Azaran the Wanderer
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 100
Age: Early 30s
Appearance: (Drawing commissioned, done by Griffith)
Azaran is roughly 5'7", with a muscular, athletic build. He has black hair, cut short to his head, along with a pair of purple eyes. His hair is usually hidden by his armored helmet, however, one with a star-esque face opening and black markings along the top of the head. He wears a purple sleeved shirt underneath a steel cuirass, with pauldrons going out over the shoulders. He wears tanned pants, as well as a pair of armored greaves.
Equipment: As well as his armor, Azaran carries with him few supplies, mainly a waterskin and a small pouch for some food and general supplies as he travels. To protect himself, however, he carries a basic heater shield and what seems to be a hook made out of black metal, sharpened to a short blade at the far end with sharp points on both ends, and a rounded point design on the back. Although it seems unassuming, it can also materialize what seems to be a translucent purple rope-like structure wrapping around the uppermost part of the hook, and extending out any length up to 20ft or so, with a barbed hook at the end. The rope seems extremely hard to break, and the hook seems to be sharp as a blade.
Skills and Abilities: Despite his hesitance to use it, Azaran is very skilled at fighting, and due to the copious amount of time he spends out in the wilderness he is an excellent survivalist, knowing how to spend weeks at a time on his own on travels between civilizations.
Biography: Growing up, Azaran Ðyáhmo lived in the lap of luxury, sheltered from the harsh realities of the rest of his people in the archipelago. His parents, Duke and Duchess of the region, kept him away from seeing that. However, as time went on, his curiosity got the better of him. One night, while his family was sleeping, he snuck out of the palace, to see the world outside. To his dismay, the people were struggling. His parents focused more on their party lives that the lives of the people they were supposed to serve. Disease ran rampant, people were starving in the streets, and bandits robbed in broad daylight. When he returned to his home in the early hours in the morning, he vowed to make his world a better place, one person at a time. He forsook his parents' name, and stole their most precious heirloom, the God Hook Déshimoh, whisking it away in the dead of night to wander the countryside, never staying in one place long, passing along the good fortunes of comradery to his people. Even after the flood destroyed everything, though, he didn't give up, and he plans to spread the same word around this world as well.
Registered: Apr 13, 2021 17:52:55 GMT -5
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Post by Azaran the Wanderer on Apr 13, 2021 23:26:01 GMT -5
Azaran stood there, looking up at the pedestal on which the family heirloom was sat. His eyes looked upon the hook, and yet they were not focused. His mind was elsewhere.
His mind was on the city below, one he finally got to explore, to see for himself. It was a wreck of breaking buildings and cracked roads, of homeless people and robbers, of filth and disease. He saw so many struggling. And yet, just a simple glance up the hill would put the palace into his view. The luxurious marble building, casting sun back down at the city almost blindingly. His home, overlooking the people.
His mind snapped back to the trophy room, as he notices the feel of cold metal in his hand. While he was lost in thought he grabbed it, taking it right off the pedestal. He breathes in, and lets out a sigh. There was no turning back once he left this room. He wouldn't be able to return to the comfort of living like a royal. He wouldn't be able to come back to the family that, while highly misguided, loved him with all their hearts.
But that didn't matter to him. What mattered was all those, struggling below. Those who needed a good person to help them. And that was him. Even if he had to do it one person at a time he would improve the lives of the people below. He would be the hand that helped prop them back up. He left the room, then the building, then the palace grounds. This was a new life he had chosen for himself. The life of a wanderer.
Azaran snapped awake. Saltwater scent filled his nose, a little bit splashing over the side of his rowboat. He sat up, ready to see another day of nothing but sea. He checked his waterskin, only to see that very little was left. If he didn't find land and fresh water soon, he was going to go even more painfully that those that didn't make it out. He sighs, as he starts rowing, hoping beyond hope that today would be the day.
And that's when he sees it, ahead of him. it starts out fuzzy beyond the mist, and it slowly but steadily draws a cleaner, clearer outline. There it was: land. He begins rowing faster, eager to reach dry land, and to see what kind of place he had ended up.
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Ms. Tilly Vanderbilt
Established
Roleplay posts: 37
Age: now now, it's rude to ask a woman her age
Appearance: From her flaming locks to her sultry hazel eyes, Miss Vanderbilt is an extraordinary woman. She is of average height at about 5'5 and weighs about, oh that's a secret. The boys usually have a bad habit of looking at something other than her eyes. Her body is well maintained and often compared to that of a dancer.
Equipment: She wears black sleek clothing that hugs her curves and a pair of long gloves to avoid touching things with her bare hands. Tilly is the type of person who enjoys adding a little bit of color to her outfits. Her favorite piece of clothing is always the fur shawl she wears if the day isn't too humid. Along her hip sits a rapier finely polished and ready to pierce whatever is in range.
Skills and Abilities: Tilly comes from a family of merit and from that family learned to efficiently use her rapier. Her rapier a gift from her late father just before his passing. She hones her abilities of agility and elegance similar to a rose. People see her beauty but not the thorns that will prick their skin. It's not their fault there, Tilly can be quite the sweet talker and often talks her way out of tight corners.
Biography: Matilda Vanderbilt born into a wealthy merchant family is now off on her own. She dreams of one day owning a boat with her own crew. The wind in the hair, the smell of salt in her nostrils, and the freedom of adventure. She was never meant to have a desk job and sit around all day. Tilly currently is in the business of handling other people's money. She dreams often about the sound of coins clanking together and hoping one day those will be her coins.
Registered: Mar 24, 2021 15:54:47 GMT -5
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Post by Ms. Tilly Vanderbilt on Apr 14, 2021 22:23:29 GMT -5
Miss Tilly Vanderbilt always enjoyed walking along the docks eyeing the vessels that would come in and out of port. She was thankful her office sat on the docks. Her office was a tedious desk job helping advise people how to use their coins. Some people just don't know how to stop spending money. There has been talk about a few ships setting sail to a new area of the world. A never before explored place.
Ever since she heard the news Tilly had been packing knowing one day she'll be able to live life on the open seas. Her family scowled at her when she left to pursue this funny dream, bag in hand and a bodacious smile from cheek to cheek. She found a menial desk job all about money. Tilly was good with money, she had a knack for it, but desk jobs she did not have a knack for. What kept her sane through it all was knowing one day she'll be able to fulfill her dream of being the captain of her own ship. She read legends of fearless women running their own ships and making a name for themselves.
Today is the day she gets to embark on her voyage. She looked at herself in the mirror, her bouncy red hair falling gently down her back, her curls framing her fair-skinned face. A few freckles dot across the bridge of her nose, this she thought was quite cute. The bright red hair and green eyes sure made her stand out in a crowd but her face is usually not the first thing men see. She has been given a pair of gifts that seems to draw the attention of men. Tilly hated when they stared at her assets rather than her eyes. She can already smell the saltiness of the sea and the cold spray of the waves. She could hear the seagull gawking about and the sailors shuffling about. Who knows what the new land will have in store for her. With a bag in hand, she rushed down the steps of her house and towards the soon to depart ship. Bon voyage.
