New Isra
Committed
Roleplay posts: 71
Biography: This account represents the NPCs and locations associated with New Isra!
Allegiances: Isra
Registered: Mar 16, 2021 22:30:20 GMT -5
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Post by New Isra on Mar 26, 2021 16:42:54 GMT -5
In the center of Port Argentium, such as it is, there stands a fire. Kept burning day and night to serve as a beacon, gathering place, and to save them the trouble of trying to start a fire again, it serves as the center point of social life in Port Argentium.
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Mint Flames
Established
Roleplay posts: 12
Age: Mais enfin!
Appearance: ///
My grandmother said when I ran around I was a blur of autumn colors. My hair is quite a bit shorter now but the tone has remained. My eyes as well.
I suppose you could say I look sporty? I keep in shape not through rigorous exercise but through keeping in motion. I can’t help taking long walks to interesting places. So I’m quite thin. Beh, plucky in places. Not that I’d show you.
Curious about what I look like under this mantle? This tunic? Cherie, you better buy me a sweet drink and treat me like I’m a glass rose before you get the slightest peek.
Equipment: ///
My clothes? I like to keep it simple, but I had these tailor-made. Down to earth, yet eye-catching. Like the land of Gauldin itself.
Oh, these earrings? They were my grandmothers. I know they’re old-fashioned but they go well with my eyes, n’est pas?
Other than that? I keep a well-made diary and a pencil to write with. It’s bound in rough weathered leather, insides filled with random thoughts and drafts of poetry. When I have it right, I dogear the page.
Skills and Abilities: ///
I hold a pen like a commander leading a charge holds their sword. I write histories, loves, and poems to make a God shiver. I write the names of my friends and enemies alike into the very foundation of this earth so that they will not be forgotten. A flick of my wrist today shakes a nation tomorrow. And tomorrow and tomorrow.
Biography: ///
I lived as a poet within the capital of Gauldin. As you may imagine, the competition was fierce so I had to be able to peer deeper and deeper into mankind’s soul to make a decent coin. And with the world with such variety of lives as varied as Overworld… Well, you can imagine the task broke many. With this new world, just thinking of the poet’s task to capture every essence living in this land fills me with terror… And sublime excitement.
Registered: Mar 26, 2021 18:56:28 GMT -5
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Post by Mint Flames on Mar 27, 2021 22:04:39 GMT -5
Mint had taken one of the benches closest to the fire. In their opinion, the landing party had set them way too close. The wind kept blowing smoke on their face and it was way too hot, but that was fine. They needed the light for what they were doing. On the table in front of them was one notebook, few pencils. All that they had left.
They had come on one of the last boats ashore. The camp was already made and there was not much to do as the dark was fast approaching. Mint hadn’t much appetite but they chewed on their meal (Was this chicken or seagull?) with the hand that wasn’t squeezing the pen.
Mint knew it was more important to write down their journey on the boat, everything that had happened so far, and what could or should happen. They could be the one to inscribe the founding of New Isra onto the pages of history! Instead, all they could manage was trace the lines of the fallen kingdom of Gauldin onto the page. Shading the valleys. Adding wavy lines where the mountain range stood. The mountains were so green. They wished they had green.
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Nine
Established
Roleplay posts: 11
Age: 18
Appearance: Nine has long straight black hair, and deep blue eyes, framed by a face with angular features. She stands at 5'7" with an overall lithe build.
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Equipment: Nine typically wears muted, unsaturated greys or blacks for clothing, typically consisting of some trousers, tunic, and a warm dark grey fur-lined cloak. She generally dresses for comfort, and the only physical weapon she carries most of the time is a dagger.
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Skills and Abilities: Nine possesses a strong affinity for magic, though she is not yet completely trained in its use. She can use telekinetic and fire magic to a reasonable degree though, enough to defend herself from the typical armed robber at least.
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Biography: Nine's early life was quite a strange one, growing up in what seemed to be some sort of facility that was very magical in nature. The purpose of which to Nine seemed to be to create strong spellcasters, though she does not know for sure. She has since escaped that place, and found herself in Isra.
