 Topic: The Lost Isle of Kallistia [M] [PM] [Full] [Movement Three -- Horizon's Fluid Line]
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 Broken AlleluiaLay your armor down ~high on "N"    total posts: 701 since: Oct 2005
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 Dec 06, 07 at 02:56PM |
The Three’s World, Anatola
Bronzefield, within the province of Terranvale
Iltud 27, 838 A.P.
“Mommy!”
The cabin door banged open, throwing dust and sunlight across the wooden floor. Perched on a stool by the hearth, a woman looked up from her stitching in time to catch a last-minute glimpse of her daughter before the young child barreled into her chest and began to cry in earnest.
“Mommy, they was mean! They took my stick and said that only boys could play troll hunter. It ain’t true!” the girl bewailed, clutching her mother’s shawl with small tan fingers. “I can beat them at it, cause I’m faster and I’m not a stupid head, but they still ain’t lettin’ me play with ‘em!”
Carefully, the woman untangled her distressed child and set aside her sewing. Pulling the girl onto her lap, she smoothed her burgundy-brown hair away from her forehead, and dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. Her daughter’s face was smeared with dirt and tears; a bruise was forming on her cheekbone – she had clearly insisted on staying, and had irked the hotheaded boys. She imagined which ones had done it – no doubt those rascals from the stonemason – and chose her words vigilantly. One had to be wary when addressing a distressed six-year-old.
“Shall I tell you a story, Tanar?” asked the mother kindly, enfolding the unhappy youngster in her arms and rocking tenderly. Tanar narrowed her eyes, pouting out her full bottom lip.
“Will them boy’s mothers tell them any stories?” she asked critically, eyes dripping with tears. Inside, the mother laughed. She tapped her daughter on the nose.
“Not at all. Only real troll hunters get to hear this legend,” she said in complete seriousness.
The daughter contemplated, fiddling with her jacket. Then she nodded, hiccupping as she settled down against her mother’s breast. Her mother smiled, sighing inwardly, and chose her tale. It was one her own mother had told her, and her grandmother had told her mother. It was one that all children must be told eventually – for it spoke of the past, and the past is to be learned from.
The ocean waves beat upon the shore of an island, nine hundred miles from coast to coast. The pearly white sand slopes up to plains of delicate flowers and golden soil. Emerald forests, crisp with life and bounty, sweep the breadth of the island, giving away to red mountains that shoot high into the sky.
O many noble and wise bards tell stories of this mystical island. “Life comes from the Paradise,” they say, “and it is to the Paradise that all go when the hand of Death closes their sleepy eyes.”
Kallistia is the island’s name – an old place blessed with rich wilderness, unnatural beauty, and a mysterious history.
There was a race of humble beings called the Svyanto, who once inhabited this lush isle. They stood proud, slimmer than the average human with clear skin bronzed by the sun. Muscled and intelligent, they built intricate citadels in the forests and lowlands, farming the fertile soil, excavating minerals and gems, and penning the first books. Svyanto were good-natured and brave, often celebrating just for the joy of company and good food. They were athletic, never contented unless they had conquered the most challenging heights and depths. The island never failed to challenge them back, seeming to sprout new trees and canyons to challenge the children of the isle. Yet there was one tree no one dared to climb.
In the thick forests of the island grew a gigantic tree revered as the Tree of Living. Immense as it was sacred, its roots were said to have spanned the breadth of the island, its branches providing shade and shelter for a mile in any direction. This was a holy tree, one that brought down the magic from the heavens to make Kallistia exquisite and fertile. But to the ancient tribes of Kallistia, this was not its only use.
At the golden zenith of the Svyanto civilization, a crown was fashioned from the highest branches of the Tree of Living. This crown, prepared beneath the light of waxing moon, was decorated with twisting russet vines, small yellow leaves, and silver berries that carried the sweetness of the morning sunrise. It was called Mirta, the Crown of Eternal Blessings. With the sacred Crown, brimming with the magic of the Tree of Living the Svyanto prospered for many more centuries. The power of Mirta made the wheat grow golden, the orchard trees laden with plump fruit, and the silver fish jump gleefully in the streams. Gems sparkled, houses were strong…
“You mean things ain’t ever bad in Kalstia?” asked Tanar dubiously. She had long since abandoned her moping, and perched intently on her mother’s knee. The story of the Svyanto sank into her mind, feeding her greedy, young need for adventure.
“Kallistia,” her mother corrected, tactfully avoiding the question. This did not satisfy Tanar.
The girl rolled her eyes. “Mommy, things’d be stupid if it was good all the time! Then you ain’t got room for heroes ‘n troll hunters.”
“Well then, missy,” her mother said, pretending to be exasperated. She pulled her daughter off her lap and marched her over to the kitchen table, where three baskets of corn were waiting to be husked. “Since you know so much, why don’t you help me husk this corn, and I will tell you of the bad things that came to Kallistia.”
Tanar obliged.
Prosperity is a fickle mistress. For one moment, she will lavish your kingdom with her touch. But her own ego is not easily satiated, and unless proper sacrifice is made, she will rip her blessings away from your kingdom as the merciless ocean erodes the rocky cliffs.
The Svyanto, wrapped in the reward and peace of their prospering kingdom, overlooked this. They held grand parties, competitions, and their laughter rang out between the trees. Between the happy harvest, magnificent galas, and richness of their existence, the incense of the temple grew cold; the alter – dusty.
Thus the Children of Divinity – sons and daughters of the Divine Goddess and God – came to from upon the lavish people.
Far across the ocean, on a mountainous island riddled with steaming lakes and dark holes, there existed a tribe of people called the Lindi. They were thin, hardly more than bones wrapped with muscles and skin with patches of oily scales. Their noses were flat, their tongues red and pointed. Their eyes, which shone with an inborn malice, were slits that glowed in the dark. They were snakes in mind and body, cunning and devious in all their ways. A Lind was more likely to stab his own brother for his riches than earn his own.
Only their god, the Serpent Bearer who created all the snakes of the world from his veins, kept the Lindi from dragging the tribe into extinction. In truth, they were more devout in their worship than the fair-haired Svyanto, and this gave them strength.
The Serpent Bearer was a god of poison and desecration. He abhorred all things pure and beautiful. Thus, the Svyanto of Kallistia were a thorn in his ideal existence, where the lands of the world rotted beneath his horrid touch. But an ancient pact with his divine cousins, stating that he could not leave the waters of the ocean, kept this wish from fulfillment.
Yet Kallistia was an island. This was within his reach. He contacted one of his cousins, named Ereki, the Child of the Wilderness, and whispered in her ear his darkest desire. She was disenchanted by his proposition, yet the lack of proper respect shown by the Svyanto who lived and feasted on her island, caused her to listen to the Serpent Bearer’s plan. Driven by her acrimony, Ereki agreed, and lifted the magical protection around Kallistia.
“Make me a deal, Serpent Bearer,” said Ereki, her voice echoing with the sound of wolf howls. “Give my people a year to amend their ways. If they fail…then teach them your lesson.”
So he sat on his mountain throne and waited, and the Lindi bowed at his feet.
A year grew round and waned away. Still the Svyanto lulled in the richness of their island, blissfully unaware of the dark threat that loomed on their horizon. The Serpent Bearer too, lingered and plotted. He shared his diagrams with his worshippers, eager to please, the Lindi set to work constructing ritual circles, etching malevolent glyphs into the basalt rock. They dove into the River, reaching back in time to summon their prehistoric cousins to the present. Together, the Lindi raised an army of monstrous reptilians.
And as the winter waned, a thousand pairs of baneful, glowing eyes turned across the ocean -- towards Kallistia, where the Svyanto feasted.
The woman sneezed, wiping her watery eyes. The stench of onion rose off the chopping board, irritating her sinuses. Planted at the hearth where a healthy fire tickled the bottom of a black stew pot, Tanar stirred the soup carefully, her skirt tied back to prevent any stray embers from catching. She had adamantly refused going with her sisters for the afternoon milking, and had offered to help in return for more of the story.
When her mother stopped, Tanar turned and frowned. "Keep going," she ordered, adding a "Please!" as an afterthought.
Her mother smiled. "Are you certain, sweet? You must be getting bored, and the next part is very frightening. I do not want you to be scared."
Tanar puffed out her chest, grinning impishly. "I'm a troll hunter, `member? I ain't scared of a story."
"If you insist, darling."
They came across the oceans on inky black waves, swooping in from the northwest just as the frosts of winter had thawed off the lakes. Slacken from their warm winter of roasted hams and cozy fireside evenings, the Serpent Bearer’s army took the Svyanto by surprise, appearing out of the early dawn like nightmares from the past. The initial attack demolished eight outlying bastions, slaying thousands of Svyants and spreading the taint of the Serpent Bearer across the beautiful land. The Lindi were sleepless and driven by their god’s thirst for desecration. Even after a full day passed, the army did not rest. They marched onward, towards the interior, where the Tree of Living grew.
Shocked out of their peaceful reverie, the remaining Svyanto scrambled to erect a proper defense against the coming onslaught. They gathered under the Queen Ihna, begging for the assistance and blessing of the Crown and the Tree.
For once, the Crown was silent. Its leaves withered and its berries grew sour. Like the child Ereki, it had abandoned the island.
Another day of slaughter passed, and though the Svyanto managed to use their natural forest terrain to create a barricade between themselves and the encroaching poison…little could stop the god and his titanic minions. Colossal reptiles with feet a large as wagons smashed stone and wood alike, and Svyanto died gory and terrible deaths in the maws of beasts with teeth as deadly as swords. The blood of the vain, hopeless people soaked deep into Kallistia’s soil.
Tanar had stopped stirring. Her eyes were wide, her attention fixed on her mother’s unreadable face. The sad fate of the Svyanto played out in her mind, and for a dreadful instant she could smell the stench of poison and hear the screams of the dying.
