Fetzen

The Fight for Valeroma

Merry Christmas to everyone as well! :)

I should be able to get my first post up soon.

Ephae moved to casual

I am fiddling with character ideas in my head, but because I'm a weirdo I have trouble deciding on anything :)

The Fight for Valeroma

Valaryon

Valaryon

Age: 53
Gender: Male
Race: Elf of the dark elven variety


Appearance:
Valaryon's probably most notable feature is his long, white hair that makes him look like an elderly person if one doesn't know better about its cause. Once turning one's eyes away from that and onto his face one will inevitably notice that his skin is far away from the pale kind of his ordinary elven brothers, but clearly exhibits the gray-ish taint that comes with his magic practice. It does not show any imperfections such as scars yet though. Valaryon's eyes look normal just like his pointy ears, but he can turn the former into striking spots of dimly glowing orbs if he wants to.

Valaryon's exceptionally tall with just being shy of seven feet and six inches. He does not look extremely broad at all, but once he takes off his gear a well developed layer of muscle will reveal itself still. He comes in at a staggering weight, but that might also be the reason why he doesn't like to talk about it.

Valaryon's gear makes a rather improvised impression: The shield is slightly buckled, the chainmail appears to have been assembled by merging several smaller pieces into a larger one and the thick leather underneath it has obviously been in need of patching more than once.


Personality:
Valaryon has been living a rather secluded life for most of his time so far and that has clearly left his traces. He's a rather obvious introvert that prefers remaining calm and silent more often than he dares to raise his voice. It would be unfair to consider him to be an evil person per se, but it's safe to say that he can be a bit reckless when it's about achieving goals. Speaking of friendship... that is rather hard to obtain in his case, but whoever does can count on him as a very loyal companion in the end. He's intelligent, but prefers staying away from arrogance and too much egoism. One can have a personal plan without bragging about it.


Strengths:

• Dangerous: Valaryon's offensive and defensive capabilities can be considered significant. He's no master with the sword, but has a lot of self-taught experience with it. What makes him probably more troublesome than that for his foes is the fact that he can hurl a broad variety of spells at them that can nag at their very soul, make armor corrode and rations rot at visible speed or cause rapid illness. Given his rather heavy armor, he is by far not entirely defenseless against physical attacks either.
• Healer: Dark magic is not only a source of death, decay and curses, but also holds some keys to counteracting those. The big issue is however that the methods are less than usual, like, for example, instead of applying a bandage and administering a complicated potion, you can also just 'borrow' some life of a more healthy volunteer in order to save someone else's life, subsequently allowing both to recover.
• Beast: You thought elves are fragile and can't win a bar fight ? In Valaryon's case you might have to think twice...

Weaknesses:

• Reviled: At least in the presence of any elves, Valaryon is pretty much unable to use his magic without triggering quite a lot of negative attention. Elves and those sharing at least some of their ideals might at least frown upon recognizing his unusually dark skin, suspecting he might be a practitioner of the dark arts.
• Hulking: It is said that most elves are lithe and fast, but he is quite the opposite. Stealth, agility and speed are clearly not his forte and you don't want him standing on that rickety bridge for too long, probably.
• Poor: An unsteady income has been a problem for many years. Cheap or stolen has to be good enough more often than not.
• Slow magic: The kind of magic Valaryon does is rather one of preparation and patience. While it is certainly powerful, it's not suited for fast offensive moves and therefore much less useful against small, fast enemies than it is against larger, more sturdy targets.

Brief bio:
For the first two decades or so it seemed pretty much as if Valaryon's life would turn out to have been set in stone from the very beginning. His parents were caring, but they were also demanding. From him, they demanded that he would keep up the family's pride and heritage of being scholars well reknown throughout elven lands. He was to become a mage, but not for actually doing things out in the field as most others or for entertaining people as some others, but for the sake of bookshelves and theoretical development.

