A5G

Sovereign's Will: A Fantasy Roleplaying Game. [CONCLUDED]

Yvonne had been itching to get a word in with Mattie at least, as the only individual in the team that she's remotely familiar with. The knight didn't seems to want to waste time though, and... what's that elf doing? Was that some documents from the king's desk? Well, guess that's one individual to pay attention to. Since the chamberlain rushed back in and hadn't came out screaming "the king is dead!" she probably didn't take the chance to murder ol' Freddy. Some old acquaintance, probably. Cant tell the knife-ears' age by their look.

"Whoa, hold your horses a bit there Mattie." Called out the diminuitive mercenary, clapping quickly twice to gather attention. "I'm sure you've got good idea about everyone here and all, but the same ain't true yeah? We'd do better if we all know what to expect of each other."

An idle hand went down to rest on the pommel of her sword, except that it wasn't there because they're temporarily confiscated before meeting the monarch. Yvonne smoothly changed the motion to rest akimbo at her hip. Unless everyone had received briefing but she somehow missed it, the sentiment should be shared by the rest of the hirelings.

Sovereign's Will: A Fantasy Roleplaying Game. [CONCLUDED]

[NPC Post]

"Your magical nature isn't exactly subtle, Ser Henri." Antigone watched impassively at the destruction and reconstruction, her fingers interlocking in front of her. It was a highly unique application that even she had no chance replicating, but the way it worked was closer to innate abilities instead of the academical approach of the standard mages. "Far from either of us to question the King's intention but if a mage is needed, hypothetically speaking, then either myself or my circle would've been drafted. That was not the case, so do be confident in yourself."

Or maybe it's because the Duchess' expertise was needed elsewhere. She certainly hadn't been idle. Nevertheless, Antigone reached for a drawer and took out what looked like a tome with metal spine bound by iron rings. There's only a handful of pages for how thick it was, bulky parchments with arcane pattern filling most of the space with some scrawl depicting what exactly it'll do.

"I cannot in good conscience hand over spell formulas to someone with no license, you know how badly a flawed construct can go. These are pre-made. Tear a page out, point the diagram outward and channel some raw mana into it to achieve the effect. You have three uses of ward, three flash, and three arcane bolts." It's a disproportionately expensive set of consumable compared to the effect, usually given to prized initiates for some modicum of self-defense. In this case, though, that's the best she can hand out without prior notification. Resource weren't infinite, it was actually quite strained these last few days. "Now I wouldn't presume your schedule, Ser Henri, but I believe some people will be very cross at your lack of presence somewhere. Is there anything you need of me?"

Sovereign's Will: A Fantasy Roleplaying Game. [CONCLUDED]

[NPC Post]

"Well you best get used to it, yes? Cant have the imperial tutor skimping on basic manners." Not like that would help much at the moment, considering the student he's supposed to be tutoring was missing. Antigone shrugged, not really having the energy to talk too much about it.

"Is this related to what his highness is planning- no, dont answer that." She had some idea, after having to perform auguries related to a certain man-bear the druids were hyperventilating about, but the duchess wasn't part of whatever plan cooked so it must be relying on secrecy. Far from her to accidentally spill the beans, but no harm in taking precautions. "I have sufficient rest, Ser Henri. Now, on to this spellbook - I am unaware that you are qualified as a magus."

Sovereign's Will: A Fantasy Roleplaying Game. [CONCLUDED]

[NPC Post]

The door to the office creaked outward, opening without any visible mechanism to reveal an... office. It had no window, with a mahogany bookshelf much larger than the door itself occupying every inch of the far wall. The desk of the Royal Mage was L-shaped that hugged the wall before abruptly turning to slice through the room, filled with various parchment with partially finished arcane scribbles and whatnot. It stood mere three feet from the door, and considering the arrangement of chairs already occupying space it left not much room for "guests" to stand at. Instead there's plenty of gap between the desk and the bookshelf where a haggard middle-aged woman in dark dress sat. Her own chair was obviously custom made, puffy and soft with leather cover and adjustable back and footrest. The entire edifice was tilted nearly ninety degree backward, where the groaning mage slowly straightened up as she took stock at the tutor.

"Ser Henri, please take a seat. How may I assist you today?"

Well-oiled clank subtly echoed as the sinfully comfortable chair straightened, allowing a full view of dark eyebags underneath bloodshot eyes. Days of running around performing various augury hadn't been kind to Duchess Antigone Steinwall, though her commitment to the crown outweighted back pain and sleep deprivation. Still, there's only so much a single woman could do.

