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3 yrs ago
Current Wheremst
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3 yrs ago
What if *I* was the small creature all along?
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3 yrs ago
O . O staring
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4 yrs ago
OooooooOooOOOOooooooOOOOOooOoooooooOOooOOOOoooOo
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5 yrs ago
V.1.26 (House of Caecilius Iucundus); 4091: Whoever loves, let him flourish. Let him perish who knows not love. Let him perish twice over whoever forbids love.
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Be gay do alliance
Morgaine awoke with a gasp, a deep breath of air reminding her now-stirring form that it was not yet dead. Her eyes still closed to the world, she spent the next few moments re-learning to breathe, slowly, steadily. She had not died there, at least she didn't think she did. However, she had fallen into a void of sleep so deep she may as well have been. With an arm that almost creaked with the strain, she pulled her hand up to grasp her head. Yes, her tangled hair was still there, its bun having come loose somehow. It did not matter how, that can always be fixed later, when her strength returns. Behind her hair . . . the reassuring feel of cloth. Without looking, she could tell its colour, and the familiar weight upon her back. How fortunate that she hadn't lost her greatest protection. Well, nothing left to do but open her eyes.

When at last she did, Morgaine wished she had kept them closed. A nightmare, that was the most succinct word for it. Blood and guts lay scattered about the floor, staining the wood reddish brown. Worse still were the creatures, scuttling about her like maggots on a corpse. She was not a corpse! With a half-asleep swipe, she slapped a few off of her body, and they dropped with a low chortle into the ground, passing through it like air. Was the ground itself but an illusion? Feeling was coming back now, as she stretched her fingers on the other hand. Grasping the sides of the bed firmly, she arose into a sitting position, to take stock of her surroundings.

The room was large, and sparsely adorned. It reminded her more of a wartime field hospital. People in rows, columns, some clearly dead, some who appear undamaged. Some she doubted severely were human at all, with their strange veiny appearance and pallid complexion. One most disturbingly not human at all, or at least not completely. A vaguely mannish body with otherwise-comical dimensions, long wide palms that ended in claws, attached to spindly arms covered in an animal's hair. A portruding jaw that housed rows of jagged round teeth. A demon, straight from a fairy tale.

"Well go'on then, ye," she half-whispered, to herself. "Can't be sitting around forever." She then pushed herself off of her cot, her legs hanging off hitting the ground with a clean tap. So, this is how a hunter's life begins.
Alright I think my sheet is ready to be scrutinized. Do you have a plan as for how to integrate a late joiner like myself into the story with the other players?
Oh, thank you. I'll continue tinkering with the sheet.


I noticed the group doesn't use the Char tab. Is this by intention?
What does everyone (whose characters are in the palace) think about progressing the scene? I think the current one is nearly exhausted of rp potential.
Vyarin nodded slowly, trying to watch the surrounding courtiers without staring directly at them. Nosy nobles, so they were indeed. Many weren't even hiding it very well, stealing long glances at the two of them while their conversation partners spoke with exaggerated motion to keep up appearances, or lowering their voices to hushed whispers when they could see either of them talk. He was being stared at, listened to, every word was compromised here in this crowd. Annalise had the right idea, whispering into his ear.

"I see," he said, finally, when he felt decently certain that nobody was watching. "A shame that issues would form in that way." Was that wording vague enough to be dismissed? Did he come across as too cold to Annalise? He was too fixated on the nobles. "I am not so worried. My cousin Tellos brought with us a number of loyal men. If such a need arises for them, they will serve you- err, your father." He kept his voice low, mimicking her, though perhaps he needn't bother. What were the odds of anyone in that crowd being fluent in Prozdy?
Hello, I'd like to ask if this rp is still open for new members.
"Is that an answer?" Tellos asked. "That does not sound like an-"

"I think!" Vyarin half-shouted, throwing an arm in front of the squatter Tellos' face, before he could finish. "I think that the best thing is for you to gather the rest of the honour guard. I will be safe here, in front of hundreds of pairs of eyes." Tellos' face soured. He looked back to Brudzkon, who caught it and returned his own.

"Now, where was I? Oh yes, as I was saying . . ." Brudzkon started again with the other courtiers, seamlessly transitioning back to the conversation. Unlike his two masters, Brudzkon spoke the Apura language flawlessly, as if having been born within the palace itself. He was a slight man, of middling height, his hair less blond than those of his people and tending closer to brown. To any but the most trained of spies, he could originate from anywhere at all.

"Indeed, cousin. I have Brudzkon to watch me, if nobody else. If you take this time now to mobilize the guard, on the king's orders, we shouldn't fear any crisis at all," Vyarin said, grinning wanly. Tellos finally stormed off, as much as he can through the crowd and the watchful gazes, muttering something in his own native Ezadion, a farther march-land of the League with a language quite unlike Prozdy. Vyarin himself spoke nothing of it. With Tellos gone, Vyarin turned his attention back to Annalise. "He is an administrator and a war-leader. One of the most meritous in our history, it is said." His expression is sheepish. Perhaps it was time to broach this serious topic, and cut this charade the two shared. ". . . You don't suppose something is . . . gone wrong? Over there, regarding your father." Vyarin did everything he could not to point.
@LostDestiny Sorry, don't want to be a bother, just reminding you that it's your turn in our conversation. I'd be happy to change my post if it's difficult to respond to.
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