LadyRunic

Fae Courtis: The Wylde Hunt

@rechonq Go right ahead!

Fae Courtis: The Wylde Hunt

@rechonq

Aisling sat and strummed the harp. The cold stone beneath her yielded little comfort, but after much sitting and strumming she no longer minded. Mist wove about her like wind blown hair something she quiet enjoyed. Often the mist was dense when the King was absent but when he was about it allowed light to pass and gave a almost mystical feel to the Great Hall. But the Hunt was gathering, now the mist was something threatening and terrifying. A shroud covering a dagger. Aisling wondered what the Fall King wanted with the King of Summer, but knew better than to ask. Asking would get her nothing. Her job was to play her harp and bring him books. Be a general amusement, a pawn for his games of grandeur.

Already she was getting a feeling that his taking her on was not a whim but something far in the planning. That now the wheels were moving and the Fall King had no intentions of letting the die land at a disadvantage to him. The pool from which he saw about his Realm shimmered and gleamed in his power. Ice forming along the edges like in the dying days of Fall before Winter came. Her Lord was not pleased about the Moot. Something had not gone to plan. He sat in his throne, not stretched out but hunched forward. His eyes a ghastly green and shining, his hands steepled before him. She heard him send out the call, beckoning the Fae he sent as messenger- Lost, was it?- to return to him as soon as the package was delivered and with haste. Aisling fought down the need to flee. He wanted something and when Falk wanted something. He got it. The Fall King was never denied.

B.C. ~ A Stone Age RP

Hearing sounds of a fight, Zarra moved towards the noise as she heard the sound of a fight. The shriek of some great cat had snapped her out of her foraging. A cat meant a kill, if she could get to it. It also meant death as she well knew. Peering through the falling darkness, she dropped to a crouch as she heard the sounds of more cats, and a second sound she had not heard in a while. Man noises, laughter. Fear settled in her stomach as she thought of the meat she carried. Would the cats smell it? Would they hunt her and what of the Men. For as she peered through the darkness, she could just making out two figures. Sniffing, she smelled the tang of blood. Moving slowly Zarra eased closer. Perhaps they made a kill, if they left it she could forage. But then again if they had meat on them could she get it? Take them both on? No, that would be foolish. Pausing after a few steps she mused over what to do. Calling out risked attracting the cats, saying nothing risked alarming these two. Zarra shifted, perhaps she should simply wait.

@Brisingr626@Claw2k11

B.C. ~ A Stone Age RP

@Brisingr626@Claw2k11 I'm going to introduce Zarra if you have no quarrel with it?

[ROLEPLAY CLOSED] - The Rise Of Camelot

~General Information~



Name: Gwydion Arryl
Other Names: Magin Cii (Magician)
Real Name (If Applicable): Gwydion Arryl
Occupation: Traveling Musician
Place Of Origin: Village a day from Canterlot
Age: 41
Race: Druid
Affiliation: Neutral Good

Appearance - Long blonde hair and a neat beard, (When he finally reaches a inn with a barber!). Gwydion has the build of a accomplished warrior and mercenary. His torso is badly scared and burned. With piercing green eyes and a laid back stance.

Wardrobe Style:

Armor

"Civil Clothing" [+]

~Relationship Information~

Relationship Status: Single

Partner: None

Father: Darian Arryl (Deceased)

Mother: Aisling Arryl nee. Durrinan (Deceased)

Siblings: Lenaird Arryl (Deceased), Merigold Arryl (Deceased), Derreck Arryl (Deceased), Cerid Arryl (Missing, Gaspar Arryl (Deceased), Sarra Arryl (Deceased), Merrick Arryl (Deceased)

Pet/s: Mule (Brown Horse)

Other: None

~Personal Information~

Personality: He's a tad too enthusiastic, and enjoys chattering to youngsters and oldsters alike. Respectful of friend and foe alike, he's a defender. A protector. A nickname in his childhood was The Magican for his ability to make most everyone smile with his little magic tricks. Though if you meet him in battle the same cannot be said. Gwydion is ruthless, relentless and will drive the unprepared into the ground. Though it's his jovial nature that will throw off the opponent for once he's in a fighter's stance all is of little consequence. He is silent when he fights, often noting to others that words on the field of battle 'get in the way of things' and that not talking gives him 'the breathe to spare'. That spared breathe is often used to flatter maidens. For all his ruggedness the man's a massive flirt with a pretty damsel when not in distress. It will not matter if their noble or peasant. He's cheeky as maybe when holding back his respect and will pin the ear of any idiot command who would send him to die. It takes a lot to get this man to transition from irritated and annoyed to truly angry. This stands to reason due to the size of his deceased family. With magic he pretends not to know, but he keeps a very odd version of the old ways. 'It's in my mind. Everything I need. So discovery isn't a issue.' His magic he uses covertly and has stopped more than one sword for a comrade and had narrow escapes from being killed for his power.