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However things did not turn out so well, and Nine found herself jumping from the frying pan to the fire, so to say, as her new home in Isra was subsequently destroyed by floods. Now she finds herself here, still as confused as ever, with no idea what path she will take forward next.
Allegiances: Isra, Naoki
Registered: Mar 21, 2021 14:02:12 GMT -5
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Post by Nine on Mar 27, 2021 23:27:17 GMT -5
A slip of a girl, bundled up in a dark grey cloak would approach the fire next, fading in from the moonlit background as she approached on quiet dainty steps, the orange glow and warmth of the bonfire washing over her causing her to sigh silently in relief. Her eyes, a deep blue, gleamed as she stared into the fire, only very briefly darting to the other who sat there momentarily as she settled down carefully onto a nearby bench, taking great care to leave a one bench gap. She offered no words immediately as she slightly undid her cloak, letting the warmth of the bonfire wash over her.
Nine had also come ashore on one of the last boats, though it was a sense of anxiety that held her back more than a lack of opportunity. She had not wanted to face this new life at first, and she felt as though coming ashore was the first step in doing so. At the time she had felt utterly alone in this new world, though she had felt the same in Isra as well. She held no ties to any others there or here.
She wondered, as she sat silently there, What would her purpose here in this new land be? Why did she survive when so many others have lost those they loved? No one cared for her or truly knew her, what a cruel joke it was, her being here.
She sighed after a long while, the faintest hint of a mournful expression almost surfacing before she repressed such feelings once again, and her neutral expression returned. Eventually, her curiosity got the best of her after several stolen glances towards Mint as she drew. Perhaps she could strike up some sort of conversation, or make a new friend? She contemplated silently for a few minutes, eventually building up the courage to break the silence as she slid a bit closer to peer at the parchment Mint drew upon.
"A-Are you drawing something?" the young girl asked, biting her lip. She had been stealing glances for some time, noting the long flowing lines Mint's hand were following. She remembered how she used to enjoy drawing, in her old home. The one where she felt she belonged, where she was also a prisoner.
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Chance
Established
Roleplay posts: 11
Age: Looks to be in his mid 30s.
Appearance: With a stare hardened by sadness, Chance can be a difficult man to approach. He is tall with broad shoulder, but is overly lean as if malnourished. His eyes are generally somber, but when he focuses on another person a rage kindles with in them. There is a long scar that stretches down the left side of his face and down the neck. Despite his natural appearance and demeanor on the rare occasion that Chance smiles his features become surprisingly warm and caring.
Registered: Mar 26, 2021 22:20:29 GMT -5
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Post by Chance on Mar 27, 2021 23:43:12 GMT -5
Moving out of the path of the smoke once again. Chance found himself sitting next to someone. A pretty young girl by the looks, but he had made that mistake once already tonight. He had called Rune miss but had latter been corrected by an onlooker. Chance smirked to himself, perhaps he had just been locked up too long. Regardless, such things mattered little to him at present. Only in the past hours had the inklings of what it meant to be alive began to take seed. The beauty of this world and the tenacity of the diasporas who inhabited it was unlike anything in his homogeneous memory.
Chance looked once more at his bench companion, and decided it probably was a woman, maybe. Feeling like it would be rude not to say anything, he wracked his mind for an introduction. A scene flickered at the edge of his memory and then was gone. Such things had been happening a lot lately. He felt that there was once another in his life that would know exactly what to say. There were canned phrases for moments like these. Words locked away, only brought out when needed; slaves to their cause. Abruptly, Chance realized that he had been staring too long without saying anything. That look had frightened people on the ship, though he didn’t know why. Wishing he could just walk away, but knowing that would be the worst thing to do he said, “Excuse me… I was wondering what you were writing.”
He spoke at the exact same time as another person who he had not noticed. This one was definitely a woman. What an awkward situation. Chance wanted to throw himself into the fire about now. Instead he looked down at his feet not wanting to make anything worse.
