Dervish

The Seven Elementos

Udine and I are waiting on @Scrapula, I think, unless you just want to carry us along, Bakalaka.

The Seven Elementos

<Snipped quote by Dervish>

Okay cool, just checking! I didn't want to seem like I was leaving Randall out or anything.

@Undine

He'll introduce himself after Leon and the baddies react. I have a few ideas brewing, depending how the scene plays out.

The Seven Elementos

@Undine oh, not at all! I would never ask someone to change up their post... well, unless I was GMing and someone was crossing a line or ten. If anything, that little act of defiance is going to earn Raine a new friend. :D

The Seven Elementos

It was as close to a warm homecoming as one could expect heading into Jerova. After passing the city gates, and largely avoiding the guards’ ire due to a lack of visible weapons, Randall took note of the city that had been his home for quite a few years. The merchants were still hawking their wares in hastily assembled kiosks and booths, the class divide was still painfully apparent when not five minutes after seeing a nobleman ride by in a rich velvet doublet and a few overly large rings on his fingers with a retainer of body guards, Randall witnessed two boys, who couldn’t have been more than 6 or 7, thoroughly pounding on one another with fists over half a loaf of bread. Some good Samaritan probably thought they were being kind to a filthy street urchin, not counting on the desperation hunger could bring about. Randall did not move to interfere; the memories were still fresh enough that he remembered being one of those children, brawling for scraps. The only reason he’d survived to adulthood was because he was bigger and older than the other kids and could physically take food from them. Besides, one didn’t stay invisible and unremarkable in cities like Jerova for long if you did anything the locals didn’t do.

And one thing the locals never did was help the beggars.

It wasn’t to say Randall was heartless and blind to their plight; he had often shared some of his excess takings with those who could use it, and left food for those who needed it more than him. It was always very subtle, and he didn’t want his charity work going noticed. If someone who was on the receiving end of charity could adequately describe the man who helped them, word would spread, and life would soon become miserable for anyone remotely matching the description. Like pigeons, beggars would often swarm those they figured were good for a handout. The worst part was, any bit of charity, while well intentioned, didn’t really go far or do anything to solve the problem. Randall simply didn’t want to see people starve or freeze to death in the cold streets that molded him.

A caw sounded from overhead, as if it heard the musings about pigeons earlier. Gruff was perched up on a rooftop, surveying the streets for anyone careless enough with their food to drop it. The crow, something Randall saw as a friend, was easy to pick out as it was missing two large feathers off of his right wing, the result of a squabble with another pair of crows over a rabbit carcass some time ago. He didn’t ever go far, and even if he left Randall’s sight for a few hours, he always seemed to know where to find him. Randall smiled, in spite of himself. At least he had one friend left in this city.

Suddenly, cries about a thief filled the streets and Randall caught a glimpse of a boy who was fleeing from somebody. He grunted, knowing all too well what some of the punishments for thieves were in this city. Age didn’t seem to be a factor orcs considered, either. Randall subtly checked his gem pouch, filled with odds and ends of gemstones and jewellery he’d nicked on thieving jobs that he used almost exclusively for bribes. It was hard to feel shortchanged about the value of a gemstone in exchange for a meal or information when it was amongst the easiest acquisitions one could obtain, should they find themselves in a strange house. He had a very real fear he wasn’t going to be eating as well today as he had anticipated.

Turning the streets and following the reactions of the crowd, Randall eventually found what was going on. A young boy, accused of stealing medicine, a green-robed man who was almost certainly one of the sorcerers, a hulking orc guard, and two people, a man and a woman, who seemed to be negotiating for the boy’s release. Randall watched with arms crossed, wondering how the woman, a slightly woman of small stature and gentle features, seemed to be pushing hard to free the boy, concern genuinely evident on her face. Compared to the other onlookers, she looked positively radiant and pristine, like some painting of a goddess or an artist’s lover. It was hard not to have eyes lingering on her for more than fleeting glimpses, especially considering the present circumstances.

Her companion was another story altogether, a heavily muscled beast of a man who towered over nearly everyone in the crowd, save perhaps the orc, and the man was more conspicuous by his odd attire. Nearly naked and standing like a bronze statue, Randall quickly decided he was not a man who he would want to cross. He could tell from the fleeting glances from the guard and the sorcerer that both had their misgivings about being in his present.

"Yes, I don't wish to press charges. That is-- if the young lady can pay me the platinum piece that medicine was worth?" the sorcerer said, inwardly making Randall cringe as he looked at the terrified boy. He may have to cough up the ransom after all.

The Seven Elementos

@Undine I'm going to end it on a "wait and see" note, depending on how the situation plays out. Randall's just another face in the crowd, but regardless of if he decides to intervene (which will likely happen if Raine and Leon can't afford the ransom), or approaches them after the conflict is resolved, he will be interested in speaking with them regardless, as he has a soft spot for urchin kids being forced to steal.

