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Burger Warrior

Member Since 07 May 2011
Offline Last Active Today, 03:37 PM

#485632 ZONE - The Forbidden Halls of Clan Dimmlundar

Posted by Burger Warrior on 18 September 2017 - 03:02 PM

Korvarl shook his head with a heavy sigh, glancing at Valya. “We’re both lucky and unlucky, lass.” He decided. “Yer somehow not booby-trapped to death, but we’re gonna need a key. These things ain’t like nothin’ I’ve had t’break before.”

 

The sound of footsteps descending behind them prompted the dwarf to lay a hand on his weapon as he turned back toward the way he came… though he relaxed noticeably when he recognized it was just Malvolio and Allya coming to check on them. And give me paperwork. He noted silently, eyeing the sheaf of documents in the Templar’s grip. “Ah, just what I was looking forward to. Reading for the illiterate…” He muttered dryly. It was mostly a jest - he knew humans that could afford that much plate armor tended to be given some kind of education. Just not the kind that was useful when delving into old dwarf ruins.

 

Hard as it was to read by torchlight, Silvershield did his damnedest to skim the papers, grumbling at every useless document. “Bloody census-”

 

"THIS IS AMAZING!" Elnira’s voice had become slightly squeaky again as it pierced the darkness - and Korvarl’s darkening mood. He didn’t resist as she took the paper out of his hands, beaming widely. "This is exactly what I was looking for! Thank you!"

 

She kissed his cheek excitedly, and ran over to look at more papers.

 

Even under his thick beard and in the darkness, it was hard not to notice Korvarl blushing. He cleared his throat gruffly, trying his best to cover up as he looked through more of the documents… though his gaze did flicker back toward Elnira, each time bringing a small smile to his lips.

 

He’d scarcely finished reading with a small sigh of relief and a rub of his tired eyes when the Templar cut into his thoughts, however. "What do they say?" Malvolio asked. "Anything of use to us?"

 

“Surprisingly, aye.” The dwarf nodded, carefully stacking the papers again. “We’re gonna need to find King Hreidmar himself. Or rather, what’s left of him. Both th’ key to this place - an’ every vault in the city, sounds like - an’ Dainsleif are on ‘im, or at least in ‘is quarters. No point in lootin’ without snatchin’ both first.” Korvarl finished, tucking the papers under one arm. “So… unless you wanna check fer booby traps on these vaults the hard way, let’s get to ‘is palace. It’s tha’ big building in the center, or I’m six feet tall.”

 

------

 

Percula had gladly stayed by Caid as they - and Agethar and his dog - headed to the local temple in the hopes of finding the others. Halfway there Caiden’s stomach made quite a bit of a racket, and the pixie gave him a funny look; it was almost teasing as she eyed him up, though she quickly stopped before Agethar noticed, hopefully. She almost forgot he was present.

 

What they saw in the temple was noticeably scarier than Voros’s lack of lunch - it was a demon, apparently trapped in some kind of summoning circle. Saffron stared at it in unconcealed awe, though she couldn’t help but pout a little when Caiden inches in front of her, blocking her view ever-so-slightly. “H-heyyyy…!” She protested quietly, slipping around him with inhuman grace.

 

Agethar was - of course - automatically suspicious of the old blind guy, who seemed to have been talking to the monster, but Perky herself wasn’t so quick to jump to conclusions. Besides, the demon didn’t exactly seem unfriendly. Right now, anyway.

 

"May I ask to what purpose mortals such as yourselves would enter a place such as this?” The demon was asking, mostly that weird blind guy. “You spoke of those with you who fancy themselves demon slayers. I must warn you: if you came to slay demons, you should turn back. It is not myself of which I speak, but a far, far greater power. Unless you are here because of that binding upon your souls...?"

 

So polite! ...Wait, what? Bindi-

 

"I cannot tell you the nature of it, only that it is there. I sense a power hanging over each of you - the power of a binding contract. The only one present free from that binding," he pointed a long, black claw at Percula, "is her."

 

Caiden said nothing, but he did look at Percula and set his jaw.

 

It dawned on the pixie once she caught that look in his eye: she had been tiny and stowed away back in the tavern, when this all started. She remembered something Caiden had told her - that he hadn't wanted her to sign the contract... Agni's contract to return Dainsleif to him, one way or another. Now it was suddenly very clear why he’d done such a thing.

 

“...Wow, I didn’t think dwarves were weird like that.” Was the first thing that came to Percula’s mind, escaping her lips before she could even think about what she was saying. “Contract magic. Who would’ve thought?”

