Haha

𝘌𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘈𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘴 - 𝘈𝘳𝘤 𝘐: 𝘏𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘎𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘭

Stonehill District
West Gate
_{Evening - - Raining}

Cast: [@Everyone but Yankee], Farfa, Brustle’s Men
Possible Checks: Culture, Commerce, Karma

---

The two ogre guards stare down at the bumbling-blabbering outsiders who they had never seen before. The caravan itself was quite familiar, often taking people who wished to leave the city elsewhere and not often bringing them back. The only familiar faces were a demon from money, and a scary goblin, both of which usually traveled in and out of the city without so much as a word. But tonight, the fire haired demon brought company along with them.

”Brud, da’ poopsack are these people?” The orc on the left looked first to his brother on the right, and then down to the smaller folk who approached them.

”No clue, Der.” The slightly shorter ogre on right stated, reaching up a finger beneath his helmet to pick his nose and flick a booger down at the dirt.

A whole entourage approached the ogres, and their common tongue was quite limited as it was. Which made the rather eloquently spoken creature dressed in skins, and skulls, and oh that smell. What was that smell?

”Dis ‘un smells like poop.” States Der, cackling happily as he did so.

Brud set his pale yellow eyes on the small hollow-eyed knight who claimed to be a hero, with an energetic declaration. He grinned and cackled in amusement, bending at both knees to get a closer look and sniffing the air to catch the scent of the fae. ”No heroes in these parts, bug.” The more educated ogre stated directly to Lumen, a sneer now worn proudly with eyes aimed straight at him.

”Are da’ pretty human tastier?” Der asked over to Brud, who now scanner each of the new arrivals. There was quite a lot of humanesque figures here at his door. They were lucky.

”Foreman isn’t too fond of bloodshed at the main gate -- but typically yes.” Brud stated, still squatting down to analyze the squad of wayward /heroes/.. The shorter, smarter ogre seemed to take charge with the situation. Der remained on edge, gripping then handle of his weapon and watching cautiously should anything take a turn for the worse.

”You may enter, but the humans have to empty their pockets.” Brud slowly rose back to a stand. He was confident that his extortion would be effective, because if these folk turned to violence they would have to enter through another gate. And that was not a good idea for strangers.

---

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Dante’s Run
Fito’s Ferry
_{Evening - - Raining}

Cast: @Yankee, Yrga, Comoita Men
Possible Checks: Commerce, Karma

---

The orcess huffed and grunted as each of Barb's words met her ears, and her own brown eyes narrowed past youngest Comoita to the tiny fiend that schmoozed more money from him again. “You're not going to make it here with your coinpurse so loose.” her right hand opens and her cheek slaps into the palm, and stared straight to Barbatos with a stiff expression.

“That fat oaf isn't ever busy -- I'm sure there's a patch of wood in his office that bows inward right where his lazy rump sits, I'd bet on it even. But . . .” Yrga bounced her shoulders up into a shrug as interest in such a topic held little interest to her. But Barb did seem very pushy about it, she was even using that tone. A collector such as herself was used to devious types, but Barb did not color himself as such, so she trusted him just a little more than the rest of his ilk.

“I can’t get you in with him, but I do know someone who can.” She grumbles out as her hand slowly drifted behind her and unclasps the satchel fastened right above her ass. The green-skinned digits fiddle around for a few moments before finally she pulls something out and sets it upon the table between herself and Barbatos. Yrga stares down at the roughly hewn iron key, small bite marks present throughout every inch of it.

“That /there/ is a black key. Know what it’s for?” The look of exaggerated glee upon the orc’s face was quite comical, tusks pressing into her lower lip and upturning at the corners. “A door. What door though, maybe Rooster knows —- he is the don’s favorite after all.”

𝘌𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘈𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘴 - 𝘈𝘳𝘤 𝘐: 𝘏𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘎𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘭

Varathira

Varathira

________________________________________ Varathira Usuthra 27 | MtF Transgender | High Elf _______________________________________________ ❏ BIRTHPLACE: The Duchy of Ilynnaes ❏ CASTE: Wanderer, former heiress to a Duchy, willingly abdicated from succession to the chagrin of her parents. ❏ AFFILIATIONS: No relevant formal affiliations. ❏ GOALS: Survive, and feed Zeus his own entrails. Perhaps, someday, grant the common man the ability to destroy Zeus's finest -- an army of otherworldly beings of their own, perhaps? _______________________________________________ TALENTS: ◆ Tenacity: Varathira, as one might expect, is typified by her absurd, supernatural tenacity, allowing her to outlast foes far more powerful and skilled than her by literally refusing to die. It's not unheard of after a battle for her to bleed profusely from open wounds for longer than should be possible, or for infections to spread and threaten to kill yet, yet refusing to do so because of the power her arcana has given her. Her ability to precisely direct it, however, is relatively limited, belying her immense potential. ◆Inspirational: Partly thanks to her tenacity, when she wishes to be, Varathira can inspire others to great feats of courage, through supernatural means or otherwise, though she adamantly refuses to outright compel others into action. She has lived a relatively simple life since the destruction of her home, wandering the world inspiring peasants into powerful acts of defiance through speech and sheer force of will. ◆Culinary Master: Thanks to her time spent traveling the world, Varathira is a master of both cooking and brewing, capable of creating dishes and drinks worth being renowned the world over. She usually carries a good few bottles of her finest brew wherever she travels, bartering it for supplies, or sharing it with travelling companions. ◆Brawler: Though she may have been a master swordswoman had Zeus's invasion never come, in the wake of it, Vara has been forced to resort to a more hard-bitten way of fighting. While this means she lacks much in the way of formal training, she can still be potent in a good fight, in no small part due to her impressive strength, stamina, and agility. ◆Silver-tongued: In no small part due to her love of hedonism, Vara has substantial experience and skill in persuading people to do what she wants, or to believe otherwise blatant lies EQUIPMENT: ◆ Various herbs and spices ◆ Several weeks' worth of rations ◆ Several containers of homemade alcohol, including a handful of large containers of gin-type liquor and whiskey ◆ a set of Travel-sized cooking utensils ◆ A small liquor still ◆ A tent, several lengths of silk rope, and other camping supplies

Appearance ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Personality ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Although occasionally prone to bouts of melancholy, Varathira can generally be described as a fun-loving party animal, enjoying frequent indulgences of recreational drugs and the company of beautiful women, even with the world as devastated as it is. Even in the worst of times, she remains joyous. That's not to say that she's stupid or ignorant of the state the world is in, however. Nothing motivates her more than her desire to tear Zeus limb from limb and cast him and his siblings into oblivion, in fact. Inwardly, she harbors a deep frustration with her inability to free her people, worried that her ludicrous tenacity alone won't be enough to win the day, or that nothing will remain of her people by the time Zeus is felled or an army that can truly hope to destroy him is marshalled. Arcana ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Major: The J U S T I C E Simply put, Varathira's use of her Arcana is blunt, driven mostly by acts of hard-headed defiance, rather than precise trickeries; commanding doors to open or candles to ignite spontaneously, for example. Most notably, she is known to outright refuse to allow serious wounds to kill her, or to inspire her allies toward great feats of courage, though with little actual control or direction. Instead, she provides them the will -- it is up to them to decide how it is used. She is also incredibly resilient to mental manipulation, entering her mind an act akin to digging a tunnel through stone with naught but a pewter spoon, although she is on the way to more precise control over her potential. Minor: N/A

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Combat: •••
Although a capable fighter, Varathira lacks much in the way of formal training, taught how to fight by hard-bitten years on the road rather than by soldiers and generals. She understands little of how war is actually conducted, and about as little of formal fighting techniques; instead, she is best described as a brutal brawler,.effective yet untrained.
Culture: •••••••
Well-traveled and decently well-educated, Varathira has a solid understanding of the world and its people.
Commerce:••
Money, in Varathira's words, is a stupid waste of time. It's a way families like hers control the less fortunate, and she prefers to have as little to do with its proliferation as possible.
Magic:•
Although a potent holder of Justice, Varathira's circumstances have prevented her from truly understanding it, leaving her with an blunt understanding of her Arcana. She's fully willing to learn more, but so far has had barely any time to do so.
Survival:•••
Thanks to her travels, Varathira knows what she needs to survive in the wilds, but lacks knowledge of how to do much more than eke out that incredibly meagre existence.
Karma: ••••••••
Strikingly beautiful, handsome, and practically glowing with joy, Varathira is easy to like at first glance, and is usually friendly enough to play that out. She adores talking with nearly anybody, rarely judges, and spends much of her time in towns flirting and enjoying drink with the local women.

---

@Jeddaven

Another pretty elf for the squad of chaotic idiots.
She is welcome and accepted!

A Thousand Legends ~ Sundered Veil (Currently at capacity.)

This is spicy.

𝘌𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘈𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘴 - 𝘈𝘳𝘤 𝘐: 𝘏𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘎𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘭

^{Bantering At Gates of Goeta, There's Much Butter Things We Could Be Doing?!}

@Spin The Wheel@vietmyke@Abstract Proxy@Katakuri

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"Eh- uh- ah- oh- ee- ay, what?"