And post is up! Feel free to do what you gotta do, I'll react to your guys' posts. :D

The Seven Elementos

My sheet is up in the character bin, both Baklava and Jenno approved!

I'll get working on a post in a little bit, I'm thinking of having him meet Leon and Raine, since it would be the most logical place for someone like him to notice a situation like that.

The Seven Elementos

Randall (A Pseudonym) , real name Reeve Artimus

Age: 20-something. He lost track of his birthdays years ago so doesn’t rightfully know how old he is.

Race: Human

Gender: Male

Appearance: Standing at an unimpressive 5’07”, Randall is none-the-less covered in strong, lean muscles he had earned from years of scaling the cityscape and surviving brawls in the streets. He has a few faint scars across his body; torso, legs, arms, and back that aren’t as impressive as the long pronounced scar going from his left ear down to his collarbone. All were painful, but informative, lessons in what not to do in a fight. He has a short reddish-brown beard, kept short by infrequent shavings, that continues uninterrupted up his sideburns and blends in with a short-cut black hairstyle with longer and greased back hair at the top, giving Randall and appearance reminiscent of a heron, especially when one considers his hawk-beak of a nose.

While his looks can be described as roguishly handsome, after a fashion, years of endured malnutrition and hardship show on his face in hard creases and distrustful eyes. Now, while undoubtedly more healthy and confident with a better diet. He is adorned with a well-worn thigh-length overcoat, covering a blue surcoat and grey button-up shirt beneath. His sleeves are concealed beneath a pair of hardened leather bracers, adorned with an aesthetically pleasing set of engravings. Black leather boots and trousers round out his attire, along with a waist belt where a numerous pouches are situated.

Theme Song:



Nature: Thrust into a life of hardship and just trying to survive day to day when he was only 13 years old, Randall spent the remainder of his teenage years on the street, blending into the city and observing its people to make ends meet. Shrewd and capable of remarkable violence when necessary, Randall will avoid fights where possible unless he is absolutely certain that course of action would be beneficial, preferring intimidation and guile over brutality. Seeing himself as slighted by society as a whole, Randall is resentful towards the nobles and lords, and thinks nothing of taking their belongings or stealing their food.

He isn’t heartless, however, and now he has established himself a steady network of contacts and found steady work doing illicit dealings for pay, including spying, Randall has not been hungry for some time and can afford to keep himself clothed and sheltered. He will often share his extra spoils with the needy, especially the urchins that live on the street. He wishes to see a more equal society where the poor are cared for and the rich didn’t sit on their endless wealth like dragons, but he is a realist and knows that some dreams won’t come true. For now, he is content to be a thorn in the side of the wealthy while he continues to search for the answers he desperately has sought for over a decade.

On a personal level, Randall can be charming and polite, and for those who earn his respect, you would be hard-pressed to find a more loyal friend. He has a soft spot for dogs and has a “pet” crow called Gruff that he befriended by sharing his meager rations with over the years. It often stays around, just out of reach, but sometimes will perch upon his shoulder. So far, he has been unsuccessful teaching the crow to repeat words, although Randall has discovered the bird will caw a word remarkably similar to the word “ass” when someone with an aggressive disposition draws near.

Backstory: Born to a wealthy family of siege engineers, Randall was born as Reeve Artimus and lived a life of relative comfort in the opulent city of Frel. His father and older brother, Trent and Maxwell respectively, had carried on the Artimus family tradition since before Randall was born. He only has vague memories of his mother, whom his father spoke of in pained and irreverent tones; Randall would later piece together that she had an affair with some textile merchant and left Trent and her sons behind as a condition of going to live with this merchant. Randall has only seldom wondered about her, deciding quickly that a real mother wouldn’t abandon her children for the promise of more wealth.

The family’s estate had numerous workers bringing in raw materials, working it into parts for elaborate siege equipment, and helping Trent and Maxwell build impressive rams, trebuchets, and other such weapons of war. Randall helped move light materials around, but he did not learn anything of value of the trade before the fated day where his father and brother would leave for the Dwarven Kingdoms to the North with the desire to commission new clients in the post-war world, leaving Randall behind to manage the estate.
It was an arrangement that would only last three weeks.

Knights and soldiers came in the night, torches held high, and without warning or mercy, stormed the estate and set fire to it, burning down the workshops, stables, worker housing, and the house itself. Randall had escaped, if only barely, by staying in the cover of darkness and running from the screams of men and horses burning alive. He had not made out a banner from the raiding party, but in the flickering flames, one had looked eerily similar to the old banner of King Antony. More discerningly, the raiders were not orcs and goblins, but men and dwarves. Something was amiss, and Randall fled into the forest, fearful of being discovered, but never seeing sign of the men who had destroyed his home. Not knowing what fate befell his father and brother, but suspecting it was connected to the raid, Randall set off with nothing but the clothing on his back, finding the road again and joining up with a merchant caravan headed to Joerva, who offered him clothing and food in exchange for having an extra sword hand.