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Mint Flames
Established
Roleplay posts: 12
Age: Mais enfin!
Appearance: ///
My grandmother said when I ran around I was a blur of autumn colors. My hair is quite a bit shorter now but the tone has remained. My eyes as well.
I suppose you could say I look sporty? I keep in shape not through rigorous exercise but through keeping in motion. I can’t help taking long walks to interesting places. So I’m quite thin. Beh, plucky in places. Not that I’d show you.
Curious about what I look like under this mantle? This tunic? Cherie, you better buy me a sweet drink and treat me like I’m a glass rose before you get the slightest peek.
Equipment: ///
My clothes? I like to keep it simple, but I had these tailor-made. Down to earth, yet eye-catching. Like the land of Gauldin itself.
Oh, these earrings? They were my grandmothers. I know they’re old-fashioned but they go well with my eyes, n’est pas?
Other than that? I keep a well-made diary and a pencil to write with. It’s bound in rough weathered leather, insides filled with random thoughts and drafts of poetry. When I have it right, I dogear the page.
Skills and Abilities: ///
I hold a pen like a commander leading a charge holds their sword. I write histories, loves, and poems to make a God shiver. I write the names of my friends and enemies alike into the very foundation of this earth so that they will not be forgotten. A flick of my wrist today shakes a nation tomorrow. And tomorrow and tomorrow.
Biography: ///
I lived as a poet within the capital of Gauldin. As you may imagine, the competition was fierce so I had to be able to peer deeper and deeper into mankind’s soul to make a decent coin. And with the world with such variety of lives as varied as Overworld… Well, you can imagine the task broke many. With this new world, just thinking of the poet’s task to capture every essence living in this land fills me with terror… And sublime excitement.
Registered: Mar 26, 2021 18:56:28 GMT -5
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Post by Mint Flames on Mar 28, 2021 17:12:49 GMT -5
Mint lifted the pen from the paper and shot a look across. Two others had slid near, a woman and a man. Interesting. One had asked about their drawing, the other about their writing, nearly at the same time. At some other time meeting would have had their mind racing for allegories, right words to give meaning for a seemingly meaningless thing such as this.
Mais non. Mint was not yet out of their mourning. And a faux-pas was brewing. They decided to save the pair further embarrassment.
“It’s my homeland I’m drawing. From memory, savez-vous?” They spun the book around so both could see the drawing more clearly. “Does this look familiar?”
They had marked the biggest and most notable cities to the best of their memories, rivers and roads were drawn with loving attention paid to every curve. Above the picture it read “Kingdom of Gauldin” in wavy, decorative lines.
“It’s a place dear to me, I’m committing it to the page so I won’t forget.” They hunched back over the page and drew a line to suggest a wave hitting the coast. They sunk into their own world as they worked. “C'est les pays de beaux, mais de guerre, aussi. We had such beautiful songs there.”
Mint hummed a melody, then with a small, bright voice, they began to sing while shading the hills in the light of the fire.
Comme un enfant aux yeux de lumière Qui voit passer au loin les oiseaux Comme l'oiseau bleu survolant la Terre Vois comme le monde, le monde est beau
That was just the first verse but Mint found themselves stopping. The map had been completed. Any additions they would make would be defilement. “Ah but look at me, singing songs of the past, we’re supposed to look forwards, bien sûr.”
They closed the book and gave more attention to their new companions. They also gave an encouraging smile, but it was more to cloud their own mélancholie. “My name is Mint. A poet is what I used to be. Hopefully I still am. Since we’re talking about past, why don’t you two tell me how you ended up on this beach, eating sea fowl.”
Mint locked eyes with both Nine and Chance, waiting who would be the first to respond.
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Chance
Established
Roleplay posts: 11
Age: Looks to be in his mid 30s.
Appearance: With a stare hardened by sadness, Chance can be a difficult man to approach. He is tall with broad shoulder, but is overly lean as if malnourished. His eyes are generally somber, but when he focuses on another person a rage kindles with in them. There is a long scar that stretches down the left side of his face and down the neck. Despite his natural appearance and demeanor on the rare occasion that Chance smiles his features become surprisingly warm and caring.