Her mother watched her carefully. “Shall I continue?”
Tanar nodded, and kept stirring.
On the dawning of the third day, all that stood between the Army of Snakes and the dormant Tree was Citadel Wyn’dunthe, the vast, spiraling palace of the Kallistian queen and the only building on the islands protected by a wall, however decorative. Within the walls, less than seven hundred Svyanto remained cowered in fear, weeping quietly upon soft pillows or beating the frescoed walls in unclenched rant and rave.
There is no deeper pain, sing the noble and wise bard, than the pain of knowing you have blundered, and you are to die with no hope in the world of forgiveness, for your skies are darkened by your own folly.
As the sun peered through the thick, solemn trees the desperate eyes of the Svyanto scanned the foliage, searching for signs of the Army. All was silent. The thick, contagious clouds of poison which rose from the reptiles skin like steam clouded the forest like smog, creeping closer to the outer wall of the pale Wyn`dunthe. Within the cloud, they knew their demise lurked – ruthless Lindi warriors, and massive dinosaurs thirst for the sweet, Svyanto blood.
The infiltration began clandestinely, as small vipers, black as midnight, crept into the mighty throne hall where the last of the Svyanto lay barricaded. They descended from the vines dripping from the high wooden ceiling, their sights set on the woman huddled on the throne – Iryva, the current Kallistian queen. Like her people, she was crippled by her own idiocy, wide-eyed and terrified of the empty void left by the loss of the blessings of the Crown and the Tree. A shadow of her former beauty, she sat trembling on the edge of the throne, keeping a strong face for her people, yet scared behind her public mask. A false, broken mimic of a proper sovereign.
Amongst the clustered masses was a young woman named Theone. Her heart was of a higher plane, and with her unclouded eyes she saw the truth. With her ears she heard the cries of the forest, and felt how the blessed power of the Tree and the Crown had waned slowly, as did the influence of the Child Ereki.
Yet unlike her people, Theone saw the greed of her people like a black spot marring their angelical existence. She witnessed it at work, and saw the punishment skulk across the forest floor, shrouded in violet smog.
A cry echoed from the throne. Plummeting from the ceiling was a thin black snake. Like a whip it descended upon Queen Iryva, lashing against her shoulder. Before a hand could be raised, it struck, sinking its fangs into her neck. Another viper fell, and then a third. All together, five assassins dove from the vines above, striking the screaming queen. Iryva was dead before the fifth snake had time to bit – so potent was the poison.
She tumbled from the throne, and Mirta, the Crown of Eternal Blessings, fell from her head. It purposefully wheeled across the floor and came to rest at Theone’s bare feet. And she knew her calling.
Before the vipers could target her, Theone seized hold of Mirta and placed it on her head, sprinting towards the archway leading inward, towards the Tree of Living. The shadowy reptiles slithered quickly behind her, snapping at her heels. Beneath her feet, Theone felt vibrations as the enormous, animated lizards bashed into the walls, screeching their raucous battle cries. Theone ran faster.
The hallway ended in a circular balcony, looking down upon the gigantic roots of the Tree, whose trunk extended thousands of feet above her mortal head. Without ceasing, Theone catapulted over the railing, collapsing upon the thick undergrowth. It supported her weight like a net, and on it she ran towards the Tree. As the vipers slithered down the wall, salivating toxin, Theone dove forward, slamming her hand against the Tree, calling from the depths of her mighty heart…a prayer to Ereki, the forgotten Child.
Several things happened in unison. Upon her head, Mirta sprang to life, vines adjusting to fit Theone’s head, leaves glowing golden and berries glimmering silver. Its power poured into her like thick honey. The Tree trembled; showering sticks and leaves upon the ground, burying the vipers. In her mind, Theone saw a woman, as beautiful as the orange-gold autumn leaves, with all the innocence of a fawn and the thundering terror of a wild waterfall. The woman reached out, graceful fingers pressing against the young Svyanto’s forehead.
“For countless years I have waited in sadness for a pure hearted spirit to pay respects to my name, for I am fertility and raw beauty, the sweetness of your foods. Though I acquiesced to the Bearer, I do not wish to see my isle destroyed. I have chosen you. Will you play martyr for your people, potent Theone?”
Here, the tragic tale of Kallistia fades into legend, blurred with time and incalculable retellings. Some versions say Theone became an angel whose divine lightening struck down the Army of Snakes and sent the Serpent Bearer back to his rocky outpost. Others speak of the Tree that swallowed the Crowned girl and used the power of her spirit to imprison the demons in a cage of roots, deep beneath the soil. Yet all agree whatever came to pass brought about the end of the Svyanto, for their civilization vanished, and the bountiful island of Kallistia vanished from the earth. It is now lost to the mortal touch, belonging only to Ereki.
However, many a troubadour will tell you this: the island is alive, somewhere beyond the blue horizon, slumbering in wait for the fated day when mortals will once against walk the white shores.
The mother smiled, sighing happily. Sharing the legend of Kallistia never failed to bring soft warmth to her breast. Rising from her daughter’s bedside, she closed the shutters against the evening chill, fitting the wooden latch snuggly into to place. Nestled against her pillow, Tanar watched sleepily.
“Thank you,” she mumbled drowsily. Her mother kissed her forehead, smoothing away her hair.
“Thank you for listening, darling. The fable of Kallistia is one that must be felt and understood, and I can tell you certainly have enjoyed it,” she whispered as her daughter slipped into sleep. “Carry it with you – let it sink into your mind like stones in a pond. This will not be the only time you will hear of that place.”
Twelve Years Later
Tern, a sea port on the shores of the Sea of Dusk, Terranvale
Kshi 14, 850 A.P.
All across the kingdom, the gossip buzzed with two names – Kallistia, and House Jette. The lost island was discovered, they say, chanced upon by a wayward ship under the House flag. It must have risen out of the ocean, or descended from the cloudy heavens! Surely, House Jette is a blessed house, to have the Rights of Docking upon such a mythical place. Are the legends true? Do the giant serpents still roam the land?
They – the family – are setting sail, come the summer, say the traveling merchants to the willing ear. I hear they have been building a fortress on the island, as grand as any on the mainland. The Lord Jette hopes to make the island his own.
Well, I hear a powerful mage is with them, and created a huge wall out of the very bedrock to defend against the beasts in the unknown north. The most powerful mage in the World, who walks among gods...
I heard they plan to cleanse the island or all of them poisons and find the mysterious Living Tree! Imagine how powerful they might become...
Oh, is that so? Well, I have heard the most wonderful news of all – they are looking for help.
---
“Attend me, Tanar.”
A young woman rose from her perch on the windowsill, straightening her black tunic as she crossed to kneel before the regal lady poised at the writing desk. Impish blue eyes peeped out from beneath flyaway burgundy bangs, observing the lady’s face with careful attention. Energy quivered down her spine – whatever the situation, the girl was excited, and could barely contain herself.
She spoke properly, but with the faintest echo of a country lisp. Her sword clinked against the stone as she bowed. “Yes, my lady Ilanna?”
Rudy red lips drew into a smile, and Lady Ilanna of House Jette bade her attending companion rise. She was a short and delicate woman with thick, silky brown ringlets tamed around a poised face. Her dress was made of golden lawn, worn over a thinner dress of claret cotton. In her fine-boned hand was a quill that neatly scratched black letters upon new white parchment.
“Take these notices,” bid the lady, gesturing to an orderly stack of papers on the corner of the desk, “and post them in prime locations about the market place and docks, where the public will see them. Do it now, and send Kayle to me as well, if you find come across her.”
“Of course,” Tanar obliged, taking the notes into her arm. Absently, she skimmed the top line of calligraphy as she backed towards the door. The message made her pause:
Attention: Seeking Brave Adventurers
House Jette is actively seeking out courageous and able-bodied travelers to journey under the House crest to the Isle of New Kallistia…
“…hired help, milady?” Tanar asked dubiously, taking advantage of her rights as Ilanna’s consult to speak freely. “Mercenaries are a vicious lot t’ be dealing with. Certainly House Jette can provide its own protection? We’ve plenty of rangers and swordsmen who can be exploring.” Tanar wanted nothing so silly to mar the voyage to the island she had dreamed about.
Lady Ilanna’s eyes twinkled, and she rose from her perch, straightening her skirts. Her voice was youthful, almost teasing, though her crisp green eyes were serious. “Do you doubt my lord’s judgment, Mistress Sablebrow? My husband is well aware of the dangers poised by hiring mercenaries, though he also knows that we cannot venture to the Lost Island with adequate soldiers and leave enough here, in reserve, to defend our farmers for the winter. We need external assistance.”
She paused by the window, looking out over the bustling streets of Port Tern. Looking back at her quick-witted attendant, she grinned. “Perhaps they will come as you did, talking about Kallistia like it twas a sacred place, all full of wanderlust and starry-eyed wonder.”
Tanar narrowed her eyes, lifting her chin imperiously. “I had no stars in my eyes. I am a calm and levelheaded individual. These hire-hands of yours had best be the same. Bravado and twinkling eyeballs won’t earn them my respect!”
“Off with you, impertinent girl,” Ilanna commanded, waving her hand towards the door. “If those notices are not posted by noon, I will have you mending tablecloths the entire voyage! Thousands of minuscule stitches with only a single candle to provide light, and the world’s most aggravating needle. Do not doubt me.”
Tanar paled, and with a quick bow, fled the room.
Attention: Seeking Brave Adventurers
House Jette is actively seeking out courageous and able-bodied travelers to journey under the House crest to the Isle of New Kallistia. Those interested must be literate and in good health. Those accepted will head up an exploratory squad that will set out to map the island shortly after arriving. They will continue to serve House Jette for as long as needed, and will be able to leave after six months of devout service. Those interested must report to House Jette by tomorrow evening, where the Lord and Lady shall address. It is suggested that the fainthearted or those of weak body remain behind.
