AtomicNut

Blood, Riches and Glory: Ghosts of Iron Coast

Pyria

Child of the Flame

Location:Actium

Pyria blinked twice as her scratches magically healed somewhat. Magic. Her eyes widened so slightly at the display, and she made no further motion to move. Until the bun was presented at her. With the swiftness of a feral cat, she snatched the bun out of the man's hands and began chomping greedily. It was so good, after having eating trash for the past weeks! The only thing she needed the money for was for food, so she was beaming at the development.

"Are you my new master, mister? Have you come to reclaim me as familiar?" The girl ventured to say, upon the offer of food and lodgings. "I um..." She hesitated, before taking a couple of steps back and dropping in a sort of servile curtsy. "I am Pyria. Nice to meet you, new master. Please take care of me." She ventured to say, finally raising her eyes to match his. A third figure approached suddenly, which prompted Pyria to yelp and hide behind Luca. "EEP!" She squeaked.

"My old master was killed by undead. That's all I know." She snapped back. Lousy idiots appearing out of nowhere with questions. "Go away, please." She added.

---

Tsabal

The Dark Whisperer

Location:Campus Magnus

The lone silent figure sighed, as she kept shambling around the campment, her donkey and belongings safe in a stable. Same sorry sight as everytime she could open her eyes enough for her to get a view before the sun completely blinded her. Drunken, unwashed soldiers who thought they were the Emperor´s elite, both in ego and self-appraised skill. Moldy tents, like unwashed, filthy giant loincloths, where men and women ate, sleep and made more of the little loud obnoxious bastards who seemed to live only to yell, bump into people, steal things and eat up valuable food rations. Women were no better than men in that regard, those who could potentially catch an eye or two prettied themselves up in hopes of earning money with their bodies, and becoming self-perpetuating plague spreaders among the camp. She couldn't even remember how many of those had healed.

A bunch of trash, led by a drunk buffoon called Gaius. But that was all good, Tsabal liked it. Were they more fit and capable, they would have already discovered her. Were they more righteous, she could never have hoped to earn her money by making pain-numbing drugs and poisons, and the rare chance of divination among their lot. Still, this was but a stepping stone for something greater, and she was just pooling her resources by encouraging the denizens of the Empire to cater to their vices and indulgence if she could make a profit out of it.

The reward for the wraith and curse dispelling was palatable, though. In a single stroke, she could wipe the roadblock that had prevented her brethen to keep conducting raids in the surface, as well as earning a considerable sum. It could be done, she thought to herself, as she dodged a drunken offduty soldier who was perched on some tramp's ample bosom and kept zigzagging through the assorted tents. She just needed the right people. Some of the soldiers had told her rumours of an hero of the east coming to help. Could be worth checking. But what kind of hero was that, she wondered?

It was too bright and too noisy, and the brat speaking about recruiting heroes, -which someone had obviously told him to- was getting on her nerves. So, she ventured forth to find her cozy, silent spot. Beneath a tree.

Spot that was sadly taken. She clenched her fist reflexively, before gazing at the inoportune idiot who had decided to crash at her favorite spot. Huh. A female, robed, possibly the size of an elf. Could she be... nah, there were no more survivors of the raids. Curbing her hostility, she raised her gloved hands and folded her arms across her robed chest.

"You must be new in town, huh. Robed silent type who doesn't like noise."

Blood, Riches and Glory: Ghosts of Iron Coast

@AtomicNutSounds like a grand ole time! Can I have the hearts? We shouldn't waste anything :)

@OneStoryToMany

No. I need those to resurrect people and summon demons.

Blood, Riches and Glory: Ghosts of Iron Coast

@AtomicNutThat...is a really good point :p is it like the Mexican practice of slitting the hen's throat over a hot plate? Cause I always thought that was an especially interesting divination technique.

@OneStoryToMany

No, the much older Greek and Celt version of looking at the shape and order of the entrails when the animal's gutted :P

Teenage Wasteland

Am here, still.

Blood, Riches and Glory: Ghosts of Iron Coast

Uh so I actually have a question. I didn't think of this before, but some of my power won't be usable unless the other characters are comfortable with me harvesting pieces from still living creatures.

While those abilities are unnecessary for plot purpose, the results would be mostly positive. Would your characters accept the more...gory side to the magic my character uses? Or should I just ignore a portion of the magic I have (since it won't be long before the majority of living beings will be my companions...and like El isn't stupid enough to try harvesting pieces from them :p)

@OneStoryToMany

Pff Tsabal kills critters all the time for divination.

Blood, Riches and Glory: Ghosts of Iron Coast

Three female elves in campus magnus. Is this the chance for a romantic comedy??

Blood, Riches and Glory: Ghosts of Iron Coast

Edit: nevermind, my entry is twice posted.

Blood, Riches and Glory: Ghosts of Iron Coast

I think this could qualify as tanky. I mean, clerics are tanky... right?

