IAmAugustReign

Draw near to your destruction [IAmAugustReigns/Oathmaker]

If you wish to swap scenes from tavern and start off on their journey that's totally cool with me

Draw near to your destruction [IAmAugustReigns/Oathmaker]

She could understand that. Working with others that share similar goals was typically the most efficient way to achieve them, if one didn't try and tear the others apart near the end for greater glory. Trinkets and magical items from the mind-flayers could be useful, if not foreign and collectible. Would probably fetch some pretty coin if sold to the right buyer too... but there was the real reason - protection, self preservation, throwing someone else to the masses so his pretty pretty robes wouldn't get splashes of blood or gore staining them. Just like the Thayan.

Her drilling stare softened, morphing into more of a hungry intrigue. Dark forces like those religious zealots or defilers of the dead weren't so much of a concern for her, but that taste of knowledge, of secrets left behind by the tentacle heads or others, drenched in the warm liquid which gave them life - That was what enticed her. If she learned anything from her emergence, it was that this world held many secrets, and no amount of bodies would stand in her way to acquire them. Having a useful tool like this one would be worth the trouble of his predicted complaints, no?

The drow turned, scraping some fingers along the table surface as she returned to that opposite side, back to that bottle left there. She paused, as if thinking, then deliberately took the bottle at the base into her hand, turning halfway to regard Cailyn over her shoulder.

"You've a deal, wizard." She officially accepted his offering, putting bottle to lip, and taking a long swig. "However," She continued, placing that container down and turning further, a 3/4ths facing towards him now. "If for an instant I am unamused, you're on your own. I will leave you to the dark, to the slime, and to the so called mercy of the denizens below." That dreaming smirk confirmed her fantasies, hinting at the images flashing in her mind about his numerous possible demises. With that look, it was obvious she may even stay to watch the spectacle before going about her own way.

"When to leave?"

Draw near to your destruction [IAmAugustReigns/Oathmaker]

Those red eyes traced the motion of his hand, but she didn't move to sit as he had indicated. She'd be patient for now, but if he babbled on about nonsense, she'd need a quick way to walk, especially with his aura of magic floating about his person. She didn't have access to magic herself, at least not like he seemed to have, but she could feel that ability from here. If she rejected him and he sought her out, it'd be an interesting showdown, of which she expected to win with the right preparation.

"...A fair exchange," He was saying, diving into an introduction. Ugh, boring. She had to fight the urge to roll her eyes at his sappy story, though the shift in the air at his finger caught her eye for a moment. Which type of magic did this one specialize in? She forgot the names of the schools, but could remember back to her travels in this region before, and a flash of a memory came to her: The waving arms in the air, the words of power chanting freely, and then a tear in the fabric of reality, claws pushing their way through into their plane of existence. Was this wizard also a conjurer?

A slight sneer curled at her lip. Mind-flayers. She remembered the stories when she was but a child, a dangerous race to deal with but also a useful one if one was clever enough. All she had seen was a squishy and bulbous head, those tentacle appendages that reached for one's face with voracious hunger, and magic beyond most people's understanding. The drow had faced few Illithid during her time, but those she did encounter were not of a fond memory. These cultists that dared worship them were in over their heads; The octopus heads deserved to perish, not have their egos stroked further.

Cailyn summoned from his pack a message, an offering to show her what he spoke generally of. Five thousand for a cult removal? It wasn't bad, though she didn't really need that amount. Gold was always useful though, so she wouldn't say no to something that paid well. With the focus of Illithid lackeys, there was that higher potential for magical treasure or artifacts, which was also a fair bargaining chip for the woman. That sneer disappeared by then, and that precarious grip on the bottle lip loosened. The drow let go of that bottle, stepping up and around the table a little closer towards Cailyn. When she was able, she snatched up the missive, quick like, and scanned it over as he did her.

Indeed, the Duke called for adventurers and others to help reclaim the city from these cultists, and stated that reward of five thousand clearly. She swapped her gaze from the parchment to Cailyn once again though, the wizard finalizing his offer with his own personal goal. A magical trinket did sound entertaining, and with the danger presumed surrounding it, the woman was quite intrigued.

Yet...

Those bloody orbs narrowed at the mention of the word 'friend', but she didn't make a move towards him this time. It'd be a shame to be kicked out of the tavern after arriving so recently, and she doubted they'd enjoy the new bloodstains on the floor. Instead, she flung the memo into the air, a toss back to him and the table on her right side, as if it were merely an unwanted drawing from a child.

