IcePezz

Estermere- A Medieval Fantasy Roleplay (Reboot)

Of course there is, we just hibernate :p under work

Estermere- A Medieval Fantasy Roleplay (Reboot)

I always liked this rp, and I believe the people that were a part of it were very talented writers. Whi checking has become a bit ... well, I've had trouble the past few weeks getting interested in an rp. So if we can revive this rp, that would just be all types of amazballs :)

Anyone up for a case of the Feels?

I've often come up with characters that are a little broken inside. Looking for that special someone or family to be a part of. And of course I'm always down for something that just tugs at the heart strings. Even if I can't lend any ideas to the plot, I'd love to be a part of it if that's alright.

The Seer [A Traveling Roleplay] (IC Now open!)

We're still here ... I think :p

Strangeland | Legends Never Die

Sorry guys, I'm not going to continue with this rp. Thank you for the opportunity. I hope everyone has fun with this :)

A future far divided

This is really interesting. While I tend to stay in the fantasy realm of rp, I think I'll give this a try.

Name: Sophia Colt
Age: 27
Profession: Career Waitress/Struggling Actress
Description: 5'7" 145lbs. She has short, light brown hair which is usually styled, a front piece pinned neatly to the side. The front is longer, coming down to her collar bone, where as the back would align with her chin. During interviews and auditions, shes named her eyes as her best feature, a set of crystal green gems stand out on her tan skin. She certainly hasn't followed the 'actors diet', though she does try to keep her curves in check with regular workouts.

Strangeland | Legends Never Die

Isabeau blinked a few times, regaining her focus. She had slipped into a daze ... or at least she thought. Though it had felt like an eternity since her body was put into the ground. Everything after that was a blur, until now. How long have I been out? she thought. A quick turn of her head to assess her location had her doubled over in pain. Events flashed through her mind, memories, her body ached all over as she began to relive what had happened that last night.

Flashback

She had been quietly working to uncover a traitor within their organization. Their numbers had been rapidly diminishing the past few months, and with no explanation. Sure it was natural for her brethren to take extended leave, to be gone for months at at time, but something didn't feel right. No ... there was nothing right about what was going on.

Walking through the gardens always calmed her mind. But she couldn't shake the unsettling feeling she had that night. She felt someone behind her. She reached for the dagger at her waist and quickly pivoted. No one was there. But when she turned once more to continue through the gardens, she saw him.

Some might ponder that it was who he was to her that she let her guard down in that moment. To others, the sheer thought of being betrayed by the one you love that shattered her resolve within those final moments of their battle. Whatever the case, it all ended with his dagger through her chest.

She shook her head, letting the memories pass from her sight. When she opened her eyes once more, she stared up an endless sea of white. She had been sitting in a large field of white roses, stretched beyond what her eyes could see, blending seamlessly into a dingy grey sky, dusted with dingy white clouds. She chuckled softly and thought to herself Is this hell, or did I find my way to some other forgotten place among the stars?

A strange sound had tore her from her thoughts. It was so foreign at first, until it began to seep into her very core. She turned to see what had been making the sound, and was startled to see a woman sitting right next to her. Where in this hell did she come from?! She cocked her head to the side, examining the strange woman. Her dress blended in with the never ending sea of roses. A thought quickly crossed her mind and she was grateful for the lack of aroma from the field. for if they -had- smelled, it would truly be hell she was sitting in. Either that or her own funeral service. As her gaze moved up, she noticed the woman's blood soaked hands cradling her face. Though they muffled her sobbing, the noise seemed to be everywhere now, growing louder and more intense.

A small chuckle escaped her, slowly growing louder and fuller. She couldn't help herself. If there was any meaning to this, oh the irony behind it all. She buried her face in the soft petals as she laid down in the field of flowers, her laugh melting into bitter tears. She laid there sobbing, unconsolable, her cries matching the woman next to her until she fell asleep.

Her eyes flew open in a panic, she grasped at her chest and tried desperately to catch her breath. She must've had had a nightmare for her heart was .... her body froze, her gaze darted around her, the tension in her hand released as she laid her palm flat on her chest. It was beating! Racing rather, and the more she thought on it, the faster it beat. She was surrounded completely by darkness and had very little space to move around in. Am I trapped in my own grave? This is impossible, I must be dreaming or ... she lifted her tunic slightly, ran her fingers over her wounds, searching for the scar. There it was! But this couldn't be real, could it? Bringing her fists to the wood above her head, she pounded them against the hard surface until she felt it splinter and crack under the pressure of her knuckles. Dirt started to the crumble in as she made her way through. Soon even the moonlight poured into her little ditch and she was free. Free. That word seemed so odd to her. It took her dying just to achieve it. But how? She brushed the dirt from her clothes, and noticed the blood on her hands. "I really am alive, aren't I" she said, reveling at the tint of blood that sparkled in the moonlight. "But how?" And with that she made her way out of the alcove under the tree, she trudged through the woods until she found a road. If she truly was alive, there were so many things she wanted to do. But first on her list, she needed to find out what happened to her and why she found herself alive and here.