This message was edited by Broken Alleluia on Mar 19 2008.
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Tell me why we live like this
Keep me safe inside
Your arms like towers
Tower over me
Tower over me
~The Folly of Moraine~
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Broken AlleluiaLay your armor down ~high on "N" total posts: 701 since: Oct 2005
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Dec 06, 07 at 03:20PM |
 Welcome to The Lost Isle of Kallistia, a legendary place dominated by raw wilderness, ancient ruins, and beasts left to breed without the exterminating eye of humans. In this RP, you will play the role of a group of unsuspecting adventurers who sign into the service of House Jette (described below) and sail to Kallistia, where the adventure unfolds. Whether you remain on the good side or help to destroy the island is up to you!
Let's get some rules out of the way...
1. Absolutely no god-modding. I will hunt you character down with a freaking T-Rex and eat you if I catch you god-modding. We are all mortal, so let us keep it that way.
2. Do not control another person's character without their permission. For the purpose of proper posting, you can make them respond to simple "yes" or "no" questions when it is clear that is something their character would do. If it goes beyond that, wait for them to respond themselves.
3. Please go here and read the RP forum rules. They all apply here. 
4. If you are going to deviate from the main storyline laid out by moi, please drop me PM and let me know. This is just so I don't have a freak attack if your character is suddenly jumping off mountains instead of adventuring. Same applies for switching sides.
Try your best to follow these rules, and I hope this will be fun for you. If you do not abide, I will send you a warning. Strike two and I tell the mod. That is bad, just so you know...
Now! I will be controlling most of the NPCs as well as Tanar. You will be making your own special character, so I suggest you proceed to...
Character Creation
Below you will find some information that might be helpful when filling out your character sheet; shown below:
Neo Name: for convenience sake
Name: the full name of your character, first and last
Age: self explanatory =)
Appearance: use this space to describe what your character looks like. It came be however brief or detailed you want, but please keep it between 5-10 lines. Pictures are allowed, but keep the size reasonable or provide a link.
Occupation/Skills: what job does your character hold? What talents does he/she offer? For skills, see suggested list provided below.
Weapons/Equipment: note your weapon of choice (description is optional unless it is a special, custom weapon instead of simply “swords”), armor (same rules apply), as well as any out of the ordinary equipment you tote about, such as lock picks or a spyglass.
Calling: What factor, be it external or internal, drove you to Kallistia? Try for something original, instead of “I was bored” or “I felt like it”. The more depth you put into your character, the deeper they will sink into the storyline!
Background: what social class was your character born into: nobility, middle class, dirt-poor beggar? How about the location of your home: a simple farming hamlet or a bustling city? Add in family history: was he/she an only child, or were you lost in a cluster of siblings? Are your parents alive? All this and more, found right here. Now, I don’t need a biography – between 5-10 lines is fine.
Other: this spot is reserved for any other information that doesn’t fit into any of the previous categories. Any animal companions or magical familiars can also be described here; see below.
Writing Sample: this, above all else, is the most important part of the profile. Here, you need to provide a link to one of the following: either a post in a previous RP where you feel you have best demonstrated your writing style, a fanfiction account where I can sample your writing, or you can simply write a 10-line narrative describing...I don't know, a sunrise. XD
You can note that Personality has been left out – I ask that you leave it that way. You will have plenty of time during the RP to let us get to know your character, so no fretting! And I quote…
quote Amano Murokumo
It's funner to show people your character, rather than tell them.
Words of wisdom – live them. 
For assistance in filling out this sheet, I have including a number of informational posts over things such as religion, animal companions and familiars, magic, and the Jette Family. A map of the island will be added shortly. Note: you are not expected to read all of this unless you want to. I'm simply including it as reference material for those who care/require it. Do not complain that this is too complicated -- you do not have to memorize everything. This message was edited by Broken Alleluia on Jan 21 2008.
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Tell me why we live like this
Keep me safe inside
Your arms like towers
Tower over me
Tower over me
~The Folly of Moraine~
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quote quick quote edit quick edit del report
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Broken AlleluiaLay your armor down ~high on "N" total posts: 701 since: Oct 2005
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Dec 06, 07 at 03:23PM |
Skills During your childhood or as a result of an apprenticeship, you character has most likely acquired certain skills. Feel free to be creative and add in other skills you deem appropriate. I have simply provided a list of suggestions. Swordcraft (notable skill with a sword or similar slashing weapon) Lancecraft (notable skill with a lance of similar pole arm) Axecraft (see above, but with axes) Bowcraft (see above, but with ranged weapons) Macecraft (see above, but with bludgeoning weapons) Manna Manipulation (you are skilled at manipulating manna and applicable spells) Baraka Manipulation (as above, but with baraka) Animal Handling (able to calm, charm, and work well with animals) Athletics (you are skilled at climbing, swimming, jumping, and have high stamina) Acrobatics (you are particularly agile, good at balance and tumbling) First Aid (possesses medical training and are a competent nurse/doctor) Trickery (skilled at disguise, sleight of hand, and mimicry) Wilderness Lore (you are knowledgeable of the wilderness plants and environs) Book Learning (knowledgeable of historic events, royal bloodlines, and other bookish things) Culinary (you are good at working with food and getting the most out of ingredients) Roguish (good at opening locks and lurking unseen) Diplomat (a naturally born leader who is good at debating, solving issues, and group dynamics) As said, deviate. If you include something original in your profile, it is sure to impress me. =P Animal Companions and Magical Familiars There are a few key differences between the two aforementioned, which I why I saw fit to include a small section about them. Animal companions are much more common, and maintain the natural intelligence level of their kind. They are, however, unnaturally loyal to their friends, and are made stronger and more capable as a result. Animal companions are wise enough to understand more complex orders and commands than your run-of-the-mill creature. Due to their loyalty, they often fix their own routines to match those of their human companion. Any character can have one animal companion, choosing an animal that is common in the environment they were raised in (or wherever they would have found one). See my character Tanar’s profile for an example of an animal companion. Familiars, on the other hand, are considered to be magical creatures. They are elevated above their natural counterparts – bigger, smarter, and more cunning. They possess the ability to communicate telepathically with their mage-masters, and pass some of their own natural abilities on to their master. For example, a mage with a hawk familiar might possess unusually powerful eyesight as a result of his association with the far-seeing bird. A mage may have one familiar, and I have the right to veto your choice – i.e. no dragons, killer whales, exotic jungle cats, etc, unless you put your persuasive caps on and convince me. (Still, though…no dragons XD) This message was edited by Broken Alleluia on Dec 06 2007.
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Tell me why we live like this
Keep me safe inside
Your arms like towers
Tower over me
Tower over me
~The Folly of Moraine~
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quote quick quote edit quick edit del report
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Broken AlleluiaLay your armor down ~high on "N" total posts: 701 since: Oct 2005
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Dec 06, 07 at 03:25PM |
Religion
I'll keep this short -- the people of the Three's World believe the world was created by Spirit, the Vessel of Holy Fire. Spirit created the Divine Goddess and God, named Sophia and Alkaio respectively. From Sophia and Alkaio were borne nine children called the Band of Nine, the first and most divine of the Children. They also bore aspects, which embody their various forms. The Aspects and the Band of Nine are the most widely worshipped of the Children (which are worshipped in addition to the Goddess, God, and Spirit) and are shown below:
Divine Three and Aspects
Spirit – Vessel of Holy Fire
Alkaio – The God
Tama – The Son
Nuamond – The Protector
Kahvi – The Sage
Sophia – The Goddess
Soteria – The Maiden
Belladwnye – The Mother
Gerranona – The Crone
First Children -- Band of Nine
Kyrja – Child of Fire and Retribution
Pyress – Child of Growth and the Harvest
Meires – Child of Oceans and Fishfolk
Sigrun – Child of Death and the Unknown
Nolami – Child of Loyalty and Marriage (wife to Einar)
Ereki – Child of the Wilderness (wife to Laran)
Einar – Child of Warriors and Kings (husband to Nolami)
Laran – Child of Mountains and Stones (husband to Ereki)
Shii – Child of the Sky (sister to Ereki)
For anything else, PM me, and I'll give you other options. =D
Magic
Magic comes in two forms – manna and Baraka. Manna is the manifestation of light and law, while baraka is the manifestation of darkness and chaos. All mortals have a both manna and baraka inside them, though the ratios vary from person to person and are often reflected in their personality. Divine beings, like the Goddess and God, are composed entirely of manna, while evil demons like the Serpent Bearer are composed entirely of baraka. Most mortals have more manna than baraka, as there are inherently closer to the light and law. Spells require certain amounts of manna and baraka (though there are those who also require one or the other) and are cast by manipulating manna and baraka into varying forms like fire, water, wind, and earth. Spells can create magical shields, are used for listening, and are, simply, a manipulation of the manna and baraka within an person. This is why “magically talented” people have higher quantities of the two than your average sword-slinger.
If you character casts spells, use your imagination, as well as the small list below.
Manna Domains
Water
Fire
Healing
Shielding/Barriers
Telepathy
Clairvoyance
Banishing
Baraka Domains
Air
Earth
Infliction
Shattering
Teleportation
Polymorphism
Summoning
Like I said, be creative. I certainly won’t punish you for making something up that is not mentioned here, as long as you don’t god-mod. Remember…T-Rex!
