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 21:28:27 GMT -5
"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..." "Doesn't seem like it no..." Thuratiphel said absentmindedly, looking around for any sort of individual in charge.
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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 21:38:39 GMT -5
"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..." "Doesn't seem like it no..." Thuratiphel said absentmindedly, looking around for any sort of individual in charge. While he looked for supposed authority, Sylvanie looks for...well, anyone. Anyone who might know something, or anyone she might recognize... ...her stomach growls. Perhaps even someone with a bit of food, if they'd spare it? She still had yet to eat. However, whichever she found first would no doubt distract from the other for a time, so she just kept her eyes peeled for anyone who looked knowledgeable.
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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 12, 2021 4:35:07 GMT -5
"Doesn't seem like it no..." Thuratiphel said absentmindedly, looking around for any sort of individual in charge. While he looked for supposed authority, Sylvanie looks for...well, anyone. Anyone who might know something, or anyone she might recognize... ...her stomach growls. Perhaps even someone with a bit of food, if they'd spare it? She still had yet to eat. However, whichever she found first would no doubt distract from the other for a time, so she just kept her eyes peeled for anyone who looked knowledgeable. "Hungry?" Thuratiphel asked, looking down at Sylvanie. "That sounds like a good goal. Let's see if we can find you something to eat." Thuratiphel looked around for the cook tent, more than likely the largest tent.
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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 12, 2021 15:41:53 GMT -5
While he looked for supposed authority, Sylvanie looks for...well, anyone. Anyone who might know something, or anyone she might recognize... ...her stomach growls. Perhaps even someone with a bit of food, if they'd spare it? She still had yet to eat. However, whichever she found first would no doubt distract from the other for a time, so she just kept her eyes peeled for anyone who looked knowledgeable. "Hungry?" Thuratiphel asked, looking down at Sylvanie. "That sounds like a good goal. Let's see if we can find you something to eat." Thuratiphel looked around for the cook tent, more than likely the largest tent. "That seems like a good plan." She says, putting a hand on her growling stomach, looking around town for anywhere they might have food.
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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 14, 2021 16:05:04 GMT -5
Sylvanie walks back into town, taking a sip from the river before she gets into town proper. She looks around for people, and then turns back to look at Thuratiphel. "Alright, where should we start?"
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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 14, 2021 17:16:26 GMT -5
Sylvanie walks back into town, taking a sip from the river before she gets into town proper. She looks around for people, and then turns back to look at Thuratiphel. "Alright, where should we start?" "Perhaps the local witch? They tend to be in the know about these sort of things."
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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 14, 2021 17:28:47 GMT -5
Sylvanie walks back into town, taking a sip from the river before she gets into town proper. She looks around for people, and then turns back to look at Thuratiphel. "Alright, where should we start?" "Perhaps the local witch? They tend to be in the know about these sort of things." "That's true but I have no clue where we would find such a witch, or if there is one." Sylvanie said, looking over the many tents and few partially wooden buildings. "It isn't like she has a witch's tower here."
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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 14, 2021 17:33:32 GMT -5
"Perhaps the local witch? They tend to be in the know about these sort of things." "That's true but I have no clue where we would find such a witch, or if there is one." Sylvanie said, looking over the many tents and few partially wooden buildings. "It isn't like she has a witch's tower here." "When you've been alive as long as I have, you find that witches will find a way to ply their craft. Towers simply make it harder for them to be attacked by the more superstitious of the world. Come, I believe there is one in a tent here."
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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 14, 2021 17:43:04 GMT -5
"That's true but I have no clue where we would find such a witch, or if there is one." Sylvanie said, looking over the many tents and few partially wooden buildings. "It isn't like she has a witch's tower here." "When you've been alive as long as I have, you find that witches will find a way to ply their craft. Towers simply make it harder for them to be attacked by the more superstitious of the world. Come, I believe there is one in a tent here." Sylvanie shrugs. "I shall trust you then! Let's go!" She says, gesturing for him to lead the way.
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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 Apr 16, 2021 20:47:13 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. Nine nodded, "Yes I know of that place... though I never been there myself. I've only really been in Isra before," she said, her voice trailing off in to silence thereafter. Nine didn't really understand any of the words Mint spoke, and could only guess at the implications of them, otherwise so she seemed unsure of what to say from there on. After a decent length of silence Nine would bid her farewell quietly should Mint have nothing else to say, before heading off to sleep. As she left Mint's last few words were on her mind. Was she the greatest sorcerer left after the flood? She could hardly believe it, having known and still knowing Grandma, but the more she thought of it the more likely it seemed.