"And how many other 'friends' have you recruited for this errand?" Her eyes were piercing, boring holes if they could into Cailyn's own. It wasn't that she was against working with others, but being strung along by someone else's incompetence or hurried away from the potential hidden loot was something that irked her heavily. Besides, more people meant less share of the rewards. Why should she risk herself for a lesser amount of gold if there were more people? She could just go and do it herself at that point, even take the trinket he sought for her own. She had the skills to hide herself, she had the poisonous blades, healing items, and if things got too heavy, the concealment grenades and natural ability to summon darkness would help as well.

Draw near to your destruction [IAmAugustReigns/Oathmaker]

The shuffling of feet came to her, and a bar wench shimmied up as close as she dared to the hooded drow. "From a patron," She informed, gesturing off to a corner where a man waggled his hand their direction. Red irises glanced the wench's way, but she was already scurrying off to the next customer. They then eyed the man, just within the borders of her direct eyesight, and then the offering. She felt like rolling her eyes, disregarding the suitor and retiring to a room then and there, but a second glance at him gave her pause.

She hadn't hidden her entry into the tavern, nor into the great city, yet she still kept her hood over her multi-layered hair, that point always visible hovering at her forehead. Unless someone was directly interacting with her from the front, it'd be more difficult to determine her skin or see that flash of red. What was it that tipped this man off about her, that brought his attention focused on her? It was probably just as simple as a feminine form and allure, but that expression he showed, the way he waved, it wasn't some fantasy that drove him. It was... something else.

He was testing her.

Probes for information were no stranger to the woman, and neither was courtship or romance. They each had their own ticks, their own universal giveaways. She didn't sense any of the lustful ones off the man, at least, nothing that was blatantly the reason for his watchful eye over her. So this was instead a test of purpose, a call to why she in particular was here, and she doubted he'd accept something as simple as her actual reason for being here. It was pretty mundane after all, even to her own standards. There was something else about him though, something that felt familiar. Perhaps it'd become apparent if she took this offering and got a little closer.

What did she have to lose?

With a slight sideways tip of her head giving her a better angle from under her hood, she sized up the man afar a moment longer. He wore no heavy plate or armor that indicated strength as his main asset, which led her to believe he was either a sly rogue or a mage. Both could be dangerous, but then again, so was she. The corner of her lip turned upwards as she recalled her last proposition from a lone and unaffiliated patron. Perhaps this was exactly what she needed during her break away from the constant political warfare and monster attacks up north. Besides, if he decided to try to get under her skin, she'd just live up to her title once again.

The drow pulled away from the bar and swiped the offering with delicate fingers clawing its lip. Those long blades at her hips barely shifted as she came to his table, that skirt of hers in sync with each step she took. Her approach gave pause to another customer of the tavern, forcing him to almost stand at attention as she crossed his intended path. She could feel his tipsy stare as she finally broke her summoner's perimeter and set down that offered drink at the table's edge.

She could feel an aura of power off this one, leading her to believe he was more magical than sneak. It reminded her of an old party member, back long ago, with a penchant for the ladies and power in the magical arts. He was fun, and if this new mage was anything like the old red wizard, she'd certainly find her time spent with him worthwhile. Closer now, she still eyed him, with that long, salt and peppered dark hair and experienced eyes. That scar already told a story that happened long ago, and the slightest of wrinkles under his eyes told his general age. Another human mage, summoning her for some purpose yet revealed. It all felt too familiar.

The woman kept her fingers on the neck of her bottle, hovering at the table's edge opposite of the man. There were plenty of empty chairs nearby she could have sat in, but she chose to stand instead, giving her the appearance of being intrigued, but not bought just yet. She finally spoke, after eyeing the man for several moments, a voice quiet, sultry, teasing, and somehow airy like a snake's hiss. It fit with her overall dark appearance and aura of danger, like a whisper to bed that would instead lead to one's death. "You called?" She asked, speaking in that Common tongue so many here communicated in.

Your first memorable original character?

I've still got mine around, but she's changed so much since the original days.

My first charrie I remember well was a Bleach arrancar (if I remember the term correctly) who was an underling of Szyal Apporo (sp? The pink haired crazy scientist dude) who broke away and freed herself from his service and wandered the wastelands of Hueco Mundo as both her humanoid form and as a velociraptor. I used to bring her around in the old forum chatboxes and because I was young and silly then, she'd magically have a chainsaw and chase other characters around whenever I'd feel hyper.

I'm still young and silly, just not in that way anymore.

She evolved over the years into something different - the second twin spawned from an angel/demon pairing, a scientist and strategist that tries to keep her twin out of trouble or clean up the messes. She's married to a special forces detective and part of a division that hunts down mutants. She has her own ability of seeing the memories tied with objects, and uses it to see through the eyes of criminals and to help predict their next move.

