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Jorick

Magnificent Bastard
Original poster
Roleplay Invitations
Not Taking RP Invites at this Time
Posting Speed
One Post a Week, Slow As Molasses
Writing Levels
Adept, Advanced, Prestige, Douche, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Usually aggressive, but can switch to passive if it makes sense for the character/scene.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy is my #1; I will give almost anything a chance if it has strong fantasy elements. Post apocalyptic, superhero, alternate history, science fantasy, some supernatural, romance, and a few fandoms (especially Game of Thrones) are also likely to catch my eye.
Genre You DON'T Like
Horror, western, pure slice of life.
Welcome to Varden
OOC Thread

The town of Varden slowly came into view to the north as the group of adventurers crested a hill. Bits and pieces of the town and the farmland extending to the north had peeked through gaps in the undulating land and the trees atop it, but details had been hard to gather with those glimpses in the low light of early morning. Now the full breadth of it all could been seen, bathed in the light of the sun finally cresting over the mountains to the east and illuminating more mountains to the west. A lazy river wound its way down the length of the valley Varden occupied, flowing from yet more unfriendly mountains to the distant north and down through the long miles of the lowland between hills, through miles of mixed farmland and fairly tidy stands of trees between them, then around the west side of the town proper before disappearing into hills west of the road.

The town itself was unimpressive compared to cities, spanning perhaps a mile in length along the river and less than that extended away from the water, but this was to be expected of a town called home by less than two thousand people. The buildings were mostly made of wooden walls, with thatch and tile roofs in roughly equal numbers, but there were a few stone buildings to be seen here and there. The largest and most obvious stone building was the small keep, unworthy of the name 'castle,' that squatted on a small hill right in the crook of the river's bend around the town. Aside from the town proper and the farmland beyond, the light of the sun revealed two further places of visual interest: a large stone structure built into the hills not far east of town, and some kind of tower across the river near the western edge of the valley.

Varden was an end of the road town in more ways than one: it was both the terminal point on the road that the travelers walked upon, by necessity given that it sat in a gentle little pocket of land between harsh mountains on three size, and it was a place few sought out and many sought to leave. Relatively large though it was compared to the villages huddled around the middle stretches of long roads that one would inevitably pass through getting from one city to another, the only traffic Varden normally saw came from traveling merchants and the caravans of wagons that came and went in harvest season. It was one of hundreds of such contained pockets of civilization scattered throughout the world, odd only for being an end point of a road on the maps rather than somewhere in the middle of one. The natural geography left it more isolated than the average farming town that supplied cities with food. From afar it looked quite peaceful, but hints of wrongness had already appeared to give the traveling adventurers advance notice that all was not well.

The band of thirteen disparate people who found themselves moving in the same direction, perhaps unwillingly in some cases, had all been held up by a common blockade: a large regiment of the Holtanian Army. A stretch of road and the wild land around it a few miles south and east had been taken over by the army and the travelers had been forced to wait, some for as much as two full days. The only information that could be pried from the scouts set to watch over the unwelcome visitors was that a large warband of Orcs from Tholkar had been found camped out in the hills nearby and the army was ordered to hunt them down and keep all travelers safe until the threat was cleared. By the time the commander of the regiment determined the threat to be sufficiently dealt with, it was early in the morning of the what would become the night of the full moon: the final and greatest day of trouble noted by the job flyer that had called the adventurers to Varden.

About ten minutes before the town came into clear view, a chill washed over the travelers. It was not just a matter of weather, and those with magical capabilities were able to sense that there was something arcane in its nature, but there was nothing more to be gleaned from the feeling. Moving back down the road, as tested by a hulking Orc who'd refused to say more than a handful of words to his unwanted traveling companions, did not get rid of the cold sensation. Whatever its cause, it seemed likely it was going to be with them for the duration of their time in Varden.

As the adventurers made their way down the hill and toward their revealed destination, another oddity presented itself: a Human male pacing back and forth across the road and muttering to himself, brown robes and long black hair fluttering with both the wind and his movements, fiddling with some kind of rope held between his hands. He stopped in the middle of the road and looked up at the approaching group with wide eyes. "Oh, more adventurers!" Though he was a tall and gawky fellow, his cracking voice made it clear that the speaker was not quite an adult. "I thought no more were coming and Varden was doomed. None of the others have been able to do much, and I've finally figured out how to—"

The young man cut off with a squeak as one of the adventurers, the Orc, growled and made a rude hand gesture as he walked by. The Human moved as if to stop him, but then sighed and looked to the other twelve with pleading eyes, holding up both hands with palms facing outward in a silent request for them to stay where they were. The Orc walked with his back held straight, shoulders back, and with a confident swagger in his step... until he got about thirty feet past the Human. His posture suddenly slumped and he paused and looked around, then slowly started removing his armor and weapons. He stripped down until he was wearing just tattered linen trousers and no shirt, then picked up a wooden club from his pile of gear before darting off of the road to the east without even giving the other adventurers a second glance.

"Now, as I was saying, I've finally figured out how to stop that from happening. I think." The Human cleared his throat and stood up straight, clearly trying to present a vision of confidence. "I am Tanos Vir, one of Archmage Therios Fallenthrone's apprentices. The people in the town are, um..." His attempt at confidence was marred by the way nervously chewed on his lip as he considered his choice of words. "Possessed isn't the right word, but it will do. Possessed by some unknown force that makes them act strangely. Or, well, not strangely, naturally, which is even worse. By nature, people tend to be very..." Tanos trailed off again, this time clearing his throat with an embarrassed look on his face. "Well, let's just say people are not inherently good. There's some nasty stuff going on. Some people are able to resist the influence, but you'll soon recognize the glassy look most of the others have."

One of the adventurers, a Dwarf fellow who had introduced himself as Torgun Falsetooth, stepped forward and held up a hand. He wore black chainmail, like midnight on a moonless night forged into metal, and a mithril battleaxe hung from his shoulder. The Dwarf had red hair and a bushy beard to match, and even viewing him from behind it was obvious he was giving the young man a reassuring smile. There was always some kind of smile on Torgun's face though, as the others likely came to know from their days spent stuck together, and presumably he was just always in a good mood. "Easy now, lad. Sounds like a mess. You said you've figured out a way to stop that?"

A Human male shoved forward too, by way of nudging his horse to carry him past the others. Sir Toleus was a lesser nobleman of the Mactian Empire, and with his long blond hair and piercing blue eyes he looked the very vision of a gallant knight. His frequently sour expression and attitude somewhat ruined the image, as did his regular rude comments about Alfhem and elves in general. "Yes, enough with the babble. If you've got a way to protect us from this possession be quick with it and stop talking our ears off."

"Impatience is the mark of an incompetent man." The stinging words were spoken softly and kindly, though there was a hint of a smile on the Orc woman's face. Kaltassa was dressed like a fabled barbarian queen, with layered furs and necklaces made of animal teeth and enough weaponry strapped atop it all to arm a half a dozen warriors. She hadn't spoken much to the others while they were stuck together, but when she did it was generally to offer gentle barbs or wise advice. Sir Toleus glowered back at her but said nothing.

"Um, yes, sorry, I have these." Tanos held up a handful of thin lengths of rope about two feet long each. "If I've done it right, wearing one of these tied around any part of your body should ward off the possession, or influence, or whatever it is. I almost got pulled in by it a few days ago, but I've been wearing one and haven't had any troubles since then. I can't guarantee it'll work, but it's better than nothing."

"That'll do." Sir Toleus nudged his horse forward and snatched a rope from the young man's hand, then tied it around his forearm. Without another word he kicked his horse into a gallop and hurried toward Varden.

"I also have useful information." Tanos did not seem particularly upset to be rid of the knight, but the others who'd been rushing forward to grab ropes slowed their pace.

These last three all hailed from Alfhem and had been the last to join the group camped in waiting for the Holtanian army to move. Thal and Tres were Elves, both tall and with the light brown skin Alfhem Elves were known for. It was unclear if they were brother and sister or a couple or just close friends, and any inquiries were casually ignored, but they had spent their time with the other adventurers regaling them with fantastical tales of the sea. A Human man who called himself Whalebones was part of their little group as well, but he'd spent most of his time watching Sir Toleus and giving the knight a humorless, gap-toothed grin whenever their gazes met. None of them said anything now, but they each took a rope and took their time tying them on. Kaltassa and Torgun follow suit.

"Best I can tell, there are three major problems. It's hard to say because the negative potentiality vortex has all the leylines in a tizzy and it's clouding my divination, but I felt three hot spots for sure when I looked for them while standing in the center of Varden last night, and each came with... a vision, of sorts." Tanos cleared his throat and looked away from the gathered adventurers. "I fear they may have been unintended visions of the future, may Zeinos and Kiliara forgive the accidental trespass. A girl spirited away to the west, dead farmers to the north, and missing children to the east. That's all I know. Be careful, and may the gods grant you speed on this horrible day."

The trio from Alfhem conferred quietly with each other for a few moments, then took off along the road. Kaltassa bowed her head to Tanos Vir and murmured words of gratitude before following. Torgun Falsetooth stood stroking a hand through his beard for a little bit before nodding. "Well, that's damned messy indeed. Good work, lad, and don't worry yourself about the wrath of the gods. Had a pal who tried to sneak a peek at the future to win a game of cards, and the poor bastard turned to dust immediately. You've made it this long, that means the gods aren't coming for your head this time." He reached up to pat the nervous fellow on the arm, and Tanos did indeed look reassured by the anecdote.

Torgun glanced back at the remaining six adventurers, giving them a grin and a view of the mithril canine tooth that gave him his name. "Looks like everyone else has decided this is isn't the time for teamwork. Always like this on big jobs, I've noticed. The bigger the spoils, the more selfish we adventurers get. I'm looking to make this my last job though, retiring with the riches that'll come from it, so for once I'm gonna play smart. Any of you lot want to join me, work together for a while at least, you're welcome to it. No telling what trouble we'll face, and it's always good to have friends in a scrap, eh?" Torgun gave them a wink and started heading down the road without waiting for a reply, but he strolled rather than moving in a hurry so they'd easily be able to catch him or pass him by as they preferred.

Tanos Vir frowned and eyed the remaining six adventurers. "Uh, for what it's worth, I think the Dwarf is probably right about working together. I have a bad feeling that things are going to get very dangerous very soon. Not another vision, just a gut feeling. Um, and if you happen to need my assistance for some reason, you'll be able to find me somewhere along the main road in town throughout the day, after I work up a few more of these and make a sign to let any latecomers know their purpose." He held out his hand, with about a dozen of the ropes still hanging from it, offering the protective gear to each of them.