 

Perky shrugged to herself, wandering closer to the Huo - and the demon, as a result. “How do we banish this thing, anyway? Do I need to zap it or something?” She asked, more curious than anything, and not minding the humans in the room judging her magic. She’d cast spells in front of an Inquisitor before, after all. Venatori should be fine with it… and a weird old man who was tooootally not Gifted, too.

 



#485598 ZONE - The Forbidden Halls of Clan Dimmlundar

Posted by Burger Warrior on 15 September 2017 - 12:23 PM

Korvarl frowned at the mess that was the district hall, muttering something into his beard. “O’course. Shouldn’t’ve put it past demons t’wreck a place like this…”

 

Still, Malvolio began to search, and Silvershield figured there might be some stone left unturned by the invading malevolent forces. He wasn’t going to waste time giving up on potential leads, no sir. Walking past the Templar, he cleared his throat. “Tell me if there’s anythin’ tha’ looks important, aye? Gonna check th’cellar out…”

 

‘Cellar’ was one way to describe the stairway that led down toward what was inevitably going to be some kind of vault - or prison - but Korvarl didn’t bother explaining further as he passed through the large, open doorway and into the cavernous stairwell - one hand still holding his torch aloft and the other clutching his shield tighter with every step downward.

 

------

 

Caiden gave a brief sniff of the air as he glanced around another time. Then he added, "Mostly demons."

 

Perky screwed up her face in an adorable - well, to Voros, anyway - pout. “Caaaaaiiiid, lighten uuuup…!”

 

The building Percula picked out at random turned out to be a tavern, and as she threw the door open and they all peered inside, taking in the view. Not that it was a very cheerful one, and for the first time since she’d laid eyes on the grandeur of the Forbidden Halls Saffron felt the weight of dread and loss. “...Oh.”

 

Still, she led the way inside, and as they entered they heard nothing... but Percula felt the tendons in Caiden's wrist shift as he curled that hand into a fist. That was enough for her to know something was off.

 

A sound split the utter silence so abruptly it made all of them start. Something thudded against the boarded-up door to the right side of the counter, most likely leading downward into a cellar. It thudded hard. But, apparently, it couldn't get through... and perhaps it had been thudding against that door for an untold number of years.

 

"If I didnae know it would make thing's worse," the Northern Venator muttered as he drew both his axes. "I'd put a bolt through th' door an' twixt th' thing's eyes."

 

"...if it has any."

 

Percula bit her lip, glancing at her lover. “Eheh, uh… I think I’ll give that door a pass… unless you can feel something?” She asked, her curiosity threatening to get the better of her. It was evident in the way she rather quickly added that last question. Please tell me it’s safe so I can open it I gottaaaaa!

 



#485567 ZONE - The Forbidden Halls of Clan Dimmlundar

Posted by Burger Warrior on 14 September 2017 - 12:47 AM

Korvarl had largely stayed silent for his own reasons as the group made their way to the Forbidden Halls, musing over their quest, his poor choice in companions… and the one exception to that, the beautiful Elnira. He often had trouble not staring at her, and with every passing night it seemed his love - and jealousy, when any of the other men in the party so much as glanced at her - only grew.

 

It was, for Elnira, probably a little creepy by the time they headed down below.

 

In any case, Silvershield stayed as close to her as he dared - which was pretty much as close as she made it clear his limits were - holding his own lit torch aloft as the party headed down into Clan Dimmlundar’s ancient home. Of course, with the glowing crystals he realized that was a waste of a torch, but by then it was far too late. The regret that came with that realization only made the weight of pure evil settle heavier on Korvarl’s soul; even the sight of Elnira being herself could not alleviate the darkness of this place.

 

For the first time on this journey, Silvershield truly regretted his decision to join.

 

"We should get in and get out as soon as possible," the Templar, Malvolio, said as he raised the lit torch that he had found. "I prefer not to have my head stuck on some demon's spear."

 

He turned back toward the group. "We should head towards the District Hall: maybe we'll find some records about where Dainsleif is...was held."

 

Korvarl brushed past him, leaving Elnira’s side for the first time since they’d taken leave of Arrowfall. “Well dun’t jus’ talk about goin’ there, get movin’!” He growled, having no patience for the human just standing about. Silvershield briefly considered putting out his torch so he was less of a target for whatever monsters still lurked in the shadows, but they’d probably heard him coming anyway. May as well be able to see them, too.

 

In any case, Korvarl Silvershield made surprisingly good progress towards the District Hall despite his short legs and heavy armor. It seemed this was the fastest he’d moved since any of the others had laid eyes on the dwarf.

 

-----

 

Percula had remained openly with the group since she met them - well, a few of them, anyway - at Arrowfall, keeping close to Caiden as they headed into the Jagged Edge. She didn’t vanish again, but like Korvarl with Elnira, the pixie in disguise pretty much always stayed at Caid’s side during their travel into the Forbidden Halls.