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Venus
Established
Roleplay posts: 38 
Age: Seemingly mid 20s
Appearance: Beautiful and stunning, Venus has long black hair and piercing green eyes. She has full lips, porcelain skin and a shapely figure.
Equipment: Venus has a gemstone ring that shines a bright green. The ring helps her channel her magic. She also has a pendant that does similar things, and has a few enchantments placed upon it.
Biography: Venus' past is about as enigmatic as the woman herself. She's been seen in the higher echelons of Isra's society, consorting with the High Adviser and Empress Naoki in the past. She's been found in ancient tablets of long gone empires. She's been seen lurking within the Black Vale, and many other nations before the Flood.
Registered: Apr 15, 2021 14:33:33 GMT -5
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Post by Venus on Apr 15, 2021 15:32:13 GMT -5
Waves crash against the hull of the ship, and Venus sighed. Her ship was neither large nor grand, but it did a suitable job. "Once again, forced to flee the comforts of my citadel at the behest of those arrogant prats." She muttered, walking down into the cabin. There was a small group on the ship, but it was enough that Venus rarely felt lonely. "Selene," she greeted cordially to the pale haired woman.
"Venus," she greeted back. "How are you doing today?"
"Eh," she shrugged. "I am bored of this voyage. The coordinates to Isra simply led to.. Water. What exactly happened? We haven't seen land in weeks." She pushed her hair back. "And this stupid ring just keeps pointing this way," she pointed towards the front of the ship, the gemstone on her ring pulsing in brief intervals.
"I'm.. Not entirely sure.. It's hard to remember. It was a flood.. A devastating flood. It was as if the world itself decided to betray it's tenants. I just remember that I stored all of my items within a magical dimension, and I floated.. For days? I'm not sure. Then you found me."
"Indeed I did. You and that St. Cross brat," she sneered.
"Lucifer isn't so bad." Selene responded, frowning.
"He's good in bed. That's about it." Venus retorted dryly.
"Captain! Captain!" Another voice shouted eagerly, as a gangly, bespectacled ginger came running in. "Captain! We have found land! We have found land!"
"Land?" Venus echoed, surprised. Others in the cabin started murmuring, and there was a growing clamor. Everyone raced up to the deck. "Behold, my lovely crew, I have found us our new home." She smiled prettily at the crew. All in all, there was about twenty one or twenty two of them, but in the past few weeks, Venus almost felt as if they were.. Family. It wasn't something she was used to, growing attached to people. Especially not of the sort that were aboard the Temptation. What was once a lovely escort ship had been repurposed as a savior of the seas. As the ship made landfall, Venus called Selene over to her.
"I have no intention of continuing this motley crew we've assembled." Venus declared.
"I would imagine as much," Selene responded smoothly.
"However, should you seek to take my place, you have my blessing."
"A blessing, or a curse?" Selene sneered, baring the scar upon her clavicle. "You branded me like cattle."
"You are overdramatic, Selene. It is my personal sigil. You are mine, yes, but I am not an overseer. You are free to do as you please, until I have need of you, or you come into conflict with my desires. I am leaving at dusk, and you are to take over."
"As you wish, Lady Venus."
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Sor Deh Kafsune
New
Roleplay posts: 4
Registered: Apr 15, 2021 12:57:47 GMT -5
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Post by Sor Deh Kafsune on Apr 15, 2021 17:23:35 GMT -5
The soft pittering of dripping water was accompanied by a gnawing chill...
The young As'Deen stood dumbfounded. Where had that wall of water come from?
Her ice blue eyes focused , she was standing in front of an iron gate, a man waited on a stool lazily , his spear dangling in his fingers. Emptiness surrounded them , yet this place seemed familiar all the same.
"Well met" the man spoke, it sounded like he was smiling behind his scarf covered face. He was As'Deen, the bronze colored skin crawling with talnish carvings made that plain as day.
"W..." The woman tried to speak , water instead erputed from her throat... " Well met" she manage to choke out. " Forgive me brother, the water." She started to explain , the man simply held his hand to stop her.
" An abrupt end. "He explained. " I saw that you died with grace. Tell me your story Sor, third spear maiden of the house of Deh. " The gate keeper requested.
A lump formed in Sor's throat as her situation became clear to her, she grinned laughing nervously. This was Amon, die farshaw... the first and last scout to die.
"Very well Amon,"She steadied her self thinking off all the deeds and events of her life wondering what sort of reaction shed get from the man... if you couldn't deliver your promise to Amon, you were barred from the path...
" you will smirk, and laugh." She started , taking a seat at his feet. " and even weep mournful tears that my story ended."
The gate keeper inclined his head a bit , amused. " Bold."
" The all mother favors the bold." She replied.
He smiled. " Go on , tell your tale."
Sor began her story , with her birth. The tattoos bearing her mother and fathers name faded from her skin, appearing on the wall on the other side of Amon, each deed and pivotal moment in her life had been carved into her skin for this very moment... Each part she covered , the flesh carving faded from her skin, added to the wall.
Hours passed, the wall began to fill, As promised Amon laughed and smiled , even commented a few times where he'd been impressed by a trick she had played. It was like talking to an old friend.
" And so. Mara and I greased the lines , so that when Erso tried to swing across he slipped and fell into a pile of-- "
Amon held a hand up, looking off into the distance squinting. " Sor, beloved sister of mine... there are still many pages in your book."
The sound of crashing waves cut through the silence...
"You have much yet to write beloved sister... Return to me when your story is truly finished."
A cold chill rolled over Sor , she was unable to speak.
" Die with grace sister." He waved and the world went black.
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Sor's eyes opened, her body screamed with the protest of life as she lay tossed along the shore like a childs doll...
The desert heat was no where to be found... the dry air replaced by a steady wet breeze and gentle warmth...
Where was she?
She sat up, her hand still clutching her spear. The wave had crashed all around her... Amon... had it been a dream?
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Dawn Riversong
Established
Roleplay posts: 17
Appearance: A bit on the short side, with a thin, lanky build. Round amber eyes, round face, dark brown hair cut to rest about mid-way down her neck. Tends to wear simple and well-fitting clothes: knee-high leather boots, riding breeches, a simple blouse, and a hooded cloak, all in earthy browns and tans.
Equipment: An enchanted compass worn on a strap around her neck, a travel bag containing several tubes for storing rolls of parchment, bottles of ink, wooden quills, and a spyglass.
Skills and Abilities: Dawn has a natural knack for directions, as well as night vision and a fine sense of hearing. She is skilled in navigation and cartography.
Biography: Dawn was named after the time of day she was born, and grew up among her people in the forests to the West. She enjoyed exploring the woods, and as time went on came to tagging along with guides as they lead merchants and travelers around the region. Soon she came to being a guide herself, travelling north and south among the forest to see as much as she could. However, even the wide breadth of her homeland couldn't satiate her wanderlust, and she soon made the uncommon decision to depart and explore the lands to the East. As a parting gift her father bestowed upon her an enchanted compass, an old family heirloom none had seen a use for before then. She wandered nearby lands for years after that, drawing up maps of everywhere she went.
