Hawlin

|| The Endless Halls | A Dark Fantasy World | Accepting Characters||

Even having a moment to breath barely eased the small sting of adrenaline, Luciel meeting the many moving eyes of the beast that identified itself as 'Unyat' in a plural sense. It was moments after this that the chimera was tilting his head, flicking an ear as he could've sworn the strange growths on top of their new...associate had moved. Tiny eyes and clicking teeth glinting confirmed this, sending a ring of tinnitus through his senses as he took a step back only to find his legs lock up and feel numb.
Luciel came back to his senses, shaking off almost fainting as he propped himself up on an elbow and rubbing his face with a groan, thankful the ground was at least soft enough so as not to inflict any more than a sore arm after landing on a shackle bruise.
'Why couldn't it have just been a normal, empty cave?

The very thought of looking at Unyat made Luciel's skin crawl, but he'd apparently refocused during an explanation by Rose in regards to the scarecrows. Her talk of percents went over his head, as he found it simply a needlessly fancy way of saying 'I'm pretty sure'. Convoluted human-speak, it summed up to be, though he was curious why Rose would name Gish as the group leader.
All of the effort going into explaining witches, naming people as leaders, cheeky winks...subtle implications drew Luciel to conclude Rose was trying quite hard to be friendly with the group, immediately making him skeptical of her intentions. To him, witches were just made-up antagonists in children's books to encourage them to obey out of fear of being eaten by haggard crones. In all honesty, to even call anyone a witch was a notion steeped in misunderstanding. People simply want, and those who use magic to get what they want are called 'witches' by those jealous of their power. The color that goes along with them is as meaningless as the size of their boots, as the toils of human aspirations cannot so simply be summed up with the hue of a color...the very idea was presumptuous and forgettable.

It wasn't hard for Luciel to sum up Rose's explanation as a sort of redirection, though it was tricky to tell from what.
Gish's explanation with William nearby made him slightly curious of the group. Everyone seemed to have either been from this cave or just appeared in it in rapid succession timed apparently just before he blindly walked in. Though he didn't think it would be polite for him to make a joke about it being weird since he found the cave on his own accord, he did have the heart to say, "Vell...I just vahndered in...to zeh cave."
His voice trailed off as he looked away, easing himself into better footing before simply being hauled to his feet by Victor who came sloshing across the shallows of the pond to do so.

Luciel was glad that they could come to a consensus regarding a plan. Worst case was that the cottage was occupied and they'd have the opportunity to ask for directions or maybe if it was okay to camp...well, no...worst case scenario was that the chimera was completely wrong and Gish's fears of being eaten by witches could come to fruition. Still, if push came to shove, Luciel wasn't above murdering the occupants for a chance at rest which he'd sought, hours ago. On that note, the idea of cooking the contents of his game bag sounded as enticing as ever as being marooned in a shipwreck and walking miles through forest and caves was a good way to build up an appetite.

"J-jeh, I suppose" Luciel said, making a sound that may or may not have been the poorest attempt at a forced chuckle as his ears folded back from Victor's touch. A dull click came from the crossbow which had been triggered at an angle which left the bolt knocked on the spent string. With a sigh, he withdrew the bolt, holding it in his teeth while rearming the device. There arguably wasn't any apparent threat...though Luciel couldn't help but notice Unyat out of the corner of his eye, making his skin crawl; you could call it paranoia, simply having his weapon ready was enough to ease his nerves to the point of working the shake out of his steps as he followed Gish to the cottage.

There were so many people to keep an eye on. Unyat needed no explanation, and the feel of their eyes tested Luciel's resolve in every waking moment he was aware of them looming just out of his willingly redirected sight. Two of the three humans were overly friendly, what with Rose trying to be helpful and Victor uncomfortably buddying up to the chimera enough to worry him considerably. Certainly a knight of his supposed standing, capable of owning a suit of armor so extravagant, would rather bother a woman like Rose.

Was he just...into that sort of thing?

Everything was so cringe-worthy, even seeing Victor encourage William to the cabin. This left him only to Gish and William; Gish from Rose and William from Victor, it was a strange feeling to have the slightest sense of compassion...a will to protect.
Luciel shook these feelings, those he concerned himself with were merely there for now until finding the reason or means to take what they could and leave, he was certain of it...and felt foolish for letting his focus slip with so much to lose from supposed 'friends' he was surrounded by.
Biding his time was still the best course of action, letting himself be wheeled off to the cottage.