I use the twins as characters in Dragons Dogma. Oddly, they fit really well. The Arisen going off and getting into stupid situations and has to be saved by their Pawn is basically the same relationship the ladies have anyway.

Draw near to your destruction [IAmAugustReigns/Oathmaker]

The afternoon sun hung high in the sky, beating down heat to the great walled city of Baldur's Gate. While citizens and enforcers doted about their daily tasks, both the mundane and recovery from the attacks of the most recent assailants, a new figure entered the gates and started to wander. It was a fairly tall creature, a little over average height, lithe and strong, and it carried a traveling backpack with camping supplies strapped to it. It was armored lightly, though colored as if it came from the shadows themselves, a black hue that hurt to look at with accents of violet and sanguine. Those openly saddled blades at the form's hips swayed as it walked, catching the sun with their similarly dark metal. There was an aura about this one, one that did not cause fear, but did warn of danger if crossed the wrong way. That hood was pulled down low to help hide the being's face, but even with that protection, that dark skin peeked out from underneath. Not that Baldur's Gate was unaccustomed to this one's suspected race by now, but ingrained prejudices and fear could easily turn a simple traveller into the focus of a massacre. Not that this one would mind. It'd make her life easier to not have as many annoyances to deal with.

The woman traipsed through the streets, not at all bothered by the winding roads and sprawl of the buildings. She had been here long ago after all, working as a mercenary for the Flaming Fists. Her road had taken her up north though, towards Neverwinter, where she had found plenty of more interesting work, including fighting against the demons of Avernus that so recently occurred. Up there though, she worked for a stronghold and family name, oblivious to the other events happening in other areas of Faerún. How far she had come since emerging from the dark hold of her birthplace! There was much to explore up here, wealth to be gained, power to obtain, and skills to perfect. After dealing with the fires of Avernus, she found her eyes had stung less in the typical daytime glare, so she didn't stumble on her way to one of the old taverns she had visited: The Blushing Mermaid.

Looking at the building now, the woman furrowed her brow slightly at the expansion. A lot had changed since she had last been here. She'd have to do more than just ask for rumors with a drinking mug now. With a huff of a nasal sigh, she entered the renovated tavern, and took in her surroundings.

She entered into a large room, a dividing wall ahead of her with a fireplace embedded in the center. To her left, on the opposite side of that wall, was the bar itself, though it appeared the tavern continued on behind it beyond another dividing wall. Large tables occupied the space ahead in this room, sitting six or more depending on how many seats were brought to bear, several already taken by some groups. Some adventuring types it seemed to her, but they were of no interest beyond that. The cowled drow moved towards the bar, her long, loincloth-like skirt swishing with each step. She passed a round table on her way, and spied another at the far end with what looked like another exit door, though clearly not as grand as the main door she just entered. She marked those spots mentally, just in case.

The woman leaned onto the bar at an open space, taking out a few gold for a drink as a start. She had plenty of money, though only carried a small pinch of it openly. It was incredibly rare for someone to be able to steal from her, but letting down one's guard was a stupid move. If, and that was a big if, someone were able to pilfer her gold pouch away, they'd barely touch her real vault. The woman placed the gold on the counter and pushed it in front of her, offering it for whatever she could get with that amount. A silent exchange, and one the bartender caught onto quickly after greeting the new woman and hearing no reply. Only those red eyes stared back at him, a friendly and inviting gaze with some dark fires behind them. These eyes have experience, and a certain kind of hunger, of lust, but not for paltry pleasures of the flesh. It was something more... threatening, a promise made under the guise of pleasantries. The bartender moved, offering a simple bottle of ale in exchange for her coins. She gave the bartender a nod, and unhooked her face mask from inside her hood, revealing that full face of one of the many accomplished adventurers of Neverwinter.

She was pretty, but not beautiful, with a rounded nose tip, chin, and narrow jaw. Her skin was light, even for a drow, but still obvious enough to claim her race as such. She had somewhat heavy eye makeup, black eyeliner and eyeshadow, only heightened by the tattoos sweeping across her high cheekbones under and to the sides of her eyes. There was also a scar across her nose bridge trailing towards and across her left cheek like a glancing blow from a jagged blade or claw. A little tuft of silvery hair had been loosed by her mask removal, curling around her neck like it was nabbed by her glove. The woman took a swig of her ale, playing the part of a traveling adventurer seeking a small amount of respite, but she was more focused on listening to other patrons and getting a feel for the status of the city. They went through a significant struggle, but those details were unknown to her still.