Registered: Apr 14, 2021 19:02:12 GMT -5
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Post by Dawn Riversong on Apr 18, 2021 16:24:05 GMT -5
Dawn flopped back on the deck, ready to sleep for a week. She was no stranger to hard work, but this had truly been a test of her limits. Everyone was expected to pull their weight on the ship, given how few people had made it. Keeping everything in shape, day in and day out, barely getting a full night's sleep before getting right back to it...
Not to mention that she couldn't even tell if day and night existed anymore. The mists were everywhere, hour after hour, no end in sight. It was starting to all feel like a haze.
She sits up, shaking her head. No, there would be an end to this. There had to be something out there. They'd find it, she just had to keep her morale up. That's what mother would have wanted. Just find the light through the trees, Dawn.
She stands, stretching her sore muscles. A break would do her good. She wanders across the deck, finding where she had stashed her canteen. She takes a long drink, enjoying every second of it. See, now wasn't that better. She makes her way up to the mast, craning her neck to see where their lookout perched way up top.
"Hey, you want some water?"
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Mariah Scarlett
New
Roleplay posts: 5
Appearance: Tall and lean, built like an athlete with dark skin and eyes. Straight black hair that she wears in a long ponytail.
Equipment: A pair of golden bracelets infused with magic. She can manifest the magic within herself, temporarily altering her appearance and increasing her physical abilities. Furthermore, the bracelets transform into a pair of bladed chakrams, which return to her when thrown. The magic of the bracelets also manifest in the form of a butterfly that accompanies her on her journeys.
Skills and Abilities: A trained assassin, she's experienced in close quarters combat, keeping track of targets in urban environments, and extracting information from willing and unwilling targets.
Biography: For many years Mars worked as an assassin and bounty hunter, killing at the discretion of others. The flood may have washed away her old hunting grounds, but people always need an assassin, do they not?
Allegiances: Herself and her clients
Registered: Apr 14, 2021 18:33:29 GMT -5
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Post by Mariah Scarlett on Apr 18, 2021 16:51:24 GMT -5
Dawn flopped back on the deck, ready to sleep for a week. She was no stranger to hard work, but this had truly been a test of her limits. Everyone was expected to pull their weight on the ship, given how few people had made it. Keeping everything in shape, day in and day out, barely getting a full night's sleep before getting right back to it... Not to mention that she couldn't even tell if day and night existed anymore. The mists were everywhere, hour after hour, no end in sight. It was starting to all feel like a haze. She sits up, shaking her head. No, there would be an end to this. There had to be something out there. They'd find it, she just had to keep her morale up. That's what mother would have wanted. Just find the light through the trees, Dawn. She stands, stretching her sore muscles. A break would do her good. She wanders across the deck, finding where she had stashed her canteen. She takes a long drink, enjoying every second of it. See, now wasn't that better. She makes her way up to the mast, craning her neck to see where their lookout perched way up top. "Hey, you want some water?" Mariah Scarlett looks down at the wood sprite below, her thoughts drawn away from the mists around her. "Yeah, pass it up!" She catches the canteen, waving her thanks as the other woman wanders off. She takes a swig, her thoughts returning to the mists. They had been going for days now, and she could feel her magic fading the whole time. The bracelets were starting to feel muffled, as if someone had thrown a lamp-shade over their power. It probably had something to do with the mists. Would it come back when the mists faded? Or was she stuck like this? Only time would tell. To make matters worse, she couldn't even test how limited she was, not in close contact with so many people. Hanging out in the crow's nest was a much-needed reprieve, time to let the mask down and relax. For someone who had spent her whole life in the city, she was surprised how introverted she could be. Her musings are disturbed by a change around her. It takes her a moment to identify it: sunlight. Sunlight filtering through the mists. She scrambles to her feet, leaning so far over the railing that she has to reach back and curl one arm around the mast. A breathless smile comes to her face, eyes wide in anticipation of what might appear through the thinning mists. Finally, out in the distance, she sees it: "LAND HO! LAAAAAAAAAAND HO!" |
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Eric
Committed
Roleplay posts: 55
Age: 20
Appearance: Smaller than the average man, he has a very smooth skin and a somewhat fragile look, white shirt, leather gloves, black pants and boots
Equipment: Two curved daggers and small bottle with poison
Skills and Abilities: Incredibly agile and strong, expert climber and deadly with his daggers
Biography: Not much is known about Eric, no one is even sure if that's his name. Two things are certain, he was working in a big trading ship named Hades and he had befriended a wolf at some point and he called him Snow
Registered: Apr 19, 2021 20:07:23 GMT -5
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Post by Eric on Apr 19, 2021 21:13:42 GMT -5
Only the waves and heavy breathing could be heard from the ship, Eric knew that ship well, Hades was a trading ship with three sails and two decks, he had been working for almost a year in this ship, now, he was fleeing on it.
On the top deck only the sounds of the waves and heavy breathing could be heard, the bodies of most of the crew was on the floor, laying on pools of blood. Eric, the captain, and two more men was still standing
"Why ?" Said Eric, to the captain, "I know that you have been planning to kill me Eric, I know." The captain responded, him and the other two man had madness in their eyes and Eric had noticed.
Eric lowdly whistled and charged forward, in the captain direction, and when he got close and the captain got ready to parry Eric's daggers, the young man quickly changed direction and stabbed the man in the left in the throat.
The captain raised his sword to strike Eric in the back but a large, white wolf came out of those the deck below and bit the captain's arm and threw him on the ground while Eric rushed to the other man, dodged his sword and put one dagger through his eyes and the other through his chest
A whimper was heard, Eric changed his attention to the wolf and the captain, "Snow !" Eric shouted and rushed the captain who could only defend from Eric's daggers, until one of the attacks landed one the captain's wrist, sending his hand and sword to the ocean
Eric knocked out the captain with a punch but the captain managed to send one of the daggers to the waters below before that, Eric than made sure that both the wolf and the captain wasn't going to bleed out
After some moments the captain woke up, he was tied to one of the sails, he looked up and saw Eric petting the wolf "Now captain, I'm going to make you wish you never had born, I would've just killed ya" he said calmly, then proceeded to shout "but you had to stab my fucking wolf !"
He gently place the wolf's head on the floor, it was still alive but badly hurt, Eric got up and when the captain tried to open his mouth, Eric put his boot though it, breaking most of the captain's teeth "Hush now, this is going to take a while, and you're only allowed to scream". And scream he did, for hours Eric tortured the captain, making sure the only thing that would kill him was the pain
The ship finally hit a beach somewhere, Eric had tears on his eyes "it's okay Snow, I'll carry you, we'll find someone that can help, so please, please hold on"
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Red Woodburo
Dedicated
Married with Tanneth
Roleplay posts: 142
Age: 19
Appearance: Red hair, blue eyes and a big fluffy red tail, standing at 149 cm tall
Equipment: A ornate quiver with a red fox carved into it, a longbow and three small knives hiding behind the quiver
Skills and Abilities: An amazing shot with a bow and arrow, Red is also very nimble and fast and a really good climber, stealth
Biography: It was the dead of night, Red was sitting outside of a cave, inside more of her kind were sleeping, the dawn was coming and they would often hunt during the night, Red was still very young and knew nothing of the outside world
As she looked up to the sky she heard a weird noise coming from the trees ahead, she quickly went inside in a attempt to hide. She was curious, what could've been that noise ? Where did it came from ?