Registered: Mar 26, 2021 22:20:29 GMT -5
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Post by Chance on Mar 28, 2021 20:18:13 GMT -5
“I remember.” Chance said with a little awe, tracing a finger over Travére. A memory arose of twisty alleyways, a large bay, and the silhouette of the capitol city, its spires distinct in the dusk. He closed his eyes, listening to the song, and was surprised to even understand some of the language. “Le monde est beau.” He agreed at the end.
“Never forget your past. Keep those songs and memories alive. I can’t remember mine. I don’t know what happened. The world was blurry for a while, like I was half asleep. Eventually, I awoke and…” Chance trailed off afraid of what the others might think if he said too much. It certainly frightened Chance a little.
“You’re words brought a little back, though. I visited Gauldin once I think. Thank you for that.”
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Nine
Established
Roleplay posts: 11
Age: 18
Appearance: Nine has long straight black hair, and deep blue eyes, framed by a face with angular features. She stands at 5'7" with an overall lithe build.
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Equipment: Nine typically wears muted, unsaturated greys or blacks for clothing, typically consisting of some trousers, tunic, and a warm dark grey fur-lined cloak. She generally dresses for comfort, and the only physical weapon she carries most of the time is a dagger.
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Skills and Abilities: Nine possesses a strong affinity for magic, though she is not yet completely trained in its use. She can use telekinetic and fire magic to a reasonable degree though, enough to defend herself from the typical armed robber at least.
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Biography: Nine's early life was quite a strange one, growing up in what seemed to be some sort of facility that was very magical in nature. The purpose of which to Nine seemed to be to create strong spellcasters, though she does not know for sure. She has since escaped that place, and found herself in Isra.
----
However things did not turn out so well, and Nine found herself jumping from the frying pan to the fire, so to say, as her new home in Isra was subsequently destroyed by floods. Now she finds herself here, still as confused as ever, with no idea what path she will take forward next.
Allegiances: Isra, Naoki
Registered: Mar 21, 2021 14:02:12 GMT -5
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Post by Nine on Mar 30, 2021 17:02:51 GMT -5
Nine was somewhat startled upon hearing the second voice, and somewhat impressed with how they were so eerily parallel, causing a bit of a resonance. Nine initially fell silent after that, her eyes carefully appraising Mint's picture. When asked if it was familiar, she simply shook her head. The only place she had known was the city of Isra and the surrounding plains, as well as the palace at it's center where she had found her new home previously. She had heard of Gauldin before, however. Perhaps that strange language Mint and Chance spoke in was native to that land...
Nine nodded in agreement with Mint's reasoning for drawing the picture, remaining by the wayside of the conversation between Chance and Mint for now. She herself had known places dear to her in the past, of which her memories had been fading for some time. Perhaps it would be a good idea to draw herself, though she would have to procure her own supplies somewhere - she couldn't even think of asking Mint to let her borrow some of her's, she seemed to be low on supplies herself.
Once the silence fell after Chance's introduction, Nine found herself unable to remain silent any longer as they both turned expectantly. In the back of her mind she felt her answer would be somewhat disappointing, though she steeled herself nonetheless,
"My name is Nine, like the number... I was lucky enough to be in the palace in Isra when it started, the Empress thought it important to bring me along I guess. That is the only reason I survived."
Nine knew exactly the reason she was brought along however. She had been a supremely powerful mage, even untrained as she was back in the Overworld, and even here with the magic dampening effects of the mist she was still able to use magic. She hesitated to reveal this fact to just anyone, though.
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Mint Flames
Established
Roleplay posts: 12
Age: Mais enfin!
Appearance: ///
My grandmother said when I ran around I was a blur of autumn colors. My hair is quite a bit shorter now but the tone has remained. My eyes as well.
I suppose you could say I look sporty? I keep in shape not through rigorous exercise but through keeping in motion. I can’t help taking long walks to interesting places. So I’m quite thin. Beh, plucky in places. Not that I’d show you.