Draw near to your destruction [IAmAugustReigns/Oathmaker]

The Drow

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Draw near to your destruction [IAmAugustReigns/Oathmaker]

Got it!

AR's Universal Check - General Ideas, Plots, and Dream Worlds (18+)

Another couple of dreams added, though not as detailed as the others. Been having too many irl related dreams lately sadly, and the few I remember that were not irl related aren't really enough detail to give a full picture on.

AR's Character Arsenal

Ayil - One of two, a hybrid of an angel and demon. Seeks out fun, adventure, power, and eventually got entangled in love. Married, has one daughter. Explorer, hunter, flirt, thrillseeker. Had trouble with her inner self and needed help to settle her soul and personal problems. The type to give a compliment then fight the person she just complimented. Ageless but not immortal.

Amitiel - Two of two, a hybrid of an angel and demon. Chases after her sister and tries to keep her out of trouble. Loves science and criminology. Typically has some kind of new experimental drug that may or may not cause mutations in other organic beings, or maybe the next zombie apocalypse, one never knows. Married, thinking about adoption. Scientist, agent, analyst, curious. Helped her twin through her problem phases then focused on her husband's detective work. The type of person to FAFO whatever she can, even if it threatens herself, others, or the general populace. Ageless but not immortal.

Riven Pan - Mutant thief from a steampunk and magically infused world. He was altered when his parents dabbled with Elder God tomes and accidentally ripped open a dimensional portal. Killed both of them but he was infused with that magic. Not only can he walk through walls and other surfaces, but he can also hop between dimensions. Has a spirit-like companion bound to him. He's a kid, but also an adult with heavy shoulders, carrying the weight of murdering someone when he didn't want to. He drowns his nightmares in exploring new dimensions and high energy chases. He's the type to steal your most precious item then dangle it in front of you before taunting and falling into the floor.

Genevieve Coorhagen - A woman who was turned vampire by an old nobleman, she has embraced her new life and became the center of every party after her rebirth. Speaks multiple languages, loves the glitz, glamor, and fame, and uses her suitors as feedbags. She's trained in some martial weapons, favoring the glaive, but much prefers to use her honed talents to lure her prey and suxk them dry of all assets before discarding them like the trash they are. When she gets bored, she seeks interesting people to entertain her, sometimes even burning down her empire to start anew somewhere else. She's the type to waltz into a ballroom, throw her hands up, and announce her magnificent presence herself, then bask in the stares of everyone around her.

Yisbren Valaritaw - An apprentice mage who specializes in elemental magics. She wishes to journey and practice her casting, befriending most that come her way, including a dragon or two. Usually travels with her mentor, but she has to spread her wings sometime. She's fascinated by history, and would love to learn about the Old Ways alongside the New, especially when it comes to magic. She's the type to appear cool and collected, a court mage in training, but really, she just wants to experience the world and learn from it.

Jherek Connors - Bassist in a small time band who had his life turned upside down when a superhero who lived above him climbed into the wrong window after a night of defending the city. They grew to love one another, but then tragedy struck. Jherek gained superpowers, but he also lost his partner. Confused and broken, he left that city, and has been wandering since, running from that pain however he could. He's a little better now, but he dares not show off his abilities. If he's found out, next town it is. He always carries his favorite bass though, even if he can't bring himself to play. He's the type to make pancakes with soda pop instead of water or milk and top it off with ice cream.

Natalie Malak - A ship captain with stealth tech, Nat prides herself on a good ship, good crew, and a good reputation. She'll take most jobs that won't harm the lesser off people, but that doesn't mean she's a law abiding citizen either. Her ship is known to be one of the best smuggling ships out there, and she can handle herself pretty well in a fight. She's romantically involved with one of her alien crewmates, but that won't stop her from her promise to get the job done. She's the type to outwardly scold disobedience but cheer for it on the inside.

Charlotte - A brilliant lass who specializes in underground augment and cybernetics work to help the little people who can't afford the newest upgrades. A neutral party to the political shenanigans of the world, she serves both the pinkies up nobility and the dangerous gangsters of the underworld. She lives in a junkyard, sorting through the various pieces for compatible parts and living a fairly lonely but appreciated life. Charlotte is the type of gal who goes over the top with her outward appearance to hide her inner insecurities.

Levyn - He's not quite sure how he has the life that he does, but Levyn lives fairly comfortably. Large house, nice cars, good looks, physical prowess, the works. The only thing he could complain about are these blackouts he has. One moment he's inside a local coffee shop, the next he's in a park across town seven hours later. Dixtors find nothing, and no medicine has helped him, so he just shrugs it off as some weird thing he has to live with. He hasn't yet found that secret cubby though, the one holding the protective gear, masks, and that blood stained knife that so itches to find a new canvas to carve into. Levyn is the type of guy to turn on cruise control whatever chance he can get.