 

Naturally, once they were inside, her curiosity overwhelmed her urge to stay by Caiden as well as the gloom that seemed to weigh so heavily on everyone else. It was a small miracle that Percula managed not to glow or take off flying through the strangely empty halls. Granted, she did just about everything short of that.

 

“WHOOOAAAA!” She echoed Agethar’s apparent amazement a lot more verbally. A lot lot more verbally. “This place is so cool!” Percula went on at only a slightly lower volume, glancing back at Caiden only long enough to catch his wrist, which was quite a feat, considering the diameter of said muscle-bound wrist. “C’mon, c’mooon! There’s gotta be all sorts of stuff in here!” Saffron urged him, not unlike a child in a shop stocked with a multitude of sweets.




#485519 Morwyn Marks

Posted by Burger Warrior on 12 September 2017 - 12:16 PM

Only changes between here and Special Permissions is the reduction in number of arcane tomes on Morwyn's person.

 

-----

 

0e24a706040c2c53c8b600d5453055db--female

(Source is kinda in the picture, itself, there :v )

 

Morwyn Marks

 

 

Full Name: Morwyn Marks

Aliases: The Witch of Many Sizes

 

Sex: Female

Race: Human (Achaean)

Birthplace: Eloh, Achaean Empire

 

Affinity: Fire

Deity: Astra Aeterna

Magic: Arcane

Faction: None

 

Talents: Arcane Lore, Subtlety, Thievery, Herbalism, Tailoring

 

Attributes

Strength: 3

Agility: 6

Constitution: 3

Perception: 8

Intelligence: 8

Spirit: 10

Luck: 4

 

Appearance: A little on the short side for a young Achaean lady, Morwyn is nonetheless striking in appearance and posture. Clearly of a higher breed, it’s somewhat ironic her clothes tend to be rather travel-worn, what with her being on the run from her family and the Inquisition, as she was proven to be a mage. As her appearance changes little - she’s stubborn like that - besides in size, most Inquisitors in the Northwestern Kingdom could probably recognize her.

 

Inventory: Merchant Pack

-1 full set of nice clothing

-1 brown traveling cloak

-1 iron dagger

-1 map of the Northwestern Kingdom

-Ale and rations

-1 Satchel with an Arcane Tome (which she constantly needs to peruse to cast most of her spells)

-1 Satchel of Miscellaneous Herbs

-1 Lady's sewing kit

 

Biography:

Born and raised the youngest of the Mark family in the mining town of Eloh, Morwyn’s birth on the summer solstice caused more than a few rumors to spread and hang around her for a fairly long period of her life. As the young Marks grew, however, she decided to roll along with it, managing to get her hands on a few tomes of magic spells as a joke - assisted by a few less-than-good doers she got to know in her younger, (relatively, Eloh’s not exactly Illikon, y’know) wild days - and read them.

 

She grew surprisingly attached to the books, however, spending more and more time studying them. This sudden studiousness surprised her father, but it kept her distracted from trying to vy for his inheritance like her older siblings, so he let it slide. Thus, underneath the noses of her very family, Morwyn discovered and developed her innate Gift of magic.

 

Had she kept her own experiments in check, Morwyn could still be living amongst her family in the comfort of home, playing with magic endlessly. However, she robbed herself of her own pleasant life when she incautiously cast a growth spell. The space Morwyn had reserved for practice turned out to be… insufficient.

 

Thus, Eloh was quite briefly visited by one of the jotnar - granted, one who looked suspiciously like the Earl’s daughter - who took her sweet time toying with the helpless humans in fascination before realizing perhaps it was a good idea to leave. While such a large being has not been spotted since, Morwyn Marks had vanished with a number of rather thick arcane books and scrolls and remains missing - but sought for by the Marks family and Inquisition alike - throughout the northern Empire.

 

Campaign History:

N/A

 

Relationships:

Marks Family (Wanted Dead or Alive)

Eloh (Terrified)

Inquisition (Wanted Dead or Alive)

 

Personality:

While it’s been some time since her somewhat self-imposed exile, Morwyn retains her old noble mannerisms and a sense for distinguishing between peasants and those of higher bloodlines. As badly as she fears being taken by the Inquisition and losing the knowledge she went to great trouble to attain, she finds it very difficult to blend in as a nobody wherever she goes, leading the fugitive mage to keep her distance from others… until the need for proper bed and breakfast - even those shoddy shadows of her childhood accommodations provided by roadside inns - finally drives her back to civilization briefly.