"Ehn-yeh...V-velcome to zeh group"

The Shifting Sands [Reboot]

@jfmoore
Welcome to RplePlayerGuild. :P

The Shifting Sands [Reboot] [Full]

Ahnci

Name: Ahnciel R. Nyvaal (Heir Black of 'No Sky to Dark')

Race

The Chimeric Aylvs

Back before the sands, a small group of humanoid chimera were made through ritualistic druidic alchemy. The point was to combine otherwise docile animals with humans as to create essentially small dolled-up humans which would serve as servants to nobles rich enough to pay for the components. It began as a means to find a loophole in the ban on slavery which had become popular, since it wasn't illegal to own a 'construct' (an entity created through artificial means).

These creatures were usually something like rabbits, deer, cats and dogs to give them alluring features while still remaining human enough for the tastes of those who sought to own them. They often stand between 4-5ft tall and usually sport features like rabbit ears/tails, antlers, cat eyes and fangs though bits of dog can sometimes be found in their ranks. Time passed and the sands occurred.
By their design, these 'aylvs' (also known as Sand-Rats, Jackals or 'The Lost Boys') had resilience to abuse which went so far as a tolerance to starvation and dehydration, making them suitable to the changing conditions.

These days, the aylvs form a type of bandit monarchy in the sands and are...begrudging...of their previous lot in life. They have a passionate dislike for most other humanoid races (especially humans), though they compose themselves almost like aristocrats from their origin of having etiquette beaten into them. However, the times had changed since then, and many who know of the 'aylves' hear of them mostly through stories of their ruthlessness and cannibalism. Regally as they carry themselves, they're not above taking a bite out of those who once took a bit out of them...so to speak.

"They'll kill you, sew your skin into clothing and eat your flesh...and if you're very very lucky, they'll do it in that order"

In all honesty, Aylvs are mostly fickle and territorial. They mostly prefer to be left alone, though this is aggressively stated by the 'scarecrows' left to denote their hunting ground; poles stuck in the ground from which flayed human skin flaps in the wind as a haunting omen. Likely, even seeing these markers means you're already deep in Jackal lands.

Age: 37 (appears 15-18ish)

Appearance

Boyish and fairly androgynous, Ahnciel stands at 4'6 with a slim, lithe physique. Dark tan complexion. Poking out from under wavy black hair are three-point antlers that that are probably due to be trimmed. Pointed rabbit ears and tail matching their hair save for white areas making up inner ear fuzz and under-tale fluff. Chocolate brown eyes with slit, cat-like pupils. Sharp k9 fangs.

Usually clad in a large section of what was either a tent or a section of the hood of a wagon which he repurposed as a cloak, sun-bleached beige-white. The hood of this cloak is modified with sections for Ahnciel's ears to be covered while standing up and even buttoned slits for their antlers to poke through while holding the hood in place. For the sake of desert winds, his face is covered by goggles mounted to a dust mask. The mask has a design of a jagged grin over the mouth, intimidating details depict broken, decaying teeth and large savage fangs. The goggles have a third lens which flips down over the left eye, adding a level of magnification for long-shots while giving the side of the goggle the look of a bloodshot eye.
Truly, the intent was to come off as imposing as possible.

Aylvic nobility that Ahnciel was, his left ear has three silver studs set wish a chain linking them. The stubs of antlers have polished steel spikes capping them with vine-like designs etched around the base.
With mostly stolen clothing, Ahnci typically wears a white buttoned shirt with folded sleeves at the elbows covered by a faded plaid vest. Over this is a layered leather cuirass crafted surprisingly masterfully from elven hide, indistinguishable from common leather. Also adorned with a twice-looped black-gray-white plaid scarf. Its significance is unknown.
Wears fairly meager shorts as well as mid-thigh socks with garters running up the shorts legs. Wears Knee-high boots with the heels broken off.

Inspiration

Reason for joining the Outcasts: Due to a shift in management through uprising against Ahnci's father, he was driven out of his tribe with meager supplies in order to make it far enough to be found. Begrudgingly found new purpose with those who took him in, still true to his ways.

Skills

Marksmanship - Through occupation as an Aylvic hunter, Ahnciel is talented with crossbows and most other projectile weaponry. Ears to sense sound and wind currents, eyes to see in minimal light, a nose with the scent of blood on the mind, little gets past an Aylvic hunter in their element.

Keen - Understanding the anatomy of most humanoid's physiology through practiced butchering, picking out weaknesses and vital points comes with ease. A strike from Ahnciel is likely to be aimed for such points with efficient results. Alternatively, picking out projectiles or stitching wounds comes with the territory, allowing Ahnci to be fairly reliable at first aid...assuming he cares for the individual's life.