That was not what Valaryon was in the mood for, however. He could see the importance that someone just had to do the job he was pushed to go for, but he could not see why it had to be him. Still he agreed to join the academy and begin studies -- not because he liked the prospects, but because he was afraid of the consequences that were bound to confront him if he didn't. That was only as long as he had not met them yet though. 'Them' as they indeed called themselves as sort of a code name was a an organization within the academy, a student's association that preferred working in the secret. The academy was perfect the perfect place for them as any other institution that focused more on practical applications would not keep around so many dirty secrets in locked away libraries elven society would frown upon if put to any actual use.

The talk was about necromancy and what elves call 'dark magic' in general. Nobody of 'them' actually was eager to use it solely for hurting people, but any discovery of their practitioning, no matter the purpose, would have put them on the priority list for being expelled. Upon seeing what they could do during a clandestine rendezvous though, he joined them anyway. It was an escape route for his otherwise pretty dreary situation.

Things went well both with his official studies and with is inofficial ones, but only as long as the latter remained undiscovered. A schoolboy mistake, a brief moment of not covering his altered skin properly with a firm layer of make-up ended both careers all at once. 'Them' of course couldn't do anything to help him officially, nor could they prevent his family or other friends from breaking bonds with him. He received some support during his transition -- or rather descent -- into dark elven society, but after that he was to help himself and somehow make a living again.

Valaryon did. As of now he has become sort of a mercenary and self-made adventurer suffering from an unstable income, but enjoying how his horizons widen as he gets to know more and more parts of the world.


Other:
Nothing so far.

Blades of the Blood Coast

C'mon people,

you can't leave poor Faeril and Lorcan to their own devices! That is bound to result in a dwarleigh runaway explosion sooner or later. This is so much worse than that petty thermonuclear stuff! Do you really want that to happen and let the whole world's structural integrity fall victim to such an unnecessary doomsday event ?

We need additional coolant more posts or she's gonna blow!

Blades of the Blood Coast

Lorcan had had to cough several times during their descent towards the place they were now, and he kept having some trouble with the air around him even as Raddek entered the mysterious business. The dust... there just was so much of it around here where not even the crowd's steady footsteps prevented it from settling down. Also the steady flow of warm air from below kept coming, trapping the vile mixture of sweat, flagrances and shit along with itself just right under roof where the Skayleigh's nostrils were. He just was way too tall for this place!

Had there been a small bit of hesitation in Raddek's words before the man had actually dared to call the individual he was dealing with his 'friend' ? Yes, of course Raddek had... and this being not a good sign was beyond obvious. It burned itself into Lorcan's mind like a ray of sunlight did into parchment if one placed the wrong piece of glass in the wrong place in front of it. These linen walls could not even give any comfort as one turned one's back towards them for they were obviously not a real barrier at all. He wanted to get out of here -- or at least keep his mind busy enough with something else so he would no longer have to think about their situation.

"If you can truly see the future, then you should be able to answer that question you just asked for yourself. Only those who are new to begin with can stop being new in the future, right ?" Lorcan gave the man a grin before launching a copper common towards his belly region. "Tell me, but don't tell me the obvious." Or, in other words, anything like 'You will be in horrible trouble and the so called friend of your friend here will turn out to be the mother of all screwjobs' would not count as a real fortune telling, but more like... a sincere and very well reasoned extrapolation of the current situation.

Lorcan crossed the street and, by standing in front of the fortune teller, forced the crowd moving on it to go around him. The one good thing of being a Skayleigh around here was that he just was a lot bigger and heavier than those around him.

Rolls

Perception: 6

Blades of the Blood Coast

When Faeril talks about having failed to be quiet and stealthy...

He is overlooking something important!

Lorcan did not even try to be quiet in the first place. In fact, with the guards and all, he tried to be the very opposite. So from that point of view he actually performed quite well and judging him otherwise is very unfair

The Five Senses

Týfurkh

"As you might now, I have spent my jade candle on the sightless we encountered at the portcullis. So, as of now, it seems that we only have two of them left overall." The giant didn't say it, but his tone expressed for him that he didn't like the prospect. One sightless had been difficult enough to deal with, but how many high ranking cultists and associates would they encounter once it became obvious that their so called 'seed' was under direct attack ?

