R
ResolverOshawott
Guest
Original poster
Sorry about the inconvienience, but we're full up at the moment, there's no spaces left. ^^;I like, want to join this but the other participants here scare me
Yeah, of course. Spaces, when opened up, can be revisited for those who wanted them. So when they're open, make sure to check back and see if you're still up for roleplaying with us, @ResolverOshawott! ^^Though I think that if anyone drops out or suddenly becomes inconvenienced by real life free spaces will reappear to be filled. No, @Arcadia Lumina ? ^^
@ResolverOshawott And why do people here scare you? xD
Accepted :DName:
Laineth Nórui
Age:
23 (In human years)
Race:
Elf
Class:
Blackguard
Moral Alignment:
Chaotic Neutral
Personality:
Not known as one of the most forward thinking of elves, Laineth enjoys living in the moment. She makes impulsive decisions and, even though these choices usually lead to trouble, never allows her optimism to sway.
Skills:
1. Archery: With bow and arrow in hand, foes fall one by one as they're shot from a distance.
2. Bowfighter: A skill to combat the most glaring weakness of an Archer. Arrows can be used to stab and the bow can be used as a makeshift staff, keeping opponents at a distance.
3. Pickpocketing: The deft fingers that are used to loose arrows are just as effective in quickly pilfering someone's pocket without them noticing.
4. Arrowsmithing: An Archer is nothing without an arrow, thus making your own in the wild is essential. The skill allows for the easy and quick crafting of arrows, instead of the timely and arduous task it would've been.
5. Survivalist: From knowing which wood would make the best coals to what berry isn't meant for consumption, being a survivalist allows for, obviously, surviving in the great outdoors.
Traits:
Quickdraw: As an archer, you can fire more arrows with faster speed.
Elementalist: As an experiment, you began to craft elemental arrows for your bow. You can now do elemental damage.
Inventory:
Bow with accompanying quiver (contains 24 arrows)
Leather armour with metal accents (as pictured)
A hard day of toiling in the sun had finally come to an end. Sweat soaked men were entering the Drunken Ox, the only inn situated inside of their little town, to wet their dry throats. It had become a ritual of the farmers in the community to gather there at the dawn of dusk. To talk loudly of their nagging wives or naughty children. To partake in games of chance or hear news from the other parts of the land if a travelling merchant or band of adventurers had come to retire there for the evening. The latter was quite a rare occurrence, one that happened that day.
A man and his entourage had arrived earlier that afternoon with a wagon, towed by two mules, proving to the villagers that he was likely a salesman of some kind. Unfortunately, to many a maid and child's dismay, the wagon was covered up to make the wares on sale indeterminable. The few who were able to sneak a peak under the tarp were only treated to the sight of a heavy, square chest. The merchant had quickly retired to a room after trading words with the burly innkeeper known as Garth. He had requested news to be spread around town. Everyone was to gather at the inn the evening to witness the miraculous item he had for sale. Garth had immediately spread the word, since it would mean a lot of customers for him as well. Mystery was what ensured every soul showed up that night. The mystery of what was in the chest that the male half of the two guards took inside just before the sun started hiding its face.
“Exactly as planned,” Chunta muttered to himself as he came down the stairs, a sea of faces watching him expectantly. He paused on the landing where the stairs turned ninety degrees to the left and stroked at his beard. Chunta the merchant was preparing himself mentally for the performance he he now knew by heart. The chest was at the top of the stairs and he had a sample of the product in the breast pocket of his coat. The dark haired man took a final, deep breath and fell into his practised speech, a silken voice filling the room.
Outside the two apparent guards turned their backs on the inn, the audience now captivated. The night was clear, as the sunny day had been, a waxing moon taking the place of the sun. It allowed the two, clad in earthen colours, enough light for their plan whilst allowing them enough cover to stay unnoticed. Not that there was anyone left in the town to notice them. Windows were dark and houses were silent. The town had been as predictable as the others they had visited, flocking at the whisper of something new and exciting.
The sharp click from the lock's metal encasing rang in the dark as Marcus retracted the iron pick from the hole. He was losing his touch with all the easy locks of late, but he didn't give the thought perch in his mind. His partner turned the handle and pushed open the door, quickly entering. This was the routine the evening followed as they broke into each home, sniffing out anything of worth and hiding it back in their wagon. It was speedy work, since Chunta could only keep the people of the town occupied for so long with his snake-oil. The homes had very little to offer. Some silver in the form of religious symbols or family heirlooms and the odd uncut precious stone, gifts from husbands who hoed them out of the ground. They picked the houses clean, the general store and what passed as their smithy following suit, and hoped Chunta was able to do the same with the pockets of the folk eagerly listening to his lies.