Nimble - Basic anatomy grants Ahnci that much of a dexterous edge, mostly in the way of dodging and jumping as long as the ground hes on is solid enough for his feet to dig in. The soles of his boots help to meet the difference, but only so much.

Survivalist - From knowing how to milk a cactus to hunting, prepping and cooking and even to building rudimentary sand-ovens, Ahnciel spent his life in the desert in a state some would call 'savage'. Those who could not provide for themselves were not worth keeping. Nobility hasn't been spared, and his eloquent proficiency in the culinary arts is certainly worth being noted...assuming he's willing to share.

Composed - As uncouth as Ahnci is at heart, he comes off as almost inappropriately polite and linguistic...if only to tell someone in as many words as possibly how lovely their teeth would be as a necklace rather than flapping about saying things he doesn't care about. With this comes a strange proficiency with string instruments; a steady hand and sensitive hearing, from voices on the wind to a subtle ripple in a string, this bandit's taste for music is almost as discerning as their eye for loot.

Weaknesses

Weak - 4.5ft tall, without an opportunity to 'ankle-bite', Ahnciel suffers in hand-to-hand combat with his basic understanding of swordplay ("Stick them with the pointy end") and lack of physical strength. This isn't to say he couldn't defend himself in close quarters, but that hes far better sticking to range. Considering physical stature, hes not going to be wrestling a box of cereal off the top shelf any time in his life without a stool to stand on.

Untrusting/Untrustworthy - Simply based on basic resemblances to Humans and elves, most other humanoid races are likely to meet Ahnci's ire. Because of his origins and disposition, Ahnciel is more likely to rob you than come back with extra provisions while on watch.

Inventory

An array of small knives - Serrated, smooth blades, hooked, sharpeners and weighted. A small bandolier of sheathed knives contains the intimidating cooking armaments that many would mistake as torture devices. Arguably so, if you're on their receiving end, as Ahnci knows how to use each one of them with brutal efficiency.
Dinner will be lean...

Hex and Cross - Supposedly, 'Cross' is a crossbow with arms forged from the melted holy symbols of priests that wandered into Aylvic hunting grounds. It is a family heirloom which Ahnciel fled with. Vainly, he hopes it carries the strength of ancestors and the luck of their successful hunts. The stock is filed from ebony likely found by Aylvic Dwellers specifically for such purposes. Though it may be a simple crossbow, it is masterwork in its creation and one of a kind.
'Hex' is the short blade forged from the leftover material from making 'Cross'. Made from Silver alloy, it serves poorly against armor, though its ritualistic intent is apparent as its handle is fit with a sharpening block slid into the back for finely honing the serrated edges. Each cut comes out jagged like a swipe from a keen saw, certain to cause intense bleeding from an otherwise messy wound.

Game bag - Mostly intended for small game such as scorpions and lizards, side pouches hold flint&steel as well as a tapping kit and two canteens for water as well as a third which seems already filled (a messy mix of alcohol found on tresspassers. It smells of something between red wine and heavily spiced rum. The smell alone is enough to make the stomach churn, though its surprisingly sweet...if not blindingly strong)

Tent poles - The folded mess that Ahnciel calls a cloak is designed to be undone and propped up as a tent lavishly bigger than he needs as well as enough to fold under himself like a cocoon. Two telescoping poles are used to accomplish this and the tent can hold three small humanoids or a bit more than one standard-sized one...needless to say, Ahnci prefers to keep this luxury to himself.

Motto/Catchphrase: "Like sands in zee hourglass, zeez ah zeh days ouf our lives..."

The Shifting Sands [Reboot]

So, are we posting profiles here?
Ooor maybe we should have them approved via PM?

|| The Endless Halls | A Dark Fantasy World | Accepting Characters||

@Sophrus
Its k. I could've been more patient.

|| The Endless Halls | A Dark Fantasy World | Accepting Characters||

So, who're we waiting for?