 

Currency:

35 gold, 20 silver, 45 copper




#485518 Phebei

Posted by Burger Warrior on 12 September 2017 - 12:11 PM

Only change between here and the Special Permissions post is that she's not officially allowed to help, but a couple of individuals have decided it's worth turning a blind eye to her stealthy sojourns into the hospitals.

 

------

 

Phebei

 

Name: Phebei

Gender: Female

Race: Dryad (Epimeliad)

Birthplace: Imperial Heartland (not too far from Heathrow)

Affinity: Clay

Deity: Demeter

Magic: Spiritual

Faction: None

Talents: Herbalism, Charisma, Subtlety, Balanced Soul, Tailoring

 

Attributes

Strength: 3

Agility: 8

Constitution: 5

Perception: 6 - 1 = 5

Intelligence: 8

Spirit: 8 + 2 = 10

Luck: 4

 

Appearance: Phebei is a slim, short epimeliad who stands nearly five feet tall in her elven form. Her skin is pale, as if she hasn’t spent a day of her life in the sun. Her childlike face is neatly curtained by long, curly, light pink hair falling almost to her waist. The dryad’s wide eyes do little to change her childish appearance, wide - and also unnaturally pink - as they are. However, even while dressed in a simple, white, hand-woven robe of wool, Phebei is surprisingly more difficult to pick out of a crowd than some may give her credit for.

 

Inventory: (Farmer Pack)

-1 full set of simple clothing

-1 small knife

-2 clean bandages

-Ale and rations

-Cooking supplies

-Herbs

-Fresh bread

 

Biography:

Living in the heartland of the Empire is an… interesting experience for a dryad, to say the least. The almost consistent felling of trees to feed Achaean industry is an ever-present pain, one that Phebei has dealt with for as long as she can remember. Perhaps it is this that drove the dryad to begin her wanderings, communing with spirits near and far in search of a cure for the constant - if now very dull - phantom pain. From Justantion to Goldcrossing, the epimeliad searched for solace, briefly finding that discovering injured animals to help seemed to, if nothing else, divert her attention elsewhere and give her a fleeting sense of fulfillment.

 

But it never lasted long.

 

During her journeys, however, Phebei happened across Heathrow, and was immediately drawn by the sense of fading agony permeating the town. Curious and hopeful to have found some diversion, however brief, the dryad snuck into the makeshift hospital and found row upon row of wounded humans. Often under the cover of night, she consistently returned to try easing their pain or actively healing their wounds with what rudimentary knowledge of alchemy and herbs she collected on her journeys.

 

For weeks this continued and Phebei’s proficiency in stealth and herbalism improved as she did what she could to care for the soldiers… though she found the patrols thickening and many of the wounded under guard. It seemed her presence had not gone unnoticed, and so the dryad reluctantly retreated from the town; far enough to avoid detection, but not so much that she couldn’t still feel the spiritual turmoil of the wounded. It was a fortunately brief period of agony.

 

Which, ironically, ended when the plague came: and everything grew worse. Drawn back to the town in the hopes of doing something - anything - to help the sick and dying, Phebei openly revealed herself to offer help… which, naturally, did not end well as she retreated when it was clear she was not being openly accepted.

 

However, as days passed and the agony only grew worse, Phebei continued to return and try to help openly or otherwise when she was naturally refused - being arguably less humanoid than an elf - while the plague continued to spread. Eventually, her help was quite reluctantly accepted by a handful of open-minded individuals that made arrangements to help her in and out, and since then the dryad has found herself in the midst of what others would call a nightmare, but Phebei sees it as a chance to find some ultimate fulfillment: an end to the pain that has permeated her life.

 

Campaign History:

N/A

 

Personality: Shy is perhaps the greatest quality that makes up Phebei’s character and governs most of her actions. While she has a great urge to heal those who suffer, oftentimes it is not great enough to overwhelm her fear of dealing with others… especially the humans that regularly slaughter trees and animals alike for their various industries. Still, even when these creatures are hurt Phebei cannot help but feel pity for them, and she’s come to understand in her time amongst humans that not all of them are so dedicated to the slaughter of nature as others.

 

Currency:

2 gold, 50 copper




#485513 HELP - Special Permission

Posted by Burger Warrior on 11 September 2017 - 07:27 PM

You and the size thing, Burgs. :P

 

Hm... I know you worked this into her bio and all, but could you cut it down to just one tome? Arcane tomes are extremely rare (and ancient) and even harder to acquire, as not many even exist - plus, the Inquisition keeps a very tight hold on that sort of thing. Their libraries are essentially the only ones in the Empire allowed to have tomes of arcane magic, under heavy guard and constant watch. It's fine for her to acquire one (though she would have to keep it secret from everyone; they're certainly nothing to joke about), but multiple is going a bit far.