Strangeland | Legends Never Die

@pathfinder Awww, I was looking forward to meeting yours. Well, if you're absolutely sure, then I wish you the best of luck with your other adventures :)

Strangeland | Legends Never Die

Isabeau Falkenrath

Aliases: Lady Millisandre DeFlur, Alexandria Cortese
Epithet: Fireheart, Shadow walker
Age: died at the age of 26
Sex: female
Birth date: July 13th

Legends Slain: Amari- High Witch of the Ironteeth Clan, The Desert Prince, High Priestess Adalynn of the Black Hand, the White Dragon of the Dark Spires, Lyndon and Jake Brice (The Brice Bandits), Cain- Champion of the Northern Badlands, Asher- Leader of the Silent Brotherhood

Slain By: James Holde - First officer of the Assassin’s Guild and betrothed to Isabeau

Appearance

Isabeau has short auburn hair. It is longer in the front, sitting just below her chin. Bangs, neatly parted to the side, hang over her forehead and just barely brush over her eyebrows. Her eyes are something to behold; light green surrounded by a thin ring of gold. Freckles sprinkle lightly over her nose. She stands at about 5’7” tall, a petite upper body sitting upon wider hips and thick thighs. Not overly muscular though her body is tone. When exposed, displayed on her back are a number of scars, some seeming a bit more prominent.

Personality

On the outside, she's cold and calculating, quiet and reserved. However there is a burning passion within her. Vengeance simmers from her pores and hatred seeps through every exhale. She wasn't always like this though. And deep down inside, there is a hope for redemption, to return to the wildfire she once was, burning bright and free.

Lore

Though actual details of her birth are a mystery, there are rumors of a witch who fell in love with a prince from a far away land.

The prince had journied far in search of a magical herb that was said to cure a sickness plaguing his kingdom. He came upon a young woman living deep within the woods. Beautiful in every way imaginable, the Prince became enthralled with the young woman and insisted that she leave the woods and return with him to his castle. But she could not leave her home. For she was a witch, just as her mother before her, and so on down the line. Their family and gifts had been banished from the kingdom long ago, and since, had taken refuge in the forest, tending to the wilds and those who lived within its sanctuary.

Unsatisfied, the prince vowed that he would speak with his father to lift their exile if she would return with him as his bride. Gleefully, the young woman accepted. And with the prince as her guest, she spent her last few days in the woods saying her goodbyes and making arrangements for after she left.

Those last few nights blanketed by the stars, we're magical for her and the prince, though as the story goes, it was the last shred of happiness for the young couple. Grandmother Amari, the high witch of their clan, had high expectations for the young witch. Plans which did not include the Prince, plans which would've been especially ruined if the prince took her away to become a princess in the castle. Though a silver lining appeared that would help Amari's plans along. And so the high witch gathered her kin, and her plot for war went into action.

The night before the two lovers were to leave for the castle, Amari had one of the youngest within their clan travel to the cottage where the two were staying. She silently crept in, cloaked within the shadows and darkness of the night. With one clean swipe of her blade, she sliced his throat open, and without anyone noticing, made her way back out. He bled out onto the bed next to his beloved, who never stirred, and never realized his death until the next morning.

It wasn’t until many months later did they all realize the young witch was with child and when the news had traveled to the High Witch, it was ordered to discard the baby once it was born. The young witch with fire red hair and green eyes encircled with a gold ring would never know her daughter.

Despite her childhood being sprinkled with happiness here and there, betrayal and despair became common for her as she grew older unfortunately. Bred into a world of death and darkness, she was raised within the Keep of the Assassin’s Guild and was honed into the land’s deadliest weapon. She was taught to cast all emotions aside, especially that of love. Though Isabeau was very passionate and vibrant, just as her mother. Her only downfall, her one weakness is what led her to her death.

Combat Information:

Equipment

Through her training, she has become a jack of all trades. Though her favorite weapon is the rapier saddled on her left hip. She has a dagger hidden within her boots and one strapped to her belt opposite from her sword. The dagger hanging from her belt is a curved dagger, with a ruby embedded within the hilt.

She typically wears light fabrics, leathers and cloths of darker shades, red being her favorite color.

Techniques and Spells

Part of the reason why the witches wanted to do away with her because she did not have the affinity for magic as they did. However her time in the Assassin’s Keep allowed her to develop other skills and techniques:
Shadow Prison: Isabeau is able to shadow step to her foe for an attack. During this attack, her foe’s movement speed is drastically reduced temporarily

Wild Blow: Isabeau is able to manipulate the shadows around her weapons, increasing the damage done by her attacks. The attack is usually used when attempting to sunder a shield.

