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@DragonofTheWest, I threw my character introduction in the IC I hope that was allowed, blame it on my eagerness to start this story.
Green eyes zoomed in on the target.
Then back to burly shouting man with the cleaver.
“Come one come all! Freshest Cuts in all the lands, you want your Beef I’ll be willing to Cut you a Bloody Deal! Also Succulent Sausages that will simply sing as they sizzle in your skillet! You know you get the best from Baxter’s. Seduce your husband, we all know the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach!” The red faced butcher shouted.
To be fair he was right, of all the butchers in the city Bertie Baxter was one of the best. Naturally you paid for the quality, after all the man owned at least 6 butcher shops through various parts of the city, thus being able to sell his wares.
It was also for this reason Lore had started to target him, after all with all the profit the man made what was one tiny string of sausages?
Now if he would only put the cleaver down, then Lore could drop in and liberate some of those savory delights.
She kept a close eye on her surroundings from her position in the shadows.
Most hardly noticed someone like her half tucked away behind a couple of crates.
It was a busy morning in the Upper Market, which was always promising, scanning the area for guards it all seemed clear.
Today 'was' going to be another lucky day.
Bracing herself she snuck a little closer, having a care that she wouldn't act too suspicious.
As she watched him put his cleaver down on the table in order to help another customer, time seemed to slow down.
This had been the moment she had waited for!
With a quick sprint she ran behind him moving past the other end of his table instantly snatching a large string of sausages as she tried to make her escape. Running as fast as her tiny feet would allow she heard the angry shouts from the man behind her.
“HEY! HALT! DAMN THAT ROTTEN CAT!” She dared not to look back as she watched something sail past her as she ducked into one of the alleyways. She could hear whatever it was clatter as it connected with the wall.
The last thing she heard was the angry shout of Bertie going: “Guards! Guards!”
Now with a little luck and if she kept her head down she could avoid those dumb ‘tinplates’ as well. Passing through a couple more side streets she finally dared stop and rest before sticking her head out to peak into one of the larger streets again.
As it seemed relatively safe a satisfied grin formed on her face, confirming there was not another guard in sight.
Pulling her head back she regarded her loot. A whole string of sausages!
“Hehe!” She chuckled before she purred in delight. “And I didn’t even need to use my magic today!” She proudly purred before she realized what she was doing and slapped a hand over her mouth.
“Damn it not again!” Her ears hung low for a moment as she regarded her paws.
Would she ever...? She shook the thought from her head again, picking her prize up and making her way to the poorer section of the city.
There she headed for the only place with people she pitied more than herself.
The orphanage.
Taking the string of the rickety driftwood gate she swung it open moving inside the little courtyard that was full of rotten old buildings and rickety wooden shacks.
As she did so one of the bells went off and the children headed outside to greet her as they were always ordered to when they had visitors.
Old Faline, a small but tough old lady ran the orphanage and she never turned a lost soul away.
She had found Lore that early morning after her first night on the streets and since then Lore had felt a sort of obligation to pay the old crone back for the kindness she had once bestowed on her that early misty morning.
“Dinner is served!” Lore chuckled as she held up the large string causing all the children to cheer.
“Frederick you take those to the kitchen…I am sure they will taste wonderful with the soulcakes that were given to us by the Baker yesterday.” Old Faline said as she watched the children take the gift away.
A sharp glint lay in those old grey eyes as she leaned on her walking cane moving in closer.
“I suppose I better not ask where they came from?” She inquired calmly.
Lore scratched nervously behind her ear.
“Best not really, though I am sure a certain nameless butcher would have been more than willing to donate such a trifling thing to such a worthy cause as this.” She stated with a shrug before having to duck as the cane swept over her head in an attempt to make her listen.
“What have I told you about stealing?”
Lore looked annoyed.
“I did it for the kids you old hag, they don’t need to starve just because the prices are ridiculous! That fat Baxter barely can get through the door with all that money that he is making. So technically I did him a favor, he won’t miss a couple of coins!”
“If the guards catch you you’ll lose a hand if not more!” Old Faline argued with a sigh as she clacked her cane on the ground and continued to stare at her.
“Promise me Laurellyn you won’t steal anymore!”
“I didn’t even do it for me!” She retaliated before her staring contest ended and with a sigh her shoulders sank. “Fine! If it makes you happy!”
A warm smile now formed on the old woman’s lips.
“I just don’t want to see you hurt my girl.”
“I know…” She said knowing the old woman meant well, it was just life was tough enough already so what if she stole a couple of things to make life a little easier.
It wasn’t like she stole jewelry or something for greed’s sake. No, she usually stole a loaf of bread or a string of sausages, a turnip or fresh fish. It wasn’t even from the poor vendors she stole either, still Old Faline hated stealing and made sure you would know it. That cane had hit its mark before after all.
“Will you stay with us today?”
Lore shook her head walking back towards the gate.
“I got a new lead on where the old codger might be, so maybe I’ll be run into him this time and get him to undo all this.” She said pointing at herself as she pulled the string to open the gate again.
“I hope you’ll find him dear. Be careful.” Were Faline’s words to Lore as she passed through the gate with a last wave of goodbye.
Her small feet quickly hurried down the street and made her way into the city again.
If her contact had been right he would be in the Arena today, some grand occasion or other, rumours and tall tales had buzzed through the city.
It had led to the arrival of people far and wide to Pandarosa and maybe the old codger would be amongst those who would greet the guests. She snorted it would suit his purposes.
Her old master had a love for flair and prestige, he was someone who considered socializing as important as having skill. Being from the proper families and appearing appropriately was in his eyes what distinguished the plebs from the true masters of the Arcane.
How arrogant and haughty, the man would have married himself if he would've had the option.
Sadly though he was nowhere near what one consider handsome. Oh, he could use a little glamour or two, but that didn’t change the fact that true beauty would always escape him.
As she came at the harbor her eyes quickly scanned the unfamiliar ships, intending to start her inquiries there were it not for a vessel that immediately caught her eye.
Holy smokes, she thought as she recognised it.
She had only read of the United kingdom of Asterion. Of Elves and Dwarves and tall tales of Dragon Knights.
But apparently she wasn't the only one who noticed.
She could instantly feel the shift in demeanor around her, some people started whispering ill remarks and spoke of murderers and tyrants.
Well, they could hate them all they wanted, Lore however seeing an opportunity too good to pass decided she would move in for a closer look.
Name: ‘Lore’ short for Laurellyn