Marcus finally pulled the final door for the evening shut behind him. In front of him, with a plump little sack over her shoulder, walked his partner in crime. The past few weeks had grown dull much more quickly for her. The routine of scouting out a new village each time and then reusing their ruse gave little of the excitement she craved. It was lucky for her then that Chunta had promised this would be their final town.
“I can't wait to be back in the city again!” exclaimed Laineth as she tucked the bag under the tarp with the many other ones. Marcus found his seat behind the reins of the already tethered mules, the young elf planting herself next to him. It was an odd trio, but one that worked thus far. A human, orc and elf. Most of the time a hood was enough to allow unfettered travel in judgemental towns, but the little ones they had visited never bothered with the lackeys of a “mechant”.
“The swaying is not for me,” Marcus replied curtly, ushering the tow animals into slow movement. If they had timed it correctly, Chunta would appear at any moment, having made some excuse to go outside.
“Scared of hurling again the entire trip? Bowed over the railings like a kid over a dad's lap?” The she-elf teased, leaning back to look at the dim stars in the sky.
“Blubber you fed...” his response was cut short as a door burst open. Chunta, half stumbling, half running, emerged from the light of the inn. A ruckus followed him, a flask passing over his shoulder and shattering on the ground.
“We need to go! We need to go!” Chunta shouted as more shadows filled the doorway of the in. The mules started at a trot, allowing Chunta to gain on the wagon, but the people of the town were gaining as well. The glances he threw over his didn't help his speed. A yelp escaped is lips as a mug hit him between the shoulder blades. Another stumble, but quick feet regained their balance.
By now Laineth was reversed in her seat, digging around for the only thing she could think of that would keep the people of the town at bay. The once quiet night was now filled with a cacophony of shouts and boots on earth. At last she pulled out her weapon of choice, along with its ammunition. She found her feet on the wagon that travelled on uneven road. Nocked an arrow and pulled back on the string. Aimed at the men, causing them to pause for only a stride, and then at the ground in front of their feet.
At that moment Chunta grabbed the back panel of the wagon and flung himself on board, Marcus whipped the mules into a faster pace and the wagon hit a rock.
It's a very nice app, but I'm sorry, but I can't accept it until I see a writing sample. I want to see what you come up with ^^;[Fieldbox=Arion Equium, White]
Age: 32
Race: Fae
Class: Chromaturgy Mage
Moral Alignment: Chaotic Good
Personality:Impulsive, Vicious, and adaptable Arion does not show outward aggression often. He is however quick to use violence, especially against those who he sees as cruel and malicious. An eye for an eye after all.
Skills:
Blue Chromaturgist: Manipulates abundant blue light into weapons, armor, traps, and other objects.
Ultraviolet Chromaturgist: Harnessing light that is invisible to the eye Arion can create invisible objects. Extremely difficult to master, and often does not work. Due to the nature of ultraviolet light, the "Color" does not reflect in Arion's eyes
Acrobatic: Capable of movements that require dexterity, balance, and strength. Arion is also adept at climbing
Blade dancer: Adept at wielding single handed bladed weapons in conjunction with his acrobatic abilities. His favorite choice of arms is wielding two blue light short blades.
Trap Maker: Arion has spent several years studying traps both lethal and non-lethal. This knowledge gives Arion a greater capability to create more complex traps out of light.
Traits
Swell of the tide
Conversationalist
Inventory
Light Armor set
Altered mage's robes
[/fieldbox]
Sorry about how long this took. I have spent the last couple of days trying to make a good writing sample and so far I have not been able to write one I like lol....
ACCEPTED :DView attachment 82374
Saeja
Tenebrose Miasma
Blackguard
Chaotic Neutral
Personality
The perfect balance between crazy and collected. Outwardly, Saeja is playful, flirty, and adventurous. That is, when you're not his target. Only then does his inner personality leak through - cool and calm and ruthless. He's prone to episodes of what might be seen as "paranoia" and will mutter to himself and jitter like a crack addict.
Skills
Death-Touched | the ability to become intangible; time is the enemy
Voices In My Head | the will of the goddess whispers in his ear; he whispers back
Friends In Dark Places | controlling weak-willed shadows, mist, and smoke
Simon Says | freshly dead or long since buried, the call to rise does not discriminate; humans are beyond his talent
Thiefy Murder | stealing and killing come naturally to someone so agile and silent and deft with his strikes
Traits
Jackalope Slash | As a Blackguard who wields daggers, you have a spring in your step, meaning your jump is just as deadly. You have increased agility.
Shadowstep | Blackguards have the ability to almost fade into the background, and blend into the crowds and the darkness, preventing them from being seen.