Wildfire: Despite not having the understanding of the weave, as the witches did, Isabeau was bestowed with a gift from her mother. The gift of Wildfire. This gift takes an enormous amount of energy to control and wield. When called upon, the shadows immediately surrounding Isabeau will ignite and deadly flames will surround her as well as coat her sword, adding fire damage to her attacks. This generally leaves Isabeau quite drained afterwards

~~*~~

Her Mark

Strangeland | Legends Never Die

I'm sorry it's taken me so long to get this up. I had a block on it for a bit. But here she is :D Let me know if there is anything that needs to be changed

Isabeau Falkenrath

Aliases: Lady Millisandre DeFlur, Alexandria Cortese
Epithet: Fireheart, Shadow walker
Age: died at the age of 26
Sex: female
Birth date: July 13th

Legends Slain: Amari- High Witch of the Ironteeth Clan, The Desert Prince, High Priestess Adalynn of the Black Hand, the White Dragon of the Dark Spires, Lyndon and Jake Brice (The Brice Bandits), Cain- Champion of the Northern Badlands, Asher- Leader of the Silent Brotherhood

Slain By: James Holde - First officer of the Assassin’s Guild and betrothed to Isabeau

Appearance

Isabeau has short auburn hair. It is longer in the front, sitting just below her chin. Bangs, neatly parted to the side, hang over her forehead and just barely brush over her eyebrows. Her eyes are something to behold; light green surrounded by a thin ring of gold. Freckles sprinkle lightly over her nose. She stands at about 5’7” tall, a petite upper body sitting upon wider hips and thick thighs. Not overly muscular though her body is tone. When exposed, displayed on her back are a number of scars, some seeming a bit more prominent.

Personality

On the outside, she's cold and calculating, quiet and reserved. However there is a burning passion within her. Vengeance simmers from her pores and hatred seeps through every exhale. She wasn't always like this though. And deep down inside, there is a hope for redemption, to return to the wildfire she once was, burning bright and free.

Lore

Though actual details of her birth are a mystery, there are rumors of a witch who fell in love with a prince from a far away land.

The prince had journied far in search of a magical herb that was said to cure a sickness plaguing his kingdom. He came upon a young woman living deep within the woods. Beautiful in every way imaginable, the Prince became enthralled with the young woman and insisted that she leave the woods and return with him to his castle. But she could not leave her home. For she was a witch, just as her mother before her, and so on down the line. Their family and gifts had been banished from the kingdom long ago, and since, had taken refuge in the forest, tending to the wilds and those who lived within its sanctuary.

Unsatisfied, the prince vowed that he would speak with his father to lift their exile if she would return with him as his bride. Gleefully, the young woman accepted. And with the prince as her guest, she spent her last few days in the woods saying her goodbyes and making arrangements for after she left.

Those last few nights blanketed by the stars, we're magical for her and the prince, though as the story goes, it was the last shred of happiness for the young couple. Grandmother Amari, the high witch of their clan, had high expectations for the young witch. Plans which did not include the Prince, plans which would've been especially ruined if the prince took her away to become a princess in the castle. Though a silver lining appeared that would help Amari's plans along. And so the high witch gathered her kin, and her plot for war went into action.

The night before the two lovers were to leave for the castle, Amari had one of the youngest within their clan travel to the cottage where the two were staying. She silently crept in, cloaked within the shadows and darkness of the night. With one clean swipe of her blade, she sliced his throat open, and without anyone noticing, made her way back out. He bled out onto the bed next to his beloved, who never stirred, and never realized his death until the next morning.

It wasn’t until many months later did they all realize the young witch was with child and when the news had traveled to the High Witch, it was ordered to discard the baby once it was born. The young witch with fire red hair and green eyes encircled with a gold ring would never know her daughter.

Despite her childhood being sprinkled with happiness here and there, betrayal and despair became common for her as she grew older unfortunately. Bred into a world of death and darkness, she was raised within the Keep of the Assassin’s Guild and was honed into the land’s deadliest weapon. She was taught to cast all emotions aside, especially that of love. Though Isabeau was very passionate and vibrant, just as her mother. Her only downfall, her one weakness is what led her to her death.

Combat Information:

Equipment

Through her training, she has become a jack of all trades. Though her favorite weapon is the rapier saddled on her left hip. She has a dagger hidden within her boots and one strapped to her belt opposite from her sword. The dagger hanging from her belt is a curved dagger, with a ruby embedded within the hilt.

She typically wears light fabrics, leathers and cloths of darker shades, red being her favorite color.

Techniques and Spells

Part of the reason why the witches wanted to do away with her because she did not have the affinity for magic as they did. However her time in the Assassin’s Keep allowed her to develop other skills and techniques:
Shadow Prison: Isabeau is able to shadow step to her foe for an attack. During this attack, her foe’s movement speed is drastically reduced temporarily

Wild Blow: Isabeau is able to manipulate the shadows around her weapons, increasing the damage done by her attacks. The attack is usually used when attempting to sunder a shield.

Wildfire: Despite not having the understanding of the weave, as the witches did, Isabeau was bestowed with a gift from her mother. The gift of Wildfire. This gift takes an enormous amount of energy to control and wield. When called upon, the shadows immediately surrounding Isabeau will ignite and deadly flames will surround her as well as coat her sword, adding fire damage to her attacks. This generally leaves Isabeau quite drained afterwards

~~*~~

Her Mark