Tsabal

Name: Tsabal

Age: 196

Gender: Female

Race: Drow

Race Overview: The villanous, forsaken cousins of the elves, trapped deep underground. They share the long lifespans, the nimbleness and the magic aptitude of other elves, however drow are also infamous for their resistance to magic. Twisted in an autocratic female theocracy who foments murder and sacrifices, they're cunning creatures, always looking for an opportunity to strike back at the surface who once cast them away. Having been so used to the dark and damp tunnels of the earth, they have trouble adjusting to the sunlight, and it saps their strength right away.

Titles: The Pretender (Among Drow), Dark Whisperer (among others).

Appearance: Tsabal is a lithe, well proportioned drow. With lilac eyes and cascading silver hair that she keeps in a ponytail, she appears far more harmless and gentle than she actually is. Tsabal confines herself to complete body concealing robes and hood of simple construction and earthy colors, and seldom shows her face in public, specially during daytime. Beneath that, she has a pendant of a dark goddess in her neck, denoting her priestess status. If need be, she can fight in a dark half plate with a shield.

Weapons:
Spinerender : This hand-and-half (bastard) sword of demonic craft is Tsabal's most prized posession. A sword of exquisite, if ghastly appearance, it burns everything it cuts with unholy energies. The sword itself is said to be cursed, and only those with enough willpower may wield it without succumbing to bloodlust. Tsabal herself acquired her weapon by sacrificing her newborn son to a greater demon.

Crossbow: Her more mundane weapon. It's just a well-made light crossbow. She also carries silver-tipped bolts just in case.

Steed: Bane of Gardeners, a somewhat mischievous donkey which she rides. For some reason he likes to eat prized flower patches.

Abilities: As a drow, Tsabal has enhaced senses and can see into the darkest pit without any problem. She's also fairly resistant to hostile magic. She however, loses a great deal of strength in open sunlight, and repeated exposition might even harm and kill her. While fighting in open daytime, she's as helpless as a clumsy barmaid.

Talents: Tsabal was reared as a priestess of whatever Dark Goddess the drow worship, and a such she's no stranger in the ways of commanding and diplomacy. She's also good with her sword, and she has a decent skill with the crossbow. As a priestess and a healer, she's also a good medic and herbalist...and an excellent poisoner.

Magic: Tsabal's dark arts fundamentally draw from three sources, and two of such are highly forbidden arts. All of them, are however linked to her goddess, and unless she satisfies the whimsical and terrible nature of her deity, she'll be rendered helpless.

Clerical Magic: The most widespread and basic magic among clerics. It includes healing wounds, and setting up blessings. It also includes the art of divination through animal sacrifices, and the highly sought Resurrection spell. Of course in this last case, resurrection carries a price to pay, usually in the form of human sacrifices, or if need be, a lot of materials and animal sacrifices.

Dark Arts: The ability to wither and tamper with undeath is a given among the drow clergy. They can perform curses that sap one's strenght and wilt and age someone before their eyes, and even create, repair and command undead. Tsabal however, can't create anything bigger than the basic undead, and she can't control anything beyond a lesser revenant with her magic (and even a lesser revenant is difficult to steer).

Infernal Arts: The most forbidden arts Tsabal knows, these tamper with the demonic energies and beings. The most basic use of Infernal arts is the ability to summon hellfire, an unholy black magical flame that burns through things it even shouldn't be capable of. Hellfire is difficult and taxing to cast, and if Tsabal is not careful she might end up dead by overexertion. A second application of this involves creating summoning rituals to bring forth demons, although summoning anything greater than imps might carry a chance of the summon revolting and killing the caster. Tsabal learned the infernal arts from a greater demon after sacrificing the lover whom she had sired a son with.

Backstory: Tsabal was once an aspiring, all ambitious priestess and commander of the drow that dwelt beneath the Iron Coast. Her arrogance and ill-timed incursion in the surface 50 years ago cost all her followers, and almost her graces with the goddess and her own life. That made her rethink her ways and strategy. Rather than blindly charging in a lustful frenzy to spill the blood of the surfacers, she needed to get a wider view of the world at large.

Tsabal spent decades travelling from town to town as a mysterious crone, offering divinations, healing and poisons to the most seedy of individuals. She started from the bottom, and slowly rose and infiltrated herself in the ranks of the Empire underbelly, now fractured and in recession. She learned how to pull the strings and concocted a master plan, one that would pave the ground for a drow invasion.

But the theme of resources was a constant worry, and as such, she heeded the call of riches to the Iron Coast. Perhaps in addition she could further her schemes and reunite with her folk, deadlocked by the undead invasion.

Starting Location: Campus Magnus

Blood, Riches and Glory: Ghosts of Iron Coast

Could always take a tanky dwarf blacksmith or recycle a drow priestess i once played elsewhere.

Blood, Riches and Glory: Ghosts of Iron Coast

Ladies and gentlemen, I present you the frypan +5 of Dragon Slaying.