After years of exile from his home, Randall, now using the familiar pseudonym, made ends meet by petty thievery, fighting in the streets with others as desperate as him for territory and spoils. Filthy, rejected, and very much angry at the world, Randall was determined not to roll over and die, and he took every scar as a hard-earned lesson, and soon, he was giving more than he was receiving. His fortunes had changed after securing a small paring knife from a butcher’s stall, which he used to cut purses and steal coin and gems from unaware passerby’s. Having some form of income, Randall was soon able to semi-regularly feed himself and bathe, and eventually afford new clothing. This new, cleaner Randall was able to approach people without arousing suspicion. This led to the most lucrative trade of all; information.

Randall was an excellent climber, and his hearing was second-to-none. Able to eavesdrop and tail people discretely, using the same skills he had used as a pickpocket and thief, Randall began to find dirt on rather important people and in the seedy taverns around Joerva, he had earned himself a reputation in the underground as a man who could get things no other could. His only restriction was he would not ply his skills against the poor; to do so would be akin to betraying family he knew all too well.

Upon his 17th birthday (not that he was aware this was the case; he had long since lost track of dates), Randall had made an interesting and at the time terrifying discovery. While up in the attic that had served as his base of operations for the past several months, several aggressive and unfamiliar voices came from below the floor, and he pieced together enough that they had figured out that he was taking refuge in the home. Unarmed and fearing for his life, Randall clutched his fist tightly and wished for more than anything to have a knife in his hand.

After a few tense moments, Randall grew panicked as he felt a creeping sensation like a wave of insects crawling down his wrists, and inside his fist, something solid emerged. He went to throw it away from him reflexively, but his grip was too tight; but the object caught his eye; a knife, not unlike the short dagger that he used to cut purses had formed in his hand, taking on a strangely ethereal and unreal quality, but being as solid as any blade he had wielded before. Fascinated and no longer as fearful of the goings on downstairs, Randall waited until the danger abated and he placed the dagger down, and to his surprise and fascination, it dissolved into the shadows, as if it was never there. Randall moved forward with a new purpose and power. It was hard to pin a crime on someone if they did not have the knife.

Deciding to leave Joerva for Joervo after his close-call with what he assumed were the authorities, Randall continued his trade there, building a secondary network and finding new clients who had need of his skills. He has remained there since, looking for information about his family’s fate. One day, while tailing a rather wealthy lady accompanying a count, a voice shook his consciousness, imploring him to return to Joerva. Started, Randall took a few moments to compose himself before feeling the draw of the call; he had encountered some rather strange things over his life, but this was the first time he had been telepathically hijacked. Knowing it better to find out what awaited him in Joerva than to ignore the summons, the man set course for the city he had fled for years, apprehensive of what he would find.

Goal(s): To find out the fate of his father and brother, to create a fairer society for the poor. Everything else is secondary to him, although he had yet to be approached with something of the magnitude of the summoning of the Elementos.

Inventory:
-Coin purse
-Fine leather gloves, used when thieving.
-A water flask
-A shaving razor
-A bag of seed for Gruff
-Assorted gems and riches, used mainly for bribes.

Text colour:0072bc

The Seven Elementos

Ohshit.

Jenno, McHaggis!

I'm one of the chums Bakalakawakkawoo pegged as a threat to humanity, so I may be putting up a sheet for that dropped player, despite having an awful time trying to roleplay the past few months. HELP ME REGAIN MY POWERS, K.

For those of you I don't know, hello! We might be neighbours soon, and I encourage you to ignore any and all sounds coming from the basement. It's nothing, I promise.

Coruscant Sacked: Aftermath

I think I'm going to bow out here, despite my own personal desires to continue with this fine group. I've largely lost my spark for roleplaying, and other than my personal game I'm running on another site that's also on life support, all my other games have died off and I've been in no hurry to replace them. It's not giving me the same satisfaction it did before, and I feel like my well of inspiration has finally run dry.

I'm sorry, everyone. I know I've been difficult the last little while, but with a bunch of things like work, health problems, and generally needing to use what free time I have in other ways, I haven't been able to spend much, if any, time writing at all the past 4-5 weeks, of which I've literally written three paragraphs.

I hope to see you guys around, and I'll still be floating around if you get the urge to look me up and chat, and you guys are all a fantastic group I enjoy immensely, but unfortunately this is one of those times where I feel like it's unfair for you guys to have to deal with someone like me who hasn't been keeping up with the IC posts and doesn't know who half the characters are.

Take care, all of you, and happy roleplaying!

Coruscant Sacked: Aftermath

@Sep Don't feel bad, I am so behind the 8 ball I am a liability at this point. Work is super rough with my supervisor out of action due to a bad injury, I am working 12 day weeks with two days off. This along with five weeks of the flu and Crohns disease flare ups has all but killed my ability or desire to write anything anywhere.

I don't want to drop, but right now, I feel like it's becoming a possibility as life continues to curb stomp me i to oblivion.