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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 18, 2021 15:37:43 GMT -5
Mint spent a lot of time with their silent companion. The conversation fizzled, and Mint ceased to pry. Instead, their focus was on listening to the fire, trying to find the words that made sense of everything. But nothing. And then Mint stopped trying, got up, and saw they were alone. They sighed and went looking for the tent they were appointed to.
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Grandma
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 144
Age: Appears to be in her 80's
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Appearance: An elderly woman with a wiry frame who most notably possesses unnatural height, standing at well over seven feet tall even when hunched over her cane. Her hair is grayish-white and normally done up in a bun and her eyes are also gray in color. Her skin is very pale and has an almost grayish hue to it. Her nails are long, black, and sharpened at the tip.
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Equipment: She wears a deep purple robe that has sleeves that extend far beyond her hands. Her hands are covered with fine gloves of black silk and she wears one ring on each, one having a purple stone set in it and the other a piece of onyx. Carrying an ornate cane of orellium, Grandma can use it to increase her magical channeling as well as assist in deflecting others' spells with it. The cane itself is black and covered in numerous ornate, but tiny runes. The cap on the cane is a purplish-colored gem. On her wrist is a silver bracelet with a ruby in it that Grandma uses for communication with others who own similar bracelets.
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Skills and Abilities: Skilled at knitting!
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Biography: While the details of Grandma's past are shrouded in mystery, since first meeting Naoki she has served essentially one role, that of advisor. While her titles have varied as Naoki moved up the social ladder of Isra, her continued support, and assistance she offered to Naoki have never wavered.
Even following the destruction of Isra, Grandma continues to follow and offer guidance to Lady Naoki as they attempt to rebuild from the wreckage.
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Allegiances: Naoki
Place of Residence: Port Argentium
Registered: Mar 16, 2021 19:51:53 GMT -5
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Post by Grandma on Jun 6, 2021 20:58:29 GMT -5
It was a particularly nice evening, there was a lovely breeze blowing out tonight and it brought in the fresh salty smell of the ocean. It was so nice in fact that Grandma had decided it would be a waste to spend the whole night bundled away in her tent. To remedy that, she had gotten some strapping young lads to bring her rocking chair over to the bonfire. She was thus rocking away in it and knitting, her pair of needles clacking together rhythmically as she watched the residents of Port Argentium scurry about. It had been a while since she’d knitted something. She’d done it frequently at the Midnight Sun but since moving into more government-minded positions, well… There’d simply been other things taking up her time.
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Alden
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 266
Age: 53(?)
Appearance: The reference image is a commissioned piece and is accurate.
Alden is 6 even, with shoulder-length messy black hair, and several days worth of beard stubble. He is handsome, with a powerful jaw, mid-set cheekbones, and a perpetual grin that makes him seem younger than he really is. His bright green eyes, constantly sparkle with barely contained mirth. He has the lithe well-muscled body of a swordsman, and he moves with considerable grace and dexterity.
If one were to do a more thorough examination of Alden's eyes they may notice a further detail. Around the outside edge of his iris, there's an intricate series of minuscule grey runes.
Underneath his shirt, Alden's skin is a mass of scar tissue. Starting from just below his neckline, there is very little space that does not sport some relic of a past injury. A particularly observant person may also note that among these scars, some are a bright scarlet. These scarlet scars form an intricate series of runes hiding amidst the rest of the scars.
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Equipment: Alden's general loadout when he goes fighting consists of the following:
A twin set of enchanted shortswords. The simple straight blades are unnatural dark, absorbing rather than reflecting light. Giving the enchanted steel an appearance closer to cold iron. The guard has the Isran sun emblem emblazoned in a medallion shape just above the guard, which is wrapped in simple leather. The enchantments increase their sharpness and durability, as well as being able to ignite the blood of anything that he has pierced with either blade.
Numerous braces and hidden throwing knives all over his body. At one point, these were also enchanted but when the calamity struck he didn't have time to grab his original set. So these are all well-made but ultimately mundane weapons. Still, with his strength and skill, they can be quite deadly.
Unfortunately, at present, he is also missing his armour. His preferred armour is leather dyed in mottled black and greys, with strike plates sewn between layers for added protection. His old set was also enchanted for increased protection from physical and magical attacks.