A bird let out a trilling cry as the sun brushed over the nearby treetops, and the song was answered by many others in turn. Whatever was affecting the people of Varden seemed to have left the birds alone, at least. Whether that was a good thing or not was up for interpretation, but Tanos Vir looked decidedly worried as he glanced up at the trees. It looked to be a beautiful day, but the pervasive chill they all still felt remained an uncomfortable contrast to the quaint vision of Varden spread out before the adventurers. This day, just this one day, was all they had to save the town from whatever mysterious evils threatened it, and the seconds were already trickling away like grains of sand in an hourglass.
 

Pahn

Bubblegum Bitch
DONATING MEMBER
Roleplay Invitations
Not Taking RP Invites at this Time
Posting Speed
A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week, Slow As Molasses
My Usual Online Time
Anytime, I have no life.
Writing Levels
Adept, Advanced, Douche, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, Transgender, Androgynous
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
I'm fine with both, but I have hard time with others using my character(s) without my prior consent. If the other player is unsure, I will have more of an aggressive style.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, romance, slice of life, anti-hero stories, "you're our only hope", fandom non-canons, soft scifi, transhumanism, magical girls, horror, suspense / mystery, monster girls, fractured fairytales
Genre You DON'T Like
Roadtrip style, already-planned-out adventures, rigid GMs.



Yazmina Boelner


Alive & Cold || En Route to: Varden || With: [Everyone]



The cold sensation washed over her like a curtain of wooden beads, beneath her armor and through the permanent shadow that covered her skin. Yazmina bit the inside of her cheek and held herself straighter, her right hand barely hovering over the pommel of her sword. A quick glance around confirmed her that she wasn't the only one who'd felt the strange coldness, but none of them seemingly said a word about it. The sun was on the rise so it couldn't be truly weather related, leaving magic the only possible responsible for this odd cold front. Unable to shake the sensation away, the heavily armored woman kept silent for the remaining of the trip. Some were riding a wagon filled with old straw and pulled by a single, beefy horse, but she'd preferred to walk for the last few miles. She was used to long strolls on the road, although it also might have been a desperate attempt at warming up her limbs and the frigidity that clawed through her innards.

Her companions on this adventure were certainly an odd sort. The leading orc was almost a monster of a creature, and judgmental as it was she had expected him and the extravagantly dressed female orc to be travelling together, but their cold attitude throughout the trip told the opposite tale. In her time adventuring, Yazmina had encountered all sorts of fighters and magic users, all with different quirks and ideals, and rarely had she found anyone as irritating as Sir Toleus. She might not have been elf, which he seemed to despise above all else, but his look of pure revulsion towards her was more than distracting. It had forced her into a more quiet role, whereas she usually would be chattering about with those whom she'd be risking her life with. But Sir Toleus had made it clear that his life was worth much more than anyone else's, and that was not the kind of attitude Yazmina could stand very long.

Along with the stinking goblin, the squinting elf, the strangely disfigured little lady, the pink-haired scion, and the other dark-skinned human, the other adventurers kept to themselves since they'd clearly joined their group together. The dwarf was amusing and after a day together she grew more comfortable around him. Yazmina would take kindness and smiles regardless who it came from, without prejudice or disgust even from the disfigured girl, who looked like a walking corpse stitched to human half. When they finally reached a point where Varden was visible on the horizon, Yazmina listened carefully to every last word the archmage said. She wasn't disappointed to see the male orc run off in a half-naked daze, but on a second thought it terrified the shit out of her: what in the world was going on for him to lose his mind to such an extent? The archmage had been interrupted before he could present his solution to this little inconvenience and it was hastily that she took the offered bit of rope and ran it intricately through the braids of her hair. Sir Toleus' departure along with the two elves and their human companion, and the female orc did not displease her and she was just about to follow Torgun promptly when she realized the cold sensation had not yet faded despite the long walk and stretching she'd done on the way here.

Clearing her throat, Yazmina cast her most promising smile, but she knew it would be obscured by the shadows of her flesh regardless. "Thank you for the welcome, apprentice archmage Tanos Vir! Tell me, is it always this cold around these parts? Never thought the sun and this armor couldn't keep me warm and cozy, but here I am, shiverin' like a skeleton meeting its maker! Ahh worry not, I'm sure I'll get used to these colder fronts. Torgun is a wise fella so I'm gonna be on my way, although I hope your gut feeling is merely indigestion!" With a heavy chuckle that made her armor vibrate over her chest, the woman shook her head and turned towards the others standing behind her. She'd been the one behind everyone the entire way here, but now that their work had begun she wasn't about to let herself be the last one to have an opportunity to react if something came at them. In truth... They all looked so very weak and frail, she hoped they were at least good fighters from a distance. The uncertainty reflected in her smile and she gave them a friendly shrug. "I'm Yazmina Boelner, by the way. Your friendly heavy armored companion. Looks like I'm going to be standing in front of you all when shit hits, so I suppose you all should see my pretty face at least one time." Knowing fully that the dark aura surrounding her wouldn't make her look friendly at all, the fighter sighed wistfully as silently as possible and winked at the lot of scrawny adventurers. This would certainly be interesting, as long as they made it out alive...



 

Aero Blue

he hears his master's voice
Posting Speed
One Post a Week
My Usual Online Time
5-11 EST weekdays, anytime weekends.
Writing Levels
Give-No-Fucks, Adept, Advanced, Douche, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Androgynous, Primarily Prefer Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Switches have more fun
Favorite Genres
Superhero, urban fantasy, space opera, crime thriller, supernatural
The apprentice’s rope took a few loops too many to adequately secure around Wank’s left arm, a fact that the goblin perceived as a personal insult towards his being and stature. His subconscious scrambled as it determined, in all its irrationality, who was to be deemed responsible for the slight: the apprentice who presented his offerings, perhaps, or the rest of the adventurers, each unlikely to have suffered as he had. Wank settled for, in the end, a general glower and scowl with which to regale each member of the party, equally ‘guilty’.

His scowl found itself replaced with a disconcerted grimace as his body contorted into the involuntary throes of a shiver. Almost immediately, the scowl returned, made doubly strong in its rebirth. The shiver, too, was perceived an as insult, levied unto him by his weaker constitution, which in turn meant that the mother and father - Mox and Pung - who bore him and his various blood-given traits were to be considered the main culprits. At the very least, he found a small measure of relief in that the party - those around to witness his weakness - had seemingly already reduced its numbers by half.

Wank resolved to follow the one with the strange tooth, less out of camaraderie and more out of the notion that the most easily obtained form of glory was stolen glory. This, of course, required the presence of other more qualified adventurers. Yazmina, the shadowy lass - alternatively, the armored posterior which seemed to constantly end up in front of the goblin’s view - seemed to be on a similar path.

She had even come equipped with her very own genial introductory spiel! The goblin, fixing Yazmina with an enlivened glare, immediately perceived this as a challenge, and resolved himself to the game of one upsmanship.

“Ye ain’t all that pretty,” began the goblin, who thought she was, in fact, ‘all that pretty’, “I, meself, am a real specimen howsever, name of ‘Fast Hands’. Uh huh. I know what y’am thankin’; ‘is he a mighty purty goblin, or is dat there goblin purty darn mighty?’ To tells ya the truth, I’m not so sure.”

He raised each index finger, which began to smoke as sparks emerged from the tips.

“... But being that I gots fire comin’ out of my fingers, you’se gotta ask yerself one question: ‘Do I feel...”

Wank immediately entered into a coughing fit. Typically, the goblin was nose-deaf towards his own stink, but the scent of smoke emanating from his flesh created the perfect storm of circumstances for the goblin to get a whiff of his own foul aura.
 

HerziQuerzi

Failures don't get into paradise
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays
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Adept, Advanced, Douche, Adaptable
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Primarily Prefer Female
Favorite Genres
Fantasy of varying types. Some sci-fi.
Deidre Dydi

Pointedly upwind and several paces distant from the horse pulling the wagon, Deidre grinned as the goblin entered a bout of coughing. Leaning against her quarterstaff, she too addressed the group. "We finally feeling chummy and gabber-mouthy? Fantastic."

She began to lean further and further against her quarterstaff, until her feet left the ground and she comfortably sprawled atop tge impossibly angled freestanding piece of wood. A web of faint golden lines spreading from the base of the staff told the magical origin of Deidre's trick for the observant. "Deidre Dydi, present and accounted for. And I'm feeling," she continued, shooting a playful grin at Wank, "like it's past time I did something a touch more lively than walking or countryside strutting. Feel free to keep up."

Quickly tying the rope around her arm, she began to roll forward off the staff, before flipping over and turning the move into a vault. Landing, she began to bound after Torgun.
 

Greenie

Follow the Strange Trails
Posting Speed
Slow As Molasses
Writing Levels
Beginner, Elementary, Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
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Male, Female, Androgynous, Primarily Prefer Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Passive.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, Supernatural, Horror
Genre You DON'T Like
Yaoi

It was hard for Jehan to hide the slight shiver from the cold sensation that seemed to remain even after the group had entered Varden and listened to the the Archmage's apprentice explain the situation. He had not even bothered to look in the direction of the impatient orc nor the haughty man from the Mactian Empire. If they wanted to run to their deaths due to lack of information, it was their own doing. What Kaltassa the orc warrior had mentioned was true, even if it had caused him to laugh quietly. Impatience was indeed the mark of an incompetent man.

Jehan liked to think he was smarter that that. The elf had no interest in travelling alone; early adventuring days had taught him that a lone traveller was asking to get hurt, whether they knew how to wield a weapon or magic, or in his case, both. Neither did he have death wish, and what had been told was enough to convince him that heading out by himself would probably end up with his remains forgotten someplace no one would visit for ages, if at all.

Hence it was only natural that he agreed wholeheartedly with both the dwarf and Tanos Vir. It seemed to him that the armoured woman agreed, as did the goblin and the dark skinned human woman. At last some sensible people- his thoughts were interrupted by the coughing goblin. Did I think too soon? He didn't wish to be impolite, but he didn't want to be assaulted by the goblin's rancid scent. His eyes were weak enough and he didn't need to add nose problems into the mix.

Once he had the rope Tanos had given them tied around his upper arm, he followed after the foursome. Staff in hand, he walked deliberately, using it almost like a cane, though he hardly needed the assistance. "Jehan is my name," he called, deciding it was high time he introduced himself. He glanced back at the goblin; sighing inwardly at his conscience, he deciding it probably wouldn't hurt to ask if the smaller person needed some assistance. "Bad cough there- need some help?"

