung at her nose, and the frigid blanket of ocean water sloshed over her, much as it had for the past several days. Only the magic of the scarf was sustaining her, clinging to the driftwood as much as her feeble arms were and staving off the hunger and the cold, but she could feel even that starting to fade.
Something... something was different now. She forced her eyes open again, squinting through the sea foam. It was... light. The mists were finally starting to lift, sunlight filtering in through the thinning curtain. With it came something else, a blurred smudge marking the way up ahead. Finally it came to focus - land.
Her eyes drifted shut again, too worn to stay open one second longer. Her thoughts fuzz, consciousness leaving her once more. A moth flutters, landing on her head, and she drifts towards the shore.
|
|
Robert
New
Roleplay posts: 6
Age: 48
-
Appearance: Robert is a lean half elf with bronzed skin and an ageless face set with ice blue eyes that faintly glow in the dark, framed with dark brown hair that is often pulled back into a pony tail.
-
Equipment: A wide variety of tools picked up over the course of a life of adventuring and being thrown into one insane, life threatening situation after another. From loot stolen from dragons and brigands to weapons forged by experts, trinkets taken from foes and given by kith and kin, and a thousand other things, he's collected a hoard of his own.
The Stained Glass Gemini - a masterpiece of magic and practical engineering who's origins are a mystery. The ship is bigger than it may first appear as there is a level below the usual bottom floor. The previous owner was a pirate lord of some notoriety that used the ship as his retirement home and eventual resting place. When Robert found the ship in it's final resting place, it had been picked clean of treasure by other scavengers but the ship had been left as none-knew how to sail her. However as he had been taught thread magic he could feel the power in the rigging and sails and, after much experimentation, learned how to manipulate and sail the wondrous ship which quickly became his nigh undiscoverable home.
-
Skills and Abilities: Just a jumbled bag of skills that he's had to pick up over time. Woodworking, blacksmithing, leatherwork, weapon and armor maintenance, sewing, weaving, general survival skills, sleight of hand, disguise, music, tattooing, painting, cooking, haggling, a bit of brewing, physical medical skills like stich work, calligraphy, alchemy, navigation, juggling, stealth (wilderness is better then urban), list continues.
Registered: Apr 10, 2021 23:21:07 GMT -5
|
Post by Robert on Apr 13, 2021 0:29:46 GMT -5
Robert had lost track of the days long before the storms had come. Long before the world had broken and some of the continents had fallen from the sky to crash into the endless seas below. Once he may have been concerned for more than himself but the world had grown dark years before the recent troubles and he cared only for himself and the young dragon on his ship.
But then the mists had come and swallowed the sky and stars, and the drifting had come. It was nothing new, but the mist had not left and land had not been found. Eventually he had thought he would have reached some edge of the new islands caused by the uncountable tons of falling earth but the oceans had been as endless as before. Now the winds were changing and still the mist hung about him like curtains of lead, making the manipulation of magic that had once been as easy as breathing as difficult as dredging anchors from the depths by hand.
Land was in sight but it was not the destruction wrought ruin he had expected. Somehow he knew that this was not his home. He was somewhere else. Casting his thoughts below deck, he worried for his companion. He knew that when they ran low on energy dragons could sleep almost indefinitely while they regained their strength, but his companion had slept for longer and longer periods before finally falling into a slumber Robert worried he may never awaken from.
His old home may not have been perfect, but this new… world was far from hospitable. Throwing his hands out wide, he dragged them back with an expenditure of will and pulled the sails closed, winding rope and cloth up as he released the anchor. It was time to stop and rest and assess the situation.
|
|
Nefero Goldenfeather
Established
Roleplay posts: 21
Appearance: "Starry-eyed Nefero" is an apt description for the young Kor'duran man, as he is awestruck by the world, which reflects back into eyes that mimic a night sky. A mop of curly black hair, the underside of which is white, sits on his head, framing a strong jaw on an otherwise youthful face. His skin is almond with an array of ivory freckles across his nose and cheeks. His massive wings alternate in a gradient of alabaster, black, and chestnut on the outside, with simple alabaster on the inside, ending in chestnut circles. His tail feathers mimic the pattern. His feet are a strange mingling, where the human half ends just before the toes, where wicked talons grow instead. Another claw grows from his heel.
__________________________________________________
Equipment: Other than his breezy breeches and thin shawl, Nefero owns a bronze khopesh, a javelin, a waterskin, and a tad bit of jewelry.
___________________________________________________
Skills and Abilities: Though he has been trained with the khopesh and the javelin all his life, never once has Nefero been in actual combat. The same can be said with his bow, though he has been known to use it for hunting on occasion. He has the same knowledge with hand-to-hand and talon-to-talon.
Registered: Apr 10, 2021 17:18:13 GMT -5
|
Post by Nefero Goldenfeather on Apr 13, 2021 1:51:22 GMT -5
How long had it been since he departed from the oasis? Since he tore away from his family in search of one stubborn, banished woman?
Had it been hours? It felt like days.