Ceceila Rose Davenport-Rehwind - She's full of herself, knows she's good, and has creatures at her disposal; No one messes with this witch. A woman who seeks out the secrets of the natural world, Ceceila practices various forms of witchcraft, even able to summon beings from beyond. Many have tried to kill her, but she just keeps coming back sooner or later. She's the type to flip her hair to win a man's heart, then ditch him in the forest naked to watch the wolves pursue.

Pacelli - A desire demon who enjoys mischief and manipulation. He's been around for a while, and knows The Twins from some of their adventures. He even tried taming one of them once, but instead got his rear handed to him and forced to become a servant for a while. While they're friends now, he'd never try to cross them again for fear of his existence. Other creatures however, are fair game. He makes deals with whatever will supply him with entertainment, pleasure, or power, and sometimes he has to make protective deals with other, stronger, creatures to keep himself out of trouble. Many a soul have a bounty on his head, and just as many have a contract to protect him. Pacelli's the type to dig himself a deep hole and use others as a ladder to climb out of it.

Mufasa - Fire, fire, burn! This salarian has a love for all things aflame, and is a feisty piece of work. Being a mercenary, he and his brother-in-arms Kaiul were a near unstoppable force, until Kaiul met a sudden and unfortunate end. That nearly broke Mufasa, and his antics flew out of control. He always has something burning, and if it's not, then it will be in next minute or so. Reckless, sacrificial, suicidal, Mufasa takes his sadness out on the enemy, charring everything he can. He's the type that never needs caffeine, for he's always wired.

Ranik Kent - Outcast, loner, and mercenary, this Ex-Jedi Knight travels the stars in his smuggling ship and doing those odd jobs to keep the credits rolling. He was never fully on board with the whole "defend the defenseless" type of thing the Jedi talked about, but he never hated to the point of being a Sith, so here he is, stuck in the middle. He's sarcastic, protective of his ship, and training constantly. He's the type to use whatever he can in a fight, including civilian meat shields.

Hayden - Self insert. Controls symbiotic micronanobots that act like a second skin, weapon, shield, or tool. Remote control and hacking of electrical devices, 'bee' swarms, shock therapy, the works. Just a fun little What If scenario.

Mallory "Merikh" Liridon - Illusionist, enchanter, alchemist, Duskblade assassin. His home was raided by a nasty guild-cult due to drama between his father and another, and all but himself were murdered. Left on the doorstep of another guild, Merikh was trained and broken to be one of the most fearsome assassins in the land. His reputation speaks for itself as civilians and other guild members alike grow pale from the mere mention of his name, and many don't walk away from an encounter with him. Almost utterly loyal to his guild, the only thing that could stand in his way is his own feelings for another, a partner he's known all his life in the guild. Cool, playful, and brutal, Merikh is the type to disguise himself or break people in order to achieve his goals.

Liadan - Werewolves always get the love, but what about a rabbit? Liadan has power and control over elemental ice, and is a student to learn how to properly handle her ability. She's a punk, but easily excitable and startled. She's the type to prance about in joy then freeze when another watches her, embarrassed at her childish outburst.

Meiller Kristophf - Vampiric butler. He serves his family for generations, and is now at the service of his Lady. He has been assigned to classic duties such as cleaning, cooking, doorman, bodyguard, and supportive lover, though he has also seen work as an assassin, diplomat, and sacrifice to prove a point. The only thing he refuses to do is turn someone of the family, no matter how much he may be begged to do so. He's the type of guy to be a literal punching bag and never complain.

Onhir Thylie Niar'Haanin - Drow trickster assassin, neutral evil and stealth master. 'Nuff said. She's in it for herself, whether that's gold, power, or infamy, and has been known as The Drenched. She will betray her party at any moment if it suits her needs, like the time she was used as a shield against a bear and she just disappeared, leaving the hider to face off against the bear alone. However, she does have respect for other skilled folk, and doesn't dive into fights half-thought out. She loves the stars and night sky, one of the only times she can be seen as "vulnerable" or personable, and she wishes to know more about the celestial bodies there.

Riyel - Werewolf Breton Nightingale. Explorer and collector of powerful gear, to which she displays in her home.

Mazii - Necromatic Breton conjurer. Mad God. Archer illusionist. Looks like death, smells like death, has seen and been part of some crazy stuff.