Fat Boy Kyle

The Shadows of Aeios

Why is there so little activity? It's making me sad :(

Sanctuary

Wait, if Yugeto's a boy then I've attached the wrong names to the wrong faces xD

Sanctuary

Double post because I'm a selfish bastard who wanted the 200th post >:D

Sanctuary

Vates
Rather than following Mr.Winters down, Vates decided to wait awhile and watched from his roof as his guest left the area. Their little meeting could have went south rather easily for Mr. Winters was a man he knew to have a bad temper, and whilst he chose to cautiously avoid the subject, he thought he might a have a kage. “Edward…” Janus whispered and before Vates could reply a vision ensued:

A large gathering stood around an old bank. Two people, a boy and a girl, whom looked familiar (from other visions maybe?) talked to some guards. Golden Mercenaries. The vision blurred for a moment before coming back and he could see them all heading into a vault. The vision changed then and he found himself watching two men speaking on a rooftop, shaking hands. He watched as one began to suck something out from the other, but he couldn’t really understand what he saw. Before seeing how that played out his vision changed again and he found himself looking into a dark and bare lair, void of life.

“Wow Janus, did you actually just give us a useful vision? I’m impressed.” Vates joked as he shook off the brief dizziness. He knew the bank he saw and now knew where he could find the mercenaries. The men on the rooftop meant little to him, but he’d be sure to avoid either of them if he could. The lair however was somewhere he recognised after thinking upon it… it belonged to Iktomi and he had clearly moved on. “Looks like he’s spinning his webs somewhere else” Vates muttered.

“Then I am I to assume we will be heading elsewhere?” asked Janus, ignoring the barb about the visions.

“Correct. I wouldn’t see Iktomi now anyway. If he’s giving out my location then he can’t care very much about my wellbeing. If he doesn’t care about my wellbeing then he probably doesn’t think I’m any use to him. And if he doesn’t think I’m any use to him then…” Vates furrowed his brow in frustration for a moment, “No. Instead I might as well head to the Golden Mercenaries and see what’s going on first hand. If I think they might stand a chance then I might even be able to help them.”

At that Vates finally left his sanctuary and felt a horrible twinge in his stomach when he realised he might not get a chance to come back. His worries weren’t so much with leaving the comfort of his apartment, but rather at leaving Marley, the boy turned beast he felt indebted to. There was nothing he could do for him now however.

---

Chief marched along the narrow street and he towered over the remnants of his gang. Some had not come back from hunting Vates, but most simply came back empty handed. Those that came back empty handed were not by his side now, although the remains of some filled his belly. His devouring left him even stronger and larger and he now stood at a whooping 7ft6. He wore no shirt, just a layer of wiry black hair and heavy scars. His black cargo pants had been roughly hewn together from multiple sets of trousers; they had to given his monstrous size. His boots were made of metal, crushed and bent into shape by his own powerful hands. “How much further?” he demanded with a strong voice, although it now seemed to have permanently adopted a slight metallic ring to it.

“If those refugees were right then we’re not far off. About another half an hour of walking.” replied Luca, his tattoo-laden second-in-command. Luca paused a few seconds after speaking and looked up at one of the overshadowing buildings. On the roof stood a mysterious woman in sleek black armour with a rifle on her back, watching the gang passively. “Shit, someone’s watching us!” he hissed as he tried to point her out. However by the time he or the others looked back up she had gone.

“Could be the Golden Mercenaries have look-outs. Not that it matters, I’m sure they’ll accept us with open arms…” Chief smirked, “Or else I’ll rip their arms off.” It was hardly the wittiest remark but the gang laughed along anyway, knowing better than to risk piss off their leader. Luca was surprised at the decision to join the Mercs and couldn’t help but wonder if Chief would willingly take orders from someone else. Then again it would only be for a short while, for Chief already made it clear that as soon as they were finished breaking the military that the Mercs would be just as much of an enemy.