Curious about what I look like under this mantle? This tunic? Cherie, you better buy me a sweet drink and treat me like I’m a glass rose before you get the slightest peek.
Equipment: ///
My clothes? I like to keep it simple, but I had these tailor-made. Down to earth, yet eye-catching. Like the land of Gauldin itself.
Oh, these earrings? They were my grandmothers. I know they’re old-fashioned but they go well with my eyes, n’est pas?
Other than that? I keep a well-made diary and a pencil to write with. It’s bound in rough weathered leather, insides filled with random thoughts and drafts of poetry. When I have it right, I dogear the page.
Skills and Abilities: ///
I hold a pen like a commander leading a charge holds their sword. I write histories, loves, and poems to make a God shiver. I write the names of my friends and enemies alike into the very foundation of this earth so that they will not be forgotten. A flick of my wrist today shakes a nation tomorrow. And tomorrow and tomorrow.
Biography: ///
I lived as a poet within the capital of Gauldin. As you may imagine, the competition was fierce so I had to be able to peer deeper and deeper into mankind’s soul to make a decent coin. And with the world with such variety of lives as varied as Overworld… Well, you can imagine the task broke many. With this new world, just thinking of the poet’s task to capture every essence living in this land fills me with terror… And sublime excitement.
Registered: Mar 26, 2021 18:56:28 GMT -5
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Post by Mint Flames on Apr 1, 2021 14:56:47 GMT -5
“Travére…” Mint’s eyes grew misty. “Oui! It’s where I found my home. The Royal Academy of the Arcane, the opera... It was the wealthiest city in all the world, both in knowledge, and the arts. The things that matter.”
Mint smiled wistfully, and felt a connection forming with this man. He hadn’t seemed the type to give too much of himself (not a type Mint found themselves going for usually), but here they were sharing stories by the fire, and it was like meeting an old friend after being away from home for so long.
Miss Nine was even more timid when she responded. “I’m clearly in the presence of an important person then!” Mint gave a playful bow in her direction. Not too big. They had noted Nine hadn’t exactly explained their function in the capital of Isra, and why the ex-empress wanted to keep them near, but Mint guessed a person like that wouldn’t want too much attention…
Ah, au diable avec ça! They had to know! Mint had an obsession with interesting people and with these two they had hit gold. They scooted closer. “Why don’t you tell your new copains a bit more of this… Travail- this work you do? I rarely meet people in your station.”
Without thinking, Mint had procured the book back into their hands, and while their eyes were locked with Nines, they were biting the back of their pencil. Lightly, almost flirtatiously.
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Chance
Established
Roleplay posts: 11
Age: Looks to be in his mid 30s.
Appearance: With a stare hardened by sadness, Chance can be a difficult man to approach. He is tall with broad shoulder, but is overly lean as if malnourished. His eyes are generally somber, but when he focuses on another person a rage kindles with in them. There is a long scar that stretches down the left side of his face and down the neck. Despite his natural appearance and demeanor on the rare occasion that Chance smiles his features become surprisingly warm and caring.
Registered: Mar 26, 2021 22:20:29 GMT -5
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Post by Chance on Apr 3, 2021 2:46:25 GMT -5
Well, he had made it through some small talk, and had learned something about himself as well. Chance silently dwelled on the memory a bit longer, hoping to tease out a few more facts. The name Travére seemed to fit with the image of the city he had in his mind. The capitol perhaps. Probably, judging by the way Mint had spoken of it. Neither the Royal Academy nor the opera rang any bells though, and nothing more seemed to come.
No more questions were directed at him and it seemed the conversation was switching to politics. Chance, having kept to himself on the Depravity, did not know who this Empress was. Having no memory of his past this was a difficult subject to find interest in, besides he had to get an early start in the morning. He murmured a polite good by and then made off for the tent he had been assigned. While walking away he ran his thumb across the etched face of the piece of wood in his pocket, only then realizing he had neglected to give the pair his name.