And then there were all those subtle changes to the Kharu-Natjer and their infrastructure. All jade candles but the very minimum amount necessary for basic illumination appeared to have been removed from the tunnels. Did they expect the upcoming battle to be lost and were already evacuating themselves and their equipment, or were they making things more difficult for another, maybe even sinister reason ? The latter thought really didn't go well with Týfurkh's mood, but every time his eyes darted towards their Kharu-Natjer guides, it only intensified. They looked different than the other ones. Were they real or were they fakes ? Or were they real, but their true intentions were different from what they had always pretended and now the facade started to crumble ?

He really would have liked to address this issue openly and have a talk with the others about it, but doing so now would end in a bit of a diplomatic disaster in the best case and some wild, unexpected reaction from their guides in the worst. All Týfurkh felt he could do right now was to feel better because of the urgently needed resupplies he had been able to obtain: A refilled quiver of big bolts and, maybe more important, finally something for a proper meleé that was more than just falling back to bare fists and improsived weaponry: a sword. A pretty big, two-handed sword instead. Dangling from Týfurkh's belt however it looked more like a toy he could easy use with one hand. It felt very good still.

"Let's say I'm holding up fine given the circumstances, Chres. I'm feeling a little tired, but I guess there's enough stamina left in me to participate in any celebration that might take place once this is over. And you ?"

The Fight for Valeroma

Here's my application. I am sorry for taking longer than I had expected:

Valaryon

Valaryon

Age: 53
Gender: Male
Race: Elf of the dark elven variety


Appearance:
Valaryon's probably most notable feature is his long, white hair that makes him look like an elderly person if one doesn't know better about its cause. Once turning one's eyes away from that and onto his face one will inevitably notice that his skin is far away from the pale kind of his ordinary elven brothers, but clearly exhibits the gray-ish taint that comes with his magic practice. It does not show any imperfections such as scars yet though. Valaryon's eyes look normal just like his pointy ears, but he can turn the former into striking spots of dimly glowing orbs if he wants to.

Valaryon's exceptionally tall with just being shy of seven feet and four inches. He does not look extremely broad at all, but once he takes off his gear a well developed layer of muscle will reveal itself still. He comes in at a staggering weight, but that might also be the reason why he doesn't like to talk about it.

Valaryon's gear makes a rather improvised impression: The shield is slightly buckled, the chainmail appears to have been assembled by merging several smaller pieces into a larger one and the thick leather underneath it has obviously been in need of patching more than once.


Personality:
Valaryon has been living a rather secluded life for most of his time so far and that has clearly left his traces. He's a rather obvious introvert that prefers remaining calm and silent more often than he dares to raise his voice. It would be unfair to consider him to be an evil person per se, but it's safe to say that he can be a bit reckless when it's about achieving goals. Speaking of friendship... that is rather hard to obtain in his case, but whoever does can count on him as a very loyal companion in the end. He's intelligent, but prefers staying away from arrogance and too much egoism. One can have a personal plan without bragging about it.


Strengths:

• Dangerous: Valaryon's offensive and defensive capabilities can be considered significant. He's no master with the sword, but has a lot of self-taught experience with it. What makes him probably more troublesome than that for his foes is the fact that he can hurl a broad variety of spells at them that can nag at their very soul, make armor corrode and rations rot at visible speed or cause rapid illness. Given his rather heavy armor, he is by far not entirely defenseless against physical attacks either.
• Healer: Dark magic is not only a source of death, decay and curses, but also holds some keys to counteracting those. The big issue is however that the methods are less than usual, like, for example, instead of applying a bandage and administering a complicated potion, you can also just 'borrow' some life of a more healthy volunteer in order to save someone else's life, subsequently allowing both to recover.
• Beast: You thought elves are fragile and can't win a bar fight ? In Valaryon's case you might have to think twice...

Weaknesses:

• Reviled: At least in the presence of any elves, Valaryon is pretty much unable to use his magic without triggering quite a lot of negative attention. Elves and those sharing at least some of their ideals might at least frown upon recognizing his unusually dark skin, suspecting he might be a practitioner of the dark arts.
• Hulking: It is said that most elves are lithe and fast, but he is quite the opposite. Stealth, agility and speed are clearly not his forte and you don't want him standing on that rickety bridge for too long, probably.
• Poor: An unsteady income has been a problem for many years. Cheap or stolen has to be good enough more often than not.