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Tell me why we live like this
Keep me safe inside
Your arms like towers
Tower over me
Tower over me
~The Folly of Moraine~
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quote quick quote edit quick edit del report
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Broken AlleluiaLay your armor down ~high on "N" total posts: 701 since: Oct 2005
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Dec 06, 07 at 03:28PM |
House Jette
Established in 725 A.P. (Advent's Passing), the Jette family holds land in Terranvale, near Port Tern. They are well known for their fair ruling, their high standards of education, and their infamous library. It was a ship out of Tern that first beached upon Kallistia, thus (after an intense legal struggle) the Rights of Docking (the law that states who is to first land and establish hold on a new island) were granted to House Jette in 848 A.P., two years before the RP begins. Recently, their second son Antonio has befallen a strange and unexplained illness -- one that the public believes is the true cause behind the family's urgent need to sail to Kallistia, where mages say the cure might lie.
The third and current generation of the Jette family is described below:
Lord Diarmid – a wise and stout man who cares much for the preservation of his people. Revered as a fair judge with a respectful ear for the common people, he is well-liked, though he thinks little of the old society and the ruins they left behind. He is aging handsomely, keeping much of his natural black hair though he wears it cropped short and shaggy around his clean face. His eyes are a precise shade of blue, and he dresses modestly, with just enough rings and golden bracelets to remind those of his influence. He dotes upon his sons, and is devastated by Antonio’s illness. He devotedly seeks a cure. Age 42.
Lady Ilanna – shrewd as she is beautiful, Ilanna takes more than a passing interest in the old history of Kallistia, and has begun collecting old artifacts and tomes. She is confident in her beauty, fixing her hair into stylish ringlets, often fixed with gemmed pins. Her lips are naturally red, her skin ivory. She wears fitting gowns in seasonally fitting colors, and enjoys the pleasant command of her companion circle, and relies on them to help her through her son's illness. Every night, she sends prayers to Mirta, the legendary crown, that her son might be healed. Tanar is in her service. Age 34.
Lord Seth – the family heir and oldest son. Captain of the Pride, an organization of elite fighters who protect the Jette lands and surrounding countryside. His devotion to his job keeps him out and about, parading from settlement to settlement, making sure that nothing unwanted comes from the north. He reflects his father in appearance, sporting fine black hair and calculating blue eyes. He is muscled and tall -- a stalwart knight with fierce charmisa. Tanar harbors a small infatuation with Seth. Age 24.
Master Antonio – the younger lad and rumored favorite of his father. Unlike his brother, he most resembles his mother -- ivory and red-flushed skin capped with a crown of walnut hair. An acolyte of the Child Einar, though his fragile temper leads to mean outbursts that set back his advancement in the chivalrous church. Recently fell into an unexplained coma, bedridden and supposedly (according to gossip) on the verge of death. Age 18.
Lady Laleh – the sole lady of Kallistia. A simple and quiet child, she spends her days in the care of her governess Juddy. Her eyes are too wide-spaced to be associated with her mother's beauty, though she echoes her mother's sparkling green eyes and silky brown hair. Her governess thinks Laleh is a doll, and enjoys dressing her as so, in matching dresses, gloves, ribbons, and glittering jewelry. Rather ordinary compared to her charming brothers, but with a chatty governess and keen ears, certainly not naïve... Age 16.
Ilanna's Circle
Though the actual circle contains no less than twenty young ladies handpicked by Ilanna and occassionally reccomended to her by other noble Ladies from nearby lands, at her husbands discretion, Ilanna is only taking five girls with her on the voyage. Those five are described below.
Tanar Sablebrow -- See profile on page one. Loyal beyond death to the Lady Jette. (Try not to treat her so much as an NPC, as she is technically my character.)
Kayle Faederine -- A beautiful and graceful aillil -- an elf-like race from a western oligarchy -- Kayle is a flamboyant girl who came into Lady Ilanna's service shortly after her family migrated to Tern to establish a gem-cutting business, spurred by their racial adoration for shiny objects. Kayle's curved physique, curled white-blonde hair and playful green eyes have earned her the friendships and affections of many local men, though she never rewards their attempts and instead uses her flirtatious talents to garner information, which she then passes onto the Lady. She abhors physical labour as well as combat, but agreed to undergo training with a crossbow. Still, when push comes to shove, she often chooses to employ an aillil's talent for manupilating Manna. Age 19.
Cember Ashsmith -- A stoic young woman, Cember has seen hard times in her childhood growing up in rough northern hills. Only Lady Ilanna knows the full truth of her past, and loyally refuses to talk about. Cember's tanned skin, calm amber eyes and flaming red hair have a way of attracting attention. Subsequently, she stays out of the public eye whenever possible. Instead, she serves the Lady as a steward of sorts, helping Ilanna to balance the household accounts and keep track of the serving staff. She is also a talented kniveswoman, keeping no less than four on her figure at all times, not including the pair of dirks adorning each hip. Age 20.
Luanny of House Dennth -- Born in the capitol city of Pyrwill, Luanny is the daughter of Ilanna's childhood friend, and was offered a spot in the circle after her coming-of-age in hopes that servitude to Lady Jette would provide Luanny with the education needed to become a lady of class. She is often accused of being the "favorite", though she denies it. To disuade these rumors and to enhance Luanny's learning, Ilanna uses her as a liasion between her and the Master of Ceremonies, ensuring that Luanny has a job suited for her without being too close to Ilanna's side. As a result, Luanny is still teased, though she has become the most socially graceful of the group. She keeps her flaxen blonde braid draped across her right shoulder, and ties a white ribbon to the end. Her eyes are a warm and innocent. Luanny is the group's second most-talented Manna user (after Kayle) but wields a shortbow when needed.Age 17.
Wendy Ebbstride -- a local girl born in a small fishing village just south of Tern, Wendy is faithful of the Child Meires and a lover of the sea. Having spent most of her childhood on a fishing boat, she is an accomplished mariner and accustomed to hard work. She keeps her auburn hair cut short to her shoulders, and often wears a lopsided grin on her round, cheerful face. She has a no-nonsense way of dealing with problems, though often shows her sarcastic side when addresses Kayle, whom she finds to be vain and silly. To lessen the friction caused by the two women, Ilanna has made Wendy her primary bodyguard and her consultant when preparing for the expidetion to Kallistia. Wendy is Tanar's best friend, and the third oldest member of the personal servants. Unlike her fellow companions, Wendy does not employ the use of a manmade weapon (or magic, for that matter) when in combat -- she is a longtime student of hand-to-hand combat, and manages quite well without "some useless chunk o' steel" slowing her down. Age 18.
Calendars
I thought I'd clear this up - This RP is set in my fiction world, and thus follows its calendar. A.P. stands for Advent's Passing, and it a marking used on all dates that come after the year 713, when the Promised Ones destroyed an evil demon and cleansed the world of evil. The time maker S.C. stands of Sacred Calendar, and is used on all dates before 713. For this RP, you will most likely be using A.P. only if you ever have to mark dates.
As for months, this world has a set of lesser gods and goddesses called the Round. The Round is a zodiacal set of lesser gods that are said to stand in a ring around the World, and the movement of their dance shows the passage of months. Thus, they are also the names of the months, shown below in order.
(the Water Arc)
Mazin – the rain cloud
Nereis – the sea lady
Su – the water
(the Earth Arc)
Iltud – the multitude of lands
Lach – the loch
Kshi – the horizon
(the Fire Arc)
Cinaed – the borne fire
Plam – the reckless flame
Havah – the fire we become
(the Air Arc)
Akash – the sky
Yun – the clouds
Haizea – the cool wind
Sisre – the star (represents the blue moon)
There are 360 days in a year, with an even 30 days in each month. Thus, Plam 25 refers to the twenty-fifth day of the month of Plam, their equivalent of our August. My birthday in this format would be Mazin 25. Get it?
Map of Kallistia
This map will be updated as you discover new places or encounter thematically important things. But...don’t check until I finish drawing it. XD Hopefully it will be up soon.
Copyright Notice
The Three's World and all objects pertaining are under copyright of Rebecca Austin, i.e me. This includes Kallistia, the Sea of Dusk, the Lini, and Tanar Sablebrow. The use of these subjects are all others pretaining are not to be used with my explicit written permission except while within the confines of this RP. For more information, contact me personally. Thank you for your understanding.
This message was edited by Broken Alleluia on Feb 03 2008.
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Tell me why we live like this
Keep me safe inside
Your arms like towers
Tower over me
Tower over me
~The Folly of Moraine~
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quote quick quote edit quick edit del report
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Broken AlleluiaLay your armor down ~high on "N" total posts: 701 since: Oct 2005
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Dec 06, 07 at 03:32PM |
Character List -- "The Players"
Neo Name: Broken Alleluia
Name: Tanar Sablebrow
Age: 18
Appearance: Tanar is 5'6’’ inches in height, weight 145 pounds. She is tanned and physically fit with abundant muscles in her legs and back, a tribute to her country upbringing and love of the outdoors. Her hair is deep burgundy, straight and medium-length. She normally wears it out of the way in a knot atop her head. For reasons unknown, she wears a tacky green ribbon tied obnoxiously in her hair, positioned over her right ear. Her eyes are blue and lively, her features reminiscent of the classic country bumpkin – broad hips, nose and mouth, smattered with freckles, flyaway bangs, etcetera. She wears leather breaches studded with metal and a matching shirt beneath a long lady's tunic in the Jette colors of black lined with gold, slit at the thighs to provide movement and cinched at the waist by her belt. Her boots are black while her belt is died golden-yellow, where her sword is sheathed. She wears little jewelry -- only a small silver bead the size of a bird’s egg on a black chain -- a gift from Lady Ilanna from her Kallistian collection.
Occupation/Skills: Tanar is a member of Ilanna Jette's companion circle -- a selection of young, local girls who can ride well, wield a weapon, and are knowledgeable enough to properly attend social functions. Tanar herself is specifically skilled in swordcraft, wilderness lore, and handling animals.
