bloonewb

Magic RP (Open to new players)

"Certainly," Ardasa said. "This really is fascinating. Everything is so . . . historic. It really reminds me that my home was raised no longer ago than the last year. One day, I, or my children, shall have stories like those held within your walls. Let us hope for that."
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It was late, and yet Rughoi was not asleep. Hard to be, when the emerging guilds and their masters are ceaseless in their demands, each less sufferable than the last.

"With all due respect, Your Might, I would rather these matters settled with Her Mercy," said one, a middle aged kobold missing a few fingers. He scratched at the loose scales hanging off his chin and neck. His words struck like a flung rock, and made Rughoi visibly twitch. The guild leaders seemed not to notice.

"I as well," said another, a youngster an uncomfortable shade of deep red. "Where has she gone? Why do you take her place?" He spoke with the accent of a southern tribesmen, lilting with sudden stops. Rughoi resisted the call of his anger, to wring the scrawny necks of everyone at the table, ending with himself.

"I have mentioned this," Rughoi said, slowly picking his words. "Ardasa is away, handling matters of diplomacy." Immediately, the guildmasters voices drowned him out, complaining and debating, some with him and some against. He buried his snout in his hands, willing with his soul for his bound one to suddenly burst through the door and send these merchants away. What made her so different from he, that he is cursed to watch her deal effortlessly with words and people where he struggle? What, were she here, would she do? Rughoi silently stood up, and drew his dagger. Instead of plunging it into flesh, he slammed it into the wood, jolting the guildmasters into silence. "Ardasa is not here. I am. The quicker we come to an agreement, the quicker you may return to your duties, and return a month hence to find her in the palace." Slowly, one kobold nodded, a grim tilt of his head. Others joined. For the first time in a long time, Rughoi let a grin split his face. "Excellent choice. Now, regarding the supply tax . . ."

Magic RP (Open to new players)

"Eudoxus? Surely not that Eudoxus," Ardasa said. "My people's elderly and wise kept tales of our ancestor tribe, which they only remember as the Invincibles. My father and a select few others can claim descent from their remains. It was said that the Invincibles were impervious to swords, and raided great cities, plundering them of their gold and recruiting the kobolds into their ranks." She gazed intently at the statue, feeling somehow as if the image were somehow familiar. "The story goes that a vengeful tyrant by the name Eudokos, or Eudoxus, depending on which elder told it, raised an army of devil-folk and struck the Invincibles while they hid in their caves. The tribe was slaughtered nine kobolds of ten, and those left scattered, becoming chiefs in the neighboring tribes. Amazing, how legends can be."

✢ Affairs of the Court ✢

@cerozer0 The first post said "Regency Era", which in our time was during the Napoleonic Wars. I think everybody has gunpowder.

Haven: Summer camp for Supernatural Teens

Lukas casually walked back to the scissors and slipped his messy remains of one in with the rest. He quickly backed up, hoping nobody saw. If anyone asks about it, his plan is to deny everything and hope they believe him. He was about to return to his place, perhaps ask the councelors about other activities, when something made him stop. "What the-" he sputtered. "Is that me?" Remarkable, how someone was able to so expertly capture his likeness, or someone close enough. It was all there, down to the bent scissors and the wood and the Greek lettering. "Uhh . . . That's not going to be your name tag, is it?" he asked. Seems odd to him for someone he'd never met to have a picture of him, which they both are going to see for the rest of the month-or-two of their stay here.

✢ Affairs of the Court ✢

Finn Son of Rinney

Name: Finn "the Lank", Son of Rinney
Title/Occupation: Count (Chief) of Namara
Nationality: Bridgemont
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Straight

Appearance: As his name suggests, Finn is as tall as he is skinny, and is plenty of both. He shoots up from the ground like the trees of his homeland, his arms bony as their branches and his legs sturdy as their roots. Hanging from his head is a mop of fiery hair, oftentimes tangled and messy. His eyes are a glittering green, focused always on someone or another in awed reverence. Freckles dot his face with such intensity as to appear as if an army of them are threatening to take over his face. Plastered on his face is a wide and easy grin, one that seems to the world genuine and kind, because that is exactly what it is.

Interests: Finn's primary interest is people. He is fascinated by the stories of those around him, and would often try to press them for personal stories, which he would eat up like beans. When visiting foreign lands, can be found most frequently in their libraries, paging through legends and annals. He loves telling them almost as much as hearing them, and could weave tales prominently featuring the fairy people and elements of the supernatural.

Personality: Finn is many things, none of them harsh or demanding. He's easy-going, head-in-the-clouds, and endlessly romantic. He believes that he could discern the perfect woman for him just by looking into her eyes and letting the magic of love do its work. He likes to make friends and smile, and cannot withstand the lashing of tongue or blade for very long. Barring his tall tales, most of the things that Finn says are genuine in spirit, and he tries if possible to abstain from sarcasm.

History: Bridgemont is a centralized kingdom only in name. While the "Ducolenn", king of Bridgemont, represents the face of the nation, feudalism is still very much alive within his kingdom, and he has little say in the matters of his dukes, commonly referred to by the locals as "kinlords". It is to one of these kinlords, Rinney "the Serene" son of Seelic, that Finn is born. His mother was a concubine, quickly set aside by his father and forgotten about, but Finn was heir.

He was raised under the watchful eye of his father, who wanted to mold the perfect warrior for an heir. Finn was trained in the swordsmanship of the gentleman, and by his early teens, could hold his own well enough with both rapier and saber. Then, he was sent to battle. Kinlord Rinney was settling a feud with the Chief of Namara, and it was the responsibility of Finn to strike the killing blow. The campaign was an unsettling thing, and tested Finn's will with every man struck down by his blade. By the time he reached the fort, he had enough of battle, and decided come what may, he would walk right into that fort and handle things diplomatically, at the risk of his own neck. The fort surrendered the next day, and Kinlord Rinney raised his son up as chief of the new domains.