 
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firejay1

The Phoenix
Roleplay Invitations
Not Taking RP Invites at this Time
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Several Posts a Day, A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week
My Usual Online Time
My times are pretty erratic, but it's only really rare to see me PST 3-11am. I'm on most of the time.
Writing Levels
Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Fine doing both! Sometimes I end up aggressive, if no one else is contributing to plot, or if there's one person I feel like is taking over, but if everyone's contributing equally to the pool of ideas, I just let them go ahead and do it.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, Slice-of-Life, Modern.
Genre You DON'T Like
Horror, Psychedelic, Gory (gore I can handle as long as it's not gore for gore's sake).
The journey to Varden hadn't exactly been what Lienne was expecting. She usually traveled alone, and she had been quite prepared to merely bump into a couple others on the way as they each reached the city at a different time. Getting trapped with 12 others had not really been the plan, but it had made the remaining leg of the journey more interesting.

Normally, she would have made it her business to start mouthing off at pretty much everyone, an unintentional habit that had won her many an enemy wherever she went. In this case, however, she'd been distracted by the overwhelmingly irritating presence of Sir Tolerant or Toluble or Tobbogans or whatever his name was. He was one of those people others tended to dislike even more than they disliked her, and he had been doing a splendid job of keeping her occupied playing pranks on him and loudly insulting him when she was sure he was within hearing distance. There was just so much to insult, and boy he had not seemed to like her.

When he'd ridden off without hearing the end of what the apprentice had had to say, Lienne had outright laughed and said, "Well, I hope he dies first." Nobody had seemed to pay her much mind for the comment. She doubted they disagreed with the sentiment.

Now that they were rid of Sir Twittering, however, she finally had the opportunity to amuse herself with the others there, who were in turn finally speaking up, and indeed were they speaking. She had held back this far, but the quick little human with the staff was getting her impatient to move.

The scion bounced lightly on the balls of her feet a couple of times, and then shot forward so she was standing right in front of the scholar, face up close and personal with his, eyes squinting against the light of that damned sunball in the sky. "Mr. Funnydwarf Sweettooth is wrong, you know." She said brightly, taking a rope and tying it securely around one ankle. "Just because the gods haven't punished you yet, doesn't mean they won't eventually. They have... their own ways of doing things."

She gave a sprightly little spin all the way around a circle and a half and stopped to tell the rest of them, "A lot of you are very, very ugly. And" she eyed the smoking goblin and Heavily-Armored 'is it cold in these parts' Bowler, or whatever her name was, as best she could "a couple of you not very bright. It hasn't been nice to meet you, but I'm not really interested in getting killed, so I'm going with Jumpers and Gap-tooth over there." She pointed a finger directly at Heavy-Armor and the half-corpse girl. "The two of you should come along! I can fix you!" Lienne didn't think it necessary to elaborate on what exactly it was about them that needed fixing. It should be obvious with her illusions that they could use a little cosmetic help, completely forgetting that she'd never exactly mentioned what her abilities were in the first place. The goblin, however, was a hopeless cause, and it was better to spend as little time looking at him as possible, rather than trying to fix him up.

Spinning again in another silly circle and a half, Lienne sprinted after the dwarf and Jumper human, catching up quickly.
 

Pahn

Bubblegum Bitch
DONATING MEMBER
Roleplay Invitations
Not Taking RP Invites at this Time
Posting Speed
A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week, Slow As Molasses
My Usual Online Time
Anytime, I have no life.
Writing Levels
Adept, Advanced, Douche, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, Transgender, Androgynous
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
I'm fine with both, but I have hard time with others using my character(s) without my prior consent. If the other player is unsure, I will have more of an aggressive style.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, romance, slice of life, anti-hero stories, "you're our only hope", fandom non-canons, soft scifi, transhumanism, magical girls, horror, suspense / mystery, monster girls, fractured fairytales
Genre You DON'T Like
Roadtrip style, already-planned-out adventures, rigid GMs.



Yazmina Boelner


Alive & Cold || En Route to: Varden || With: Deidre Dydi, Lienne



With a chuckle, the tall woman shook her head at the stinky goblin and ignored the sparks that came out of his fingers. It appeared he was some kind of magic user, but his cough blew away most of his reliability; if they were going to have to stealthily sneak anywhere, this little fella would most certainly blow their cover.

The strange pink-haired elf demonstrated once again how much of a foul mouth she had, but it only served to make Yazmina's smile a little wider from laughter. She didn't mind the girl, and from her experience it was always nice to have someone who was able to crack jokes regardless of the situation. Her eyes followed her as she went after Deidre and Torgun.

"I reckon we should follow those three. Jehan, was it? Don't stay back too long, and you two as well. Thanks for everything, Mister Vir - good day to you!" Nodding confidently at the three men and the disfigured girl, Yazmina turned around and went after the two women and the dwarf. It didn't take her long to catch up, and with curiosity she looked over Deidre's staff. Was it magic? Is that what helped her with those acrobatics? How interesting. "I don't suppose any of you know how to wield a sword, eh?" It suddenly dawned on her that the pink-haired elf hadn't introduced herself. "And what should I call you, pink lady? Foulmouth?"



 
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Astaroth

My sun sets to rise again.
ADMINISTRATOR
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Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Chat Roleplays
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I play what's needed, but I do like to take the lead. In my one-on-ones, I often like being the "Game Master" in the sense of creating the setting, controlling NPCs, and steering the plot. But I still like input and collaboration from my partners. In group games, I prefer to be the GM or to play a leading or mentor role.
Favorite Genres
I love a little bit of everything. My top choices would be Horror, Modern Fantasy, Urban Fantasy, Magical Realism, Noir, Steampunk, Cyberpunk, Splatterpunk, Post-Apocalyptic, Historical, Mystery, old-school High Fantasy, and Sci-Fi (especially Spacesagas). I'd love to do some occasional Clockpunk or Weird West or Wuxia or Dieselpunk, too.
Genre You DON'T Like
I guess the only thing I don't particularly care for is high school drama, and even that can be fun with a good hook.
A young woman in hooded robes watched the wagon clatter ahead with a grim twist of her mouth. The motion tugged painfully at the right side of her face where dark, flaking skin peeked out from beneath her velvet half-mask and overtook once-perfect lips, the healthy rose pink melting into charred black. The charcoal quality continued down along her neck in a large swath until it disappeared beneath the high collar of her carefully-chosen attire.

It would seem that disembarking to approach Tanos Vir was a poor choice. She had been left to fend for herself. Again.

Her gloved hands fumbled with the length of rope. One glove hung noticeably looser around stiff and trembling fingers, as though it had been tailored several sizes too large--though its mate fit perfectly on her small, delicate left hand. This variety of protective charm had not been designed with someone like her in mind. Se dared not attempt to wind it around her right arm... but that same arm and her weakened digits were not up to the task of tying it unaided around her left. For a moment, she debated the merits of sitting down in the dirt to try her leg instead. But that would only be a solution if she could manage to stand again after. With the weight of her pack on her back bearing heavily down upon her it seemed unlikely she would make it to Varden, let alone maneuver through getting up and down on one good leg.

One rich amber eye tracked the retreating backs of her companions. None of them had deigned to speak to her yet, not for the entire journey; she supposed she couldn't blame them given her sorry state. Oh, if only she'd been able to meet them prepared...!

Gritting her teeth, the girl began to trudge down the road on the heels of the rest. Hobbled, more accurately. Her right leg twisted and wobbled in unnatural ways with every step, but she barely noticed, her focus elsewhere. She pushed her left sleeve up with two fingers and continued her fruitless quest to wrap the blasted rope around her thin, pale forearm. The end of the rope kept slipping from her grasp.

"Ooooh," she seethed, blinking furiously.

She'd heard the jab about fixing from the pink-haired woman. Her stomach roiled and she had to bite her tongue to keep her first thoughts from slipping past her lips in answer.

"If you want to help," she said instead, raising her voice--one that seemed far too sweet and clear when paired with her twisted, grisly appearance--enough that it might carry to a sympathetic ear, "what I need is a hand, if it isn't too very much trouble?"
 
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Jorick

Magnificent Bastard
Original poster
Roleplay Invitations
Not Taking RP Invites at this Time
Posting Speed
One Post a Week, Slow As Molasses
Writing Levels
Adept, Advanced, Prestige, Douche, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Usually aggressive, but can switch to passive if it makes sense for the character/scene.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy is my #1; I will give almost anything a chance if it has strong fantasy elements. Post apocalyptic, superhero, alternate history, science fantasy, some supernatural, romance, and a few fandoms (especially Game of Thrones) are also likely to catch my eye.
Genre You DON'T Like
Horror, western, pure slice of life.
Opportunities Aplenty

Tanos Vir didn't manage to get a single word out before Yazmina was already turning away to address the others. He shrugged and looked about ready to start doing something to the ropes in his hand when Lienne got in his face and contradicted Torgun's reassurance. The young man shrank in on himself and only responded with a small "oh" as she turned away. He kept his eyes down as the adventurers started to make their way toward Varden.

Torgun, however, proved a little more talkative. As Deidre caught up with him and didn't rush past him, shortly followed by Lienne and then Yazmina catching up and none of the others apparently eager to hurry off on their own, he let out a chuckle and nodded to himself. "Well, some sensible folks, more or less. Good. Dunno what the kid was talking about with his three problems, but I figure if he was right we'll sniff it out soon enough. I've got a good nose for--" Torgun cut off as he heard Griselda calling out from behind, and he didn't hesitate in turning right around and jogging over to her. He reached up without seeming at all bothered by her disfigured flesh and helped tie the rope around her arm. "Wouldn't be right to start this motley band of allies off with someone being left in need, eh? That'd be some poor manners. I may be a bit short for it, but if you need someone to lean on to help you walk, well, I'm sturdy enough for it." Torgun gave her a nod and a grin that glinted in the morning sun thanks to his mithril tooth, and as he turned and resumed his northward progress he kept to Griselda's side in case she wished to take him up on his offer.

As they neared the edge of Varden, the adventurers could see a wide variety of people loitering around the main road that cut straight north and south through the town, most wearing the plain clothes expected of farmers and the like but a couple that wore armor and weapons as well. This was certainly not normal for a farming town: there was usually work to be done, whether in the fields or around the home, and none of that would get done by standing around. It did seem like a lot of places of business were grouped here at the entrance of town, rather than near the center like one would find in a settlement that wasn't an end of the road locale, and that could explain some of it. However, most of them seemed to be entirely aimless, and even given the distance Deidre, Yazmina, and Wank could see a certain unfocused mistiness in their gaze as they stood or slowly walked about. Yazmina also managed to spot a few other persons of interest: the trio from Alfhem slipping off to the west, and Kaltassa taking a path between houses that led east. A few of those unfamiliar faces littered about had brightness and purpose in their eyes that marked them as people unaffected by the strange force that had taken the nameless Orc's mind mere minutes ago.