Inventory
Lamellar Armor under a silken cloak with clasp
Dual Daggers
Sample
Cradled in the thick, inky restraints of a lonely Noctis spire, he heard a voice. Sweet, like sugar, although he couldn't quite be sure what sugar even tasted like because he couldn't recall. What did anything taste like? The voice appealed to him a second time and tugged and pulled at his bindings. Darkness stretched and peeled from the spire walls with his efforts like a stubborn ebony dough. The spire wasn't so willing to relinquish its power source.
But the voice.
Surreal and velvety song.
Seh called him to waken, to rise again, and so one by one the stretchy shadows snapped under his renewed will.
The last strand broke and he stood finally free; the test passed, the goddess pleased. She offered him his deepest desire. But there would be a price.
There was always a price.
Noctis faded. He took his first breath of rebirth. A name and an image lingered in his mind. A task. One of what would be many...
Accepted :DEren Ytar, #FFAA00 Name: Eren Ytar
Age: 21
Race: Human
Class: Nature Magi (earth)
Moral Alignment: Lawful neutral
Personality: Independent, Adventurous, Patient, Affable, Valiant.
Appearance:
Skills:
1: Nature magic - Using the surrounding nature he can use the aura to heal himself or others
2: Poisoned arrows - (carrying vials of poisons made from his travels he dips his arrows into for battle)
3: Alchemy - a live in the forests has made Eren aware of useful herbs and harmful
4: Trap expertise - perfected simple hunting traps (spring traps/ net traps etc)
5: Tracking - Able to track various things.
Traits:
1: Coat of arms
2: Conservationist
Inventory:
leather and bark armor
Bow and quiver
Writing sample:
Check Blog for a sample
Writing sample In the distance shrouded by thick white snowy clouds and mist was Mount Horndon. Alice was aiming to reach the mountain by summers last day, last thing she wanted to be was an icicle once the storm came. Along her path to the mountain she lead her goat Sherman and the attached cart. She was never one to settle down in one village she had been travelling for the majority of her life, after her father died. She needed to find somewhere to belong, something or someone she could care for.
Alice took a moment to look at the wooden bridge that would take her onto the lower mountain slopes, the glistening glitter of snow that twinkled faintly in the wind and the high sun that glistened on top of the icy puddles was a sight she had not seen before, She had climbed many mountains but never a Snowy one.
They had been travelling for just over a day from the nearest town south of the mountain. It was a old village tiny cottages a big church, and alot of fields. Envir was more of a farmers town then anything, there wasnt much to look at, Alice didnt want to wait around she had heard word of Tarwa, a clan of mystics had summoned Nire - a legend a bed time story passed through generations.
Nire was a magnificent stag that stood tall and proud, White dense fur like the snow, Crystal antlers that shimmered in the sun light.
She pressed on and gently crossed the wooden draw string bridge, the planks old and fractured, large gaps in-between each one where they had eroded from the harsh winters. Sherman did not want to move across the bridge even with Alice trying her hardest to pull the rope. Sherman eventually gave in when Alice held a carrot in eye sight. - It didn't take long until they were across. Sherman looked over joyed, with a bounce in his step he began to climb up the narrow pathways pulling the cart attached to him. whilst alice was hunched over trying to get her breath back from pulling Sherman across the bridge.
Alice looked up to see Sherman climbing the mountain side "Look Sherm there's a cave just up there, we can rest there!" - Alice was exhausted they had walked over just a whole day from the nearest town.
The sun was setting creating silhouettes of the furthest mountains, it was a sight to behold the birds flying above hunting, the trees swaying in the gentle breeze. Alice lit her lanterns on her cart as it began to get darker. The cave was just up ahead, it was only small for what she could see but any shelter was going to be better then anything.
The faint humming of crackles and the crunch of pressed snow echoed faintly as they arrived at the mouth of the cave, she unhooked the cart from Sherman and dragged it in near the walls so it couldn't roll anywhere. The cave was bigger then what she expected and looked as if it had already been used in previous days , there was a old camp fire and markings on the wall of symbols and figure drawings.
"Look Sherman!, there's a goat!" Alice shrieked, she turnt her head to look at Sherman who had already fallen asleep on a blanket under the cart. Alice giggled at the site of her goat asleep. 'he did well today' she muttered under her breath.
Alright, looking forward to it. Once it's up and I have a look at it, we can get things on the road.@Arcadia Lumina
I am still here. Its been a busy week with my work schedule and I have not gotten on a PC in the last 5 days. I will have your writing sample for my character finished tomorrow night at the latest.
No bother Dawn! Going anywhere nice? :)Just a heads up. I won't be able to post until Monday at the earliest. I'm going away for the weekend. :/ Sorry about this, guys.