Age: 23 years old (though you couldn’t tell).

Race: Cat - Human

Appearance:

Two bright almond shaped green eyes that glow in the reflection of the moonlight, her pupils widen and narrow, appearing as dark abysses sucking you in.
Her fur is of a sultry silken midnight black save for the tips of her large ears that stick out of her makeshift hat and the tip of her swishing tail.
From an old blue scarf she managed to make her makeshift coat and from clasps, ribbons, handkerchiefs and strips of leather she made herself a nice belt and pouches to carry her supplies in.
She stands about a halfling’s height, so she’ll reach to someone’s thighs if you include her ears.
Yes, you are looking at a cat ladies and gentlemen.

Personality:
Nervous in uncertain situations, curious and studious with a streak of mischief and tendency to pretend she is braver than she actually is.
Though when the gloves come off she will snark at you like an old man, insult your family and put her claws in your genitals. All is fair in love and war after all.
To her friends she is generally very kind and holds onto a strange sense of loyalty. She hates dirty smelly socks and spiders and isn’t always on the right side of the law allowing her own desires to get the better of her.

Skills/Abilities:
Lore was an apprentice mage after all, so her skills lie in casting some spells, mostly convenience ones dealing with cooking, cleaning or mending.
She has studied the more powerful spells, but in theory only. Her master never really took the trouble of teaching her anything in the first place she was meant as ‘decoration’ or simply to claim he had a student. But that didn’t deter her from trying shit herself. She taught herself some convenient magic mostly, but she got a hold of more controlling spells; such as locking doors, pinning down relatively weak creatures or a single guard long enough for her to make a clear getaway.
She also had been forced to learn how to implement her more…unlawful skills; stealing, swindling and lock-picking. It wasn’t that she wanted to do those things, but a girl’s gotta eat.

Weaknesses/Flaws:
Due to her curse she is losing her memories slowly bit by bit and ultimately she’ll lose herself completely if she can’t get rid of it.
She’s a sucker for handsome people.
She’s a chicken at heart, she’d much rather run than fight.
If she performs more powerful spells they could either fail completely or won’t hold for long.