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Nine
Established
Roleplay posts: 11
Age: 18
Appearance: Nine has long straight black hair, and deep blue eyes, framed by a face with angular features. She stands at 5'7" with an overall lithe build.
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Equipment: Nine typically wears muted, unsaturated greys or blacks for clothing, typically consisting of some trousers, tunic, and a warm dark grey fur-lined cloak. She generally dresses for comfort, and the only physical weapon she carries most of the time is a dagger.
----
Skills and Abilities: Nine possesses a strong affinity for magic, though she is not yet completely trained in its use. She can use telekinetic and fire magic to a reasonable degree though, enough to defend herself from the typical armed robber at least.
----
Biography: Nine's early life was quite a strange one, growing up in what seemed to be some sort of facility that was very magical in nature. The purpose of which to Nine seemed to be to create strong spellcasters, though she does not know for sure. She has since escaped that place, and found herself in Isra.
----
However things did not turn out so well, and Nine found herself jumping from the frying pan to the fire, so to say, as her new home in Isra was subsequently destroyed by floods. Now she finds herself here, still as confused as ever, with no idea what path she will take forward next.
Allegiances: Isra, Naoki
Registered: Mar 21, 2021 14:02:12 GMT -5
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Post by Nine on Apr 4, 2021 21:44:15 GMT -5
Nine scarcely noticed as Chance took his leave until he was several steps away, her mind quite occupied weighing many different possibilities in a few moments of silence as her gaze remained affixed to Mint's after her question. Her noticing him taking his leave a few moments later as her deep blue gaze flickered towards his retreating form and her eyes slightly widened seemed to momentarily reset her mental processing, giving her another pause as she pursed her lips - perhaps it wouldn't be too big of a deal now to reveal more with only Mint here now - less risky. She did feel kind of bad for a moment though; Hopefully she didn't do anything to make Chance seem unwelcome, her silence had that effect on others in the past.
Either way, as Nine looked back to Mint, she seemed genuinely curious, Nine could tell by the way she scooted slightly closer, perhaps revealing some more would be seen as a show of trust, leading to a new friendship...
"Uhm, well," Nine paused, wondering now whether her previous vague statement would be seen as rude, before pushing such thoughts away and continuing, "I was a mage in Isra, they were training me. Most people here now have lost their ability to use magic due to the mists... many seem bitter about it... Well I can still use it here, so I suppose my job is to just keep practicing, like before."
Nine hoped Mint wasn't one of these aforementioned bitter former magic-users, of which she just knew she would undoubtedly run into if she just ran around telling everyone about her retained ability. Not only that - but back in Isra she felt as if that was her only value, revealing such a fact so early into meeting new people seemed to be counter-intuitive to her real desires - which was to be seen as a person and not some sort of magical trump card.
"What did you do, back in Travére?" she asked, giving Mint an opportunity to talk about herself - she knew people liked that.
Nine had heard of the city before, actually, and her pronunciation was on point. The Royal Academy of the Arcane was one of the centers of magical knowledge in the overworld after all, anyone studying magic knew about it, though Nine's knowledge of the surrounding country was lacking. She even still had some books she was studying from that same academy, though not on her person at the moment. They were one of the few things she deigned important enough to grab as the waters rose.
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Mint Flames
Established
Roleplay posts: 12
Age: Mais enfin!
Appearance: ///
My grandmother said when I ran around I was a blur of autumn colors. My hair is quite a bit shorter now but the tone has remained. My eyes as well.
I suppose you could say I look sporty? I keep in shape not through rigorous exercise but through keeping in motion. I can’t help taking long walks to interesting places. So I’m quite thin. Beh, plucky in places. Not that I’d show you.
Curious about what I look like under this mantle? This tunic? Cherie, you better buy me a sweet drink and treat me like I’m a glass rose before you get the slightest peek.
Equipment: ///
My clothes? I like to keep it simple, but I had these tailor-made. Down to earth, yet eye-catching. Like the land of Gauldin itself.
Oh, these earrings? They were my grandmothers. I know they’re old-fashioned but they go well with my eyes, n’est pas?