She dipped her head out the cave, looked around, her ears shifted as she was trying her best to hear any other noises, she heard a animal squeal, maybe a rabbit ?
She followed the sound to find a small rabbit stucked on a trap, almost dead, she circled the animal on all fours, sniffing it and the trap, she stopped, and tried messing with the trap, maybe she could open it and have a free rabbit for herself
The rabbit had stopped moving but Red wasn't even close to open the trap, that's when she heard the sound of a stick breaking, she turned her head and her eyes met with the eyes of a human, she froze for a second, he had a bow in one shoulder and an axe in the other.
She looked at him with her eyes wide open, that was her first time seeing a human, the man stepped forward, she stopped back
"It's okay, said the man, I'm not going to hurt you," said the man, stepping forward one more time
She was curious about the man but also cautious, the man slowly put his items on the ground and said "are you lost ?"
At first he didn't notice the tail or the ears, walking one more step forward and with the light slowly getting more brighter with a new day coming he realised she wasn't a human child but a vulx
"Are you..." Before he could complete his words Red took off running, the man stopped for a second, thought to himself, then quickly picked up his stuff and chased the girl
"Hey, wait, don't go that way, it's dangerous," he shouted as he ran after her
Red was running in a completely different direction than the cave she was outside of, she was fast, and the man couldn't keep up, but she fell as the same time as a clanking sound could been heard, with no clue to what just happened she looked ate her leg
She had been caught in a trap much similar to the one with the rabbit, the trap had metal bits that would quickly snap together much like a bear trap but it was smaller, although it didn't broke any of her bones, the trap still hurt a lot and she let out a sharp cry of pain
The man found her quickly, he approached her saying in a gentle voice "it's okay little one, i'm going to help you okay"
As he reached for the trap, Red scratched the man's arm, in response he tried to calm her down, and slowly reached for the trap again
"I can get you out of there, I'm going to help you" he said pressing on a small lever on the side of the trap and pulling it open
She quickly tried to get away but couldn't , the man slowly approached her speaking in a calm voice "if you let me carry you, I'll bring you to my cabin and I will heal you." He patted her on the head and them took her with him, once on the cabin he took a look at her ankle "you won be able to move for a while, but i'll take care of you." He pointed at himself "Anderson." He did that a couple of times then pointed at her but she didn't knew how to talk "well, i'll just call you Red then"
For the next few weeks he would treat her, feed her and make sure she was worm. Her, in the other hand seemed to mimick him and was learning fast but still wasn't able to talk.
Everything stayed the same for a while, there wasn't much for her to do but Anderson tried his best to teach her words and even showed her his books but with no success, he told her stories and shared his experiences, but after some time she was healed and he decided to take her back
Anderson was visibly upset about that, it was he's dream to have a family but wasn't able to have kids but the forest was her home. He took her to the spot where she found her, this time she came walking on both feet
"As promised, now that you're better I brought you home," he said
"N n n no" she said
"You can speak ?" He's eyes shot open
She pointed at herself and continued "o o o out a sider."
Although she was born with the others, she never felt like she belonged, there was some much to be learned and she had grown attached to the man
"Wa wan want s stay An Anderson"
Registered: May 4, 2021 2:32:34 GMT -5
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Post by Red Woodburo on May 9, 2021 21:39:06 GMT -5
Red was sitting in a chair, reading books about herbs and plants, Anderson was cooking a meal for them.
"how are you liking the new book I got you Red?" The man asked
"It's pretty interesting, did you know some plants eat flies and other insects," she said happily wagging her tail from side to side
"You know, ever since you became my daughter, you have always been excited to learn, specially when it comes to that bow." The man pointed to a bow in the corner of the room
It was a long bow, it hade a snake carved into it that went from the tip and went around it, the head had it's mouth open and a string was inside the opening, the other end was a double tail with the other end of the string on it
"Of course !" She said with hee head tilted, "You're a great teacher, and a great father too"
The man smiled "yeah I am," he said proudly "tomorrow will be the last lesson on both hunting and shooting a bow, so don't fuck it up or we won't have dinner"
"Sure thing boss"
The night went by, the dawn was near, they were awake and ready. Red had an advantage when hunting, her nose was good, even better than most of her kind.
Now inside the woods that surrounded their cabin Anderson kneeled beside animal tracks and said "So, Red, what animal are these from ?"
She put her hands on her hips, tilted her head amd gave it a good look "hmm, perhaps a boar, big one !"
"Correct ! Follow it !"
Red looked at Anderson with a smile, and started walking confidently, trying to get the animal's scent.
Few minutes passed and she was close, both heard a squeal, it was definitely a bore, it was definitely big with a scar on the side
Red ready up her bow and took a shot, she hit the animal but it didn't die, instead of running away, the animal turned to their direction and started running
Red froze for a second, she wasn't expecting for it to stack but before it hit her Anderson pushes Red out of the way an the boar fangs penetrate the man's leg. Red once more pulled the string on her bow and fires another arrow, this time killing the animal
"Father !" Red yelled out, the man was losing blood fast and they were far from civilization
"Calm down, Red, just help me bandage this up, the blood will stop okay." He ripped his shirt off and Red put it tight on the wound but the man didn't stopped bleeding, the boar had hit an main artery
Red helped him out of the ground and to walk to the cabin but he was a big man and she couldn't do much
Anderson couldn't walk anymore and asked to be put down
"Red" he said, "I need you to be brave ok"
"Shut up, shut. up. You will get through this old man," red interrupted
"Now listen to your father, I lost too much blood, there's anything else you can do, except for promising me you'll be happy"
"I'll promise you that if you promise to hang on okay," but nothing happened, no response, "Dad ?"
He was dead, Red cried for hours, she buried his body next to their house and left
Two years later, everything was spinning, she was dehydrated from all the puking, the sea was calm and her row boat went up and down with the small waves, she thought of her father's last words
"How am I supposed to be happy if the fishes I caught can't stay on my stomach ? Is this some kind of punishment ? Have the human gods decided that I should suffer ? Why do I have to be stuck to the rocking machine they call boat ?"
She stood up shouting to the sky and noticed something, the most was clearing up and more importantly there was land
Red's eyes shot wide open her tail stood up and she shouted out, as louder as she could "FINALLY !"
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Ananias
Established
Roleplay posts: 10
Age: Late 30s/Early 40s
Appearance: Ananias is a Half-Human, Half-Elf who stands at approximately 5'10. His hair is a mix of dark brown and gray with a moderately sized beard that has not be afflicted by greying. Hazel eyes accent his pale skin.
Equipment: Dagger, handaxe, crossbow, dark brown leather armor, camping supplies, fishing supplies, pirogue
Skills and Abilities: Wilderness survival, thievery, diplomacy
Place of Residence: The Swamps
Registered: May 14, 2021 18:09:35 GMT -5
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Post by Ananias on May 14, 2021 20:18:05 GMT -5
Thuuuump.