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Skills and Abilities: Alden is, for lack of a better term, a weapon master. He has been trained to use almost any weapon you can think to name. Relentless daily training with each, with extraordinarily demanding expectations on performance and harsh incentives for failure giving a level of skill with most of them that make him formidable.
However, his preferred style involves twin short swords. While he is skilled with all of his weapons thanks to training, he discovered a natural talent with the blade. His level of skill when wielding his short swords is on another level entirely, nearly transcendent in his skill.
On top of that, he is a living magical enchantment. Carved into his body are a variety of runes that grant him numerous innate abilities. He is inhumanly strong, around three to four times stronger than a man in a similar state of physical fitness would be. This also applies to his endurance, speed, reflexes, and other physical traits. He also has regenerative abilities exceeding human normal, able to heal from even broken bones in a matter of days rather than weeks.
In addition, he is immune to most poisons and resistant to the rest. The runes etched into his eyes ensure he can see the same no matter the level of light and reveal magical auras to him. Runes along his back make him impossible to scry on directly and provide him a measure of resistance to magical attack. This, combined with training, also makes him immune to magical mental influence. Finally, runes on his feet dampen any sound he might make taking his already considerable stealth abilities to another level entirely.
Speaking of his training also included all of the skills one would think an Assassin should have. He knows how to mix poisons, move without being seen or making noise, scale walls, lie or disguise himself, pick locks, pick pockets, just for starters. He is also quite skilled at clerical work and he has some diplomacy ability after thirty years leading the Sun Marshals.
Beyond all of this, Alden also possesses an incredible amount of willpower. If Alden decides that he will do something, there is very little that can stop him from doing it. In fact, at present, the only thing that could deter him from a course of action is Captain Naoki. The former Empress is the only person he has any loyalty to and he often values her judgement on matters above his own.
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Biography: Alden was born to a small farming family in an out-of-the-way village. His parents named him Toan and until he was five his destiny was most likely to live and die on the same farm he was born. However, that all changed when Pride arrived.
The leader of a criminal group known as The Set, Pride offered his parents a sum of money that would make any poor farmer's heart stop. Enough money to change their lives forever and all he wanted was Alden, one of nearly a dozen children. A child that wasn't even old enough to help with chores around the farm yet. And the man as so nice, he wanted a ward that he could train to be a retainer how bad of a life could that be?
The answer to that question was basically Hell. Pride was a potent alchemist, enchanter, and scholar and he had but one goal in mind. To create a superior warrior. Alden was subjected to hellish daily training along with six other children. Forced to learn to fight with every weapon, against any foe, in any condition. His limbs were broken deliberately and he was forced to continue to fight and train in constant agony. And this was among the mildest of the ways he was trained.
The culmination of the training came when he was twelve. When he and the six other children were locked in a room and told that the only one who got to leave... was the only one to survive. Of course, surviving was hardly a reward.
Once Pride had only the strongest of the children left he proceeded to the next step of his plan. Alden's memories and identity were seared away as Pride carved runes into his flesh and his very soul. Transforming the young man into a living magical artifact and keeping him on a drug that suppressed all of his emotions.
From there Alden became the new Wrath of the set, a weapon meant only to slay those he was told to. That may have been all he would be but Pride made a miscalculation, Alden's runes helped him to build an immunity to the dosage meant to keep his emotions in check, a weakness made worse by Pride having let him keep his anger thinking it would make him a better weapon. Eventually, events conspired and Alden snapped when the only member of The Set to be kind to him, Sloth, was killed for threatening to expose Pride.
Alden, driven into a deeper rage than ever before killed Envy, Lust, Gluttony, and even disembowelled Pride. Greed manage to escape and Alden slaughtered everything in his path trying to catch the man. Eventually succeeding in his goal. Bereft of a target for his rage and the chase having left him in the middle of nowhere Alden finally collapsed the trauma and coming off of the dosage causing him to bury most of his memories.
He wound up in Isra where his talents and skill soon earned him the eye of the then, criminal Madam Naoki. She recruited him as one of her enforcers a role he continued as her power expanded and grew until she finally became Empress. His reward for his loyalty? Appointment to the head of The Sun Marshals her special police force, effectively making him her right-hand man.
During this time he also uncovered his own past and learned that Pride had survived, the man had made preparations for such an eventuality and his death only saw his soul moving to a phylactery as he became a lich.