Strengths: Knowledge of herbs and medicines, beasts, and music. He knows sword work like the back of his hand, though he can use ax, staff, or spear as well. He's even used a bucket in a jiffy. Gwydion boasts endurance beyond average men and has shown it many a time in his search for his missing sister.

Weaknesses: He is a tad to chivalrous often getting in trouble with the ladies for it. He's a horrible shot with the bow and often will fall asleep on his horse.

Magic Capabilities:
Telepathy: He can link with up to five people, not including himself, if they are in the same building or with two people if they are inside the city and his is outside. He can maintain it for a good twelve hours in his farther ranges and indefinably in close range. Well versed having used this with his family regularly.

Energy Blasts: He can blast someone for some serious damage within twenty feet. Outside of twenty feet they will most likely take some damage and be knocked on their butt. He can take down a gates and boulders, part of his relentless and mercenary career.

Shape Shifting: He uses this to adapt his appearance and hold a simple change for the best of several weeks, but a full body change would hold for only a week. He's well versed having used this skill during the Purge.

Animal Control: He's adept but not overly used to this. Using it mainly to help guide his horse and pitting his will against any creature that would rather eat him. It's close range for most animals but for his horse it can go up to fifty feet. A merc may need his horse close in a hurry on the battlefield.

Telekinesis: He can move a suit of armor, boulder, swords. Hurling or making them slash and block at his whim. He can control them up to twenty feet beyond that he has to throw. He can hold up to ten swords, or five shields, or three suits of armor, or one boulder for roughly half a day.

Weapons:
A sword, four daggers, a shield, bow and quiver. He also has a shield.

Brief Biography:
Born in a large and happy family shortly before the Great Purge, Gwydion went with his father to see if they could set the Purge right. He knew there was no hope but his father was a optimistic man, perhaps too much so. It was his quick thinking that got Merrick and him back home and Cerid to safety. Since he lost his sister he has wandered the world to find her. As bard, mercenary, or even a actor he has traveled for many years looking for the elusive Cerid. Before settling in Canterlot under a innkeeper's roof, the innkeeper took a liking to him even training him to take the inn on in his stead when the old man passed on the inn.

~Other Information~

Other: None.

~Theme Song~
"Philosophy" By Mercedes Lackey

[ROLEPLAY CLOSED] - The Rise Of Camelot

~General Information~



Name: Cerid Arryl
Other Names: Trenel Syls (Relentless)
Real Name (If Applicable): Cerid Arryl
Occupation: Druid Healer
Place Of Origin: Village a day from Canterlot
Age: 27
Race: Druid
Affiliation: True Neutral

Appearance - With fierce red hair and other minute features such as a stubborn jaw and firm brow to warn of her willful nature, Cerid stands at five foot one. While tiny, and with doe brown eyes she can appear harmless to many. She has scars across the bottom of her feet and her lower legs.

Wardrobe Style:

General

Hunting/Vengence

~Relationship Information~

Relationship Status: Single

Partner: None

Father: Darian Arryl (Deceased)

Mother: Aisling Arryl nee. Durrinan (Deceased)

Siblings: Lenaird Arryl (Deceased), Merigold Arryl (Deceased), Derreck Arryl (Deceased), Gwydion Arryl (Supposed Deceased), Gaspar Arryl (Deceased), Sarra Arryl (Deceased), Merrick Arryl (Deceased)

Pet/s: Nightmare (Black horse), Silkfoot (Black masked Ferret), Whistle (Merlin)

Other: None

~Personal Information~

Personality: She is relentless. Either in the pursuit of knowledge or the vengeance she seeks for her family. She will fight illness and ignorance with a single minded determination. Though she adores creatures and will gladly help them, if you wear the colours of Uther Pendragon the same cannot be said. She is a quiet woman who keeps to herself, happiness long forgot her when devastation happened to her family in the Great Purge. Though she is careful with what she does, if you are indeed innocent of slaying her kin, she will spare you a slow death at her knives. But for what remains to be seen. She loved her family dearly and was heartbroken for years after watching their home burn and her Elder Brother, Gwydion, be slain. This has made her want for a solitary life. But she is torn from this by the need for vengeance. Generally a happy and cheerful person there is a certain regretful air as she looks for vengeance. She's not a killer by nature but a healer so now bears a heavy heart. Though 'her' forest gives her the peace to revive it while watching the deer frolic, and life move as the seasons pass. Often taking in orphaned animals to care for and release in her soft hearted nature. More than once she has led a small child back to his home, a risk she would always take. Anyone could tell by her face when she saw a child that she longed for one of her own.