Ananias inadvertently loosened the tension on the mainsheet controlling the sail as he looked over to see what struck the bottom of the pirogue's hull. "It better not be another damn shark," he sighed as he examined the dark water. He knew it wasn't another shark, of course, as it was more of a scrape than the hard strike of a bullshark. He had been fighting off bullsharks for who knows how many weeks.
The waters were still rising when the half-elf had left Arvamoor in the small, wooden boat. Tholian, his business associate for the better part of the last five years, had helped him set the lone sail. They had used some drifting cypress logs and rope to fashion an upper and lower boom to affix the sail to and an old rudder that had been removed from a capsized boat. From thereon they sailed blindly into a wall of mist. The push pole, a twenty foot pool with a bifurcated end used to push the pirogue along, was useless in the deep waters they now traveled.
They had kept their optimism in the days following their departure from Arvamoor, as Ananias was sure that a landmass known as Raaflheim was only four days away at their speed. But Raalfheim never came and the smuggler had begun to doubt his seamanship. After a few more days of sailing aimlessly, he realized that two people would burn through the remaining rations of dried swamp rabbit, dried alligator tail, and water within a couple weeks.
That very night, Tholian had awoken to a the point of a dagger piercing his throat. Ananias stripped him and tossed him overboard. That's when the sharks came. They're constant pestering, trying to tip the boat for another taste of half-elf flesh, was initially a curse. However, as the rations were depleted, they became a blessing. He had tied his dagger to the end of the push pole and as a seven footer went to bump the boat, he jabbed the makeshift spear down and quickly brought it up again and over into the boat lest the shark wriggle itself free in its death throes. Ananias's hunger made the strong taste of urine in the raw shark tolerable.
"Well, would you look at that."
The boat had struck the limb of a submerged tree. He could faintly make out the muddy bottom. Doubting his state of mind and whether what he was experiencing was even real, he squinted trying to peer through the wall of mist. He let go of the mainsheet and the sail flapped aimlessly in the weak wind as a current pulled the push boat forward.
Eventually, the outline of a mangrove shoreline came into view as the mist began to clear. "WOOHOOO!" he screamed as he reached down for his push pole, the dagger still tied off to the rounded end. He inserted the bifurcated end into the water and hit bottom at approximately twelve feet.
Then, as quickly as the mist was disappearing, came a darker fog in front of him. "Son of a-" but he could not finish as a cloud of mosquitoes swarmed all around him, feasting on his dehydrated body. He grabbed the clothes he had stripped off of his friend and tried to wrap every inch of exposed skin in fabric. It worked, somewhat, since mosquito snouts still penetrated his clothing where it was pulled tight, such as around the tops of his shoulders.
He did not mind now. After all, he had finally found land. |
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Grimm Giantsbane
New
Roleplay posts: 7
Age: Mid-60s in Dwarven years.
Appearance: Grimm is four feet tall with a leathery, worn face. Salt and pepper hair and a long, typically braided, beard. He has a slight limp when he walks. His arms and hands are tattooed with various Dwarven runes.
Allegiances: The Orcjaw Clan
Registered: May 15, 2021 17:29:49 GMT -5
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Post by Grimm Giantsbane on May 15, 2021 19:37:42 GMT -5
Cheers rang out as the longship Riddarhawk finally penetrated the wall of mist. Grimm had been pouring an ale for an offduty crew member on the makeshift bar in the stern when he looked up to see four other longships bearing the Orcjaw Clan's sigil on their sails: a black five-pointed crown above left-facing black jawbone containing five razor sharp teeth, the first of which is the longest by almost double the rest, set on a green field. Beyond the ships, there was land! A dingy from the flagship, Mineweaver, was on its way to the Riddarhawk. Three dwarves were aboard the dingy, King Durathorn Orcjaw's Standard Bearer Grotho stood proud on the bow while the others paddled. A rope ladder was dropped and Captain Olor greeted him. "Welcome aboard, Grotho. What command does our King bring?" greeted the ship captain with a nervous smile. "Our crew's spirits have been lifted, we never doubted that the King would lead us to dry land!" Grotho had a reputation for being smug, the position of King's Standard Bearer going to his head. Grimm could not help but crack as smile and mutter to himself "Ogre's arse" as Grotho ignored Captain Olor's pleasantries. "Before us are two settlements on either side of a strait. It is the King's command that we sail through the strait to the inland sea and maintain a course of Northeast. There seems to be no danger, yet, but the crew is to stay on alert for battle." Then Grotho raised his eyebrows and scowled, "the fog appears to be over with, so the King expects the Riddarhawk to keep up this time." It was apparent to Grimm that one of the boats had made some sort of contact the settlements already. "Aye," was Captain Olor's response. The captain's annoyance as Grotho's misreable personality, even in light of the elation of finding dry land, was easily discerned as he turned to attend to some other matter. Grotho was soon off the deck and back on his dingy. The Riddarhawk was not only the oldest of the fleet, but it also carried the most cargo. Grimm did not doubt that this ship would fail to keep pace, mist or no mist. "Comeon boys, a round of drinks on the house!" Grimm cheered, a roar amongst the whole crew erupted as they made their way to the bar. In the infectious joy that spread through the ship, many broke into song: What do you do with a drunken dwarf?
What do you do with a drunken dwarf?
What do you do with a drunken dwarf?
Early in the morning
way hey, up he rises,
way hey, up he rises,
way hey, up he rises,
Early in the morning
Put him in the longship till he's sober
Put him in the longship till he's sober
Put him in the longship till he's sober
Early in the morning
way hey, up he rises,
way hey, up he rises,
way hey, up he rises,
Early in the morning
Shave his belly with a goblin's razor
Shave his belly with a goblin's razor
Shave his belly with a goblin's razor
Early in the morning |
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Axainne Snowfeather
Established
Roleplay posts: 17
Age: 24
Appearance: She is a delicate looking creature with hair of mottled silver, frosty blue eyes. She is a tall lithe form with long legs. Feathers appear to be in both her hair and wings, mottled white that span six feet across. Her feet are a mix between that of a snowy owl's and a human. Clothing is usually the gauzy silks of the nymphs
Equipment: ------
Enchanted spear
Light armor
Camping gear that includes cooking stuff and grappling stuff
Wooden flute
Skills and Abilities: Singing
Flying
Playing instruments
Biography: She only knows the Usque and the people there. When the great flood happened, her whole world crumbled beneath her almost literally. How long had she flown through the mist?
Axainne was raised by nymphs, an abandoned or lost child (they do not know) who had to watch birds to learn how to fly, otherwise her beautiful wings would be useless...
Registered: May 3, 2021 17:15:26 GMT -5
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Post by Axainne Snowfeather on May 17, 2021 18:34:48 GMT -5
So very tired… She didn’t think she had slept in some time. How long? The mist would not afford her that knowledge; it was cruel and unyielding around her… It had swallowed her whole, it was chewing her up and tossing her to and fro like it played a game… or did it? Was she just flying in place above a mist covered sea.
Her eyes blurred, or did they? Or… wait………. Was that a face she detected, leering at her, laughing silently before rushing toward her. “AHHHHH!” She gave a cry, and she was knocked backward by her own movements. It lunged again, it’s great maw opening wide and looming. She swore she heard the sound of it growling just before it came rushing toward her!