 

Other than that, it all sounds good! Although I'm curious as to how wounds would translate over for changing size, if she can also turn so huge... Anyway, starting currency is 35 gold, 20 silver, 45 copper.

 

Sounds good! Starting currency is 2 gold, 50 copper. Hey, she doesn't interact with human society directly, right? :P

 

You and your noms- wait crap that's my thing, too. Dammit.

 

Alright, I'll do a tad bit of fine-tuning between the two before I make their character posts. ^^

 

 

Sounds interesting!

 

 I'll edit her into the roster once you decide whether or not you want to have any other characters besides Cornelius. I may allow trios for this...

 

Considering she's just a revamped version of the original Phebei I signed up with, yes I do want to use her :P




#485498 Cornelius Trenico

Posted by Burger Warrior on 08 September 2017 - 12:01 PM

Cornelius Trenico, Knight Templar

 

Name: Cornelius Trenico

Gender: Male

Race: Achaean

Birthplace: Coronaria

Affinity: Fire

Deity: Astra Aeterna

Faction: Knights Templar

Talents: Education (Old Achaean and High Imperial), Divine Lore, Forbidden Lore, Noble Combat

 

Attributes

Strength: 9

Agility: 4

Constitution: 9

Perception: 4

Intelligence: 5

Spirit: 6

Luck: 5

 

Appearance: A tall, handsome young fellow, Cornelius stands a few inches short of six feet, his rather tanned face framed by long locks of ebony hair. His chiseled features and cleft chin are often graced by a smile so white it could blind a man - or, more particularly, a woman - at the right angle, and his muscles look like they belong to one of the gods. Or all of them. He’s ripped.

 

Inventory: (Templar Pack)

  • 1 full set of deepgold (with deepsilver trimming) plate and chain armor

  • 1 set of fine clothing

  • 1 holy symbol of Astra Aeterna

  • 1 deepsilver bastard sword

  • 1 holy torch

  • 1 red traveling cloak

  • 1 deepgold (with deepsilver trimming) shield

  • 1 deepsilver dagger

  • 2 vials of holy water

  • 1 book of prayers

  • Water and rations

 

Biography:

Born to an old - and quite noble - patrician family in Coronaria’s Silver Ring, Cornelius has known little more than comfort. Granted, his training regime to become a Templar - a life-long dream as his nanny always told him stories of their noble exploits (her own husband having worked in one of their citadels) - was a break from that, but even such hardship can hardly be compared to life as a peasant.

 

He moved to Starward Citadel as soon as he was able, his family sending him off with their blessings - and thankful he didn’t want to fight his siblings over who inherited what - and leaving Cornelius to do his own thing. The young Trenico threw himself into his studies to become a full-fledged Templar with raw zeal that was rarely found in such an individual, excelling in many studies. It was thanks to this that one of his tutors let him peruse some of the darker knowledge about demons and their ilk… though admittedly it was also the old man’s attempt to weather Cornelius’s excitement for killing the demonic.

 

Naturally, this knowledge only made him more irritatingly confident in his abilities to do so.

 

Thus - probably thanks to the tutor pulling some strings - Cornelius’s first assignment is intended to be extremely boring for him: he’s to accompany Malvolio Borgia to Heathrow to sort out some plague, of all things.

 

Campaign History:

N/A

 

Personality: Cornelius is young, naive, and literally fresh out of training. He’s seen little of the world beyond the Silver Ring of Coronaria and the walls of Starward Citadel, and thus has very high expectations for how journeys should be had, battles should be fought, demons should act, and so on and so forth. Well, less so in that last case, as he has spent considerable time studying demons and their ways… even the ways of their cultists and how to do such ugly things as summon such monsters. Not that Cornelius would ever dream to do such a thing; it is merely a matter of wishing to know one’s enemy to destroy them all the easier.

 

Currency:

45 gold, 30 silver, 10 gold



#485497 HELP - Special Permission

Posted by Burger Warrior on 08 September 2017 - 11:33 AM

Well, polished Phebei up a little for use in Sickness and in Health, mostly so she fits with the re-hauled Errant system.

 

-----

 

Name: Phebei

Gender: Female

Race: Dryad (Epimeliad)

Birthplace: Imperial Heartland (not too far from Heathrow)

Affinity: Clay

Deity: Demeter

Magic: Spiritual

Faction: None

Talents: Herbalism, Charisma, Subtlety, Balanced Soul, Tailoring

 

Attributes

Strength: 3

Agility: 8

Constitution: 5

Perception: 6 - 1 = 5

Intelligence: 8

Spirit: 8 + 2 = 10

Luck: 4

 

Appearance: Phebei is a slim, short epimeliad who stands nearly five feet tall in her elven form. Her skin is pale, as if she hasn’t spent a day of her life in the sun. Her childlike face is neatly curtained by long, curly, light pink hair falling almost to her waist. The dryad’s wide eyes do little to change her childish appearance, wide - and also unnaturally pink - as they are. However, even while dressed in a simple, white, hand-woven robe of wool, Phebei is surprisingly more difficult to pick out of a crowd than some may give her credit for.