A Human boy stood off to the right side of the road in front of a makeshift paddock holding eight horses. The barrier was made of large branches planted in the dirt with grubby string wound around them, but it served well enough to keep the animals contained. There was no proper stable in sight from where the adventurers stood, only this simple setup. The boy was just finishing up with Sir Toleus and leading the knight's horse into the paddock to bring the total to nine. There were also eleven carts of various makes and sizes lined up near the paddock, and the holding area for horses was easily large enough to hold dozens of animals. Deidre could tell from the way the ground was torn up that there certainly had been more horses there at one point, but the makeshift walls looked like they'd been standing unmoved for a couple weeks and there were no obvious paths in the grass around it to explain where all of the animals might have gone. Sir Toleus hurried northward along the main road of the town after tossing the boy a coin that glinted gold in the sunlight, heading straight for a troop of armored people standing and talking amongst themselves with a lot of violent hand gestures and pointing. That group all had a uniform sort of look to their gear, rather than the hodgepodge gear typically worn by adventurers.

The first building of the town, set to the left of the road about a hundred paces north of the makeshift paddock, appeared to be some kind of shop. A pale Elf woman stood in the doorway with her arms crossed, staring at the approaching adventurers with undisguised interest, and Wank was able to spot a gaudy assortment of bejeweled rings decorating her fingers. Further north, on the main road of the town, there were a couple men who stood out as abnormal. The nearer of the two was a Human wearing bright purple robes that stood out garishly against the rather drab surroundings, and he was chattering amiably with a sullen woman who stared at him with glazed eyes. The other, a stone's throw away, was an Elf in gold and silver robes that were similarly out of place, and he was yelling at a man cowering against the front of a building, though the words didn't carry well enough for any of the adventurers to make out the details. Lienne and Griselda both managed to sense something strange coming from the two robed men, something magical that was powerful and different from each of them, but they were unable to grasp further details. Despite his nearsightedness, Jehan was able to make out the Elf clear enough to tell that the robe was definitely not a modern style in the Chain of Idris, and in fact the closest he'd ever seen was a ceremonial robe that was supposedly many centuries old.

As soon as they got within shouting distance, the boy in front of the paddock waved at the adventurers. "Adventurers! I can watch your cart and horse! It's a silver penny each day for each one. The tavern's stable got full weeks ago, and they charge a gold piece each day anyway." Though the others noticed nothing amiss, Jehan got a sense of nervousness hidden under the boy's eager sales pitch. The boy continued watching them expectantly as they approached, and Jehan was unable to glean anything more that might explain his insight into the child's demeanor.

"Well, fuck me." Torgun was staring at some of the nearest glassy-eyed folks with keen interest. "Guess the apprentice boy was right about folks being taken by something. Creepy." He looked around at the other adventurers and gave a shrug. "Seen worse though. I figure we should start with gathering some information, eh?" The Dwarf ignored the boy and headed toward the robed men, leaving the others to make their own decisions about who, if anyone, to approach.
 
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Aero Blue

he hears his master's voice
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One Post a Week
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5-11 EST weekdays, anytime weekends.
Writing Levels
Give-No-Fucks, Adept, Advanced, Douche, Adaptable
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Androgynous, Primarily Prefer Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Switches have more fun
Favorite Genres
Superhero, urban fantasy, space opera, crime thriller, supernatural
Wank was a goblin who had his priorities in order.

An order, specifically. The wrong one, maybe.

Processing the sight of the village in all its pervading abnormality was secondary to fuming over the kaleidoscope crackling of his ego and self-respect, prodded upon to and fro by these scum. Dee-dee dee-Dee, or some such, and her stupid playful endearing grin. Wank could feel the quaking and quickening pulse it instigated within him, and thus misattributed the work of his pubescence to some insidious mind-game. Maybe she was some aspiring mindfucker, here to pledge apprenticeship to whoever was behind all this.

And Je-ham, that presumptuous TWAT with the perfect hair and fine manners, had offered him help? Unforgivable.

As for the red-haired one, and all her scath and vitriol and hateful speech: that was a fine, wonderful person. One after his own heart. The hooded one, too, would be a fine ally, the two of them, in his mind, bound by their wholly inadequate bindings. Fitting. Or, as it were, not all that well.

Having, perhaps, established a pecking order of who he hated least, he turned the workings of his mind towards his paltry investigations. The aimless wanderers were as good as brainless, which meant his attention - skipping firmly past the paddock-boy - was devoted to the elf with the ‘purty’ rings. More than the rings, however, was her look of discerning interest, which Wank perceived as almost predatory. Perhaps it was because of those fancy rings that Wank thought as he did, labelling her as ‘rich oppressor and closet slaver, obviously’.

The goblin broke from the group to offer her his best imitation of cordiality, “You! You ol’... you OLD missus!”

She was an elf, you see, which to Wank meant that she was inevitably old.

“Why’se you staring with ‘em hungry, rich eyes? Ye thankin’ ye see a fine group of fol’ wanderin’ into town and ye can jus’ stare at us like meat for yer… meat collection?”

Lambasted with righteous fury.
 

Greenie

Follow the Strange Trails
Posting Speed
Slow As Molasses
Writing Levels
Beginner, Elementary, Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, Androgynous, Primarily Prefer Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Passive.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, Supernatural, Horror
Genre You DON'T Like
Yaoi


Jehan may not have had the best eyesight, but somehow it hardly took high quality vision to see that this motley group was indeed just that: motley. The goblin seemed almost offended by his offer to help, while the much too bright haired female seemed to have a way with words that made even the anti-healing elf feel a little strange and wary of her. It was hard to tell much about the crippled girl or the one named Diedre, though he certainly felt sympathy for the former- if he hadn't been offering his help to the ungrateful little stinker, he would have certainly gone to her aid. At least Torgun was a decent enough person, and the same could be said for the one with the lingering shadow, Yazmina. He certainly appreciated her calling out to him to not stay back too long.

Nevertheless, he decided to reserve further judgement as they entered the town. Straining his eyes, he caught glimpse of some of the others, even the pompous one called Sir Toleus by a makeshift paddock. Looking away from him, he next caught sight of something that took him by surprise. "Hm." An elvish man was having a shouting fit at a poor man who seemed as if he wished he could be anywhere else but there. Not that it was any of his concern. What did strike him was how his robes were pretty much... archaic. No one wore anything like that anymore. Jehan couldn't help but wonder where the man could have procured them, and most of all why.

Jehan was tempted to head his way, but that thought was interrupted by someone calling out. Adventurers? Well that was certainly him! He pivoted on spot and eyed the lad. His pitch seemed common enough, but the elf couldn't help but feel there was something that had the boy on edge, something causing him to feel a little uneasy perhaps. He vaguely heard what Torgun had to say, nodding in agreement though his attention was still on the boy.

"I'll take you up on the offer." Pulling a gold piece from his money pouch, he approached the boy, a friendly smile lingering on his lips. "Jehan's my name, and I'll be happy to pay you to watch over our horse and cart." He stopped just a little away from the boy, gold piece visible but still held safely in his hand. "I'll pay you extra if you can tell me what you know about the situation here. I think we both know something is a little... off." He paused, mostly to catch his breath rather than for effect, and then continued. "How about starting with something easy, like your name?"
 
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Greenie

Follow the Strange Trails
Posting Speed
Slow As Molasses
Writing Levels
Beginner, Elementary, Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, Androgynous, Primarily Prefer Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Passive.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, Supernatural, Horror
Genre You DON'T Like
Yaoi

Collab with Jorick Jorick

The boy near the paddock eyed the golden coin with an obvious interest, and he grinned up at Jehan. It was a good attempt at hiding his nervousness, but the uncertainty in his eyes gave it away. “My name’s Coren, nice to meet you sir.” Coren glanced away, toward the horses in the paddock, and he kept his eyes held in their direction as he continued. “Off? Uh, well, folks’ve been acting weird since about two weeks ago. Real weird. Some of them act like other people aren’t even there…” The boy cleared his throat and shuffled his feet. “I dunno what’s causing it though. It just started one day.”

"Is that so?" Jehan had his head tilted, a finger resting against his chin as he listened to what Coren had to say. One thing that had him curious was that this young lad seemed to be acting perfectly normal, aside from his nervousness. Did he too have an enchanted piece of rope on his person, or was it something else entirely?

"You seem as if you're doing fine though," he pointed out, keeping his voice steady so that the boy didn't feel as if he was accusing him or anything. "Have only certain people been afflicted, do you know? Anyone you know, perhaps?”

Coren silently chewed his lower lip for about half a minute before slowly nodding. “Most people are being weird now. When it started it was only a few, but now…” He looked up to Jehan with undisguised worry in his eyes. “My dad. He’s been doing bad things. I tried to stop him, but he didn’t listen. He took the horses and chopped them up.” Coren swallowed and talked quickly, waving a hand at the horse attached to the cart and then those in the paddock. “I told him I’m not doing this anymore and I’ll protect your horse if he shows up though, I promise!”

"Don't worry, I believe you." The boy seemed sincere enough that Jehan easily believed him, and besides, who in their right mind chopped horses up? The thought made the elf queasy, even if he knew worse things happened in the world; the idea of innocent creatures being treated so wrongly just felt revolting.

"Your father," he decided to ask, "is he around here, by any chance?" Jehan wasn't stupid enough to think he could reverse whatever had happened to the poor man, but perhaps there was something he could learn if he talked to someone affected.

“No.” Coren fell silent for a few seconds, looking up at Jehan with all the intensity of a child considering a serious matter, then gave a single nod. “You seem like a nice person. He’s probably at home. We live in the house with the blue door over there,” he turned and pointed to the northeast, off toward the eastern edge of Varden, “it’s one of the last ones before the big field in front of the monsa- er, the monta—” Coren’s face screwed up in an irritated grimace as he stumbled over the word. “The monk house. The big stone one in the hill. I can see it from my bedroom window.”

Jehan had to admit he had gotten more information than he’d thought he would. Inwardly he was quite pleased with his progress, though he did feel bad for the lad. "The monastery," he provided, nodding as he turned to squint in the direction the boy pointed to. Hm... might be worth checking it out. He couldn't see much from where he stood, but at least he knew the direction.