The Shadows of Aeios

Calais Cousland
Deliar

Calais’ eyes slowly opened a notch as they began to adjust to the light. He saw a figure standing in an open door but his eyes were not adjusted enough to make out any features. He let his heavy eye lids fall back down for a moment and softly groaned against the groggy feeling he had due to being asleep for so long. “Awake then are we? How are you doing young Calais?” came the voice of an older woman, one who Calais recognised to be Wilson’s wife.

“Feel like I’ve been through a barrel of ale. How long have I been out?” he murmured as he got himself upright in the cot.

“A good while by the sounds of it; its gone midday and Wilson says you’ve been out since late last night.” Victoria replied handing Calais some water, “They were worried for you and brought you back on a fisherman’s cart. You came to consciousness a couple of times and were given water, but soon drifted back into slumber. Wilson said it was probably less to do with the wound and more to do with exhaustion… the wound probably just finished you off as it were.”

Calais wasn’t convinced at first but as he thought back to the events of the last couple of days he realised he had only had a few hours sleep and he knew the cold weather could take its toll. He then quickly began examining his wound. It didn’t look pretty but had clearly been cleaned and treated whilst he slept. “Thank you for treating me Victoria. Where is Wilson now?” he asked with a smile.

“He left not long after dropping you off here. Went to take the fisherman’s cart back and deal with the aftermath of your skirmish. Won’t be back anytime soon I doubt, he said he’ll be dealing with Baldrick too…” she said with an apologetic tone. “You’re welcome to stay here for as long as you need though.”

“Thank you Victoria, but I shan’t burden you.” Calais replied instantly knowing better than to stay alone with another man’s wife, innocent as it may be; others might gossip and jealousies might be ignited. “Although I would be thankful if you could direct me towards a good place to get some ale” he joked light heartedly.

“Ah, you’ll be looking for the Buckle then! Head towards the stables, where you’ll find your horse, then follow the road inwards, if by chance you miss it I’m sure someone can give you later directions.” With that she pulled his belongings out from beneath the cot and carried on about her business. Calais quickly dressed himself in the dark tunic and hooded cape that he kept in his saddlebag, deciding that the rangers cloak was likely to draw too much attention at a local pub. He shoved his damaged cuirass in there too before putting it on and heading out.

wibbly wobbly timey wimey

If you're thinking "Wait, his posts are over a much longer timeframe" then you're thinking to much and should go to bed

The Demon Within

I'll still be here too! A restart might be needed anyhow

Sanctuary

Yay, Zephs back :D Finally we can have some discipline around here!

Also PM me for my skype (as I can't be bothered to pm any of you) :)

Sanctuary

Hey Sage here's something I think you'll like:

Viper away!

The Shadows of Aeios

Second character. Hope he's ok, I don't actually intend to use him an awful lot :)

Bronthir

Name :
Bronthir Cousland, servant of House Rynir
Nicknames :
None
Gender:
Male
Age and birthday :
Born on 1st of Februari in the year of 1253 (making him 49 years old.)
Origin :
Born in Hials, he was brought up by servants after his father died.

Length and build :
Bronthir stands at just under six foot and is of average build.
Weight :
Around 84kg (he’s starting to get a bit chubby with age)
Sexuality :
Straight

---

Appearances :

---

Occupation :
Bronthir is house guard for the Rynirs.

Favorite phrase/saying :
“Ambitions get you killed.”

Favorite Food :
Roasted boar

Favorite Weather and Season :
Bronthir likes the summer, for he likes to laze about on a warm evening. He also prefers women to wear less.

Patron God/Goddess :
Bronthir has taken the family tradition of praying to Irtan. He often finds himself praying for good luck, although he rarely puts himself in a position where he would need it.

---

Personality :
Bronthir is laid back and quiet, he does little to draw attention to himself. He speaks and holds himself with good manners on the job, although he is known for being perhaps more honest than he really should be (especially when speaking to lords). Off duty he can be somewhat one track minded. Bronthir has no ambition in terms of career or power, although he does like any opportunity to earn a bit of extra coin.