Axianne felt herself go backwards even more, even, perhaps, flipping around, for that was what it felt like. A free fall into the light. Light? By all the saints! Light! Tears filled her eyes as she blinked against the intensity of the blazing sun. She saw the sky, and the water, and tears fell gratefully that the mist had finally spit her out.
With a renewed sense of energy, perhaps adrenaline rushing through her, she mustered the strength to keep flying. She could see land off in the distance, and her grateful mind went into a peaceful lull.
Trinity Island, not that she knew the name of this island, was the direction the duralam found herself flying. Her flight wasn’t even marked by a whisper on the wind.
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Jun of the Celadine
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 292
Age: 33
Appearance: Jun stands at about 5’ 4”, with a willowy, slightly rectangular build. Her tawny olive skin has lost its flush from constantly wearing cloth armor, and she is dotted with small scars, including wrinkled patches of old burns on her left arm. She has deep brown, slightly hooded eyes and not quite straight dark auburn hair. Her face is still youthful and strong, though her gaze suggests she’s seen way too much for her age.
Equipment: An emerald, muddy long coat-style gambeson. A chrome blue longsword with a rusty hilt. Rusted shackles on her wrists ending in broken chains, giving a false impression that she had been a prisoner; the bracelets are easily removed.
Skills and Abilities: What remains of Jun’s power is a mix of animal friendship and elemental control. She can communicate with and control weaker animals, like insects, and request the help of larger, sentient animals (though they are not compelled to obey her). She can perform subtle manipulations of fire, water, earth, wind, and other “elements” like light and shadow. Her most unique ability is to imbue elemental magic into other life forms and channel her spells through them.
She is a decent cook and survivalist and has a solid academic understanding of agriculture and ecology. She is also a decent sword and hand-to-hand fighter.
Biography: Jun of the Celadine was a stereotypical hero of legend. She was one of Isra's mightiest spellcasters, had gone on dozens of adventures, possessed several powerful artifacts, and helped bring peace to the world on many occasions.
A notorious overachiever and workaholic, Jun had driven herself to near madness pursuing powerful magic. In standard fashion, it was the power of friendship that kept her sane.
Now Jun must cope with the fact that much of the world she helped protect has been lost, and that most of the magic power she had accrued over the years has stopped working.
Her family (whose whereabouts are unknown) was a clan of farmers and gardeners. Her tribe lived in peace and harmony in a mostly forested region. Every two hundred years or so, their people produced a powerful mage and master of all elements. Jun was not this chosen one, but rather her grandmother was. Still, Jun's (somewhat unhealthy) obsession with keeping up with her ancestor made her a pretty close second.
Jun has no regrets about her journey, though she sometimes wishes she had spent more learning other skills, like cooking and dancing. She also feels she made a poor lover, though it's likely her old partners passed away in the floodwaters anyways...
Registered: May 25, 2021 13:33:31 GMT -5
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Post by Jun of the Celadine on May 25, 2021 15:16:39 GMT -5
Was this punishment for bringing peace to the world? Had ending great evil upset the balance of the universe? Was it all for nothing?
No. Whatever was happening, and wherever they were going, the Set wouldn’t be following, and that was worth every scar that adorned her now enervated body.
In fact, the more she thought about it, the more she was able to smile. There were lots of nasty things that wouldn’t be able to follow into the mist because of her. Vengeful nature goddesses, otherworldly demons, tyrannical liches, and at least one towering spider monster had fallen to her might in the age before the waters came.
Thanks to her, most of what was coming to the islands from the land of Isra would consist of good old-fashioned starving refugees.
Optimism, good.
You said it, blubbery friend.
In her prime, Jun had been a bonafide force of nature. But she hadn’t gotten that way through talent alone. A fair amount of intense labor and reckless self-endangerment had contributed to her success. So it was only fitting that she should begin anew trusting her life to a sperm whale.
The living life raft was able to keep the barely conscious woman above water with the help of a little spark. Though 95% of Jun’s power was gone, the remaining 5% was proving its worth. It might seem redundant to give a whale of all things water magic, but the extra juice was allowing it to swim with greater speed and efficiency. This meant that it could keep a solid two square meters of itself exposed to the open air, just enough for a petite ex-sorceress to sprawl on.
She wondered if she had enough power left to commune with the seagulls above. Whales, being massive and near sapient, required everything she had. But maybe, if she pushed herself just a little more-
*THOP*
The massive bird dropping missed her head by an inch.
As much as she wanted to believe that she had successfully fouled the seagull’s aim with her brain, most likely she had just gotten lucky.
Given the nature of the world’s predicament, she supposed she’d take every fateful kindness she could get.
…
Now is probably the time to get the tears out of the way.
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The Malachite Knight
Established
The Knight Chamvert
Roleplay posts: 18
Age: Undeterminable
Appearance: The knight is plated in a jade green armor with decorative brass-colored trim. Its armet snug against the confines of its being, the helmet dressed down into the cuirass, of which a white-fur pelt hung over the left shoulder, flowing down its back. Its brass-like pauldrons pointed to a fine edge and inlaid with more mythic-like detail. The armor followed down its body, tightly conforming to it until it reached the knight's pointed sabatons.
Underneath the armor one would simply find a bleached-white skeleton of a humanoid shape. Its bones in near perfect condition, barring any light dings adn scratches.
Equipment: The green knight carries a greatsword with a gold circular pommel. The pommel is inlaid with indescribable runes of an ancient sort and the image of a lion-like creature.
Skills and Abilities: The Malachite Knight in a undead skeleton, as such it does not sleep, nor can it eat. It does not need nourishment or the needs of a human, but neither can it talk. The Malachite Knight is a silent creature, perhaps a once dead knight resurrected or brought back in some past event.
Allegiances: .......
Place of Residence: .......
Registered: May 26, 2021 21:59:02 GMT -5
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Post by The Malachite Knight on May 28, 2021 21:09:37 GMT -5
SPLASH!
The metal body sunk into the waters, until reaching the sea floor. It sauntered in the direction of the isles, coming from the island's south west. The armored body trudged through the waters, slowly climbing upwards the incline of the shore.
...
Some time passed
...
Its slow march let it finally near land... water dribbled off its metal exterior and leaked from its interior, as the green knight finally surfaced, walking onto the wet beach of the isles.
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Grimnyn
New
Roleplay posts: 2
Age: Does not know - possibly mid 30s.
Appearance: "Grimnyn" is a stocky, tall (for a Dwarf) Dwarven man with a medium length beard so red it appears as fire at a glance.
Heavily muscled, even for a Dwarf, Grimnyn wears very little clothing - shirtless and wearing only a gilded buckled loincloth to cover his body. Oddly he wears a massive gold colored helmet with a full face guard and a tall crest - for which is actual hair burst through in a massive mohawk nearly as tall as his total height.
A pair of spiked pauldrons cover his burly shoulders, strapped under his armpits and linked to the helmet by chains.