Looking back to Coren, he reached in his money pouch, feeling a little extra generous. "One last question, and I'll give you a silver penny as well." He pointed in the direction of the elf in the old ceremonial robes. "Have you seen those two before, particularly the elf?"

Coren’s eyes followed the pointing finger, and the moment his eyes fell on the elf in question his brow furrowed. “He’s got a real fancy dress on. I never saw him before. He must have come in at night, because I’ve been here for a while. The guy he’s yelling at was one of the adventurers that came in about a week ago, I think.” The boy shrugged and turned his attention back to Jehan, and he held his hand out for the expected coin with an eager grin.

“Interesting…” Storing that information along with the rest he had just learned, Jehan dropped the promised coins in the boy’s hand and then patted his shoulder. “Thank you, Coren. I trust you’ll watch the horse and cart. Hopefully I and the rest of my group can figure out what is happening here.” With that said, he let his hand fall to his side. “Farewell for now.”

Leaving the lad behind, Jehan moved away from the makeshift paddock. He was more than a little curious about the boy’s father, and a part of him was enthusiastic about venturing monastery’s way. The rational part of him however cautioned him to hold his horses and not head any further than he could properly see, at least not without a companion. For the time being, he decided to give the yelling elf another target, and so without further ado, he headed in that ‘fancy dress’ man’s direction.
 
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Astaroth

My sun sets to rise again.
ADMINISTRATOR
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays, One on One Roleplays, Chat Roleplays
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Speed of Light, Slow As Molasses
My Usual Online Time
It varies a lot depending on my schedule, unfortunately.
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Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Primarily Prefer Male
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
I play what's needed, but I do like to take the lead. In my one-on-ones, I often like being the "Game Master" in the sense of creating the setting, controlling NPCs, and steering the plot. But I still like input and collaboration from my partners. In group games, I prefer to be the GM or to play a leading or mentor role.
Favorite Genres
I love a little bit of everything. My top choices would be Horror, Modern Fantasy, Urban Fantasy, Magical Realism, Noir, Steampunk, Cyberpunk, Splatterpunk, Post-Apocalyptic, Historical, Mystery, old-school High Fantasy, and Sci-Fi (especially Spacesagas). I'd love to do some occasional Clockpunk or Weird West or Wuxia or Dieselpunk, too.
Genre You DON'T Like
I guess the only thing I don't particularly care for is high school drama, and even that can be fun with a good hook.
GRISELDA & LIENNE
Collaboration with firejay1 firejay1

It was funny to Lienne that they would all decide to buddy up only to almost immediately be thrust into a situation where nobody seemed to care where anyone was going or what anyone was doing. None of that made much sense to her so... she didn't see much point worrying about it.

Deciding to ignore the rest of their little group going their separate ways, she turned to the girl with the abnormally ugly face to make good on her proposition.

"Here!" she said, brightly, thrusting her hands out to cast an illusion that would make the other girl's face look like a normal one. "Much better. It doesn't hurt to look at you anymore."

The dwarf--Torgun---had been unexpectedly kind to the crippled young lady in the dark robes, and Griselda was grateful for his kindness. Swallowing her own pride, she leaned on his arm until they made it to the town proper. The other adventurers who turned blind eyes to her plight she steadfastly ignored, content to stay on the fringes of their group. It was not a new phenomenon, and she would not be brought down by such things. She had come too far and been through too much, lost so much.

She was stunned, then, when the girl with the cutting remarks made a return, appearing suddenly before her and unmistakably casting a spell. One hand flew to Griselda's cheek, gloved hands tentatively touching the ruined flesh. She felt some flake away under her fingers and grimaced.

"What did you--" she began hotly, and hurriedly grappled with a pouch at her side to produce a small silver mirror with an ornate frame. Her words halted on her lips when she caught sight of her reflection.

"Oh," she breathed, feeling a rush of heady relief to see her face appear whole again. The sight brought an unexpected surge of emotion, as well, and she blinked as her eyes stung. She hadn't expected the other girl to make good on what had seemed a cruel, empty promise. "...Thank you. "

It was even better than what Griselda could do on her own. Slightly imperfect, true, but no-one but Griselda would ever notice that. Even her twisted arm seemed to fill her sleeve more naturally.

She took back every horrible thought she'd had about the girl and her sharp tongue and ridiculous hair.

Utterly in-cognizant of the little emotional drama going on in Griselda's head, Lienne swung around before even managing to see the other girl reach for a mirror, and peered at the people around them. When she turned around again to respond, the girl seemed to have gotten some dust in her eye or something.

"Well it wasn't much problem and it doesn't do much!" she said flippantly. "It was just much too unbalanced to stand to look at. Mother would have been ashamed if I'd at all just let it slide. It'll vanish if you get too far from me, though, so stick with me, freak!"

She did another little spin to look at them all, and asked, "Who do you think looks most promising to question for information?" Her head tilted to one side, letting her hair fall over her eyes. Squinting against the light of the sun was starting to give her headache.

"I'm normally... more presentable," Griselda muttered, still captivated by her own image. "But it isn't convenient for travel."

Truthfully, she had not been sure she could trust an adventuring party traveling on the highway roads. Surely such folk might be tempted to ill acts if they thought she had the gold to spare.

Finally stowing her mirror away again, she met the other girl's eyes--or tried. It was difficult, when one of her own was useless and the other pair was obscured. She too tilted her head to the side, unconsciously mimicking her companion's actions as she took a moment to survey their surroundings.

Yes, she would be sticking close to her new friend.

"Torgun has the right idea, I think," she pronounced, finding her volume increasing and her spine straightening now her appearance was masked. "Those two in the robes seem to be worth a chat."

"What was his idea again?" the pink-haired elf asked, having not at all paid any attention to Torgun as she had looked around, and not really interested in the answer. Scooting closer to the two men Griselda was gesturing at, she could tell with some hard squinting that indeed they might be well worth the conversation. They both stank of magic. One of their party was already approaching the one yelling at another. Perhaps they were all going to meet up after asking around and share what they'd found. In which case...

"Let's go talk to the purple one!" With a nasty chuckle, she added, "It doesn't seem like his conversation partner is being very interesting or clever anyways. I bet he'd be grateful for more excitement."

Without thinking about it, Lienne reached for one of Griselda's wrists and attempted to drag the girl with her.

Unfortunately, the careless action resulted in grabbing Griselda's crippled arm. The girl winced and stumbled as the other young lady yanked her forward, tripping on her weak leg and tottering.

"Careful!" she shrieked indignantly. Once she finished flailing in an undignified manner, she was left with a distinctly uneven angry blush across her features; illusion could only do so much.

Sadly, her new companion was apparently not exactly spry, stopping Lienne in her tracks and forcing her to look back.

"Forgive me," Griselda added shortly, her manners fast recovering. "My mobility is somewhat limited, I'm afraid. I can manage just fine if we go a bit slower..."

The elf's expression twisted thoughtfully.

"I don't much like going slow, so that's going to get very annoying." She eyed the boy taking care of the horses. "We will get you a horse! Later. We can't go much faster here yet, but if you keep being so slow, you'll be very hinder-some in other places."

A horse sounded like an excellent plan, but for now Griselda was as eager as Lienne to investigate the clearly magically-inclined men in the robes, though silently she cursed herself for her own limitations as they walked together at a more stately pace.

"I'm sorry, what was your name again?" asked the crippled girl.

"You may call me Lienne Ky'heka, daughter of the Goddess of Retribution." It did not occur to her to ask the other for her name. Fortunately, she didn't need to, as it turned out.

"I'm Griselda." That was the only name she had to offer anymore, and so she left it at that. "And I'll do my best not to be too much of a hinderance, I promise. I have my talents."

She didn't elaborate on that, either. Nor did she comment on Lienne's parentage.

"Plenty of people think they have talents they do not, but if you say so," Lienne casually chattered back, before focusing on their intended target--who they were now close enough to speak to.

"HELLO THERE. YOUR CONVERSATION LOOKS BORING. We have questions about the strange things happening in this town! Do you have anything useful to say?" she asked frankly and cheerfully.

Yes. For now, aligning herself with Lienne and Torgun seemed not at all a bad plan to Griselda...
 

HerziQuerzi

Failures don't get into paradise
Roleplay Invitations
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Deidre Dydi

"A sword?" Deidre asked in response to Yazmina's question. [color]"Why in the world would I need one of those? I can give a brutal beating just as well without."[/color]

As Deidre and the others wandered into Varden, she herself made sure to avoid the paddock with a vengeance. Not only for the horses already there, but she was certain that there were supposed to be more. More that now seemed to be missing, and her without a clue in which direction. People riding horses was bad enough, but at least they tended to stick to the wider streets. Wild animals, however, were unpredictable, and the last thing Deidre needed was to be reduced to a wheezing mess within minutes of arriving. She had an impression to make.

Though, admittedly, the bar seemed low. The goblin seemed busy making a fool of himself to some elf, and the cripple - who somehow looked far less crippled than the last time Deidre had glanced back - seemed to struggle with the simple act of a brisk walk. The rest had yet to show their hand. Though both Torgun and Foulmouth - as good a name as any - had fallen back to help the cripple.

Deidre didn't understand why someone who needed so much help was even in this line of business, but she did know that she herself wasn't one for slowing down or waiting. "Ey, Yazmina," she said, pointing at Yazmina as she skipped backwards towards a nearby building, "I'm going to take a quick look about, get my bearings. Shout 'n' holler if any of ours start wandering off on their lonesome."

Spinning around to face the building she was headed towards, she tossed her staff from one hand to the next so she could wipe them dry in turn before breaking into a light run straight towards the building. Once she was a couple feet away, she planted her next step, her momentum coiling up inside her legs, golden lines always beginning to spiderweb around her feet. Then, she jumped. A foot planted against the building several feet up, another series of golden lines, and she jumped upwards again. A brief flicker of magic to her boots at the peak to hold them in place, and another jump, arms reaching out to grab the edge of the roof.

If she clambered up successfully, she planned to try and use the vantage point to get as good a map of the town worked out in her head as possible. But more than that, she'd feel her gaze drawn to the east, Tanos Vir's words about children going missing echoing off her skull. Prophetic and not yet passed, according to him, but missing eventually all the same. A particular sore point for Deidre, dredging up memories both old and fresh.
 