Edit: Ever wake up at 8am and think it's 8pm?
~_~

The Shifting Sands [Reboot]

Well, to start with open questions, I was curious about magic in the world.
Since its post apocalyptic, 'steam punk' may be tricky to do what in the way of projectile armaments. Just a consideration, but it makes me wonder about the state of technology in this setting. Like, civilization has been reduced to medieval standards while the cities down below hold troves of lost knowledge as well as supplies/the means to acquire supplies? (Underground lakes and abandoned greenhouses (that sorta thing))

Lastly, races, I've been working on variations of a race et nauseum and was curious about the freedom of playing a non-standard-fantasy race. I'll probably end up PMing you about it just so I don't make a fool of myself with long explanations for all eyes to see.
>_<;

The Shifting Sands [Reboot]

Not a bad idea, the fantasy/steampunk fits pretty nicely in the setting.
Interested, though I may have questions about lore and races.

|| The Endless Halls | A Dark Fantasy World | Accepting Characters||

Introductions being exchanged, Luciel flinched as Gish touched him before accepting being helped to his feet with a small 'szank you'. The backstory behind this William individual seemed harmlessly standard. Strange as it was for people to simply wake up in a cave without knowing why or how, the chimera was at least glad that the boy didn't seem dangerous...or at least not nearly as dangerous as Victor, who had followed them.
With Victor there, as dark as the vibes he radiated with were, Luciel eased himself down from his aggressive stance. "William..." he softly chirped in a greeting tone and a nod of his head, squeezing water from his cloak with a free hand. The idea of allying with yet another human still bothered them, regardless of their stature, but it was only polite to follow along with formalities. "Ehn I am Luciel" he offered, shooting an annoyed look at Victor for teasing them about tripping over William. To be fair, he had tripped over Gish, but it didn't matter that much since Luciel imagined giving Victor an inch would only lead to further teasing.

"Vee should not linger, zehr iz a foulness to zeis place" Luciel mused to no one in particular, having not lost sight of the reason for this chance meeting. William's motion of inspecting his clothes reminded the chimera of his own hood which he pulled over his head as well.
It was oddly comical in Luciel's mind how William assured them he was not a monster as there were many sharp words they could sling to discredit the claim, but now wasn't the time to be slinging racist remarks. Instead, he distracted himself with topping off a waterskin in the pond since it didn't seem to have any poisonous affect on the newcomer.
Again his thoughts turned to the cottage, wondering if there were locks on any of the doors for the sake of keeping the strange scarecrows and whatever they had just seen safely separated from the group while they collected themselves. A cave, it may be, but the feeling of being outside and exposed to light was beginning to wear on Luciel's nerves in a slightly agoraphobic sense.

|| The Endless Halls | A Dark Fantasy World | Accepting Characters||

Honestly, Luciel had been frozen in his hesitation, waiting for a move and not even noticing Gish had left before feeling the impact of the flute against his back. It was as good enough of an incentive to spring back to life, kicking his feet up out of Victor's grasp to flip backwards onto his feet. While he had intended on using Victor as cover from whatever threat that was now unseen, he reached for the flute before Gish dashed to retrieve it before running off into the tall grass.
It didn't take much to get the hint as he'd much rather be anywhere else than in the possible range of attention of the ghastly creature. Luciel wasn't opposed to sacrificing either Rose or the knight, Victor, in the hope of escape. Frankly, he trusted the smaller humanoid creature 'Gish' far more than either of the other humans, going so far as to whisper the tiny prayer to fade into the meek shade of the brush. Granted, the minor illusion had little effect in the rays of light cast down from the hole in the cave ceiling, but it made him feel that much better as he chased Gish.

Crossbow still in hand and armed, he dared to look back long enough to at least attempt to assess the situation. However, the motion drew his attention away from the obstacle which the lady had ran into, causing him to also stumble over the sprawled bodies and collapse in the shallow water. This was enough, in his panic, to send him a bit over the edge, thrashing and clawing his way the mere few feet onto dry land.
Clinging to a fistful of tall grass, he rolled onto his back with the weapon propped on a knee and aiming at the third figure which had impeded their escape.
"Th-who...?" he hissed, confused with fingers tensing on the trigger while aimed at William, hesitantly directing the armament back where they came while curiously listening to the human. An ear tilted to the side, perplexed how there could be another person living in such a place...though maybe they owned the cabin? It would certainly make the task of finding refuge easier if they could simply ask those it belonged to, or take it by force.

Their fearful claims that they didn't taste good put the chimera at odds, curious what they had experienced to the point where they would assume the two were here to eat him. "Vh-vhat are you doink here?" he quickly asked in a hushed tone, trying not to spook the person by making sure they weren't aiming directly at him. "...E-ehn who...ehrm" he tried to begin, figuring it may not be in the best interest of the situation to be too demanding. Regardless, based on the fragment of the question, Luciel assumed the young human got the jist of his question.