By all means, this group was quite a mixed bag. The fire-haired demon scanned his eyes across the chaotic group, looking first to the ones who approached the ogres and opening his mouth to speak.. but indecipherable nonsense escapes his maw. The small white-masked figure was already going on about stories of his heroism, the auteur as the eldest presenting human approached with confidence, and the madman? He honestly seemed to be the least of the Farfa's worries. But already was the thread weave that kept that cart ride so peaceful starting to fray. And then his mind would return to the moment, longing for it wander once again so he could be home.. home was so comfortable.

"The plan, is to get inside. Anyone who doesn't look like a human can walk in so long as we don't piss the ogres off. Just--"

The spoiled half-elf's words snapped one of those fraying threads, and you could visibly see it do so as the demon twitched as the Galahad's second question met the demon's ears. A plastic smile spread across his tanned features, squinted cheshire eyes aimed right over to him as he pointed a clawed fingertip towards the once knight and then in the direction of Lumen, Germaine, and the madman near the gate's entrance. A deep breath was drawn in through his nostrils, swelling up in his chest as if he were about to exhume a loud 'Fus ro dah!' but abstained from blowing up on the man with indecipherable infernal language. And instead released a calm and friendly sentence.

"You are quite eloquent with your words Ser Galahad, might you go and speak with the ogres -- try your hand?"

The cheshire eyes would remain, but ever so slowly the smile across his lips would melt into an indifferent stiff expression as the demon's gaze fell first to the youngest human of the group. Farfa burns a very cautious stare upon her before looking to the elf speaking to her, and then to the violet-skinned elf, none of which were helping the situation very much. Both hands floated up to cover his face and a loud sigh muffled by each palm grumbled through.

"And to think that there are members of Barb's family that were turned away by the Order.. only to send... /this/... "

Farfa's hands drip off his face along with streams of water as the rain develops from a light sprinkle into a more consistent shower. The everburning strands of hair atop his head sizzles and hissed as moisture set into the mane of hair atop his head, and his mascara bled down from his eyes to his cheeks. Then he would look to the moon elf and stated rather ambiguously, "Perhaps he will drown us. But I think it may be a little too early for that, they are said to enjoy a one-sided struggle before sending opposition to the grave."

---

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𝘛𝘏𝘐𝘚 𝘐𝘚 𝘑𝘜𝘚𝘛 𝘈 𝘉𝘜𝘍𝘍𝘌𝘙 𝘗𝘖𝘚𝘛, 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘉𝘌𝘌𝘍𝘠 𝘗𝘖𝘚𝘛 𝘞𝘐𝘓𝘓 𝘉𝘌 𝘚𝘜𝘕𝘋𝘈𝘠

𝘌𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘈𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘴 - 𝘈𝘳𝘤 𝘐: 𝘏𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘎𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘭

Not claimed, feel free to hop aboard while we are still on post 1.

𝘌𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘈𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘴 - 𝘈𝘳𝘤 𝘐: 𝘏𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘎𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘭

@Euphoria

Star is available, you are free to apply.

𝘌𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘈𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘴 - 𝘈𝘳𝘤 𝘐: 𝘏𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘎𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘭

@Jeddaven
There's a ton of other ones available, and if you have any questions feel free to poke me on the forum or discord.

𝘌𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘈𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘴 - 𝘈𝘳𝘤 𝘐: 𝘏𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘎𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘭

@Jeddaven

Magician was already claimed by another player on the interest check, sorry!

𝘌𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘈𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘴 - 𝘈𝘳𝘤 𝘐: 𝘏𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘎𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘭

@Infinite Cosmos

There is room until all of the arcana are taken.

𝘌𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘈𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘴 - 𝘈𝘳𝘤 𝘐: 𝘏𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘎𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘏𝘦𝘭𝘭

Stonehill District
West Gate
_{Evening - - Raining}

Cast: [@Everyone but Yankee], Rooster, Farfa, Brustle’s Men
Possible Checks: Culture, Commerce, Karma

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^{Click-click-click-lick-ick-ck...}

The wooden wheels of the carriage that brought you here trailed down the steep incline of the dirt-laid road and into the distance until ultimately it was out of sight. You weren't sure which of these individuals had traveled to Goeta for the same reason as you, but all hopped out of for cart upon its arrival. A cambion-looking fellow with fiery features and sun-kissed skin turned towards the group, loudly shouting and waving his arms to get their attention.

“Everyone! If you are here to speak with the moguls of Goeta, please follow me! I am Farfa, representative of the Comoita family. We will be making our way through Stonehill until we reach the Bridge on Crossroads! Stay close, don't talk to anyone, and don't buy anything! Thank you.”