Jorick

Magnificent Bastard
Original poster
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Not Taking RP Invites at this Time
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One Post a Week, Slow As Molasses
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Adept, Advanced, Prestige, Douche, Adaptable
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Male, Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Usually aggressive, but can switch to passive if it makes sense for the character/scene.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy is my #1; I will give almost anything a chance if it has strong fantasy elements. Post apocalyptic, superhero, alternate history, science fantasy, some supernatural, romance, and a few fandoms (especially Game of Thrones) are also likely to catch my eye.
Genre You DON'T Like
Horror, western, pure slice of life.
Hints of Clarity

The Elf woman who'd been staring at the adventurers looked down at Wank with obvious disgust on her face before he'd even started to speak. Her demeanor certainly did not improve upon hearing the words. Behind her, through the open doorway, Wank could see the interior of a shop that held an eclectic mix of goods: bags of seed and grains, farming tools, sets of needles and threads, and then an assortment of weapons and jewelry hanging from the wall behind the counter at the far end. Close up to the Elf woman, Wank could also see that her eyes weren't quite right: they weren't glassy and empty like those of the ones wandering aimlessly through the town, rather they were piercing and intent in a way that somehow looked wrong in a way he could not identify.

"My apologies." The woman's words sounded anything but apologetic, more angry than anything else. "I didn't notice this group of newcomers consorted with a monster, else I wouldn't have bothered looking." Without saying another word, or waiting for a response, the woman stepped back inside the door of her shop and shut the door. The rasp of metal on metal that came shortly afterward made it clear that the door had been locked in some manner.

Whatever had given the Elf woman cause to ogle the group of adventurers, it was clear she wanted nothing to do with them now.



Diedre's jumping leap went just as smoothly as she could have hoped, without even so much as a struggle to pull herself up. She made her way atop her chosen building, one across the road and a little ways further in compared to the Elf woman's shop, and this one appeared to be another shop of sorts that was currently unoccupied. Her perch atop the single story building was not the best of vantage points but it was enough to get a decent view of the town since most other buildings were just as short. Most of what she spotted were things seen on the way into Varden, but there were a few extra things to be seen now. Diedre was not normally the most eagle-eyed person, but in this moment her eyes were drawn to everything of interest like bits of iron being pulled along by a magnet.

As she was clambering up onto the roof and settling into position, before looking east, three things to the north managed to catch her eye. The first was an armored woman, dressed to match the five who had been standing on the main road, rushing toward them with her face red and sweaty; Sir Toleus was just reaching that group as well, and was hailing them with a raised hand. A ways further north, beyond a bend in the road that had made it impossible to see from ground level, there was a crowd of people gathered around a house with more of those armored folks trying to keep them back, with one fellow wearing some kind of purple coat over similar armor apparently trying (and failing) to gather the crowd's attention. Even further beyond that, well north of the town proper and into the farmland beyond, Diedre managed to spot a faint but distinct little column of rising smoke. It was damned near impossible to spot if one wasn't looking for it, and she'd only managed to spot it through sheer luck in the first place.

To the east, beyond the edge of the homes that made up the bulk of the town, the stone structure that they'd all seen on the way in came into clearer focus to her suddenly sharp eyes. It looked quite old, and very small. It looked to be perhaps five feet tall and fifteen feet across, but it extended back toward a hill for thirty feet or so. There was no clear line dividing hill and building, and as she looked Diedre could see that there was definitely more than thirty feet to the flat roof: the earth of the hill had settled atop it over a long enough time to look almost entirely natural, with only a bit of unnatural flatness to it to give away the fact that the soil was resting atop a structure.

As she examined the building, movement drew her eyes to what was apparently the entrance. While the building appeared very short, it seemed it was partially buried into the ground as well as thrust into the hill. A Human man running up a set of stairs appeared to be rising from the earth itself, and as he emerged he had his hands to his mouth as if he was calling out for someone or something. He wore only grey trousers, with his feet and chest completely bare, which allowed a very clear view of dark brown skin that was not at all common in Holtania. He also had no hair atop his head, which was another oddity among Holtanian men. A pair of shorter people followed close behind, both wearing grey trousers and matching grey shirts: a Human and a Goblin, both boys and both looking quite young, and they followed the man's lead in shouting for something with hands cupped around their mouths. It was too far away to hear what they were yelling, but it was quite likely they were yelling out a name to call for a missing person or pet.



The purple-robed Human man turned to greet Lienne with a broad smile. She'd been loud enough in her approach that they heard nothing he was saying to the woman, and she slowly wandered away now that he was no longer talking to her. He was a somewhat portly man with dark hair and a clean-shaven face, and his sharp blue eyes very obviously flicked to her pink hair and the eye mark in it. "Ahh, a Scion." His gaze shifted over to Griselda and his brows rose dramatically; given the way he was peering so very closely at her right side, it was clear that he saw through the illusion. "And a survivor, the first I've met in person. Fascinating." The man reached into his robe and pulled out a small leatherbound book and a pen. He wrote as he spoke, but did not take his eyes away from the women in front of him. Griselda noticed that, unlike the pens she was used to using, this one appeared to function just fine without needing to be dipped in ink first, which was something she'd heard of as an exotic rarity but never seen before.

"You are correct, miss Scion. Speaking with the leyminds—my own term, you see, derived from the fact that their minds are overtaken by the backlash of energy from the leylines—is dreadfully boring. Unfortunately, if you also seek answers to the oddities, then I'm afraid you can't assist in my own quest for answers regarding events that took place two weeks ago." The man finished writing, glanced down briefly at his work, and then nodded before looking up to Griselda. "But I could be convinced to part with some knowledge in exchange for the tale of how you crossed Sharza and managed to live to tell the tale. I am... fond of history," he paused and chuckled with a little shake of his head, as if he'd just told an amusing little joke, "and yours is a tale I have not yet heard. A fair exchange, don't you think?" The man gave her a beaming smile, though his eyes showed only keep and probing interest rather than humor.



With the two women clearly headed for the Human, Torgun hustled past them toward the robed Elf, making it there ahead of Jehan. Yazmina trailed in his wake, blinking and rubbing at her eyes. It was like a thick cobweb was laying itself over her senses, and both sounds and sights felt oddly dimmed. The rope acquired from Tanos Vir was still secure, but she got the unmistakable sense that it was not quite enough and she would need to fight off this strange influence herself to avoid being taken by it.

"Tell me what happened two weeks ago, you imbecile!" The robed Elf had the cowering man's shirt grabbed in two hands and he was shaking the smaller figure. "Gather your wits yourself or I will throttle you to consciousness, damn it!"

"Woah there, friend!" Torgun sidled in beside the pair and held up a hand, stopping just shy of grabbing the Elf's arm. "No need for that. He's clearly got nothing to say. Why not talk to me instead, hmm?" He flashed the Elf a smile, letting that mithril tooth shine in the morning light yet again.

The Elf continued glaring at the man in his grasp for a few long seconds before giving a disgusted sigh and practically tossing him aside. He turned to Torgun with a sneer curling the corners of his mouth, and his vibrant green eyes held all the spite in the world. "You're no use to me, Dwarf. Begone lest I see fit to shake some wits into you as well. Or perhaps you should set to shaking that Scion trailing after you like a dog. She looks little better than the man I just discarded."

The Elf let out a snort of a laugh and flicked his long black hair back as Torgun cursed and turned around to see what was wrong with Yazmina. He took hold of her hand and started shaking her arm, murmuring quiet words to her in an attempt to snap her free of her daze. The robed Elf seemed ready to turn and leave, but he stopped when he spotted Jehan approaching. The disdain on his face melted into a neutral expression, and he nodded ever so slightly in greeting. "I don't suppose you know anything useful regarding whatever happened here two weeks ago, hmm?" His voice was far more civil than it had been with the others, but no reason was given. "Or have you come seeking answers too? Moon Lord, perhaps? Or just an adventurer like the others?" Moon Lords, as far as Jehan could recall, where some sort of Elven cult devoted to knowledge, though he'd only heard of them as something long gone and nearly forgotten. Whoever this elf was, it seemed his robe was not the only antiquated thing about him.
 
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Aero Blue

he hears his master's voice
Posting Speed
One Post a Week
My Usual Online Time
5-11 EST weekdays, anytime weekends.
Writing Levels
Give-No-Fucks, Adept, Advanced, Douche, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Androgynous, Primarily Prefer Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Switches have more fun
Favorite Genres
Superhero, urban fantasy, space opera, crime thriller, supernatural
“Ye, go’an: git! No meat fer you… ye… ye dubble-monster!”

Wank gesticulated wildly towards the locked door, closed fists waved above his head as he danced in off-kilter three-fourths measure - some bipolar dance that struggled to decide if it identified as celebration or pre-battle ritual. He wore a hideous grin for all of five seconds before he gave up the conceit, bowing his head away in dejection. The bejewelled lady was not the first to bestow the label of ‘monster’ upon her, and Wank doubted she would be the last. Choosing to skip past self-reflection, Wank damned the elf - and, by extension, elves in general - for their high-and-mighty, pretentious airs.

He thought better of rejoining with one of their hodgepodge collective, searching instead for another lead to antagonize follow. He vaguely recalled the armored quintet who, in their violent gestures, seemed kindred enough to Wank, if not even to each other. The sour knight from before had seemingly taken to beckoning at the group, and scurrying along even closer had revealed another.

Wank did his best emulation of a hearty, barrel-chested dwarven adventurer, which came out a gross song of cackles, “Don’t you pay attention to this lad none,” His gnarled little index finger pointed at Sir Toleus, “He’s purty on the outside, but only dung-nuts come out his mouth. Not like me; I’m beautiful insi’ and ou’!”
 

Greenie

Follow the Strange Trails
Posting Speed
Slow As Molasses
Writing Levels
Beginner, Elementary, Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female, Androgynous, Primarily Prefer Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Passive.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, Supernatural, Horror
Genre You DON'T Like
Yaoi

As he drew closer to the Elf in the archaic robes, Jehan could clearly hear the verbal thrashing that poor Torgun was receiving. It was a little disconcerting to be honest, especially when people in their right senses seemed so sparse in this poor town; you'd think a person would be a little more dignified to someone who could weave two sensible words together. And of course, there was the fact that the dwarf hadn't said anything worthy of such harsh words. Clearly the Elf thought himself high and mighty and superior to the others in Varden, and perhaps the rest of the world as well.

Jehan's gaze followed after Torgun, catching sight of Yazmina. A light frown creased his handsome face, and the concerned part of him was itching to go see if the friendlier one of the six adventurers was feeling alright. However, that was just about when the robed Elf spoke out to him. Once again it was somewhat disconcerting to note the change of tone in the Elf's tone, though Jehan was unsure why. Was it a racial issue? Or something else? Nonetheless, he strode closer, figuring Torgun would be there to aid Yazmina.