 

Inventory: (Farmer Pack)

-1 full set of simple clothing

-1 small knife

-2 clean bandages

-Ale and rations

-Cooking supplies

-Herbs

-Fresh bread

 

Biography:

Living in the heartland of the Empire is an… interesting experience for a dryad, to say the least. The almost consistent felling of trees to feed Achaean industry is an ever-present pain, one that Phebei has dealt with for as long as she can remember. Perhaps it is this that drove the dryad to begin her wanderings, communing with spirits near and far in search of a cure for the constant - if now very dull - phantom pain. From Justantion to Goldcrossing, the epimeliad searched for solace, briefly finding that discovering injured animals to help seemed to, if nothing else, divert her attention elsewhere and give her a fleeting sense of fulfillment.

 

But it never lasted long.

 

During her journeys, however, Phebei happened across Heathrow, and was immediately drawn by the sense of fading agony permeating the town. Curious and hopeful to have found some diversion, however brief, the dryad snuck into the makeshift hospital and found row upon row of wounded humans. Often under the cover of night, she consistently returned to try easing their pain or actively healing their wounds with what rudimentary knowledge of alchemy and herbs she collected on her journeys.

 

For weeks this continued and Phebei’s proficiency in stealth and herbalism improved as she did what she could to care for the soldiers… though she found the patrols thickening and many of the wounded under guard. It seemed her presence had not gone unnoticed, and so the dryad reluctantly retreated from the town; far enough to avoid detection, but not so much that she couldn’t still feel the spiritual turmoil of the wounded. It was a fortunately brief period of agony.

 

Which, ironically, ended when the plague came: and everything grew worse. Drawn back to the town in the hopes of doing something - anything - to help the sick and dying, Phebei openly revealed herself to offer help… which, naturally, did not end well as she retreated when it was clear she was not being openly accepted.

 

However, as days passed and the agony only grew worse, Phebei continued to return and try to help openly or otherwise when she was naturally refused - being arguably less humanoid than an elf - while the plague continued to spread. Eventually, her help was openly - if quite reluctantly - accepted, and since then the dryad has found herself in the midst of what others would call a nightmare, but Phebei sees it as a chance to find some ultimate fulfillment: an end to the pain that has permeated her life.

 

Campaign History:

N/A

 

Personality: Shy is perhaps the greatest quality that makes up Phebei’s character and governs most of her actions. While she has a great urge to heal those who suffer, oftentimes it is not great enough to overwhelm her fear of dealing with others… especially the humans that regularly slaughter trees and animals alike for their various industries. Still, even when these creatures are hurt Phebei cannot help but feel pity for them, and she’s come to understand in her time amongst humans that not all of them are so dedicated to the slaughter of nature as others.

Currency:




#485351 Werewolf's Art

Posted by Burger Warrior on 18 August 2017 - 01:53 PM

>glances at the Patreon pic

 

>stares helplessly at his face

 

ACaLLIQ.gif

 

 

 

...That aside the picture's actually pretty well all around, even though it pales somewhat by comparison to the second drawing (that being fully colored and all). The little details on Kain Talon's armor are really cool, though, in particular. There's a crazy amount of neat designs packed in there between the cloth, chain mail links (albeit a few patches of those seem to be missing ^^; ), and even the plate armor. :D

Though even that can't quite push me to look over the face entirely (though that's mostly in his eye [and nose :P ] position, the lower face looks pretty solid), as well as the slightly awkward bend in his right wrist. It doesn't seem like it breaks anatomy or physics, but it does look like an uncomfortable position to keep one's hand in.

 

But even with those faults the overall drawing turned out really well! His armor looks like some pretty serious, layered stuff, fancy details aside, and you conveyed that really well. Also the shading, particularly around his hood, looks stellar. It'd be awesome to see a full color version of this with a bit of nose general polish. ^^

 

Can't wait to see what's up next! :D




#485307 Delving Too Deep OOC - Rules, Character List, and Chat

Posted by Burger Warrior on 07 August 2017 - 02:26 PM

I'm definitely up for continuing, buuut I also know you could really use a proper break. Maybe it's time someone else took the mantle of DMing a big Errant thing.