Pride created a new Set, this time making each member just as he made Alden. Eventually, this culminated in Pride attacking Isra and his eventual, final defeat.
Decades have passed since that time and Alden, whose power kept him at his prime for years continued to serve Isra until the new calamity took him to The Island of Mists, his empress reduced to a captain and he now serving as her first mate.
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Allegiances: Naoki and Port Argentum
Place of Residence: Port Argentum
Registered: Mar 21, 2021 13:21:25 GMT -5
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Post by Alden on Jun 6, 2021 21:08:12 GMT -5
It did not take Alden particularly long to track down Grandma. She was one of the most recognizable figures in the camp, after all, one of the few remnants of leadership from the older world. Together with The Malachite Knight Alden makes his way through the camp. None think, or perhaps dare, to challenge him about his new waterlogged companion. Something that doesn't particularly shock Alden. He can hear the rumours being whispered about his scene at the feast was still a topic of much gossip. Gritting his teeth he approaches the bonfire and the rocking chair. The old woman who was neither of those things was knitting, now that was nostalgic he couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Gradman doing that. "Good evening Grandma, might I consult with you for a time?" He'd not tried to hide his approach so she surely saw him long before he came to a halt just a bit to her right, as directly in her line of sight as he can manage without standing in the fire.
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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 Jun 6, 2021 21:34:34 GMT -5
The Malachite Knight followed behind Alden, mirroring the human's movements. When Alden stopped, they stopped to the human's right. Their armor was a metallic jade sheen, that glittered brilliantly in the fire's light. It was highly decorated with brass-like inlays with the artwork of mythical creatures. The brass-like pommel of their greatsword, flickered in the light, reflecting the shape of a lion-like creatures.
What was interesting, was the fact that the knight's armor was impossibly tight around their body, no human could fit into armor like that and move. There was no easy way to tell what or who the knight was, they were certainly humanoid and easily stood around Alden's height. It was difficult to say who was taller, given the knight's armor.
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Grandma
Dedicated
Roleplay posts: 144
Age: Appears to be in her 80's
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Appearance: An elderly woman with a wiry frame who most notably possesses unnatural height, standing at well over seven feet tall even when hunched over her cane. Her hair is grayish-white and normally done up in a bun and her eyes are also gray in color. Her skin is very pale and has an almost grayish hue to it. Her nails are long, black, and sharpened at the tip.
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Equipment: She wears a deep purple robe that has sleeves that extend far beyond her hands. Her hands are covered with fine gloves of black silk and she wears one ring on each, one having a purple stone set in it and the other a piece of onyx. Carrying an ornate cane of orellium, Grandma can use it to increase her magical channeling as well as assist in deflecting others' spells with it. The cane itself is black and covered in numerous ornate, but tiny runes. The cap on the cane is a purplish-colored gem. On her wrist is a silver bracelet with a ruby in it that Grandma uses for communication with others who own similar bracelets.
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Skills and Abilities: Skilled at knitting!
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Biography: While the details of Grandma's past are shrouded in mystery, since first meeting Naoki she has served essentially one role, that of advisor. While her titles have varied as Naoki moved up the social ladder of Isra, her continued support, and assistance she offered to Naoki have never wavered.
Even following the destruction of Isra, Grandma continues to follow and offer guidance to Lady Naoki as they attempt to rebuild from the wreckage.
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Allegiances: Naoki
Place of Residence: Port Argentium
Registered: Mar 16, 2021 19:51:53 GMT -5
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Post by Grandma on Jun 6, 2021 21:59:38 GMT -5
Taking note of Alden and his companion a fair bit before they were in front of her, Grandma’s attention was mostly focused on the suit of armor Alden had brought with him. She’d certainly not seen it at camp prior to this nor had it been on the Depravity. It was rather eye-catching so it would have been rather hard to miss. Sitting up a bit straighter when it was clear Alden was here to speak with her, the old woman offered him and the knight a faint smile.
“Why, of course. I always have time for you, Alden.” Her voice was warm and inviting, her demeanor almost unrecognizable from the feast when she’d shadowed Naoki. “What exactly were you looking to consult with me about?”
Her gaze flickered to the suit of armor behind Alden as she took in some of the finer details of its craftsmanship. The armor itself was in exquisite condition for crossing the ocean, so she could only guess at what type of exotic material it was made of. She assumed Alden was here because of the armor, but if he was there was no point in thinking too hard about what it might be till she’d heard him out.
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