His exposed skin is covered in a gold like metal which appears to be permanently molten, emitting heat and a harsh glow. Rather then tattoos these runic symbols have depth and texture, being literally hammered into his skin.
At his hip he carries a single large two handed single edged axe which has a hollow cavity at the head from which a blazing fire seemingly endlessly rages without fuel.
Equipment: Doomseeker's Helmet - A massive gold colored helmet with a a crude Dwarven face carved into it, beard and all; the Doomseeker's helmet is an impressive piece of armor with a large plume forcing Grimnyn's own hair into a massive mohawk. Beyond it's outlandish design and features it appears to otherwise be a normal helmet.
Spiked Pauldrons - Simple spiked pauldrons, strapped around his shoulders through the armpit and further stabilized by chains connecting them to the Doomseeker's Helmet.
Blazing Latchkey Grandaxe - The perpetually burning two handed greataxe is an impressive weapon, it's single edged blade superficially appearing like a key with a small gap near the top of the head. This gap is likely used to 'swordbreak' other weapons by catching it. The fire which burns without fuel in it's rear produces considerable heat, only adding to it's mystery.
Skills and Abilities: Ur-gold Runes - Grimnyn's skin is covered in molten, glowing runes of super heated metal - literally hammered into his flesh these bizarre runes turn Grimnyn's skin into an armor with few equals. Furthermore they provide explosive strength and near complete fire immunity.
Blood of Fyre - Grimnyn's blood has literally been converted into a liquid metal, the molten substance a result of Ur-gold runes. Any weapon which pierces his skin is met with forge levels of heat, and will melt with an extended contact. This Fyreblood also grants Grimnyn tremendous strength, making him considerable stronger then even his impressive Dwarven frame would suggest. It is not without it's flaws though - so high is Grimnyn's body temperature that food is tasteless and burnt in moments in his mouth, and he is uncomfortable to the touch. Snow and ice melts on contact with his flesh. Furthermore he smells overpoweringly of burnt metal, making stealth all but impossible. And forget sleeping indoors, he is a living fire hazard.
Doomseeker - Grimnyn is a legendary Dwarven figure known as a 'Doomseeker', a Dwarf who has taken the Oath of Doom and who seeks greater and greater battles, literally seeking his doom in battle. Forgoing all worldly pleasures and possessions in favor of honor in battle most Doomseekers die early in their reckless journey. Those that live long are horrific warriors of few equal.
Biography: Grimnyn's earliest memories are Fyre - and then endless water. Where he came from and why he exists is unknown even to him, all he knows is the deep rooted oath repeatedly endlessly in his mind.
Seek greater foes - die a great warrior. Whatever he is, or wherever he is from is meaningless to Grimnyn (Dwarvish for 'Fated Wanderer') for he needs not a complex goal or great legacy.
The Fyre in his blood demands action, and nothing else.
Allegiances: ----
Place of Residence: ------
Registered: Jun 2, 2021 7:03:08 GMT -5
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Post by Grimnyn on Jun 2, 2021 8:31:09 GMT -5
Hssssshhhhhh!Water burst into steam, the sudden heat turning liquid into gas at rate nearing explosive. The sound was deafening, drowning out the angry screams of Grimnyn Fyreblood, or so he would be called soon - at this moment, treading water with his stubby, powerfully built limbs Grimnyn was simply a strange looking half naked Dwarf. His body was more then three quarters submerged in the salty water, though that would be hard to tell through the rapidly increasing wall of steam which seemed to be never ending. It was if someone had began pouring magma into the middle of the sea without pause. "Sir Dwarf, grab on!" A soft voice cried out, a small hand shooting off the side of what could only be described as a child's idea of a raft. Logs of varied size were haphazardly strapped together forming a an oblong structure that might have once been square but had since become oblong. Grimnyn's massive calloused hand shot out, grasping the small hand and enveloping it entirely. The pained, high pitched howl that followed left little doubt Grimnyn was crushing it - but as the nearly 270lbs Dwarf was pulled onto the raft the damage became far clearer. The small hand was beat red, like the skin was mere moments from becoming irreparably burnt. The owner of said hand was small, no taller then five feet - soaking wet and covered in layers of clothing the figures gender was impossible to ascertain, though the sharply upward pointed ears left little doubt of their race; an elf. Softly the elf breathed on it's hand, as if trying to cool it down. "S'urry lass, I kno fer shure dat hurt. If I coulda got myself out, I woulda." Grimnyn said with surprisingly soft, soothing voice - muffled heavily by the full face helmet which covered his head. Now on the 'boat' Grimnyn's full size was apparent, he was nearly five foot two, massive for a Dwarf and built so powerfully he bordered on unbelievable. His beard was to the middle of his chest, a red and orange so vivid it looked like rolling flames. His head was covered by a full face helmet, the face guard shaped like a dwarf face with beard and all - a tall plume was built into the crest, with his actual red and orange flame like hair bursting from the top in a mohawk three feet in height. Oddly he was half naked, wearing a large gold buckle which went up to his belly button and kept a long loincloth on his waist. He was shirtless, with pauldrons strapped to his bear shoulders through his armpits and then tethered to his helmet. Perhaps most bizarre was that Grimnyn literally glowed, dozens of strange molten metal runes literally hammered into his flesh and emitting a harsh forge like glow and considerable heat. At his hip was a large single edged two handed axe which blade vaguely resembled a skeleton key due to the 'gap' near the top of the blade. Of course, far stranger was the fact the keylike axe was perpetually on fire, a hollow torch like section at the rear literally pouring flames which danced across Grimnyn's tan skin apparently harmlessly. "It's okay Sir Dwarf, I'd be dead had I not found you floating a few nights ago." The elf, which was now declared as 'lass', said. Her eyes held undeniable fear, she was putting up a strong front but the dwarf which seemed to be literally made of Fyre was unlike anything she had ever encountered. Grimnyn and the elf girl had met after the great waters had destroyed untold realities, she had found him struggling to stay afloat - at the time she had not noticed the great gout of steam, so covered in The Mist was the location. A few nights with Grimnyn had the elf certain she had saved a demon or some sort of infernal, his body heat alone literally caused the wet wood below his bare feet to hiss; were it not soaked she was certain it would catch fire. His weapon burned endlessly, whether submerged or otherwise - without fuel. That spoke nothing of his disturbing metal flesh runes or his unbearable, burnt metal scent. But he was also calm, friendly, and the greatest warrior she had ever seen. Not once but twice he had suddenly jumped into the sea, screaming about a worthy doom before going to battle with sea bound horror which his massive axe hacked to pieces like it was barely a threat. Creatures which would have killed her with ease. His great flaw, as the elf saw it, was that he could not swim. His body heat and the heat of his metal runes caused water to become steam rapidly, which only further hindered his clumsy attempts at swimming. "Aye lass, but I dun doubt yer ability to survive. Ye shouldn't eith-" Grimnyn stopped short, pointing toward a rising silhouette in the distance. The hiss of wet clothes on a hot skin wasn't even noticed under the howls of happiness the pair shared, their dual embrace a telling response to the true peril of their journey. Neither expected to live, and each feared that for a different reason. The reality that they would live was overwhelming, and it came pouring out in unkempt emotion. Grimnyn Fireblood, Last of the Dwarves of Fyre, Doomseeker had arrived at the isles - his tale only just begun.