An ache hot as flame spread through his wings, which were so light at the beginning of his trip and were now made of lead. Still, he kept his wings aloft, as there was nothing to catch him below but the still, dead sea. His mind whirred with panic, yet groaned in exhaustion. So much of him was numb and yet cold and sore all at once. Keep going, he thought, willing himself forward. There has to be more than the ocean and this accursed mist!
Then, as though heard by the powers above, the mist parted, and the waters roared. His heart, which had already been fluttering from the strain, skipped a beat, then another. A piercing throb shot through his chest, reminding him that he was still alive. Reminding him that he was all but alright, even in the light of day. He prayed again, clutching his heart. Somewhere to land! I just need somewhere to land!
And, as though by the same hand, a massive wave crested and fell in his vision, revealing a brilliant vessel with dazzling sails. Without his permission, his wings began to curl inward from fatigue, and he dove towards the ship.
|
|
Elizabeth
New
Roleplay posts: 8
Age: 28
Appearance: Late twenties, with long dark brown hair and, standing at 185 cm high
Equipment: 3 small bags located on her legs containing 6 small knives, 1 right hand gantlet with bumps on the fist and some bandages
Skills and Abilities: Expert knife thrower and fighter with minor medical knowledge
Biography: Born into a rich family, Elizabeth was mistreated for not being a man, still young she fled, promising never to be treated bad anymore. By her 25th anniversary she had built a brothel and managed several working girls
Registered: Apr 13, 2021 12:20:01 GMT -5
|
Post by Elizabeth on Apr 13, 2021 16:29:13 GMT -5
It was a calm night, somewhere in a big city, a brothel was packed with people, drinking, talking and doing other things, in the back a tall man stood in front of a door
Inside the room were 4 people, 3 girls and one man, one of the girls shouted in rage at the man who's was tied to a chair, the other had one of the eyes swollen, her face filled with cuts and bruises, the third was Elizabeth, who were treating the second
"Can you calm down a bit my dear Margaret, I need to concentrate here" said Elizabeth, "i am sorry madam but..." Before the woman could finish talking Elizabeth interrupted her "I know, I know, don't worry I'll deal with that soon"
After some seconds she had finished cleaning the girls wounds and had turned her attention to the man. "So what is your name ? Actually I don't care, so don't even bother" she looked calm despite of what the man did to one of her girls. The man started cursing at them, making threats, she sighed, open one of her bags, and pulled a small metal gantlet with bumps at the fist and put it on
"So you think you can hurt my girls yes ?" She said. "I payed it" the man shouted. "Yes, but it wasn't for beating her was it" she said adjusting the gantlet on her hand. "After what I am about to do with you, I would be surprised if you could eat without help my dear "
She smiled, then she punch the man in the stomach, making him this his dinner up, then punch him in the ribs several times breaking most of them "No one hurts my girls" she whispered to him while he coughed blood. She grabbed his her and started swinging at the man's face
After five minutes or so the door opened "throw him in ditch somewhere sir, and take anything of value of of him so the guards think that thieves got to him" she said to the man guarding the door, then went to her office
She sat down, sighed then started writing a list of items they would need for the kitchen, after a feel items added to her list someone knocked on the door
"Come in please", she said, the door opened and her assistant and right hand woman came in with a bottle of wine.
"Yes, Lily, what do you need ?" Elizabeth asked. "I brought this bottle for you, I think you should relax a bit" Lily replied "I suppose a bit of wine wouldn't hurt" she grabbed a mug from under her table and lily poured it in
Elizabeth took a big and slow swig at the wine and looked at the other woman's face to see her smiling, she began to loose focus "What did... You.." was the only words she managed to say before passing out
After a long time, she woke up inside of a box, after realising the situation she shook the box from inside, it didn't seem that she was buried, she looked on her bags to see that she had her belongings with her "amateurs" she thought, picked a knife and put it between the lid and the box it self, she broke open but the knife was destroyed too, it appears she was inside of a ship, she climbed out and searched around but no one was there and the ship didn't seem to move
When she got to the top deck she saw a beach in front of her, the ocean behind and what appeared to be some sort of most. "Am I in a island ?" She thought she climbed down the side of the ship looked around, sighed and said "This is going to be a problem"
|
|
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
|
Post by Hævys Bladesmith on Apr 13, 2021 23:01:32 GMT -5
Hævys clung tight to a small piece of scrap wood, barely enough to keep most of her body above water. She gritted her teeth as winds cut into her, weakly paddling towards the distant shore she could just see through the mist and her squinted eyes. Her smith's apron would protect most of her front from the waters, however her legs were freezing as she kicked, the strange gauntlet-ended sword bouncing on her hip, clanking against the few hammers she had hanging from her belt.
She didn't know how long she had been at this. She lost track of the time soon after the water hit. She sure wasn't going to miss where she'd come from, but she was wary of wherever she was going. She let out a sharp gasp as the side of one of her legs felt a sharp pain. Damn, She thought. All this time and it still gets pains.
As the mist began to clear some more, she could see that the shore was closer than she originally expected. She expended more of her limited strength, trying to get there faster. Even if it were worse than her last home, land is better than the sea.
|
|