Sovereign's Will: A Fantasy Roleplaying Game. [CONCLUDED]

[NPC Post]

"Your expertise is well noted, Lady Rosenving. You only need to stick to it, as the rest of your team stick to theirs." It was likely a bit more curt than necessary, but Fredricus was not in the mood to entertain the mercenary's bravado. There's dozens of men and women like her if one were to discount the noble blood in her veins, a highborn origin that weren't visible in the slightest with how she was behaving.

And next was... the bear. To think that among these motley group he'd feel the greatest connection to the one least human among them.

The king sighed, deep and weary. There was a plea as earnest as his own, coming from someone cuting an entirely different life. War, huh? His eyes swiveled to the pile of paper on the desk, bringing back the thought of simply blowing the horn and march his army all the way to the royal castle of Meche. It would be so... easy.

"War is a last resort. Even now the court is divided over it, with no clear conclusion in sight." Thank all the gods for that silver lining, because if the nobility were instead inclined to it then Fredricus wasn't sure if he can keep himself from stamping approval then and there. "But opinions may change should the prince's disappearance become public. I am keeping it under wrap for now, but it cannot last forever."

The stake was closely implied. Find the prince, and perhaps a modicum of diplomatic relationship can still be salvaged yet.

Then his attention switched to the imperial tutor, the man almost as motivated as Fredricus himself. Good man. If only there's more like him in this kingdom. "The royal forest is locked down and under watch to preserve the scene. Some preliminary investigation have been done, though to little result. On the other side, some of the assassins were slain in the attempt and we have the bodies preserved for more thorough examination. Dame Matilda will provide the details, Ser Henri."

And next, the traveling doctor. As far as Fredricus knew there's more tales surrounding this one man than everyone else in this room, hopefully it was a good decision bringing him on board."Subtler support will be made available through Dame Matilda." Messages, checkpoint passes, latest information, discreet access to the sites of crime, things like that. "Anything noticeable will require further authorization, but is not completely impossible." Not every problem can be solved with a surgical knife. Sometimes, one will have to take a sledgehammer to it. As for knowing when and where? Fredricus believed that his judgment hadn't deteriorated far enough to fail to make the distinction.

"I believe I have said everything I need to say. If there's nothing else, you may be dismissed."

Sovereign's Will: A Fantasy Roleplaying Game. [CONCLUDED]

Great. I'll make a character asap.
Is the discord still a thing? The invite is no longer working.

@Milkman

discord.gg/2EaVKMd5

Sovereign's Will: A Fantasy Roleplaying Game. [CONCLUDED]

"Brigands", they say. Yeah, right. The chaff, sure. But the core of the formation? If those ain't trained soldiers she'd eat her hat. The arms and whatnot looked like they're grabbed off the forgotten corner of some armoury and any identifying crest or color painted over, but that wouldn't change the method of which these fine folks wield them.

Duck. Swing low. Crunches and horrified scream. Stomp on the neck and move on. Halt, lean back. Let the polehammer swing past. Advance again, downward swing and crush the head. Risk a glance. The town militia still held line. Good enough. Continue, reach the center. Pikemen behind shields, classic. Tap into her blood, parry and shatter the pike. Swing again, catch the shield by the edge and rip it out of the arm. Wielder's off-balance, smash him in the shoulder and down he goes. Gap wouldn't stay for long, but the shieldwall's open. Plunge straight in. Deep breath. Howl.

And that's the end of it. Like a rabid fox in a henhouse, Yvonne tore her way through the formation until what remained finally broke and flee. She's not chasing that remnant, curse them and their longer legs. Bit of a shame about the per-head payment, but whatever. That's just a nice bonus.

Taking a deep breath, the Rosenving scion took a moment evaluating the battle as her mind slowly unswitch from the battle trance. A few nicks on the hauberk, some bruises, but not as bad as it could've been. The seemingly patchwork adornment of faded fabric had gained notoriety alongside her name, these past few years, and the effect was getting more and more pronounced over time. These people recognized what it signify, and half of them wavered just from Yvonne getting closer. Ironic how every soldier was drilled at how rout was the greatest killer in a battlefield, yet it still happen anyway. The logical part of the mind didn't always won against the more animalistic tendencies.

All in all, light losses on her person. Right arm, shoulder, and down to the hip will be sore for a day or two, but that's a price she's used to pay. For now though - tallying, and return to get paid...

"Miss Yvonne Rosenving?"