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Calypso Caliban
Committed
Calypso "Mother Fucking" Caliban
Roleplay posts: 58 
Age: 34
Appearance: There is no other way to describe Calypso Caliban than man. For starters, his shoulders are broad. Massively broad. The man might be as wide as two of a smaller man, if not, he would only be a few inches under that. On top of that, he is made of muscles. Good solid, working man muscle, not the kind you see on vain bodybuilders but the kind that is so built up and solidly packed that he might look a bit heavy wearing normal clothes.
Normal clothes aren't normally on the menu. The man enjoys dressing to show off, which means a lot of light silk shirts. Which he rarely buttons up, showing off a thick forest of chest hair over the previously mentioned muscle. A pair of comfortable shorts show that the hair is a whole-body affair and that he most certainly did not skip leg day. Nor did he seem to skip any visible part of him while tanning since his skin is tanned perfectly bronze.
Of course, the man’s facial features lived up to the rest of him. Cal’s hair? Amazing, so thick it looked like you could break a comb in it, jet black, and cut short and styled perfectly. It matched his full beard, which is well-groomed and oiled flawlessly. His jawline is hidden under the beard but there can be no doubt that it is square and perfectly chiselled. High cheekbones gave him a smile that could win over the most hardened heart, yet a low brow added just a touch of menace.
The closest thing to a flaw is his nose, which is just a bit crooked. Looking as though it had been broken and reset less than perfectly sometime in the past. Yet, behind it was a pair of almost electric azure-coloured orbs that somehow made even that slight flaw just add to his rugged charms.
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Equipment: Calypso has his cutlass and some rum, not a whole lot else.
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Skills and Abilities: Calypso is quite a talented individual. Naturally, his career as a pirate gives him all the skills of a sailor. He knows how to tie knots, read the wind, navigate by the stars, swim, and run a ship.
But beyond that, he is a bit of an explorer and a rogue. He is good at sleight of hand, navigating jungles and other wild environments, climbing various surfaces, sneak about unseen, tracking, and many other useful survival tactics.
Finally, on top of all that, he is, or was, an extremely potent Weather Mage. Since passing through the mists he has found most of his quick and dirty magic to be far too taxing to actually perform. However, the more involved ritual magic he uses to change the weather still seems to work. Though these rituals take, at bare minimum, an hour to perform. The bigger the change he is trying to create the longer it takes and it certainly doesn't have much practical application in combat. But he has his fists and sword for that.
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Biography: Calypso's past is vague and uncertain, mostly because he would never give a straight answer to such a question. He was the captain of a Pirate ship, The Free Ship Mistrunner. However, that was lost in the mists and he was set adrift.
His personality is eccentric, to put it mildly. He is indolent, amorous, gregarious, and self-assured. He moves to the beat of his own drum and acts as though everything that happens is part of some grand plan or design he's put into place. People tend to find him either endearingly odd or infuriatingly annoying, largely depending on their tolerance for a man who does whatever he wants whenever the mood strikes him.
Allegiances: Himself
Place of Residence: Undeclared
Registered: Jun 2, 2021 11:16:49 GMT -5
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Post by Calypso Caliban on Jun 2, 2021 13:16:40 GMT -5
There was, in Calypso's opinion, worse ways to live out the apocalypse. Indeed, he imagined most would be rather envious of where he'd been when the waters came. It just wasn't where he personally would have liked to have been that was rather irksome. Obviously, as a pirate king, he would have preferred to be on his ship when the end of the world came. That was a proper sailing vessel to live out the rest of his life. Three-masted, a full crew, and his quarters were far more luxurious than what he had on the damn boat he was on now. The bed in the private quarters on this tub only had a full-sized mattress for storm's sake! He'd thought he was robbing a Duke, not a peasant.
Indeed, the small pleasure yacht only had a handful of redeeming features. First, the single-masted ship was small enough that a loan man could handle it themselves. The Duke in question had, evidently, fancied himself as a bit of a sailor as he'd served as an admiral in the King's navy so that made sense. It was well supplied with various liquours and delicacies for Cal to sup on as he'd drifted on the tides. There was a singular bookshelf in the living quarters that had a few interesting volumes. The ship even had its own desalinating station for freshwater which was useful. The blasted mist that had swallowed him as the waters rouse seemed to fight against his attempts to use his magic. So he'd been unable to summon a wind to start moving him in a direction. Of course, with mist so thick he couldn't see anything he supposed it didn't matter since he wouldn't know which way to go.
"Boooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooored."
The man calls out to the cloudy sky. It was bright enough that he had to assume it was daytime but he couldn't actually tell where the sun might be. Indeed, it never quite seemed to get dark enough for him to know if it set or not. This was almost as bad as being in prison. Worse actually, now that he thought about it. In a prison, he could plan his escape or taunt the guards or chat with the other prisoners. On this ship, all he had to do was read, exercise, and eat. It was, to put it mildly, nowhere near enough entertainment for him. Perhaps he had died and this was purgatory? No, that was ridiculous. He was many things but boring enough to be sent to purgatory? Absolutely not he'd be going to one of the various hells or heavens for sure, depending on how much of a sense of humour whatever deity that collected his soul had.
Making a popping sound with his mouth he blinks as he notices it is getting brighter. Was that his mind playing tricks on him? No, apparently not, because he could feel the warmth of sunlight on his cheeks and suddenly the oppressive misty cloud cover breaks away revealing blue skies and sunshine. Which galvanized him back to his feet with an excited whoop. Something was happening! This is exactly what he needed some bloody stimulation. Hell, perhaps free of the mist he could even...
"DAMN IT ALL! FUCK YOU, YOU DAMN FOGGY BASTARD!"
Shaking his fist at the fog bank he was floating away from he was very annoyed. It was being a tease. He could feel some of his magic once again but it was distant like he was trying to grope for it blindly in the mist and dragging in little scraps. Well, he would not be defeated. His training had covered how to do magic the hard way and not just the quick and dirty way. He just needed something to scribble on the deck with...
A piece of charcoal, some freshwater to cleanse himself, and a fluffy white robe from the Duke's former wardrobe was just what he needed. Setting up the compass rose sigil he pulls out a spyglass and scans the horizon. It doesn't take him long to spot the distinct shadow of land in the distance. It takes him an, embarrassingly, long time to complete the ritual. He felt a damned apprentice again with how long it took but when he finishes he feels a gentle breeze start to blow in his desired direction.
"HA!"
The man declares shaking his fist towards the mist once more.
"You can't keep Calypso Mother Fucking Caliban down you damn misty bastard!"
Then he gets to work hoisting the sail, catching the breeze, and setting the ship towards land. Hopefully, he could find some other people. He could use a good conversation, a fight, and or a shag. Just something to amuse himself after so bloody long by himself.
"Look out world! I'm coming for ya!"
The man hollers with an enthusiastic shine to his azure eyes as he laughs like a maniac. The ship slicing through the waves at a good clip, he had no idea what he would find on those distant shores but he was positive it would be better than drifting in bloody purgatory.
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