Weapons/Equipment: Tanar carries a well-made steel claymore and wears sturdy leather armor beneath her Jette garbs. She keeps the pendant insignia of House Jette (two golden falcons raging in aerial combat on a black background) tucked in her belt pouch as well as a lodestone compass. A paper-thin, deathly sharp dagger no longer than her middle finger is tucked into her left boot.
Calling: Fascinated by the tale of Kallistia since childhood (see intro), Tanar was ecstatic when Lady Ilanna chose her from her circle to sail to the mystic island. Though it is her duty to follow and defend the Lady of House Jette, Tanar is ultimately driven to Kallistia by her thirst for adventure and her deep, almost spiritual interest in the Tree of Living. She dreams of one day being able to find the enigmatic Tree, and to touch its roots.
Background: Tanar was born in the small village of Bronzefield to a family of cattle herders. She had four older siblings all very distant from her in age, the youngest of the bunch being seven years senior to Tanar. Thus, though she was not an only child, she grew up alone, as three of her siblings were married with their own houses and the fourth was enrolled at a foreign magic academy and scantly came home. Her father was a herder and trader of cattle, and her mother helped to support the family by mending clothes and putting her embroidery talents to good work. Tanar spent her time outside, either watching the herds to badgering the local boys. She was energetic even in childhood, roughhousing as much as boys her age. Thus the whole village breathed a sigh of relief when Lady Ilanna offered Tanar a place in her circle, where she might put her boundless energy to good use.
Other: Tanar's horse Black Bull (teasingly nicknamed Bully), a blue roan with black socks, tail, and mane, is a mean-spirited animal who will only tolerate two people -- the head hostler of the Jette stables and Tanar herself. She saved him from a life as a lowly draft horse, both determined to soften his hard jaw and unable to stand by while such a noble horse was degraded in such a way. Bully is a powerful steed, possessing prowess enough in melee to equal to five human fighters. He is fiercely loyal to Tanar, and bears a pale white scar on his left flank, earned when he broke free from his picket line during a surprise ambush to defend Tanar from an enemy axe wielder, to prove it.
Writing Sample: See intro. XD
Neo Name: Scott Cee
Name: Cyamar Jourand
Age: 23
Appearance: Cyamar is 5'11" with a willowy build. His skin is more than fashionably pale, his blue eyes wide and bright. His fingers are long and dexterous, calloused at the tips. Due to his circumstances he wears simple clothes, cotton shirts and leather breaches.
Occupation/Skills: Despite his age Cyamar is a bard and tumbler of no small skill - often performing ballads, poems and acts of physical skill for nobles of various Houses. Sharp reflexes and a sharper mind serve to keep him out of trouble whether it be from marauding trolls or the effects of an ill-judged action, remark or liaison. Cyamar possesses absolute pitch, the ability to sing and recognise a musical note without the benefit of a known reference, as well as skill in Acrobatics and Athletics. Ocassionally, while negotiating his payment or his entry into the rooms of lesser Families' daughters, he has been known to resort to Trickery and Rougish behaviour.
Weapons/Equipment: Cyamar carries a mandolin slung across his back in the manner of a warrior's broadsword or axe. He wears, while engaged in 'rough work' such as recording the exploits of various patrons who want to become known for their skills in hunting wild and dangerous beasts, supple leathers reinforced with light mail. For his own protection he carries a steel short sword, though he has no particular skill with a blade.
Calling: Cyamar feels he was called to House Jette, and so Kallistia, to record what will become the new legends of that island, and also the names of those responsible. He will ensure their names, and his own, will go down in the annals of history. If asked, he will absolutely deny only being in it for the money.
Background: Born into House Jourand, Cyamar spent the early years of his life in relative luxury. Unlike his elder brother he had little or no interest in the manly pursuits of hunting, hawking and drinking. Thus overlooked by his father, he preferred to spend a much more peaceful time refining his skill with quill and mandolin.
But House Jourand was a falling House. Due to the immense gambling debts incurred by the the Lord and his heir, their assets and property was mortgaged away piece by piece until there was nothing left. House Jourand dissolved, despite the Lord's attempts to marry his sons into other noble Families.
Cyamar went his own way, seeking to make his own living by becoming a bard and poet.
Writing Sample: Approved.
Neo Name: Norad 2
Name: 36
Age: Ertas Vadamae
Appearance: Ertas is very tall, broad in the shoulders, and fit. His face is thin and handsome, and his black hair is kept stubble-short at all times. Cold blue eyes gaze out from underneath a slightly ornate combat helm. Speaking of which, his armor is an extremely light (nearly white) shade of violet, and decorated with inlaid teal scroll work and markings of rank. Also of note is the fact that, aside from the cuirass, it mostly only protects the front of the wearer, emphasizing the cultural idea of a fearlessly advancing warrior. A long sword hangs at his belt, always within easy reach of his strong yet dexterous hand.
Occupation/Skills: Ertas is the high commander of the military in a realm that lies far to the north. His people are extremely honorable, and have aided the southern kingdoms many times in wars past. He is the youngest high commander in history, and is appropriately skilled. He is gifted in most forms of Manna, particularly Shielding and Barrier, Fire, and Healing. He is also a swordsman of considerable prowess.
Weapons/Equipment: He carries a standard Helishean long sword, and wears the traditional armor of a Helishean High Commander (described prior.) The sword is a little longer and heavier than most western blades, but other than that it is no different from anybody else's sword.
Calling: As High Commander of a Helishean army, Ertas is required to periodically prove his valor and prowess. Lacking any major wars to fight in, or rebellions to put down, he has decided that a journey to Kallistia will suffice. He has left his highly capable second in command, Tsuka Sarenghis, to keep charge of things while he is gone and, though eh does not doubt Tsuka's ability, he finds himself periodically worried about how his friend is faring.
Background: The land of Helishea is highly feudal and intensely militaristic; so much so that even the humblest of farmers may boast skill with some form of self defense and weapons handling. Ertas, in his comfortable middle class merchant’s family, was no different. He learned swordsmanship from his father and Manna from his mother, and was a master of both by the time he turned sixteen and entered into the Helishean military as a lowly Minor Domo. He is the first in many generations of his blood line to become a professional soldier, and the first to ever attain a rank so noble as High Commander. As such he takes his job very seriously, and cares greatly for the lives of his soldiers, even having once taken an uppity young Sarenghis by the throat and growling “You may have your gifts, but these warriors belong to me. It is their lives that are important; not yours!”
Other: n/a
Writing Sample: Approved.
Neo-Name: Frozen_Zero
Character Name: Sven (short for Venerous) Duplice
Age: 27
Appearance: Sven is a rather fit 6'3", weighing just over 175 pound and maintaining an extremely well managed physique. His dusty brown hair parts evenly to either side of his steely blue eyes, which look outward with a quiet disdain. His hairless and chiseled chin gives way to a somewhat expressionless mouth. His skin is pale and fine from his years spent within studies or engaged in the company of the upper class. From his noble upbringing springs his usual manner of dress: upper body being adorned by a dress shirt, chest further encased in a tight brown vest, legs covered by rather rugged black dress pants, feet bearing a pair of polished black riding boots. A thick, brown, coat-tailed jacket completes the ensemble. The entire outfit is worn with a clear disgust and a good deal of discomfort; however, it also carries a somewhat dignified and prideful air about it. While in the wilderness he tends to be shrouded in a sleek burlap cloak, a pair of drawstrings protruding from the base of the hood and securing it to his shoulders.
Skills: Through the study that was required of him Sven has knowledge of subjects such as astronomy, lineage of other noble families, a basest understanding of economics, and understanding of etiquette and politics. Through his younger years and later hunts Sven acquired a knack for pathfinding and became a skilled marksman. Had he not been of noble birth he would've liked to have been a huntsman or a ranger.
Weapons and Equipment: Sven makes a great effort to keep the following two items on his person. A six inch heirloom dagger is kept tucked and secured into his belt at all times and has been kept pristine even in it’s rigorous use, the base of the hilt engraved with his family's insignia of five tiny daggers which face their points inward. The steel handle of the dagger is wrapped in tight leather binding which, through the years, has begun to decay despite the amazing craftsmanship. The other item is the exceedingly tiny diary of his father, which was kept almost religiously, the events of the previous day were scribbled down every morning and it was with him till his final hour. Sven hopes that through the study of the diary he will find the cause for the endless tradition of treachery that his family has maintained through the ages. Beyond these two items his equipment is most basic, standard traveling gear along with a sturdy longbow and trusty quiver of arrows.
Biography: Sven was four when his parents first began to enforce the idea that he was noble and thus profoundly superior to common folk. As Sven grew into adolescence he was schooled in things that his father found to be necessary, such as the decrepitly aged books which held a wealth of information. Unfortunately, Sven held no joy for the process of learning, in spite of its acknowledged importance. Instead his days would be spent wishing to be turned loose on the wilderness to hunt and fish and climb to the summits of great peeks. However, his learning only intensified and it was not till the age of 11, some years later that Sven was taken on his first hunt. He reveled in it, taking in the raw autumn air, the rustle of fallen leaves as the hunting dogs trampled their way through the forest in high pursuit of a red fox that had just managed to evade them. In later years his skills as a tracker and a hunter grew, along with his knowledge and prowess as a son of noble birth. At the age of twenty he uncovered his father’s plot to overthrow the lords of the province, like his father’s father, and his father before that. When the plot was uncovered by the state it was found that his brothers and mother had been a part of the scheme as well. They were hung and remarkably Sven was proven to have had no involvement with the betrayal. However his name was marred alongside his personal reputation.
Writing Sample: Approved.