Other than that? I keep a well-made diary and a pencil to write with. It’s bound in rough weathered leather, insides filled with random thoughts and drafts of poetry. When I have it right, I dogear the page.
Skills and Abilities: ///
I hold a pen like a commander leading a charge holds their sword. I write histories, loves, and poems to make a God shiver. I write the names of my friends and enemies alike into the very foundation of this earth so that they will not be forgotten. A flick of my wrist today shakes a nation tomorrow. And tomorrow and tomorrow.
Biography: ///
I lived as a poet within the capital of Gauldin. As you may imagine, the competition was fierce so I had to be able to peer deeper and deeper into mankind’s soul to make a decent coin. And with the world with such variety of lives as varied as Overworld… Well, you can imagine the task broke many. With this new world, just thinking of the poet’s task to capture every essence living in this land fills me with terror… And sublime excitement.
Registered: Mar 26, 2021 18:56:28 GMT -5
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Post by Mint Flames on Apr 6, 2021 14:07:23 GMT -5
The gruff man left. Mint voiced a farewell but it was barely audible over the crackle of the bonfire. There was a stinging feeling in their chest. Of wanting to meet him again. Soon. Yes, soon. This connection was unexpected and exciting and Mint lived for those kind of things.
These things were also those that Nine was speaking of. “A mage… Oh yes! I do remember hearing people say those things were difficult now.” Magic was a less potent metaphor when most people knew someone who could call down lightning. Maybe now… at least a mage in training fighting back against the oppressive storm trying to stifle their efforts could be spun into a compelling song.
“If you know Travére then you must know l’Académie Royale de l'Arcane, or like we called it, Royarc.” Mint shook their head. Travére slang sounded out of place here. “Maybe you knew someone who graduated there? I did not know anyone by name, mais cela ne m'a pas empêché de coucher avec eux… Student life, you know.” They shrug and don’t bother translating. Nine was old enough that she could probably understand the implications.
“I do not dabble in such things. My words cannot conjure spells but I don’t think that makes them any less magical.” They laughed at their own joke. “I’m a poet. Was one of the greatest. I don’t know if I still am. I could very well be the greatest.” Mint made an unspecific gesture at the miscellaneous people around them that had made it through the Mist. “Though that would be a tragedy.” They scronched their face like a person just realising that they wouldn’t have anything new to read for a long time.
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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
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Post by Thuratiphel on Apr 11, 2021 20:04:38 GMT -5
Thuratiphel entered the tent town, his peculiar appearance, size, and flame body presumably attracting alot of attention.
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Sylvanie Autumndaughter
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 145
Age: 43, though she looks closer to her mid twenties, going by human standards
Appearance: She has auburn hair, like that of fall leaves, that falls down to about her waist, as well as a golden-yellow pair of eyes and pale skin. Her clothing is very nature inspired, appearing to be made of sewn leaves and tree bark, as well as vines for straps and a belt. She usually goes around barefooted(though she has a vine tied around her left ankle) and comes no taller than 5'4" She has a thin frame and clear skin, except for a very slight scar on the top of her right hand, and she bares a pair of translucent wings similar to those of an insect, like a butterfly, though they appear too small to lift her.
Equipment: As she arrived on the Isle she had no equipment to write about, other than the clothes on her back and what appeared to be a dagger made out of wood.
Skills and Abilities: Before arriving here, she could commune with nature and help plants to grow, as well as speak with animals, fly, and cast a variety of nature and illusion based spells. Since arriving, most of her magic has waned significantly. If her spells work at all they take much longer to take hold, her understanding of animals has become much more broken, her flight has left her entirely, and the trees here seem to fall quiet or silent to her ears. Annoyingly, she still seems to hold the allergy to iron and steel that her mother's blood gives her.
Biography: Born of a human father and a fairy mother, Sylvanie was known in her world as a Faeschild. Raised by her mother in the world of magic the fairies inhabited, she learned many things about nature and magic, such as the fairy's ability to commune with it, the animals' nature as a part of it, and humanity's great fear of it. She was always quite naïve and fiery, her heart thirsting for adventure. However, she didn't get the chance before...it happened. She isn't entirely sure what it was, or what happened, but the next thing she new, she was coughing up seawater on the shore of a strange island. Who knows where it'll take her next?