Pretty sure the Elf would regard whatever he learned from Coren as useless, Jehan decided to keep that to himself as he turned his frown upside down into a smile, addressing the fellow's other points. "An adventurer, yes, but one seeking answers as well..." Moon Lord? Goodness, what is this person, wearing old clothes and speaking of older things? It's as if he's been asleep for centuries! He himself had only heard of the cult in passing years ago from his father, or perhaps it was his grandfather- at this point, it was hard to remember.

Forcing his thoughts back to the situation at hand, he continued to speak. "I'm here to find out what is happening in Varden, for the most part. May I ask of your findings? I'm sure someone of your status must have some insight into what is happening to this place. Perhaps we may have information the other may find valuable?" A little compliment here and there couldn't go amiss, right? Perhaps even sweeten the Elf's mood into divulging what exactly was his deal?
 
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HerziQuerzi

Failures don't get into paradise
Roleplay Invitations
Group Roleplays
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One Post a Week
Writing Levels
Adept, Advanced, Douche, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Primarily Prefer Female
Favorite Genres
Fantasy of varying types. Some sci-fi.
Deidre Dydi

Deidre hopped down from the roof, using her boots to help break her fall. She looked around confused for a moment, trying to spot Yazmina. Proper typical that the one she asked to keep an eye on any wanderers took to wandering off herself.

Finally noticing her by Torgun, Jehann, and some elf, Deidre jogged over, already opening her mouth to scold the other woman.

"And where were you popping off to-" she started, but cut off as she noticed the way Torgun was inspecting her. Taking a look herself, crowding the stranger elf as she stepped back to get a good angle, she noticed the dazed eyes and general lack of focus. She gave the woman a friendly and thorough slap across the face to see if that helped.

It didn't.

"That's well and good, isn't it? Gods. Torgun, can you lead her around for now? She might snap out of it in a touch, and I'd rather not leave her stranded like a crawling toddler left wayward at market. And we can't wait around for her here.

"Took a look about, and there's some fire going off north of town. In the farmland."
She gives Torgun a pointed look. "Where the farmers are. Like the dead ones our rope boy warned us about." As was her way, she was already moving before she'd finished talking, let alone before waiting for a response.

She gave Jehann a hearty pat on the shoulder as she passed. "You're looking busy, but jog on after us once you're done, yeah?"
 
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firejay1

The Phoenix
Roleplay Invitations
Not Taking RP Invites at this Time
Posting Speed
Several Posts a Day, A Few Posts A Day, One Post a Day, A Few Posts a Week, One Post a Week
My Usual Online Time
My times are pretty erratic, but it's only really rare to see me PST 3-11am. I'm on most of the time.
Writing Levels
Intermediate, Adept, Advanced, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Fine doing both! Sometimes I end up aggressive, if no one else is contributing to plot, or if there's one person I feel like is taking over, but if everyone's contributing equally to the pool of ideas, I just let them go ahead and do it.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy, Slice-of-Life, Modern.
Genre You DON'T Like
Horror, Psychedelic, Gory (gore I can handle as long as it's not gore for gore's sake).
GRISELDA & LIENNE
Collaboration with Astaroth Astaroth & Jorick Jorick

Griselda bowed her head at the stranger's pointed comments and inquiries, her dark bangs providing an additional obstruction along with her half-mask and hood. She was thankful, at least, that his intellectual curiosity seemed to outweigh any measure of scorn or disgust he might feel for what she had done.

"I am obliged to meet a fellow academic," she replied in a soft tone, "and so I shall satisfy your interest. I believe the Lady would prefer that my tale was spread, so it is more than even exchange."

Her eyes flicked towards Lienne for only a moment. Her newfound companion was an oddity herself, but was also a Scion; it was anyone's guess how she might react when Griselda's past came to light. If she would abandon Griselda, it was better that she do so now rather than later.

"It is not a particularly long or impressive tale, I am afraid." She lifted her head to meet the robed man's gaze, one milk-colored eye and one amber peering from beneath Lienne's illusion. "I chose to pursue studies not sanctioned by my teachers, and in a moment of grief, I made a foolish mistake. I was... very fortunate that I realized my error and repented before completing the deed. What you see is what my Lady deemed 'fair exchange' for my life.

"I would be willing to tell you more details later when other matters are less pressing, but I would first like to hear more of what you know about Varden and these... 'leyminds', did you call them? A very fitting term. I hope you won't mind if I adopt it myself."

"Oh yes, we do love our fair exchanges, don't we?" The Human fellow chuckled, glancing down at his book once more; he'd been writing while Griselda spoke, again keeping his eyes upward instead of watching what he was doing. From what she could see, the writing seemed to be immaculate and lacking in any smudges despite this seemingly careless writing. "So you did not cross the critical threshold and repented? Very interesting. That is quite similar to what I've heard from others who have survived the grim lady's attentions. The details can indeed wait, as you are correct about more pressing matters being afoot. The leyminds, and you are of course welcome to the term, are symptoms of a much deeper problem."

The man cleared his throat and looked from Griselda to Lienne and back again, his eyes full of cautious calculation. He seemed to approve of whatever he saw, given the small nod he gave with a quiet murmur under his breath. When he spoke, his voice had lost its cheery tone and was instead far more serious, but in the way one might deliver a lecture rather than when discussing grave matters of life and death. "This is not my area of expertise," for a moment his eyes flicked away, toward where Jehan was speaking to the robed Elf, "and certain things cannot be said, but this much I can explain. Something happened here two weeks ago, something that has not occurred in the last two hundred years. It caused a great surge of magical energy that made the leylines... flood is the best word for it. To oversimplify it, leylines are like irrigation channels, but for the raw essence of magic instead of water. When those overflow, the crops are damaged by excess water. So too here, but the people are the ones affected."

The Human paused and chewed his lower lip for a moment, then scribbled something hastily in his book while continuing. "Magic is a strange thing, such that even I hardly understand it. It is not exactly sentient, much less sapient, but it has a sort of will of its own. It seeks to enforce a status quo upon whatever it affects, and mages making use of it are invariably disrupting that status quo. Here in Varden we instead see the overwhelming force of magic enforcing a status quo upon people instead, and since it lacks its own mind to decide what 'normal' is, it's taking taking averages from the populace and pushing people to pursue their own deepest desires."

He laid the pen down on his book and held it with one hand, lifting the other in a fist to raise a finger for each listed item. "Adventurers are known to carouse and fight, so they do so in the tavern. Farmers are known to just tend to their crops, so they do. Men with violent tendencies grow extraordinarily violent while dissatisfied wives seek excitement elsewhere. Orcs behave like mindless brutes, Elves become insufferably arrogant, so on and so forth." The Human let his hand fall to rest on his book, and he peered closely at both Griselda and Lienne as if to ensure that they were paying full attention. "And of course, this overflowing wellspring of magic draws nefarious attention, and once such persons enter the field of influence they are drawn relentlessly toward acts of malice and evil, perhaps even moreso than whatever they initially planned to do. It's a self-feeding cycle of ill intent, and it has in the past been the cause of terrible calamities."

With that said, the serious tone slid away and was quickly replaced with the same cheer from earlier. "There's no stopping it, so far as I'm aware. Mitigating the ill effects seems to be the best course of action, but who can say if a handful of adventurers can make a difference? I do look forward to recording whatever transpires, and it promises to be quite exciting." He gave the two women a broad smile, then started hurriedly writing in his book once more, this time actually looking down at the pages as he worked.

Lienne perked up immediately at the mention of the grim lady Sharza, and although Griselda's story was disappointingly lacking in details, the excitement splashed across her face didn't relent even with the robed man's little lecture, though he was rather boring when it came to explaining things. He had a way of talking that made even interesting things sound boring if you weren't paying attention. "You are an odd little man." She told him, eyes still somewhat obscured by her hair to make it easier to see. "It's a very hopeless situation to be very cheerful about," she herself didn't seem too terribly broken up about it, "and I don't think it's very likely you'll survive to record everything that happens. But you have been very helpful, thank you!" She dipped into a little half-bow, half-curtsey that succeeded mostly in being neither.

Turning to Griselda, she spoke as if the human they had been talking to was no longer standing right next to them, fully able to hear anything they were saying. "So the ordinary people become more extreme, because something happened two weeks ago... I don't feel any more insufferably arrogant than usual, but this human certainly looks much more scribbly than the average person, so it may be happening without us really noticing ourselves, before we become leyminds. That's right!" She switched topics abruptly in a transition that only made sense in her head. "Didn't the sniveling apprentice we met at the front say something about visions of something bad happening in specific places? If we can't ask about what exactly happened two weeks ago, perhaps he knows something about those."

The man finished his writing and looked up at Lienne with confusion clear on his face. "You think me unlikely to survive? A curious assertion, to be sure. In fact, I am..." He pursed his lips for a moment and glanced once more toward the robed Elf, then cleared his throat and put on another genial smile, though this one looked a bit stiff. Griselda could feel a sudden twinge of unfamiliar magic from him, but could not identify it. Lienne, however, recognized it immediately as illusion magic: something very strong, something that had already been in effect, but it had wavered just enough to let a hint of some other magical energy peek through for a fraction of a second.

"I may know a thing or two about certain events transpiring elsewhere, but I deal only in trade. Interesting stories I've not yet heard for something you've not yet heard. There's hardly any reason for me to meddle in these affairs unless I'm getting something out of it, now is there?" The Human stood with his pen ready to write, one eyebrow raised expectantly, but his eyes moving slowly back and forth between Griselda and Lienne made it clear the offer was open to them both.

Lienne didn't quite flinch when the man's illusion faltered for a moment, but her expression tightened for a moment, before going rapidly through first irritation, then surprised interest. What resulted was her face squished up in an awkward cross between two extremes that was thankfully only partially visible to the others present. "Are you a servitor? Or a god? Hmm... or something... else?"

The idea of "else" displeased her greatly and she threw up a thick layer of illusory shadow so she could brush back her hair and get a better look at him, unintentionally also engulfing Griselda in the heavy darkness. She hardly gave him room to respond, though. "Well! I don't have any particularly interesting stories that I know you haven't heard." Her lips were pursed in something of a pout as she inspected him, arms crossed. "But I would think it be more in your interest to tell someone what you know, or else we'll just keep on wandering around missing the fun things. That's bound to make your story less interesting. Besides. What's the point of knowing things and writing down stories if you aren't interested in sharing them?" Persuasiveness had never been one of Lienne's strong suits.

"Very demanding, isn't he?" She said, half to Griselda. "Just like mother."
 