Neo Name: Rust
Name: Kadom Rishmur
Age: 24
Appearance: Kadom is a bit shorter than most men, standing at 5'5", but looks to be the right weight for it. His fiery red hair has been cut so short that you wouldn't notice what color it was unless your close to it and his eyes have a warm glow to them that seem to attract people to himself. There is hardly any facial hair to account for except for his eyebrows and his face is somewhat rounded. More often than not he wears a low-collared light robe of white and black coloring, the pattern being one of severe complexity.
Occupation/Skills: Kadom is a wanderer, traveling from town to town in search of knowledge and people to help. He had been gifted at a young age with a mix of Manna and Baraka Manipulation, although he can only use the two to a mediocre extent, Baraka more so than Manna. Through his wanderings, he had gained a sense of peace with the Animals; often being able to sense when they are uncomfortable or in pain. He is rather learned as well, sometimes only accepting Books as donations for his good deeds.
Weapons/Equipment: Kadom's only weapon is a tall staff topped with a blue orb. Inside the orb is a lighter shade of blue that forms a spiral inside. Underneath his robe is light armor, of the same color of the orb, that can be used to take the force of inexperienced attackers, but would break if struck with enough force.
Calling: Wanders around the world in order to quench his thirst for knowledge. By heading to Kallistia, he hopes to be one of the first to learn of the past of the island, peaceful and otherwise.
Background: Growing up in a small, dirt poor village, Kadom was the middle child of three siblings. Most of his life he had to fend for himself, fighting for table scraps and having to steal from other families in order to feed himself. After he had come of age, which was 15 in his village, Kadom left with thoughts of never returning to that wretched place. Soon thereafter, his abilities with Baraka started to form as he got into more and more trouble in the wilderness. Luckily he was taken in by a group of woodsmen who trained him how to survive in the wilderness. It was during that time he gained his thirst for knowledge and started traveling the world in search of it.
Other: A wolf Familiar named Daku follows Kadom wherever he goes. A tall creature, almost up to Kadom's height without having to stand on his hind legs. Daku is a deep black color with a powerful build that makes him look a bit threatening at first glance. Kadom considers Daku more of a companion or partner than anything else.
Writing Sample: Approved.
Neo Name: Tiger of Wu
Name: Noicat Auld (Commonly called Noi)
Gender: Male
Age: 29
Appearance: 
Occupation/Skills: Noi is an adventurer, making money hunting beasts for guilds in which ever country he currently lives. His skills are wilderness lore, adventurers spirit (he will go anywhere with less fear than normal people) and wisdom (smarter than the average person, able to deduce things and figure them out quicker than most people)
Weapons/Equipment: Solid silver knuckle plates on his gloves and solid silver steel toe caps on his boots (not shown in the picture). He has a machete which he usually carries on his back and only uses that for venturing into the wilderness. Occaisionally Begrentel (see calling) will help him use baraka magic, but he doesn't use it very often because he is worried it will throw his baraka/manna balance out of place.
Calling: He has two reasons. The first is because he and his father went around the whole known world before his father died, and now to honor his fathers memory he wants to venture to Kallistia, the one place his father has never been. The second reason is because of Begrentel, a small bat familiar. On one of there adventures Noi and his father came across an evil spirit who attempted to take over Noi's body. His father made a deal with it, if it possesses something other than Noi he will show the demon around the world. When Noi's father died the evil spirit (who had possessed a bat) now travels with Noi. Begrental can not return to his supernatural home until the deal is done and Noi has shown him the whole of the world, which will be complete when Begrental has seen all of Kallistia.
Background: Born into a higher class family Noi's early childhood was more than good but when he was eight years old his mom was assassinated by another high class lord who Noi's father murdered out of revenge. Because of this he and Noi were banished and decided that they would travel and see the whole world. Being an only child Noi travelled with only himself and his father... until they met Begrental that is.
Other: Just Begrental... but he's been explained above.
Writing Sample: Approved.
Neo Name: FlippyX
Name: Lias Sylven
Age: 27
Appearance: Lias is tall, at around 6'00". His appearance could be accurately summarized as "Dark": favoring darker clothing, he currently wears a black hooded coat and dark pants, with fingerless gloves on his pale hands - one white, one black. His dark shoes are light but effective on most terrain. His appearance is well kept, despite the nature of his lifestyle.
Physically, he is quite thin and of a pale complexion, contrasting with his dark hair, short and spiked. His most defining feature is his eyes, a brilliant blue in colour and seemingly a light source of their own. A thin face with pronounced features, as if chiseled from stone, completes the picture.
Occupation/Skills: Lias, due mainly to the nature of his upbringing, originally made work as a thief on the streets of Tern and the surrounding area before discovering his unique abilities. This experience has made him incredibly adept at subtle slight of hand, stealth, and other various forms of trickery. Other such dark knowledge has also been picked up during his time on the more inhospitable streets of the towns.
Weapons/Equipment: Lias no longer carries a weapon, instead relying solely on his new-found telekinetic abilities. Though they require large amounts of Baraka magic, he appears to have a near endless supply, especially seeing as he seems to be able to combine this magic with another unique skill - that of "fartouch". Able to manipulate physical objects with little or no effort, these skills can be used to devastating effect: with a simple hand movement, Lias can apparently physically cut through the air with invisible force comparable to that of a sword, though of indefinite range.
His abilities also extend to exertions of force on physical objects. For example, he could stop an arrow in midair, or a sword in mid-swing, etc. Or he could levitate or constrict sizable objects, living or dead.
Because this power has only recently been discovered, around the time of his disappearance, it has not yet fully developed.
Calling: Having heard the legends of Kallistia on the streets, Lias intends to somehow stow away on the transport ship to the island, unattached to any party, to explore it for his own means. Though the story of the place fascinates him, his intentions are dark: he is far more likely to side against the other explorers than with them. This notion is further darkened by his great intelligence combined with a seemingly remorseless heart.
Background: Born into a very poor household, and the only child of a single mother, Lias knew only poverty until after the death of his mother when he was 14 years old. He was always an abnormal child, seemingly uninterested in social interaction, subject to intense mood swings and apparently unable to display empathic emotion, he spent his time alone, away from the gangs formed by others. This did not bear upon his intelligence, which is near enough beyond compare, and incredibly dangerous in the hands of such a person. As such he was not at all confident and a little paranoid, and as a result of this and his mindset he was often bullied.
When his mother died, he was 14. Inheriting the room in which they had lived, as well as the rent it entailed and his mother's meager savings, he was forced to live alone, stealing for a living and doing odd, shady jobs around town. In this way, he etched out a living for himself, making just enough to stay alive and well. Remaining a recluse for several years thereafter, the cruelty the world had shown him thus far nurtured deep hatred. Around the time this came to a head, he dissappeared.
Writing Sample: Approved.
Neo Name: Amano Murokumo
Name: Sinderr Espwoire
Age: 20
Appearance: Silver greaves and silver gauntlets are all the armor Sinderr wears on his six foot body. His linen shirt and pants are a mystic purple with silver trim. A black belt sits comfortably on his waist which holds his swords sheath along with three leather pouches. At first appearance, someone could stereo type him as being 'extravagant' in dress code. The designs on his armor are that of noble insignia's and leaf patterns. Atop his head long strands of golden blonde hair grow which match his hazel eyes. Sinderr's general visage is that of a well off person.
Occupation/Skills: Sinderr has been trained with the profession of 'Mage Hand.' He's able with one-handed short blades, while his open hand casts spells of varying effects. The purpose of this training was to serve Quilion, who was a fully skilled mage. Sinderr assisted Quilion's spells; making them more effective, yet had physical abilities to hold off enemies. His training was not been finished, as of yet.
Weapons/Equipment: A two foot bladed sword adorned with small symbols up the blade. Nothing special about it aside from it's unique design. On his right hand, he wears nine different rings. Two on each finger and one on the thumb. All have different enchantments which assist his spell casting. More rings reside in his small leather pouches.
Calling: Under a few 'simple words' of his master Quilion, Sinderr prompty made the decision to go.
Background: Sinderr remembers living with his Master Quilion for as long as he could. Quilion openly admitted to not being his father, or a family member of any kind, but refused to tell him about his birth parents. He promised that one day he would, however. The two of them lived in moderate housing, but with the unexplained ability to get what they needed, when they needed it. Quilion would often go meet 'contacts'; again leaving Sinderr in the dark. At the age of fourteen, Sinderr gave up asking, and just lived with it.
Other: His general fighting or sparing stance has him standing sideways with his left foot forward. His left hand holds his blade, while he keeps his right hand opened a foot in front of his torso; reading to cast magic. Quilion calls his magic style 'element mixing'.
Writing Sample: Approved.
Neo Name: HavensRaven
Name: Raven Firekeeper
Age: 18
Appearance: Stands 5 feet and 2 inches tall, she is well muscled and has many scars on her body from the rough play with her familiar. Her shoulder length black hair is never neat, and can usually find it ruffled up and messy. Sharp emerald green eyes stare out from behind her hair that has fallen from behind her ears and into her eyes, and a wolfish grin is usually worn on her lips. Her sword she's gotten from her odd jobs she does around the stables and such and is always worn. From her time in the wild, she's learned to tan deer hides and craft leather armor.
Occupation/Skills: Skills range from manna and slight baraka manipulation to Wilderness Lore, and Animal Handling. Her Swordcraft and Bowcraft is most important to her, as it has saved her in the past, and tanning hides.
Weapons/Equipment: Yew long bow, and steel falchion.
Calling: Something unknown had led her to Tern, and the thought of exploring has made her curious as she has heard stories about Kallistia.
Background:Raven has known herself as an only child, and, from what she can remember, abandoned at a small age, when she found her familiar, a black wolf, named Night, who taught her the ways of the wilderness. When she grew older, she, and her familiar, Night wandered from city to city, and Raven learned things about domestic animals while doing work in stables, earning money as she went. She never stayed in any one city for long, as most people grew wary of the large wolf that accompanied her everywhere.
