Dusty

Warhammer Fantasy: The Guild of Esteemed Sellswords - An adventure in the Warhammer Fantasy world!

“I am pleased to make your acquaintance monsieur Volker. Indeed Il was a blessing of zee lady to find zee Guild of Esteemed Sellswords, or at least zer flyer, weeh pointed moi in zis direction.” Here Frans Vou flattened out the slip of parchment upon which the Guild’s name, and the location of the Limping Nag tavern were emblazoned in bold colors. Folding his hands Frans Vou leaned ever so slightly to the left in order to look past Volker’s bulk and gaze upon the man working the bar, the apparent Ludolf Bohn who’d been so kindly indicated. Frans Vou couldn’t help but frown at this realization, casting a worried glimpse deep into Volker’s brown eyes trying to catch some hint of deceit. Surely a great warrior, an honored leader of a proper mercenary guild wouldn’t lower himself to the work of commoners, cleaning dwarf spit from tumblers. Frans Vou expected Ludolf Bohn to be a rough man, but certainly not a humbly working one. Still the young knight detected no sign of malicious intent in the aging warrior’s gaze, seeing only honest intention and curiosity on Volker’s face.

Biting his lower lip Frans Vou gave a quick shake of his head, clearing away his thoughts of mistrust. “No, ah I am not looking for work, in so much as seeking glory and adventure and more importantly a way to find it. I ‘ave no need for gold, zough I would not refuse it, haha. I am wei zey call a knight Errant of Bretonnia. My quest led moi ‘ere, not zee typical rout of an Errant knight, but I was not traditional in my leaving home neizer.”

At that moment a small commotion was occurring between the elf and a couple dwarves. Frans Vou cast a baleful look in their direction, a slightly irritated tone in his voice as he addressed Volker. “Are zee old folk always like zat? Zey are not so common in zee place w’ere from I ‘ail from. Nay, I cannot say I ‘ave seen zem interact before.”

Animorphs: The Reckoning

@SM64Dude When I was thinking up a character for this RP it struck me that the original animorphs all knew each other fairly well, Rachel and Jake were even related, so I was thinking for the sake of continuity our characters should all know each other, at least on a casual basis to explain why they were all at the same place whenever thesuperimportantandalitewhosenameIforget and Visser Three show up and they get the power to morph.

Anyway it might be a good idea to work out in the OOC the different relationships all the characters have with each other. Just my two cents.

Animorphs: The Reckoning

Present @SM64Dude, I'll be working on a sheet here today or soonish.

Miraculous America

We might have to eventually if @Burido doesn't post, but in the meantime we can just battle the zombiefied kids for a little while.

Animorphs RP

You seemed to have filled out your quota for players, but I am interested in joining, so if there's space I'll be throwing my hat into the ring.

Warhammer Fantasy: The Guild of Esteemed Sellswords - An adventure in the Warhammer Fantasy world!

@Dusty I actually don't think Monty Python could have done any better with the French accent...I had a hearty chortle indeed.

@Jbcool

Haha, thanks.

Warhammer Fantasy: The Guild of Esteemed Sellswords - An adventure in the Warhammer Fantasy world!

Frans Vou reined in his horse, regarding the twilit establishment before him. Removing a crumpled piece of parchment the young knight confirmed with a few quick sweeps of his eyes that he had indeed arrived at the proper destination after riding on the road for the better part of a week, traveling the highways between Bretonnia and the Empire through both mountain pass and thick woodland. It’d been an easy trip, thankfully void of inclement weather or any other issues to waylay a traveler. Shaking the dust of the road from his cloak and tunic Frans Vou dismounted his sturdy black steed bidding his page Adrian to take the reins, and providing both coin and instructions to ensure the proud beast was well cared for in the tavern’s stables. The stallion was his father’s favorite horse, taken specifically to spite his father Vincent, the honored patriarch of Bluspereaux family house. Indeed the animal had been of such immense value Frans Vou’s father had sent a company of ten yeomen to retrieve it, but their efforts were for naught when Frans Vou drew steel and invited them to take the horse out from under him. They’d trailed him for the next two nights until he passed into Imperial lands where they were forced to split off, for they were an unwelcome cohort to enter the province, armed and bearing colors as they were. Presumably they’d were being lambasted back at the Bluspereaux manor at this very moment, and the thought of his father’s angry face, beet red as he screamed obscenities upon the unsuccessful yeomen brought fresh energy to Frans Vou’s sore riding legs.

Straightening his sword and belt the young, bold Bretonnian strode through the foreign tavern’s door in high confidence, expecting to be a sight to be beheld amongst the presumed crowd of country folk and ragged sellswords. After all he’d stayed at three other Imperial taverns before the Limping Nag, and had no reason to expect this one to be any different. And oh folly by the Lady’s blessing was he mistaken.

The first sight to see, that any man entering should spot immediately upon entering, was the man dressed in a white lion’s pelt and fine armor. Upon closer inspection came the realization that it wasn’t a man at all but an elf. Frans Vou, in all his wildest dreams would never had expected one such as an elfish to be welcome in the company of rugged mercenaries. Granted his own life decisions having led one such as himself to ride with them, but that was one thing, the elf was another. Then Frans Vou's astonished blue eyes were drawn to the greatsword mounted proudly behind the bar, and following that was the amusing sight of an ancient Dawi warrior seated upon a stool. Releasing a low whistle Frans Vou swept his blonde hair from his face, suddenly unsure of whom to request an audience with. He’d expected that the toughest, richest, oldest and boldest man would be the one to speak with, but as it turned out that would be a much more difficult distinction to make than he’d originally thought.

After casting about the crowd for a good while Frans Vou spotted a worthy candidate to presume governance and strode over, sitting across from Meinhardt Volker by mere chance. “Monsieur, ye appear as a man of experience, if I may intrude for a moment of ou’s time?” Frans Vou opened the conversation, his thick High Bretonnian accent giving away his noble stature far better than his road dusted fine clothing or golden spurs ever could. “I am Francois Vou Bluspereaux, but please disregard such frivolous titling. I prefer Frans Vou. And I am in search zee Guild of Esteemed Sellswords. I ‘ave been made aware zey congregate wiven zis establishment on occasion. I speak to ou, for ye ‘ave zee look of ah, zat type of person, zat is whom is involved wee mercenaries. No?”

Life After- A Sorta Nation Prepping RP

Yeah, Montana might not be the best idea in the event of a Yellowstone eruption.

Multi-Para RP - The Second Rat

Very interesting, I was worried for awhile that nothing would come of this RP so thanks for keeping it going.

Wrath of Darkness

27 meters! My lord that’s a big bug!