From there, it was off to tour the world. Rinney planned a course with a landing in every major port in the known world, and tasked Finn with returning betrothed. He was shipped off, with little say of his own, complete with a retinue of warriors, diplomats, and bagpipes, the newly made Chief of Namara who never got a chance to rule his chiefdom.

✢ Affairs of the Court ✢

@Congee Finished and up for review!

✢ Affairs of the Court ✢

Hi! Is there still room in this RP? If so, I would like to pitch my character here:

Finn - FINISHED AND UP FOR REVIEW

Name: Finn "the Lank", Son of Rinney
Title/Occupation: Count (Chief) of Namara
Nationality: Bridgemont
Age: 19
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Straight

Appearance: As his name suggests, Finn is as tall as he is skinny, and is plenty of both. He shoots up from the ground like the trees of his homeland, his arms bony as their branches and his legs sturdy as their roots. Hanging from his head is a mop of fiery hair, oftentimes tangled and messy. His eyes are a glittering green, focused always on someone or another in awed reverence. Freckles dot his face with such intensity as to appear as if an army of them are threatening to take over his face. Plastered on his face is a wide and easy grin, one that seems to the world genuine and kind, because that is exactly what it is.

Interests: Finn's primary interest is people. He is fascinated by the stories of those around him, and would often try to press them for personal stories, which he would eat up like beans. When visiting foreign lands, can be found most frequently in their libraries, paging through legends and annals. He loves telling them almost as much as hearing them, and could weave tales prominently featuring the fairy people and elements of the supernatural.

Personality: Finn is many things, none of them harsh or demanding. He's easy-going, head-in-the-clouds, and endlessly romantic. He believes that he could discern the perfect woman for him just by looking into her eyes and letting the magic of love do its work. He likes to make friends and smile, and cannot withstand the lashing of tongue or blade for very long. Barring his tall tales, most of the things that Finn says are genuine in spirit, and he tries if possible to abstain from sarcasm.

History: Bridgemont is a centralized kingdom only in name. While the "Ducolenn", king of Bridgemont, represents the face of the nation, feudalism is still very much alive within his kingdom, and he has little say in the matters of his dukes, commonly referred to by the locals as "kinlords". It is to one of these kinlords, Rinney "the Serene" son of Seelic, that Finn is born. His mother was a concubine, quickly set aside by his father and forgotten about, but Finn was heir.

He was raised under the watchful eye of his father, who wanted to mold the perfect warrior for an heir. Finn was trained in the swordsmanship of the gentleman, and by his early teens, could hold his own well enough with both rapier and saber. Then, he was sent to battle. Kinlord Rinney was settling a feud with the Chief of Namara, and it was the responsibility of Finn to strike the killing blow. The campaign was an unsettling thing, and tested Finn's will with every man struck down by his blade. By the time he reached the fort, he had enough of battle, and decided come what may, he would walk right into that fort and handle things diplomatically, at the risk of his own neck. The fort surrendered the next day, and Kinlord Rinney raised his son up as chief of the new domains.

From there, it was off to tour the world. Rinney planned a course with a landing in every major port in the known world, and tasked Finn with returning betrothed. He was shipped off, with little say of his own, complete with a retinue of warriors, diplomats, and bagpipes, the newly made Chief of Namara who never got a chance to rule his chiefdom.

Haven: Summer camp for Supernatural Teens

I'm ready to go to lunch now.

Haven: Summer camp for Supernatural Teens

Lukas carved in the last "ς" with the now-mangled scissors, and stood up in triumph. He wanted to shout and cheer, but reminded himself of where he was, and kept quiet. No doubt the rest of the class was hard at work, and the last thing they wanted was some guy interrupting their concentration with his obnoxious voice. Still, though, the nameplate took hours to make, and it was surely nearing lunch. He looked around for a clock, but there was none. Not on the walls, at any rate, and he didn't know any of the fellow campers well enough to borrow their timepieces.

Lukas patted around in his pockets, hoping beyond all hope that something in there had the time, and his hand enclosed around something square-shaped and cool. Right. He pulled out the phone and looked down at the blurry screen. Yep, it was nearing midday. The phone brought back the scene of when it was given to him, which was joined quickly by more. He missed Theodora. He missed Karen, and Timothy, and the rest of the D&D club. How many weeks of camp did he have? A month, two?

The Waves Hold Secrets

Name: Eveyon (Last Name Omitted For Religious Reasons)
Age: 19
Gender: Male

Appearance: The most immediate aspect of Eveyon's appearance is his hair. Or, rather, the lack of it. He keeps his head shaved bald, in accordance with the faith of his homeland. Under the glittering scalp, his skin is a middling brown, and his eyes a striking black. He stands at 170 centimeters in height, and is deathly thin from long periods of fasting. His face he keeps solemn, again one of the duties of the priesthood, and tries best he can to convey no emotion.
Personality and Backstory: Eveyon was the son of a priest, and thus was raised within a priest's coven. Within its walls, he learned of the holy books and tenets associated with the faith, in the hopes that should his father pass, he would take his place tending to the parish. He clung to the faith, it being the only thing he knew, and internalized its teachings till he knew them front to back in his sleep. He has worked hard from youth maintaining the pristine reputation of his parish, keeping the holy days as well as the grounds of his father's temple. On his nineteenth birthday, his father, as well as the other priests, tasked him to leave home on pilgrimage to spread the faith. Immediately, he set out to do so, hopping on the first ship he could find heading for uncharted waters.

Classification: Explorer (and possibly Chaplain)
Specialization: Lookout from the Crow's Nest

bow to the queen