Other: Night is a black wolf, and has green eyes like Raven. He is very protective of Raven, and is never far from her.
Writing Sample: Approved
Neo Name: BSmith3
Name: Axel Radras (It is unclear whether this was his birth name, however)
Age: Unknown
Appearance: Axel stands a solid 6'1" in a long black overcoat and a wide-brimmed black hat, pulled low over his eyes. Locks of saffron hair fall from under the hat, cascading over his shoulders to the small of his back. His skin is drawn and pale, not albino-pale, but sickly-pale, almost tinted yellowish. His eyes glow a freakish shade of yellow, and a knowing smirk always adorns his wicked face.
Occupation/Skills: Axel has worked in obscurity as a mercenary for years. He has gained fame among the lower-class for his perfect record: he has never failed a task given to him. If he wanted to, Axel's skills could certainly get him farther in life, but he almost seems to he prefers to remain an unknown, and his demeanor is so frightening that few are brave enough to speak with him; his missions are usually given to him on slips of paper. It is rumored that he is terribly skilled in Baraka magic.
Weapons/Equipment: A beautiful lyre carved out of pure mahogany is all he carries with him. It is unclear why he shuns traditional weaponry, but no metal of any kind (armor or weapon) adorns his body.
Calling: Axel is power-obsessed, and the rumors of the magic and power abounding in Kallistia were too hard for him to dismiss. However, this is known only to himself, and he rarely spills his secrets. Regardless, those few lower-class citizens who also answered the summons feel that they'll be very safe with the infamous Axel around.
Background: Axel appeared out of nowhere one day, hanging around in the bars of the slums. His background is a mystery - some say he was a peasant, abroad to study as a mercenary. Others hold that he simply rose from the ether one day. A small few claim he comes from Kallistia itself. But the most probable theory is that he comes from one of the Eastern continents. Despite all this fame and intrigue surrounding him, only those in the lower- and sometimes middle-class know his stories. There seems to be some secret motive behind everything he does.
Writing Sample: Approved
NEW MEMBERS!
Neo Name: ShadowJ
Name: Brackus. Has no second name and is usually known more through his mercenary name "Lone Wolf"
Age: 28
Appearance: Brackus stands at 6ft 2" with a broad muscular body frame. He roams topless except having steel plates shielding his left arm and the underside of his left forearm. Each with its own joint where they connect to give him freedom of movement. Over the years he has gained many scars and wears them like trophies to show he isn't afraid of fighting. Grooming wise he keeps his brown hair shaven and his stubble about his chin to a low. His eyes shine a deep oceanblue yet rumours state they turn a hounding red when he is angry, however they are rumours for a reason. No one has come back alive to confirm it.
His attire consists of hardened leather leggings to give him flexible movement with a good amount of protection, he also wears boots. Around the scars are two tattoos that are the reason he has gained the nickname "Lone Wolf". The first is a howling wolf upon his right chest and the second is upon the top of his back and is a snarling wolf with flames shooting from either side
Occupation/Skills: Mercernary. Swordcraft, Dual Wielding and Animal Handling. However Brackus holds the skill to manipulate pain into strength, causing him to last longer in fights and be a force to be feared. Though this comes at a price or two, if his body takes too much pain within a fight, he will snap into a rage and anyone even friends in the way will be in danger. The other set back to this is if te wounds are severe the damage will be doubled, taking him out for a couple of days or longer.
Weapons/Equipment: Armour is described in appearance. He carries a longsword that holds his family's crest and a dagger for extreme melee fights. Everything else is pretty standard.
Calling: Brackus' calling is the challenge and expansion of his job. A challenge for finding stronger enemies and possibly rivals to compete against and expansion as in finding more jobs.
Background: Brackus was a normal jack the lad. With a father as soldier and him as the only child, it was destiny for him to become the successor of his father and be trained to be a soldier himself. However in the line of duty his father was killed and several years later his mother died of a broken heart. Lost and confused, Brackus headed to the woods near his village, becoming more of an outlaw than a soldier. When he hit 19 he enrolled with a mercenary camp and became the famous "Lone Wolf" that he is today.
Other: Brackus has an animal companion. A grey wolf known as Shadowolf. It was a friendship waiting to happen as Brackus was only 10 when he lived in the woods. Shadowolf at the time was the alpha-male of his pack and took Brackus in, if it wasn't for Shadowolf, Brackus would have died and so he lived with wolves. Providing for his new family by looting and stealing, soon Brackus rose up the ranks and like a normal wolf hierarchy it was time for Brackus to challenge for the alpha-male spot. It happened and Shadowolf rightfully backed down and Brackus became alpha-male. However it wasn't long after that the village guards caught Brackus and killed the pack that protected their leader. And so soon the debt Brackus was in to Shadowolf was paid by saving his life. Both without a family they set off away from the village as partners and never separated since.
Writing Sample: Approved
Well, here's the new profile. Not much changes, actually.
Neo Name: lord_venace
Name: Venace Vergil
Age: 47
Appearance: Venace stands at 5'8" and has a rather lean build, corded with wiry muscles. His thin face is possessed of angular features, striking high cheekbones and a perpetually ambiguous smile that never seems to go away. His long, flowing head is stark white, and is tied back into a respectable ponytail. His eyes are twin deep pools of vivid red. He wears dark robes, equipped with many extra-dimensional pockets, where he keeps his spell components and books. His appearance is a façade though, a veneer of roguish charisma to fool others. In truth, Venace is a fledgling lich, a sorcerer who had recently traded his humanity in favor for an eternity of undeath. Should someone manage to penetrate the many illusion wards surrounding Venace, he or she may catch a glimpse of a decrepit form, completed stripped of flesh by the ravages of decay, leaving only white bone draped in the dark robes. Green flames burn in the empty sockets that once housed eyes, adding the final detail to this mockery of life.
Occupation/Skills: Before his ascension to lichdom, Venace was a member of a conclave of wizards that were obsessed with the collection of magical artifacts. As such, he is required to travel far and wide in search of these items. While he hands over most of the tomes and items he finds to the organization, he secretly keeps the most priciest and valuable of his findings to himself, unwilling to share the gains with his peers. Because of this, he has hoarded a vast arsenal of magic to himself. He has prodigious skills in Baraka manipulation, wielding the dark arts with destructive efficiency and lethal might. These abilities are further enhanced by his inherently evil existence as a lich, which also grants him virtual immortality. However, his present, degenerate state also offers one downsides: Venace’s ability to channel Manna has drastically decreased, such that he is only capable of using Shielding/Protection and telepathy effectively. The lich is also proficient in Book Knowledge, and has expertise in a variety of subjects, such as history, philosophy and linguistics. He is also fairly adept in Wilderness Lore, due to his past experiences as a wandering wizard.
Weapons/Equipment: Venace doesn’t use any weapons, and relies solely on his powerful spells. His typically abuses his abilities of telekinesis, earth, and infliction, favoring the rapid usage of twinned spells. When in a dire situation, Venace can polymorph himself into a creature that he has sufficient knowledge of to morph into, or resort to summoning extraplanar beings from the darker planes of existence. His innate abilities as a lich grants him high immunity to Baraka, but renders him very vulnerable to Manna, especially fire. Aside from his spell components, which help shorten the casting time of his spells or strengthen them, the only item he carries around is his phylactery, which is located in one of his many extra-dimensional pockets.
Calling: Venace desires access to Kallista for several reasons. Firstly, the lich has an insatiable curiosity with Baraka, and Kallista is a place steeped in the lore of magic, and a location where the diabolical Serpent Bearer, a being composed of pure negative energy, was said to have spread his taint. Secondly, Venace wishes to find a proper item to utilize as his phylactery. He deems his present phylactery to be unsatisfying and wishes to transfer the fragment of his soul within to an artifact of more grandeur and magical might. Thirdly, if the conditions prove suitable, Venace plans to plant his phylactery on the island, unwittingly guarded by the dangers that populate the area.
Background: Born the youngest child of a very poor family, Venace knew only hunger and suffering in the early years of his life. His parents were shoe peddlers, barely making enough to feed themselves, let alone the five other children. When a passing wizard identified Venace’s inherent talents of the art, his parents quickly jumped at the opportunity, begging the wizard to take him away. The wizard eventually complied, and his parents were relived of another mouth to feed, another burden. However, Venace saw the whole thing differently. He felt both resentment and bitter anger, thinking that he was but another child he’s parents could live without. Hate swallowed him, and his life was changed. He attended the magical academy, graduated as a fully fledged wizard, and joined a conclave dedicated to searching out ancient magic. The details here on are sketchy, but he eventually found a sponsor for his lichhood.
Writing Sample: Approved.
Neo Name: Zhan Dathka
Name: Elovan Karr
Age: 19
Appearance: Elovan is a slender, lithe man barely topping 5’7”. His hair drapes just past his cheekbones and shines akin to midnight under a starlit sky with a streak of gold cascading down near his left eye. A crimson cloth mask covers his face from his nose to his chin, obscuring any features other than his striking emerald eyes, although the tip of a small, but obviously deep, scar can be seen near his left ear. Connected to the strange veil is a blood red cloak covering his left shoulder. Upon that shoulder is a gold clasp depicting a soaring phoenix beneath a waning crescent moon. A tar-black tunic hangs draped over his muscular frame, shrouding him down to his well-worn traveling boots. On his right arm, just below his sleeve, is a small, black symbol in a language that nobody has been able to decipher. What little can be seen of his body is tanned and well toned from years of training. On his right hand sits a painstakingly intricate ring of a dragon with its mouth open in a primal roar. A sapphire can be seen in the back of its throat and each of the teeth on the silver head is made of an individual fleck of gold.