 

...Which I have plans of doing, myself, on that note, but God alone knows if that'll come to fruition, so don't hold your breath. ^^;




#485220 HELP - Special Permission

Posted by Burger Warrior on 13 July 2017 - 02:16 AM

Aaaand here we've got yet another mage (albeit of the more arcane variety) :U

 

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0e24a706040c2c53c8b600d5453055db--female

(Source is kinda in the picture, itself, there :v )

 

Morwyn Marks

 

 

Full Name: Morwyn Marks

Aliases: The Witch of Many Sizes

 

Sex: Female

Race: Human (Achaean)

Birthplace: Eloh, Achaean Empire

 

Affinity: Fire

Deity: Astra Aeterna

Magic: Arcane

Faction: None

 

Talents: Arcane Lore, Subtlety, Thievery, Herbalism, Tailoring

 

Attributes

Strength: 3

Agility: 6

Constitution: 3

Perception: 8

Intelligence: 8

Spirit: 10

Luck: 4

 

Appearance: A little on the short side for a young Achaean lady, Morwyn is nonetheless striking in appearance and posture. Clearly of a higher breed, it’s somewhat ironic her clothes tend to be rather travel-worn, what with her being on the run from her family and the Inquisition, as she was proven to be a mage. As her appearance changes little - she’s stubborn like that - besides in size, most Inquisitors in the Northwestern Kingdom could probably recognize her.

 

Inventory: Merchant Pack

-1 full set of nice clothing

-1 brown traveling cloak

-1 iron dagger

-1 map of the Northwestern Kingdom

-Ale and rations

-1 Satchel of Arcane Tomes

-1 Satchel of Miscellaneous Herbs

-1 Lady's sewing kit

 

Biography:

Born and raised the youngest of the Mark family in the mining town of Eloh, Morwyn’s birth on the summer solstice caused more than a few rumors to spread and hang around her for a fairly long period of her life. As the young Marks grew, however, she decided to roll along with it, managing to get her hands on a few tomes of magic spells as a joke - assisted by a few less-than-good doers she got to know in her younger, (relatively, Eloh’s not exactly Illikon, y’know) wild days - and read them.

 

She grew surprisingly attached to the books, however, spending more and more time studying them. This sudden studiousness surprised her father, but it kept her distracted from trying to vy for his inheritance like her older siblings, so he let it slide. Thus, underneath the noses of her very family, Morwyn discovered and developed her innate Gift of magic.

 

Had she kept her own experiments in check, Morwyn could still be living amongst her family in the comfort of home, playing with magic endlessly. However, she robbed herself of her own pleasant life when she incautiously cast a growth spell. The space Morwyn had reserved for practice turned out to be… insufficient.

 

Thus, Eloh was quite briefly visited by one of the jotnar - granted, one who looked suspiciously like the Earl’s daughter - who took her sweet time toying with the helpless humans in fascination before realizing perhaps it was a good idea to leave. While such a large being has not been spotted since, Morwyn Marks had vanished with a number of rather thick arcane books and scrolls and remains missing - but sought for by the Marks family and Inquisition alike - throughout the northern Empire.

 

Campaign History:

N/A

 

Relationships:

Marks Family (Wanted Dead or Alive)

Eloh (Terrified)

Inquisition (Wanted Dead or Alive)

 

Personality:

While it’s been some time since her somewhat self-imposed exile, Morwyn retains her old noble mannerisms and a sense for distinguishing between peasants and those of higher bloodlines. As badly as she fears being taken by the Inquisition and losing the knowledge she went to great trouble to attain, she finds it very difficult to blend in as a nobody wherever she goes, leading the fugitive mage to keep her distance from others… until the need for proper bed and breakfast - even those shoddy shadows of her childhood accommodations provided by roadside inns - finally drives her back to civilization briefly.

 

Currency:

 




#485201 ZONE: The Rusty Axe

Posted by Burger Warrior on 10 July 2017 - 01:23 PM

"Which is a rather long-winded way of saying: 'just passing through'" Holli ‘clarified’ for Lydus without blinking an eye—or ceasing her damned rocking on the stool. "What about you? Been busy lately?"

 

Sticky-Fingers murmured incoherently under his breath… admittedly, mostly to zone out the damned rocking of that stupid stool and Tom’s quips. Couldn’t have found a half-decent establishment with evenly-made stools, ohhhh no…

 

Her emphasis on their partnership being temporary was not taken sourly by Lydus. Sure, the elf was a pretty thing - those cheeky pointy-ears all had good genes, it seemed - but that didn’t make her the best of company.

 

Drake mentioned something about coming from Kemhet, which perked Holli’s interest even as the elf got a drink unasked for. Lydus smirked as they spoke, quietly reaching for the mug… only to scowl as she took a sip of it. She didn’t drink! At least, not as much as Sticky-Fingers did. Hell, she didn’t ask for one-

 

"I'd like a meat-pie, too!" she called out after the raven-haired tavern wench.