Registered: Apr 9, 2021 0:02:55 GMT -5
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Post by Sylvanie Autumndaughter on Apr 11, 2021 21:11:04 GMT -5
Thuratiphel entered the tent town, his peculiar appearance, size, and flame body presumably attracting alot of attention. Behind the seven foot man trailed a barefoot lady, no taller than 5'4", a pair of small insectoid wings upon her back, jogging to keep up with his long strides in a dress made from what seemed to be various foliage of a forest. "Wait up!" She calls. "I'm finding it...hard to keep stride!"
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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
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Post by Thuratiphel on Apr 11, 2021 21:15:44 GMT -5
Thuratiphel entered the tent town, his peculiar appearance, size, and flame body presumably attracting alot of attention. Behind the seven foot man trailed a barefoot lady, no taller than 5'4", a pair of small insectoid wings upon her back, jogging to keep up with his long strides in a dress made from what seemed to be various foliage of a forest. "Wait up!" She calls. "I'm finding it...hard to keep stride!" "Then try to be less slow!" Thuratiphel taunted, slowing down regardless. They made an odd pair, a large, armored man, covered in death imagery and fire, and a small woman, in a plant dress with tiny wings.
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Sylvanie Autumndaughter
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 145
Age: 43, though she looks closer to her mid twenties, going by human standards
Appearance: She has auburn hair, like that of fall leaves, that falls down to about her waist, as well as a golden-yellow pair of eyes and pale skin. Her clothing is very nature inspired, appearing to be made of sewn leaves and tree bark, as well as vines for straps and a belt. She usually goes around barefooted(though she has a vine tied around her left ankle) and comes no taller than 5'4" She has a thin frame and clear skin, except for a very slight scar on the top of her right hand, and she bares a pair of translucent wings similar to those of an insect, like a butterfly, though they appear too small to lift her.
Equipment: As she arrived on the Isle she had no equipment to write about, other than the clothes on her back and what appeared to be a dagger made out of wood.
Skills and Abilities: Before arriving here, she could commune with nature and help plants to grow, as well as speak with animals, fly, and cast a variety of nature and illusion based spells. Since arriving, most of her magic has waned significantly. If her spells work at all they take much longer to take hold, her understanding of animals has become much more broken, her flight has left her entirely, and the trees here seem to fall quiet or silent to her ears. Annoyingly, she still seems to hold the allergy to iron and steel that her mother's blood gives her.
Biography: Born of a human father and a fairy mother, Sylvanie was known in her world as a Faeschild. Raised by her mother in the world of magic the fairies inhabited, she learned many things about nature and magic, such as the fairy's ability to commune with it, the animals' nature as a part of it, and humanity's great fear of it. She was always quite naïve and fiery, her heart thirsting for adventure. However, she didn't get the chance before...it happened. She isn't entirely sure what it was, or what happened, but the next thing she new, she was coughing up seawater on the shore of a strange island. Who knows where it'll take her next?
Registered: Apr 9, 2021 0:02:55 GMT -5
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Post by Sylvanie Autumndaughter on Apr 11, 2021 21:22:45 GMT -5
Behind the seven foot man trailed a barefoot lady, no taller than 5'4", a pair of small insectoid wings upon her back, jogging to keep up with his long strides in a dress made from what seemed to be various foliage of a forest. "Wait up!" She calls. "I'm finding it...hard to keep stride!" "Then try to be less slow!" Thuratiphel taunted, slowing down regardless. They made an odd pair, a large, armored man, covered in death imagery and fire, and a small woman, in a plant dress with tiny wings. "Try...having shorter legs." She pants slightly as she catches up, peering around the tent town for any person who might be able to tell them what is going on. "Well on the bright side, if we are stuck here, at the very least we won't run out of acquaintances..."
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