Yvonne paused, her mentality flipping back into battle. The militias and other mercenaries were combing through the field like carrion eaters, so she didn't paid much attention as long as they didn't get too close. This one stopped well outside a weapon's reach, which was fine and dandy, but the usage of her old family name wasn't. She didn't go by that, and anyone that do recognize it were usually on their payroll to bring her back. She heard that the fools finally burned through their remaining wealth and faded into obscurity a few years back, but it wouldn't do to be complacent. This was still Kindeance territory, however fringe, one that she's not even gonna bother stepping into four years ago. Too easy for the Rosenving to mobilize a sizeable force should they wanted to.

She eyed the newcomer, first noticing the pristine uniform. Not someone who participated in the battle, then. Her grip on the mace tighten a fraction before she noticed the crest on his pauldron, one that wasn't quite possible to forget. The royal family's crest. Huh, lad looked young so likely a squire but what's the royal knights had to do with her?

"Yeah, tis' I. What's a fancypants like you doing so far out from the capital?"

There's the slowly-escalating skirmishes, and she knew for a fact that both sides were mustering troops at the border. But even then the king's knights wouldn't be anywhere near that, unless the royal family themselves was present. Had the little prince grew up enough for this? Maybe the twerp grew some backbone in the eight years since Yvonne last seen him. Cant think of other reason for the knighthood to specifically comes looking for her.

"Squire Anderson at your service, ma'am. I bear a missive, for your eyes only." The lad was keeping himself under control well enough as he passed an envelope emblazoned with the royal seal, though he's clearly uncomfortable from how his eyes darted at the various corpses and the bloodstain on Yvonne's mace. She didn't comment, warily taking the envelope before glancing through the content.

It managed to be unnecessarily lengthy while at the same time didn't convey much information at all. By the royal family's authority her expertise was wanted in the capital, keep her movement discreet, dispose of the message after she's done reading, and that's just sum up the important bits from an entire page of words. What a waste of ink. The job wasn't even mentioned, even though her skillset boiled down to thorough deliverance of extreme violence Yvonne would like to know what she'd be up against at least.

Still, she grinned as she passed the missive back where the young squire fiddled around with his fingers before the whole thing caught aflame. Not even the Rosenving at their peak could get away with impersonating the royal seal, so it should be safe enough. Imagine a contract for the royal family - risk will be high, no illusion on that, but the rewards should be a good match to it. Besides, they're generous enough to pay for her trip. A small gesture, but let's make the most out of it yeah?

"Very well then, Andy. Can I call you Andy? I'll collect today's payment and then we shall be on our merry ways."

*****

Good thing there's no one to bet with, because Yvonne would've put her money on the prince being the reason of the summon and thus lose out quite decisively. She eyed the room, the king looked quite a bit older while that was- hey, if it wasn't Mattie. A real knight now, huh? Good for her.

The mercenary knelt, and rose before the king finished his sentence. Being impertinent wouldn't do, normally, but the whole situation was weird enough and there's things to gleam out of people simply by behaving out of expectations. The fact that old Freddy tolerate her antic without even a word? Why, that's interesting.

...ah, so that's why. The twerp of a prince went and got himself nabbed. That's no good at all, nope. And from the time frame, should've been quite some time. Sure hope the trail hadn't gone cold by now.

"I'll just state it now. Your majesty." The title was added a beat too late, as if she had initially forgotten to do so. "I kill things. Ain't much for finding things. Hope the rest of this merry band can offset that part." She eyed the crew, not even recognizing any of them. Probably a good thing? Since anyone Yvonne personally recognizes likely would be just another killer for hire. Cant have their role overlaps now, yeah?

Sovereign's Will: A Fantasy Roleplaying Game. [CONCLUDED]

Name: Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade"

Species: Human

Age: 28

Gender: Female

Appearance: Shorter than average, dark hair, somewhat sun-kissed skin from outdoor activity, and way less scars than one would've expect. Usually clad in mail hauberk adorned with pieces of banners from felled foes (or a pretty dress, at rarer occasion), and always with at least one weapon in her person.

Images

Bio: When Yvonne was born she's the only child to the opulent but very much declining house Rosenving, it took less than two more decades of ridiculous parties and all-around bad financial management before it was driven to the verge of bankruptcy. Naturally there comes the talk of marriage upon which Yvonne, an oddball obsessed with distinctly unladylike things like driving the business end of a weapon into someone's soft flesh, all but absconded with her great-grandfather's blade. The rest of her life was spent in a wild ride of mercenary work and avoiding (more commonly, well, thoroughly violencing) the men hired by her family and/or her would-be fiance to bring her back. Her journey brought her all round the three kingdoms and more, even after her ancestral home collapsed and pursuers stopped coming.