Brief bio:
For the first two decades or so it seemed pretty much as if Valaryon's life would turn out to have been set in stone from the very beginning. His parents were caring, but they were also demanding. From him, they demanded that he would keep up the family's pride and heritage of being scholars well reknown throughout elven lands. He was to become a mage, but not for actually doing things out in the field as most others or for entertaining people as some others, but for the sake of bookshelves and theoretical development.

That was not what Valaryon was in the mood for, however. He could see the importance that someone just had to do the job he was pushed to go for, but he could not see why it had to be him. Still he agreed to join the academy and begin studies -- not because he liked the prospects, but because he was afraid of the consequences that were bound to confront him if he didn't. That was only as long as he had not met them yet though. 'Them' as they indeed called themselves as sort of a code name was a an organization within the academy, a student's association that preferred working in the secret. The academy was perfect the perfect place for them as any other institution that focused more on practical applications would not keep around so many dirty secrets in locked away libraries elven society would frown upon if put to any actual use.

The talk was about necromancy and what elves call 'dark magic' in general. Nobody of 'them' actually was eager to use it solely for hurting people, but any discovery of their practitioning, no matter the purpose, would have put them on the priority list for being expelled. Upon seeing what they could do during a clandestine rendezvous though, he joined them anyway. It was an escape route for his otherwise pretty dreary situation.

Things went well both with his official studies and with is inofficial ones, but only as long as the latter remained undiscovered. A schoolboy mistake, a brief moment of not covering his altered skin properly with a firm layer of make-up ended both careers all at once. 'Them' of course couldn't do anything to help him officially, nor could they prevent his family or other friends from breaking bonds with him. He received some support during his transition -- or rather descent -- into dark elven society, but after that he was to help himself and somehow make a living again.

Valaryon did. As of now he has become sort of a mercenary and self-made adventurer suffering from an unstable income, but enjoying how his horizons widen as he gets to know more and more parts of the world.


Other:
Nothing so far.

The Fight for Valeroma

- accidentally posted in the wrong thread -

Blades of the Blood Coast

Lorcan's sleep had not gone exactly well, but to the defense of the unknown... thing... that had made its way into the tavern -- after or before slaughtering a path through the city, that was perhaps --, he would not have slept well even without it. There just were too many discomforting issues at hand such as that the city had started to smell like corruption from the very first contact onwards. A settlement's guards were supposed to be the last individuals to fall victim to egoism and self-justice, but it seemed to have happened here on a scale so large that they, an unwary bunch of travelers with no page in the book of history, could run into it right away.

Speaking of missing pages, the next biggie clearly was the goddamn lack of information. Yes, having a bed for the night and a warm meal to fill one's stomach was a nice thing absolutely, but at what price ? Right: being dragged into some shady underground business with no explanation given why exactly they had to do a job that was urgent. Shouldn't there have been some other poor man to do it way before their arrival ? It smelled like rotten fish, but he didn't even know enough to decide whether he could blame Raddek and his so called friends to play a foul game or if they were, in fact, as 'innocent' as the rest of the party.

Lorcan skipped past the dead body in the streets without spending much attention on it. If things went bad this day, they'd cause enough of a bloodsheet them bloody selves this day. No need to challenge one's urge to vomit right in the morning already... Having listened to Reyvadin's speech with his mighty arms crossed in front of his breast, the Skayleigh set on to say something himself:

"I have to concur with him. Accessing the goods we need ourselves seems to be preferable to dealing with yet another unknown. All we know about any potential smuggler is that he or she will want to have their share of the deal, making things more expensive for us. Also hiring a smuggler is no guarantee that we won't end up having to fight. If we succeed stealing that stuff ourselves undetected...". And now his tone darkened before continuing: "...or at least without living witnesses left behind, nobody will know who and where we are. If we deal with a smuggler, at least one person will."