Additional Info you want to share:
Laurellyn was chosen to become an apprentice during her 14th year. Her eagerness and hope for the future was that she would one day became one of the revered High Masters and be offered great amounts money and prestige.
She dreamed of such childish things as having handsome men fall at her feet in devotion and whom she would keep as her butlers so they could massage her worries away and read poetry to her.
A life of luxury and adoration.
That was her dream then…her future however turned out to be quite different.
She was stuck either following her Master around when he went out and was more or less the indentured servant.
She was stuck doing menial house work like washing his socks, cleaning his Tower, fetching and returning the books he borrowed from the Arcane Library, cooking his meals, feed and clean his experimental mice and a whole lot of other stuff he deemed beneath himself to do. Those first years she learned practically nothing, but read quite a lot to at least feel like her time wasn’t truly wasted.
As she became older she demanded that he would teach her, slowly gaining ground and trying to catch up on the years of education she missed. Slinging spells and making some great strides in actually being a mage.
But it wasn’t until 2 years ago that everything changed for her.
Her Master had brought a powerful magic artifact home and like always had simply ordered her around cleaning his things for him. She had inquired after his stone, but he had waved it off with empty promises of him teaching her ‘something’ upon his return. He told her to leave the artifact be, but the artifact had a lure she couldn’t resist and when her Master was planning to go out she had seen her chance.
Maybe the artifact could aid her in becoming stronger, gain more knowledge or anything else that could aid her to combat the drudgery of her life.
So she sneaked into his chambers and took a peak.
She found the simple amber stone, it held a molten red alluring glow and she couldn’t help but admire it up close. Holding it in her hands she could feel it brimming with power.
That was when tragedy struck.
Her master returned home unexpectedly and the stone had slipped through her fingers shattering all over the floor. Upon the discovery her Master had grown so angry that he had literally thrown her out of the tower telling her to never return.
It was then that her whole world started changing, her whole being changed.
No longer were her days filled with the mundane routine, no now she was struggling to survive on the streets. She had slept under a bridge that first night and even had looked at the scraps that people had thrown out at a nearby inn, but the dogs had chased her off. In her horror she had attempted to catch a mouse but upon catching it, the beady eyes begged to be released and she simply couldn’t deal with the fact that she had to lose all of her humanity in order to eat so she had to go hungry that night.
That was two years ago, she had gone from a fair Mage’s apprentice to her scruffy beastly form stealing sausages and slinging grease spells when she had to, taking odd jobs to make ends meet and sleeping in the attic of one of the many community stables Pandarosa had for the mounts of their travelers.

Current possessions: Aside from her attire;
- A small pocket mirror
- A small pouch containing some of the tools she uses; think lockpicks, needle and thread, a couple of buttons and marbles.
- One small kitchen knife
- A length of rope
- An old red hair ribbon
It all sounds rather fun, I am willing to jump into this as well.
Do you want me to post my character(s) in the character section or do you want to look it over for approval?
Tyrhallan noticed Arn’s return first, stepping aside distancing himself a little so the two could have their deliberation. He couldn’t help but smile warmly as he watched Eilis turn around and meet Arn halfway, only stopping in front of him fidgeting with her sleeves a little a bit unsure.

She had revealed so much.
She had shown them what had happened to her back at the coven and she couldn’t help but feel Arn would probably be repulsed by her now, after all who wouldn’t be?
Everything that she had seen and that they had done to her tainted her very skin. She frowned as her eyes fixed on the tattoo’s that marked her hands, but when Arn started to speak her attention immediately turned back to him.
Listening to the options before her and also the fact that Arn allowed her to make the choice herself, promising he would be there to see it through, felt utterly undeserved. His warmth truly was like the sun.
At his words she breathed a sigh of relief, before she felt tears stinging her eyes again. As she launched herself at him hugging him tightly she hid her face in the fabric of his clothing, hiding her tears as she squeezed with all her tiny might.
What had she done to deserve his goodness? She wondered before feeling the weight of his words, the choice was hers.
Never before had such a liberating thing, such unknown freedom and blessing scared her so much.
But she couldn’t let Arn’s kindness or Tyrhallan’s loyalty to go waste. At that moment she swore to herself that she would proove herself to be worthy of it. She would have to show them that their trust was not wasted, that she was worthy of their friendship and their help.
So taking a deep breath she steadied herself, before pulling away from Arn a bit but never letting go.
Her heart skipped a beat, knowing the importance of this decision.
“I want to be rid of this…” she said hinting at the constant chase and her tattooed form. “And I want to stop them doing whatever they did to me so that no other has to suffer what I have suffered.”
She looked up at Arn a bit uncertain, as if she needed to find the strength that was reflected in his eyes.
"I am scared." She spoke honestly hesitantly but continued trying to be brave like them. "But I would still be in darkness without your help." Her hand took his entwining their fingers in a gentle manner. "No...I would be dead, lying in some ditch and forgotten if it were not for you." She looked up at him as she rallied her heart together.
“I’ll do as Lord Venray suggested. I’ll go back, to Revendahl with you and I'll be y…” Her words were cut short by a rapid series of cannon fire. A frenzied bombardment was let loose, even colouring the sky and sending shockwaves through the air as one of the servants came running out of the house towards them.
It was Dannesh.
“My Lord, they’re fighting practically at the outskirts of the city! Your uncle has already departed towards the front, stating he would go and offer his assistance, he ordered for us to aid you in your departure.”
Tyrhallan’s head turned instantly towards the bombardment.
“That fool! ‘I’ would have gone if he’d asked me!” He hissed angrily beneath his breath, the last thing he wanted was for his uncle to die without him being there to stop it. But he knew damned well that the old badger would have scolded him for not seeing the bigger picture. He was a knight, even though he was technically out of commission he was still obligated to perform his most solemn duty. To die for King and Country was an Honour, to protect the innocent and weak was their vow and it was an oath bound in blood by the Venray family.
One Tyrhallan had taken himself and would be held to by his own sense of pride and duty.
Deciding that no more time should be wasted he ordered Dannesh to saddle to dragons for them to mount and prepare them for a couple days journey.
He turned to Eilis and Arn.
“I suggest that you prepare yourself for our departure. I will say good bye to my parents and join you in a moment. It seems the Hearthguard is struggling to keep them from reaching the city. They are already at the outskirts. For better or worse Lady Eilis, I fear we’ll have little choice now. So tell us what is your destination?”
Eilis nodded understanding the immediate shift in Tyrhallan’s demeanor. It went from almost lackadaisical to blunt militaristic in the blink of an eye.
“I will do as your uncle suggested. So Revendahl it will be.”
Tyrhallan nodded curtly before telling Dannesh to aid them with whatever they needed, he needed to see his parents first before taking off. "We'll meet back here in 20 minutes tops and yes you'll be together, I wouldn't have the heart to separate the two of you."He stated lightheartedly, but with the war in the background its humour was cut short, Tyrhallan hurried inside knowing he had little time to waste.
Yup, can't wait
Any specifics on playable races that we must abide by or can we concoct anything we want provided it is fantasy related? I have a couple of ideas, but I'll pm you to see if they'll be allowed.
In Winter's Edge 10 days ago Forum: 1x1 Roleplay
My main Character:

Name: Vera Ramsley
Age: 20 years old
Appearance: Vera is a brunette with a normal build, her green eyes seem to be gifted by the otherwise cruel forest and she usually wears her hair in a bun or braid to avoid it getting in her way. Her clothes are worn and torn, since she hardly has any time to mend or make her own anymore since her father's passing.
Personality: Vera worries, having lost both her parents and having only her sister left she was pushed into her maternal role at an early age. She had to grow up quickly without the 'luxuries' of other children. This also forced her to be more straightforward with people and being more stubborn trying to hold on what little she can still call her own.
Occupation: She's head of her family and a shepherd, the wool she's is able to collect she spins into yarn and provides as her offering, up until now she's been able to make it, but with the creatures growing bolder how much longer will it last?
Family: Her mother died when she and her sister were still young and her father never wanted to talk about it. He himself died 2 years ago from a creature attack, although Vera and Evey hadn't been present, men from the village had come up the next day with their father's remains. According to them the wreath had been torn from his throat and the creatures had killed him quickly, but still Vera can't help but still have strange nightmares about it. About it happening to them too...
In Winter's Edge 10 days ago Forum: 1x1 Roleplay
Vera’s quick feet hurried her along the safe path through the woods. The path of the small winter hardened flowers called ‘Snow’s Mercy’. The light blue flowers with their white inner petals were the only thing that seemed to hold the creatures at bay. Her free hand shot up to her neck, making sure her wreath was still around her neck as she made her way down the slope and towards the village. It was Tribute day and she was running late.
It had been difficult enough managing the flock after her father’s passing and gather enough for her toll every half year. Her offering of wool and frost berries would have to do.
Seeing the trees become sparser and the first thatched roofs coming into view she released a sigh of relief, hopefully she would still be on time. As the sack bounced against her back she hurried down and towards the village centre.
But as soon as she stepped upon the first stones that marked the village’s boundary she heard a soft whistle that made her look to the left.
“Well, well if it isn’t Vera Ramsley, I was beginning to think you wouldn’t make it.” Sam teased her as he came out with his ‘offerings’.
Samuel Hunt was a young man who always had been rather reckless and fearless, though Vera couldn't help but think half of it was sheer stupid luck. Sam was raised as a Huntsman and as a skilled hunter his offerings were ‘of the forest’. Rabbits he managed to snare, squirrels he managed to lure and trap and fowl that he was able to shoot with his bow. He had often helped her out when she had trouble finishing up before the deadline and now of all things he was making them late.
“Well I won’t be able to make it if you’ll be keeping me Samuel Hunt.” She said reminding him of their haste as she briskly moved on.
“Ho..Hold up Vera!” The young man said as he hurried after her.

They made their way to the townsquare where the tributes were handed out and the offerings were taken in. Just in time it seemed, Sarah shot Vera a nervous glance and seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.
"Ramsley! Vera Ramsley, bring forth your offering."
Slightly out of breath she set down the sack and apologized for the poor quality of the wool.
The Tolltaker merely raised an eyebrow and his assistant checked if everything was in order, before he nodded to her and send her to the other table to fetch her tribute for the coming winter.
Breathing a sigh of relief that it was over Vera stepped aside as she heard the next name being called up.
"Yazuki, Chris Yazuki step forth and bring your offering." With a curious glance Vera looked on from the other table as she watched a man step forward.
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