History :
It is said that his family were once the heads of their own House and were regarded highly, but that his grandfather placed too much faith in Irtan and lost much of his possessions and wealth through gambling. As a result they faded quickly and were replaced, and that in shame they moved far and took shelter with their friends, the House of Rynir.

Growing up Bronthir didn’t have the greatest of relationships with his father who had grown cruel and bitter after the loss of his inheritance. Indeed his father seemed to take out much of his anger on Bronthir who would often find himself being hidden by kind servants. His father, desperate to claim back what he had lost also begun gambling and lost most of their remaining possessions and as a result found himself in trouble with loan sharks. The Rynirs were not sympathetic however and did little when the loan sharks eventually killed him. Bronthir was then taken in by the servants he had grown close to, something which the old head of house Rynir was happy to allow.

He witnessed many political intrigues and heard many rumours as he grew up, and around the same time he came of age and joined the guard Girvus became the head of House Rynir. As a result, Givrus has been the only lord he has ever properly served. Bronthir would spend his life as a simple house guard, guarding the nobles without complaint. His pay has always been enough to get him by and as a result he has always turned away any offers of promotion. When he was in his twenties he married a young barmaid and had a son, Calais. However his constant cheating caused her to run away with some soldier when Calais was still a toddler. As a result Bronthir raised Calais with the help of other servants until his son was taken in by the rangers.

When not on guard, he can be found either training, gambling with other guards or soldiers, in the whore house, or in the local tavern. He is a man of simple tastes.

Theme song :
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q4egb2gpIg4

---

Clothing and/or armor :
Whilst on duty Bronthir will usually wear a black gambeson and a chainmail vest beneath a tabard, clearly identifying him as a guard. Off duty he will dress accordingly to the weather, which during the current winter months means his gambeson along with a long, worn out fur coat. He has a lined galea helmet too, but will not wear it unless it’s cold or he’s expecting a fight.

Tools and weapons :
=======
Name :
The Cousland Family Sword
Description:
The long sword passed down through his paternal lineage. He doesn’t know much about its origins nor its original name, but he knows at the very least that it once belonged to his Grandfather. He doesn’t have very fond memories of the sword prior to inheriting it, but it is of decent quality and he hopes to one day pass it onto his son.
Appearance :

=======
Name :
Bronze shield
Description :
The large oval shield is one on Bronthirs most expensive possessions, having only been able to spare the money after years of service. The shield consists of bronze plating atop a thick wooden frame, providing a decent level of protection.
Appearance :

(But in much better condition)
=======
Name :
Wineskin
Description :
Bronthir usually carries his old wineskin on his belt, and although he’s smart enough not to drink it on duty he likes to have it there in case there’s a wound that needs cleaning or numbing.
Appearance :
Just a plain old wineskin. He’s been meaning to get it replaced.

---

Skill/Abilities :
Bronthir is a capable fighter, and whilst he might not have quite as much experience as those who fight in the legions he tries to make up for this through his years of training. In a fight he is not above using dirty tactics and will often try to use speed over strength. This is also true for any fist fights he finds himself in.
He can ride a horse although he does not have one of his own.
He can shoot a bow, but with next to no degree of skill.

---

Traits
Bronthir can read well.
He is a very good gambler albeit a rather safe one (he’d never make the same mistakes as his predecessors).
Like is son he has a penchant for stealth.
He can recognise many nobles, although he doubts many would ever recognise him.

I pledge loyalty and honor to the High Ruler of the Empire... but I can't promise not to be a jackass

Taking graphic requests! :D

Please could I request a sig. Bit of an awkward request perhaps, but then again I'm an awkward person! :P

Type: Signature
Text: Vates
Sub-text: "All information has value"
Images: This guys upper body and head but with glowing white smokey eyes.
Theme: Futuristic apocalyptic fantasy demon stuff. Sounds pretty lame when you say it out loud actually, but o'well!
Color Scheme: Light colours, like blue, white, etc (he's a good guy)? To be honest, whatever you think works best.
Size(?): Whatever you think works best