Invited by promise of great reward and, among other thing, to try save the little henchman boy that used to follow her around (yes, that would be the prince), and the fact that she happen to be lurking around the border already, Yvonne stepped back toward the royal court of Kindeance once more.

Skillset: Well versed in outdoor survival, knack for murder and violence, oddly high spatial awareness, dancing, easily thrives in chaotic situation, very good at intimidation, weaves pretty dang well, and is proficient using common melee weapons. Personally prefers the mace despite her title.

Spells:
-Mansplitter (Self-buff. Gain inhuman strength for a very short period. The stronger the effect, the greater the backlash.)
-Warcry (AoE debuff. Inflict terror in a wide area. Greater effect on closer target, and greater effect on direction Yvonne is facing.)
-Bloodlust (Passive. Haste, pain tolerance, and resistance to mental effect. Starts off weak but ramps up as the fight goes on.)
-Resilience (Passive. Harder to injure, less affected by existing injuries, and heals a lot faster than normal at the cost of increased calorie usage.)

Equipment: Daily necessities (preserved rations, a tin pot, medical supply, knapping, change of clothes, etc), adorned mail hauberk, the sword her great-grandfather wielded that probably never saw use since then until it landed in her hands, a heavy flanged mace, a rondel dagger.

Other: Can be inserted to the plot any time it's convenient (or fun) to do so.

Sovereign's Will: A Fantasy Roleplay Game. (Currently Open, And Accepting Players)

Name: Yvonne Rosenving, "The Mad Blade"

Species: Human

Age: 28

Gender: Female

Appearance: Shorter than average, dark hair, somewhat sun-kissed skin from outdoor activity, and way less scars than one would've expect. Usually clad in mail hauberk adorned with pieces of banners from felled foes (or a pretty dress, at rarer occasion), and always with at least one weapon in her person.

Images

Bio: When Yvonne was born she's the only child to the opulent but very much declining house Rosenving, it took less than two more decades of ridiculous parties and all-around bad financial management before it was driven to the verge of bankruptcy. Naturally there comes the talk of marriage upon which Yvonne, an oddball obsessed with distinctly unladylike things like driving the business end of a weapon into someone's soft flesh, all but absconded with her great-grandfather's blade. The rest of her life was spent in a wild ride of mercenary work and avoiding (more commonly, well, thoroughly violencing) the men hired by her family and/or her would-be fiance to bring her back. Her journey brought her all round the three kingdoms and more, even after her ancestral home collapsed and pursuers stopped coming.

Invited by promise of great reward and, among other thing, to try save the little henchman boy that used to follow her around (yes, that would be the prince), and the fact that she happen to be lurking around the border already, Yvonne stepped back toward the royal court of Kindeance once more.

Skillset: Well versed in outdoor survival, knack for murder and violence, oddly high spatial awareness, dancing, easily thrives in chaotic situation, very good at intimidation, weaves pretty dang well, and is proficient using common melee weapons. Personally prefers the mace despite her title.

Spells:
-Mansplitter (Self-buff. Gain inhuman strength for a very short period. The stronger the effect, the greater the backlash.)
-Warcry (AoE debuff. Inflict terror in a wide area. Greater effect on closer target, and greater effect on direction Yvonne is facing.)
-Bloodlust (Passive. Haste, pain tolerance, and resistance to mental effect. Starts off weak but ramps up as the fight goes on.)
-Resilience (Passive. Harder to injure, less affected by existing injuries, and heals a lot faster than normal at the cost of increased calorie usage.)

Equipment: Daily necessities (preserved rations, a tin pot, medical supply, knapping, change of clothes, etc), adorned mail hauberk, the sword her great-grandfather wielded that probably never saw use since then until it landed in her hands, a heavy flanged mace, a rondel dagger.

Other: Can be inserted to the plot any time it's convenient (or fun) to do so.

[Closed] Lost RPG

The river wasn't that wide and relatively shallow too, but what's waist high for average people would've went up to Verdant's chest. No way she'd reach the bones without getting drenched, so might as well take a rinse. The snake slipped out of her offensively bright sackcloth, halfheartedly rinsing the fabric twice before squeezing the water out and tossing the resulting lump haphazardly on a rock.

Then she walked into the peacefully flowing water.

Verdant blinked slowly. By the second blink a thin membrane covered her eyes as the pupils narrowed into a pair of slit, the blurry underwater sharpened into clarity. She knelt next to the skeleton, examining whether there's trace of injuries on the old bones and the mossy clothing.

Then she poked it with a pointy stone, just because.