Occupation/Skills: Elovan has done a wide variety of jobs, even during his short nineteen years, ranging from a bodyguard to common thievery. Even though his skill resides in stealth and thievery, he has dabbled in the magical arts, lending him a small repertoire of spells.
Weapons/Equipment: Buckled on his left hip is a thin, wickedly sharp scimitar with a ruby embedded into the pommel. A bandolier of crossbow quarrels spans the width of his torso from his right shoulder to his left hip with a small, half-sized crossbow resting on his back, partially obscured by his cloak. While the bow itself does little physical damage, the poisons and potions are potent enough to stop a charging bull. On his left arm rests a curious, crimson red gauntlet. Beneath the tough leather exterior rests a thick, segmented mythril plating. The sections allow unhindered movement when relaxed, but when the arm and hand become rigid, the segments link together, forming a perfect shield and complementing his fighting style.
Calling: While his lover, Laurie, lay on her deathbed soon after Kallistia had been found, she recounted the story of the Isle as her mother had once told her. As her dying wish, she begged Elovan to find the crown Mirta. Elovan agreed and set off for the island soon after her death.
Background: Ever since his early years, Elovan was a beggar on the streets, trying to scrounge up a living with his mother and baby sister Annie, his father deceased soon after his mother conceived him. While he was pleading for gold one morning, he heard a scream from his mother and raced over to find her lying in a pool of blood, a member of the town watch standing over her with a bloody dagger as another dragged his sister away. Since that day, Elovan vowed to avenge his family, training in the ways of the blade and spell. Years later, he returned to the same town with Laurie at his side, only to find that the man who had killed his mother was now a Captain of the Guard. Soon after Laurie’s death, Elovan exacted his revenge on the man, bringing about justice for his crime. Elovan then fled to the sea, stowing aboard a ship bound to Kallistia, determined to carry out Laurie’s dying wish…
Other: During his brush with the magical arts, Elovan came across an injured panther near death, an arrow near her heart. He brought her to his mentor and requested her to be healed. The man acquiesced, though it required and immense amount of Manna. The magic altered the cat, whom Elovan named Anura, granting it abilities beyond that of any others of its species such as a quickened healing, allowing even the most grievous of wounds to mend quickly. When Elovan left his master, he fully intended for Anura to stay with the old man, aiding him in his ever-present search for greater power. The cat’s intellect startled him, however, when he found her curled around him on a particularly cold winter night.
Writing Sample: Approved
[size=1]This message was edited by Broken Alleluia on Mar 23 2008.
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Tell me why we live like this
Keep me safe inside
Your arms like towers
Tower over me
Tower over me
~The Folly of Moraine~
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quote quick quote edit quick edit del report
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Broken AlleluiaLay your armor down ~high on "N" total posts: 701 since: Oct 2005
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Dec 09, 07 at 12:13PM |
OOC: All right, everyone! Time to begin. Smith, I know you're running behind on your application, but get it to me as soon as possible and jump right into the action, okay? Same for the rest of you! In your opening post, give a little background and make your way to the Jette manor. Use this first movement to introduce your character and interact with one another. You get the idea.
Without further ado...we begin.
IC:
Port Tern, at dusk
Town House of Lord Diarmid Jette
Kshi 15, 850 A.P.
The streets surrounding the Jette town house bustled as the last sliver of the heavy red sun sank into the Sea of Dusk, painted the velvets waters a rich gold. Under the quiet sky, other districts of Tern slowly shut down as merchants made their final sales, mothers called their children inside, and fathers returned from a day at the fish market. All but the cobbled ways that encircled House Jette’s affluent manor – they were abuzz with whispers, from one neighbor to another; between guards posted on watch, or servants taking out the leftovers. It was the eve of the Jette departure – the family was finally setting sail to join their eldest son, who had been on the island with the initial military force for twenty months, building a fort and clearing out the southern peninsula. Tonight there would be a farewell dinner, but at the same time, a welcoming feast to those new fortune-hunters set to join the expedition.
Within the ten foot wall surrounded the house and outbuildings, preparations were reaching their final stages. Servants and footmen adorned in the House colors of gold and black darted diligently about, putting final touches on the summery decorations, straightening a table runner here, dusting a centerpiece there. All the tapestries must be hung straight, or the anxious master of ceremonies would certainly suffer a stroke. In the kitchen, cooks hurried to put the final garnished on tonight’s food – they would pull all stops to make sure their family had a proper sending-off, and that anyone coming into service knew how much the Lord and Lady were loved.
Tanar watched the last-ditch arrangements with mild amusement. She leaned against the polished stonewall, arms crossed and eyebrows raised. In the room behind her, her fellow attendants perched in front of mirrors with the rest of the female maids chosen to serve during dinner, adding final touches to their hair, flattening creases in their uniforms, and chattering about the voyage, the food, the guests…and whatever other inane topic came to mind.
“Brooding, are we?” asked a sunny, alto voice. A tall, auburn-haired woman not one summer older than Tanar stepped out of the room, grinning. The fitted black dresses worn by the serving staff did little to hid the developed muscles in her arms and stomach – like Tanar, Wendy Ebbstride was brought into the Lady’s circle of companions straight out of the country (or in Wendy’s case, the seaside) and was accustomed to hard work.
Tanar yawned, making a show of working the kinks out of her spine. “I am not brooding. I’m waiting for people to stop fussing. It’s annoying. Do they realize that most of our guests won’t realize if everythin’ isn’t perfect?”
Wendy absently reached out and retied the loud lime green ribbon woven around Tanar’s knot of hair. “Do you realize everyone wants to make sure that t’ Lord and Lady have an appropriate farewell party?”
“We’re going with them. It ain’t like we’re tossing them into a skiff with one paddle,” Tanar mumbled, subjecting to Wendy’s ministrations.
“Only half of the staff is coming. The rest are stayin’ here,” Wendy said, a hint of finality in her voice. She patted Tanar’s head like a mother soothing a spoiled child, and ducked easily when Tanar tried half-heartedly to slap her. “Perhaps you should remain behind! You brawl like a stable-boy instead of acting like a proper servant.”
Tanar managed to stick her tongue out at Wendy before gong clanged from the entryway. Guests were arriving, and right on cue, the Lord and Lady of the House swept into the hall, regaled in their finery and making an elegant couple in matching black velvet trimmed in golden lace. Lord Diarmid clapped his hands, his voice pitched above the noise of the resonating gong.
“To your posts,” he commanded. “The gates have opened!”
His command was obeyed almost instantly. Footmen dashed to the entry hall, ready to take cloaks and caps. Ceremonial assistants stood in wait at the entrance to the dining room, atop a ten-foot staircase. They would point guests to their proper tables, while the herald announced them. Maids came pouring out of the antechamber, all dressed similarly in black linen gowns, gold cotton underskirts, and crisp white aprons. At Lady Ilanna’s command, her five most trusted companions, Tanar among them, were scattered amongst the serving maids – only their touches of jewelry set them aside from the standard staff. Menservants came out of a chamber on the opposite wall, taking surreptitious positions in niches along the wall. They along with their female counterparts would wait for the head chef’s order before revealing their presence.
Tanar settled into her niche, fidgeting as her pent-up excitement tingled in her legs. She wanted to be outside; watching as the guests first arrived. Not the old friends – she had no care for those merchants and rich ladies come to bid the family farewell. She wanted to have a first look at the newcomers. She took deep breaths to calm herself, though her bright eyes constantly flicked from the door, to the raised dais where the family – Lord Diarmid, Lady Ilanna, and their plain daughter Laleh were the only ones present – resided, to the table in the middle of the hall, set just before the dais. They would be guided there. To the middle of the hall, where all eyes could see them.
Tanar grinned. Tonight it was her job, with her fellow companions, to assess these tenderfoots.
At the top of the staircase, the herald was announcing the first guests. Behind them she made out more, including a few new faces. Tanar caught Wendy’s eyes and smirked before falling back into the shadows.
Let the assessment begin.
This message was edited by Broken Alleluia on Dec 09 2007.
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Tell me why we live like this
Keep me safe inside
Your arms like towers
Tower over me
Tower over me
~The Folly of Moraine~
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quote quick quote edit quick edit del report
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Norad 2Now worlds will tremble once againtrue seeker (2K Remix)   total posts: 2420 since: Apr 2005
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 Dec 09, 07 at 12:45PM |
He was the first through the door; excellent. His two sloping, triangular plates on his dress helm, more of a showy headdress for occasions such as this than anything to be used in combat, added three full feet to his height, and the billowing scarlet cape clipped to his pointed shoulder pads widened his ostensible frame considerably.
Ertas Vadumae smirked wickedly as attendants edged out of his way, eyeing the warrior of the north nervously. The herald cleared his throat, and announced "High Commander Ertas Vadumae, of Helishea", pronouncing the foreign syllables with only slight difficulty. Ertas tensed slightly, and moved to swat aside a young servant who thought to take him by the arm and guide him, but curtailed the movement just as he raised his hand. He reminded himself that these southerners could not possibly be familiar with all of the customs of his people, and attempted to give the nervous youth a comforting look. He failed, his eyes half-hidden behind his helm, and his mouth not even beginning to convey a smile, and in the end simply shrugged and gestured with his head.
"This way, sir. . .er. Sir." The attendant stammered, and lead him shakily through the crowd. As he followed him, Ertas became rather conscious of how well he managed to stand out. In his homeland, "formal attire" meant adding a cape to your combat suit, polishing your cuirass, and donning the dress helm appropriate of your rank. Apparently the southerners had different ideas, and he wondered fleetingly why they always seemed so surprised when would be assassins succeeded in their designs. In all the history of the Helishean kingdom, there had only been two successful assassinations. A Helishean king was never without his |
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