Strengths: Knowledge of herbs and medicines, beasts, and how people are put together. She can wield a sword with the bare minimum of skill, and is more versed in using her magic in attack and defense and healing, than fighting herself. She can wield dagger and bow by skill at hunting.

Weaknesses: She cannot use a sword well, and is often single minded when at a task. Shy, and cowardly when taken by surprise. She has a slight addictions to lovely things, and especially clothing, often she will float about her small cabin pretending to be some fair lady, and laugh at herself afterwards. She also will never harm or see a child harmed.

Magic Capabilities:
Healing Spells: She can heal non-magical diseases and injuries with a great amount of ease. Able to take on a steady stream throughout most of the day before having to stop to rest. If she drives herself that can be worked on well into the morning of the next day before she will collapse. If magical she will have to deal with source of the problem meaning it could be a single day or weeks until a cure is found and when applied it would take days of treatment to recover. She cannot restore limbs, or blindness/deafness.

Animal Control: Generally it requires a friendly animal and takes very little control. But with a strange animal she exerts more energy and often the focus for the spell can be broken rather easily. The distance will vary for the animal type and the friendliness towards Cerid.

Darker Magic: She can rot flesh and craft diseases. However the disease never takes more than a handful of people and will rarely kill unless she prefects it. And the rot will at most take a section of the body and not the whole thing. She must days worth of rest afterwards and will require skin to object contact for the rot to take effect. For the disease she must create a vessel for it.

Energy Blasts: More akin to a strong gust of wind than a blast of deadly force. It can reach up to twenty feet.

Weapons:
A old sword from Uther's men, a hunting bow, and a set of daggers (Surgical, eating, and tool).

Brief Biography:
Born in a large and happy family shortly before the Great Purge, Cerid lived the good life. However when her brothers Gwydion, Derrick, Merrick and their father went to Camelot to inquire some troubling signs. The Purge began. Shortly before the end for her family began, Gwydion and Merrick returned. Her missing brother and father having been burned as sorcerers. The two were quick to warn the family, but the save for her life was by whim. For when they returned, Cerid was out playing the in the nearby forest. When Gwydion found her and meant to return the smoke warned for fire. He had barely escaped notice of the soldiers as the cut down the Arryl family. Fleeing to the border, they were corned once more and Cerid was forced by her brother to walk across a shale slope to safety her feet badly damaged. She didn't look back and learn what became of her brother. Since then she joined the Druids and learn their lore. She went her own way to her own house and there bides her time. Waiting to extract vengeance for her departed family.

~Other Information~

Other: None.

~Theme Song~
"Mirror Spell" by Mercedes Lackey

Fae Courtis: The Wylde Hunt

@rechonq Nope it does nothing. Just a token.

B.C. ~ A Stone Age RP

Tell me if I need to fix something.

B.C. ~ A Stone Age RP

Dust and the scents of animals filled Zarra's nose as she moved in a stealthy crawl along the ridge. Stalking the lower land for prey she could possibly take on her own. The storm had caused her the loss of many a hunt and her current carcass of one of the smaller creatures was nearly gone. What remained was carefully wrapped on her back as she nibbled away at it. Hopefully soon she would be able to replace it. Digging her hands and feet into the dirt she continued moving, Spotting some bushes down the ridge Zarra moved with extracting carefulness before pausing. Moving once more she paused again, scanning her surroundings. Reaching the brush she began digging at the ground, looking for some of the roots she saw the horned creatures digging at. Perhaps they would be edible. She needed food and food was food. Meat or not. Pausing every so often in her digging to peer over at the threatening ridge.

Fae Courtis: The Wylde Hunt

@rechonq Falk nods, mussing over some factors. Raising a hand he summons a handsome mirror of silver, studded with rhinestones. "Take this to the Summer King." He beckons lost to approach the throne of bones. The mirror's face rippling with the water below. "A gift, a token." The Fall King nods to himself, a hunter's smile upon his lips. Yes, a token. But of what that king would wonder, and Falk wanted him wondering.