The demon-blooded individual spoke in common, knowing that the majority of the likely wouldn't know gutterspeech or infernal. But his words were enthusiastic, and hopeful, even though there was nothing to base that on with these strangers. Farfa’s expression remained bright and warm with a cheery smile stretched from ear to ear. He marched to the door with the assumption that those who he spoken to would follow, not even bothering to glance over his shoulder for confirmation.

“Hold it.” A gruff voice growled out.

As the short sentence met Farfa’s ears, he came to a complete halt. For a moment the demon lingered, as if he was in a brief trance before shaking his head and averting his eyes towards the gate where a burly goblin sat upon a large stone with his legs crossed. Farfa’s eyes widened, looking quickly to the group of new arrivals before returning a softened expression back to that goblin. The demon beamed a toothy grin, sharpened fangs pressing over his lower lip as he greeted the unhappy looking half-squat with green skin.

“Rooster! Of course, you would be the first face I see. How have you faired in the three-no-four moons that I have been off rallying able-bodied men and women?” Farfa flutters his eyelashes.

“Shut ya’ stupid mouf. Where's my coin?” The goblin barked back, spitting brown-black phlegm onto the grass below.

“Eh.. Uh.. Well.. It's going to storm! Look at the grey clouds overhead, and the air is already brimming with energy. Let me buy you some mead in the Bleeding Hollow, we can speak of coin there!” Farfa’s charismatic tome tried to masque his nervousness, but anyone could see through that paper-thin facade.

“Who’s those folks, outsiders? Why they followin’ ya?” Rooster asks out brashly whilst peeling himself off the stone and stepping towards the tall grey-haired individual that absolutely reeked of human. “This’un is a human. Ya’ plan on selling him to Lady Niv?”

“N-ow, now.. They're not here as residents. They've come to work, to speak with some of the higher voices of Goeta, and then to leave.” Farfa instinctively slithered between Germaine and Rooster, for forming a very fickle barrier. But it was something.

Rooster’s eyes them danced from Germaine, to Galahad, lingering on the visibly militant half-blood for a while. But eventually, he would relent into a sigh, deflating and turning his back to the new arrivals and stepping towards the west gate. At the large wooden entrance, two towering grey-skinned ogres stood at each side. They were garbed in chain, and place, clearly meant to withstand combat and armed with a greataxe at each side.

Rooster nodded to each of them, and the reinforced doormen silently nodded back before pressing an plated gauntlet to the wooden surface. The gate opens and the goblin enters, firing the strangers a cautious look painted upon his face. The ogres then quickly slam the gate closed, their face beneath the plated helms staring straight ahead toward the group of hired help. Farfa sighed in relief the moment Rooster disappeared into the city, still though, his dramatic expressions would continue as he looked back towards the ensemble on the verge of tears.

And then the rain began, a slow yet consistent shower from the heavens and a rumbling levin brightly sparking through the dark clouds.

---

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Dante’s Run
Fito’s Ferry
_{Evening - - Raining}

Cast: @Yankee, Yrga, Comoita Men
Possible Checks: Commerce, Karma

---

“Put it on the table!”

”She’s crazy! Get your hand away!”

”She took off his finger, run away!”

The small wooden shack that could hold no more than ten men empties in no time at all. With each heavy footfall of demon, orc, goblin, the dark water shook and ripples traveled outward beneath. The beeswax candles began to sputter as raindrops started to fall with the storm’s arrival, and the tall orcish woman smiled as fond memories came with it.

“Ah, I love the rain.” Yrga chirps out, tugging at the small raven skulls woven into her belt and bouncing on her toes.

Her eyes glance back towards the table where Barbatos sat, a freshly bloodied finger and mismatched piles of coin spread across the wooden surface. The orc’s smile remained, seeming to have only grown giddier having removed a lizardman’s finger from their hand. She spins on the tip of her boots, a strike of lightning illuminated the rather dimly lit watering hole for a moment. It was empty other than her, him, and the imp that worked the bar.

“Should be enough to bring back home, no? I'll even let you keep the finger.” Yrga mused as she slowly took a stride back to the small drinking table, finding a seat on the opposite side to him.

The small winged creature that cleaned the glass cups behind the countertop would sheepishly chime in before Barbatos could offer words back to the orc. ”Don’t forget your tab~.” But the moment his nasally tone muttered out, a hard orcish fist crashed down on the table. Yrga slowly turning her vision towards the tiny demon and branding him with a glare.