 

Lydus scowled, looking around for a menu. “By the gods, you two are going to clean this place’s supply of meat out for weeks.” He pointed out. “There’s gotta be somethin’ else to eat here, right, wench?" He demanded of Yel.

 

Somethin’ cheaper, anyway...




#485174 ZONE - Rimegard

Posted by Burger Warrior on 06 July 2017 - 07:32 PM

"I suppose we do have some time while we wait for the others." She closed her notebook with a snap. "Let's go!"

 

Korvarl brightened as she agreed without argument, and he let her take the lead by a few paces before hustling after her. He was about to fist-pump in victory - yes, he was just that proud of his performance - when he noticed the heavy tread of one of the larger, bearded, northern humans. By instinct at this point, the dwarf warrior tensed.

 

"If ye don't mind," the Venator said "I would be happy tae join ye; me belly hungers fer food this early in th' mornin'."

 

Silvershield sighed, relaxing again. “‘Course I don’t mind, nordlin’. I invit’d every’ne, didn’t I?” He asked rhetorically, saving his gestures of victory for later as he followed close by Elnira.

 



#485164 ZONE - Rimegard

Posted by Burger Warrior on 06 July 2017 - 01:35 PM

Korvarl had had trouble living down the faint embarrassment of not catching that little scrawny thing ‘Mister Whiskers’ before Elnira did. Granted, he was the only one who seemed to notice that was the case, or that it was an embarrassing happenstance at all.

 

Whatever. I know it’s deservin’ of great shame!

 

Fortunately, nothing much else happened on the way to Rimegard. While the trip passed fairly quickly for him - the advantages of long lifespans, and all - the others seemed to be champing at the bit, which resolved itself into some very great impatience to get out of the city by the time they got into it. The dwarf sighed as several members of their party voice their loud opinions about such things, silencing a few others who seemed on the verge of disagreeing.

 

Korvarl, for one, wanted a beer before they went on.

 

"We have nothing to gain by staying in the city." One big, scarred-looking fellow decided. Silvershield wondered if he was insane.

 

Clearly yer all insane.” The dwarf piped up, crossing his arms as he stood before the naysayers wanting to move on. “I, fer one, am gonna have a drink. And seein’ as I have th’ map, if any o’ ye want to know were yer goin’, I suggest y’join me.” He grinned smugly, before turning on his heel and trundling into town in the hopes of finding a pub or tavern or something in-between.

 

As they - or he, anyway - wandered along, though, he realized Elnira was speaking. All at once, she had his full atten-

 

"You see, Mr Whiskers..."

 

...tion.

 

She was talking to her cat. Her decidedly uninterested cat, for that matter. "Rimegard has a fascinating blend of Achaean and Northrim culture. I read about its history but nothing beats some field research!"

 

“Uh…” Korvarl glanced around, noting the stares Elnira was receiving… but fortunately she, herself, fell silent, pulling out a notebook to start sketching. He blinked, subtly approaching the little dwarven woman to see what it was she was drawing.

 

He sighed, a tad exasperated, as it turned out to just be a building.

 

“Why dontcha jus’ come along an’ have a drink with me, lass?” He asked, leading the way again. “Th’ buildings’ll be here when next y’visit.” If we g’t through this, anyway...




#485159 ZONE: The Rusty Axe

Posted by Burger Warrior on 06 July 2017 - 11:42 AM

"I muck my boots pretty often," Drake said, taking a healthy swig of his ale. "If the mud deserves it."

 

Lydus pointedly ignored that remark as Yel finally addressed his needs… though when he was pretty sure Tom wasn’t looking, the knight received an ugly little glare. Sticky-Fingers wasn’t quite drunk enough to do it to Drake’s face, but sooner than later...

 

On that note, he asked for the menu, only to get another snide response from the nob.

 

"There's some water in the horse trough outside," Drake interjected casually. "I hear that's free."

 

“Give your tongue a break an’ have some of that, why don’t you?” Lydus snapped, his temper shortening. “Save your gold for a gladiator school or somethin’.” The Venator grumbled, turning his attention back to Yel as she spook up.

 

"We have a local ale, two coppers."  She smiled in what seemed like a customary way. But hey, it was rare for anyone to manage a smile in Lydus’s direction (especially high-an’-mighty nobs) so he took what he could get.

 

The Venator considered the price for a moment - well, he was actually considering how wise it would be to nick Tom’s purse - before shrugging and fishing a couple coppers out of his pocket, murmuring quietly to himself. “Ech, works for me.” He hugged, slapping the coins on the counter.

 

Wonder how bad ale this cheap is gonna be…?