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Jorick

Magnificent Bastard
Original poster
Roleplay Invitations
Not Taking RP Invites at this Time
Posting Speed
One Post a Week, Slow As Molasses
Writing Levels
Adept, Advanced, Prestige, Douche, Adaptable
Genders You Prefer Playing
Male, Female
Playing Style- Passive or Aggressive
Usually aggressive, but can switch to passive if it makes sense for the character/scene.
Favorite Genres
Fantasy is my #1; I will give almost anything a chance if it has strong fantasy elements. Post apocalyptic, superhero, alternate history, science fantasy, some supernatural, romance, and a few fandoms (especially Game of Thrones) are also likely to catch my eye.
Genre You DON'T Like
Horror, western, pure slice of life.
The Elf speaking to Jehan sighed and flicked a hand dismissively over his shoulder. "One of these troglodytes did something they shouldn't have even known was possible. It was made taboo knowledge for precisely this reason, you know. My leylines go haywire when..." He trailed off and pursed his lips together tightly for a moment. "Well. Details and complicated truths aside, the leylines in this area are surging. They are by their very nature an imposition of order on chaos, and when they surge powerfully enough to affect mortal minds they continue to work to impose order. This causes some undesirable side effects, such as murder and mayhem, and that's to say nothing of the fools who think themselves capable of harnessing such vast energy without getting sucked into the vortex themselves."

He suddenly looked away sharply as his eyes went hazy, but not in the same way as those affected by the leylines. Instead there was a milky white film pulled over the pupils and irises, each sparking with little specks of gold light here and there. It did not take an archmage to understand that this was some kind of magic at work, but Jehan couldn't feel a thing coming from the Elf, nor did he recognize what was being done. "Son of a bitch, is he..." Where his voice had been full of self-possessed arrogance, now it was full of confusion and a hint of fear.

Deidre passed by and gave Jehan a pat on the shoulder that distracted him for a moment. When he looked back, the Elf was staring straight at him with those straightly veiled eyes. He cleared his throat and spoke once more, words coming rapidly and unsteadily. "Ah, you seem like a respectable Elf, so I'll give you a little nudge in the right directions if you're looking to mitigate the worst of the effects. Kidnappings to the east and west, invaders to the north. Those three are the ones most likely to bring terrors to Varden, though there are myriad other troubles to be sure. I doubt you'll be able to handle any of them on your own, so be sure to bring some of the rabble along if you wish to live. Good luck, Jehan."

One second the robed Elf was standing there, the next he was entirely gone. Jehan had a vague impression of blue light and the Elf somehow melting into the ground, but it had been so quick that it was hard to be certain. There were, however, a few certain things to take from the brief conversation: the Elf had possessed very unusual magics, they had been masked well enough that his own magical senses perceived nothing at all when they were used, and he had known Jehan's name despite the lack of an introduction. It all likely left behind more questions than answers, but it had not been a fruitless conversation, at least.

Torgun was holding Yazmina's hand now and he pulled her over to Jehan; the large woman did not resist the guidance at all. "Did that fancy bastard just up and vanish, or were my eyes playing tricks on me?" From the way he was staring at the spot on the ground where Jehan had seen him apparently fall into the earth, it seemed the question was more rhetorical than anything else. "Learn anything useful before the disappearing act? I was busy dealing with our suddenly mindless friend here and only heard the bits about leylines going crazy."



The illusory darkness didn't seem to bother the Human in the slightest. He grinned at Lienne's initial questions, but he said nothing as she made her argument for assistance. It wasn't until she spoke to Griselda that he finally reacted aloud: he laughed, a sudden and boisterous sound. "How rude! I am nothing like Elvoth." Lienne of course recognized her mother's name instantly; Griselda, thanks to her years of education, also recognized the name as that of the Goddess of Retribution. "Well, except in the most fundamental sense. I am, in fact, a god."

He opened his mouth to speak further, but his eyes darted sharply to the side, toward the robed Elf. "Ah, and it seems the angry one has sensed something. This should be interesting." He turned back to the women and gave them an apologetic smile. "My apologies for ill manners. I am Berzen, better known as the God of History. The fact of the matter is that events shall be of interest to me regardless of what happens, for it shall all be history once it passes. The sharing is less important than the recording, you see."

Berzen paused, cocking his head to the side a bit, and another chuckle bubbled forth. "It appears the God of Leylines took a liking to your Elf friend and gave him some helpful pointers. And there he goes." The Elf god was already gone by the time he finished saying the words. "I suppose I can share the same information he volunteered, now that the proverbial cat is out of the bag. There are invaders to the north, orcs I believe, and two rather different sorts of kidnappings that have just recently occurred. A child from the large stone structure to the east, and a girl taken to the west. That should be enough to get you adventurer sorts moving in the right directions, I think." Berzen started writing in his book once more, eyes down and seemingly oblivious to Lienne and Griselda now that he had more or less dismissed them.



Wank heard a scoff from behind him, and noted perhaps for the first time yet another man sidling to the fore amidst all the commotion. "Neither appearance nor petty gossip alone are much use in the judgement of a man's character," he started, nose twitching from some foul stench. "Though in your case I might make an exception."

Of pale hair and paler complexion, he had the look of a knight—and judging by the make of his sparse armour, Holtanian. The man was unsurprisingly much taller than the goblin, and looked down upon him with eyes far less dismissive than his word might otherwise have implied. The distraction was only momentary, however, as he turned back to those gathered—Sir Toleus included—with an open smile.

"So. What's all this fighting on about?"

Sir Toleus and the armored fellows had halted their talk when Wank inserted himself into the beginnings of a conversation, and then all eyes turned to the newcomer as he joined in. The knight sneered at the goblin, then turned his attention to Amel with a rigid smile on his face that did not reach his eyes as he examined the not-quite-normal skin of the Scion's face. "I was just asking these fellows what the problem seemed to be, and they—"

"What isn't a fucking problem these days?" One of the armored folks, a woman, spoke up with a note of strained panic in her voice. Amel recognized the emblem on her armor, seen on the arms and banners of knights competing in tournaments held elsewhere in Holtania: a silver sickle crossed with a silver staff on a white background, the coat of arms of Lord Bornar of Varden. "More'n half of our number are mindless husks, the farmers are talking nonsense about trolls, and folks keep disappearing. It's getting worse day by day!" The five folks wearing Lord Bornar's crest immediately set to talking amongst themselves once again, a jumbled mix of talking over one another that made it hard to make out any details of their speech.

Sir Toleus sighed and gestured to the woman. "Yes, they were saying that, before the little..." He glanced at Wank with another sneer before turning his eyes back to Amel. "Creature interrupted us. Your presence is for more tolerable, sir. Are you an adventurer as well, or are you sworn to the local lord?"

"Not to the local lord, no; but I am here to help." He watched disapprovingly as the others started arguing again. "And it seems Archmage Therios was right to seek it out. How much have you been able to make out?" As he spoke, he also stepped forward into the group, raising his voice in an attempt to gain control. "And I have some questions of my own. The mindless ones, are they feeding themselves? Can they be contained?"

Sir Toleus simply nodded at the explanation, and he turned to face the others along with Amel as he asked his question. The furor quieted a bit, and the same women who spoke before pulled away to answer the questions while the other four kept on squabbling. Now that it was slightly calmer, Amel could make out the discussion at hand: whether or not to desert their lord and flee Varden.

The armored woman shrugged one shoulder. "Yeah, they feed themselves. Don't know about containing them though. They're just goin' about their business like nothing's wrong, even though they're doin' strange things. Some got violent and got tossed in the dungeon, and they're still there far as I know, but there are too many people to really try to contain all of 'em." She sighed and shook her head. "Not that it'd do any good. Court wizard thought it was a disease at first and kept people separated, but it didn't stop anything. Now his mind's gone too. Fat lot of good his magic did him, eh?" The woman let out a snort of a laugh and turned back to her compatriots, speaking firmly and cutting over the lot of them to say they had a duty to protect the town no matter what happened.

"Huh, wouldn't have taken her for the honorable sort. Interesting." Sir Toleus gave the woman an appraising look before turning to Amel. "Seems they're just about as useless as the local guards of every small town I've been to. I'd been hoping to get an escort to speak to Lord Bornar personally, but I think I'd be better off on my own. Do you have any plans on how to deal with this mess of a town?" It was said casually, but there was a glint of greedy interest in his eyes that betrayed the tone.

"Not as such, no; there's still more I need to learn about the influence of the corrupted leylines." He held out his hand to the other knight. "Good luck with Lord Bornar; I intend to scrounge together whatever order I can from the town. Should you require my aid, Sir Amel is the name to call."

"And I am Sir Toleus, Knight of the Second Order of the Mactian Empire. A pleasure, I'm sure. Good luck with your search for information." Amel knew enough about the world to understand that among the complicated ranks of the Mactian military structure, a Knight of the Second Order was essentially the same as a regular knight from any other nation. The First Order was made up of those who had distinguished themselves enough to earn lands and titles of their own, while the Grand Order knights were those who formed the royal guard. Sir Toleus gave Amel a polite bow of his head before turning on heel and walking away, making a quick detour down a side street in an apparent bid to take the straightest line possible to the lord's domicile.

A short time later, Deidre was nearing the group of armored folk and Wank. Her trek northward was slightly interrupted by something she'd spotted from the roof: a running woman, also armored, who stopped with her feet skidding along the dirt road thanks to the momentum, and she did not wait to steady her feet before shouting at her fellows. "Come quickly!" Her words came strained and breathless, but the urgency was apparent. "Lady Anessa has gone missing, spirited away across the river by someone using foul magics! Lord Bornar has ordered all guards back to the keep immediately." The five armored folks who Wank and Amel had addressed exchanged looks, and while a few looked reluctant they were quickly herded into motion by the woman who had spoken in favor of doing their duty.

The runner stood catching her breath for a moment as they left, then eyed the three before her with some obvious desperation: Amel got a quick approving nod, Deidre got a longer look before getting a nod, and Wank got a hard stare followed by a sigh and a more defeated sort of nod. "Adventurers, yeah? We're short-handed, what with so many folks acting funny lately. I'm sure Lord Bornar will offer handsome rewards to anyone who helps get his daughter back safely. Can't promise nothing, but he's a good man who cares deeply for his family. Gave a handful of gold to a fellow who rescued his son's cat from a tree, so just imagine what you'd get for saving his only daughter." The woman followed her appeal to greed with another sharp nod to the lot of them, then turned round and started running back the way she'd come, kicking up dust with each heavy footfall.