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4 yrs ago
Current What lies in the hearts of the drae if not madness? - Ma'doc
4 yrs ago
Replies will be coming out in a few days. Been down sick.
4 yrs ago
"Fly you fools!"
3 likes
5 yrs ago
To everyone waiting on replies. They most likely will be out tomorrow or Saterday. I need to get a part for my computer!
1 like
5 yrs ago
Sorry if replies are a bit slow. Dealing with a headache.
4 likes

Bio

Hello! I'm LadyRunic! But you knew that...

I love most types of Role Play, but by far my favorites are those that are well thought out and worked with. Especially when you can find a group you can work well with. I love books- So many books. It's a running bet that I will become buried under a pile of said objects one day... I'm a tad busy, and when an Rp really catches my interest I'm inpatient for posts. It's like reading a good book and getting stuck on a cliff hanger.

You can generally expect posts regularly once a week if not more.

I've RP'd for the better part of fourteen years, so I can honestly say I have some experience and I've developed the understanding of what I expect of a partner in a one-on-one or a group. I'm also the sort who will speak up and point out something if it looks off or forms a problem to me. I spent most of a year once stuck in a Voice Chat Rp that was hell on Earth, so I'm straight forward when I need to say something. I expect this in return from my Rpers and DMs. I want to improve my writing and love constructive criticism.

Most Recent Posts

@SilverPaw @eclecticwitch @Zoey Boey @13org @Slim Shady Working on an update if any of you want to squeeze in another post. Just drop a notification that you intend to into the Discord, so I see it.
@Zoey Boey @Slim Shady a reminder that we are on day 8!
@Zoey Boey If you wouldn't mind, how would you write anyone into a corner? I think you would probably be fine as we've moved everyone back to camp.
Mor'gann Arnhar

Location: Mandalore, Keldabe city


Mor'gann scoffed slightly, the scarred corner of her mouth making her appear to be sneering in disdain. As if meat was something to run out of. Where was there not fish and beasts to feast upon if one could but hunt it? The thought was astounding to the young woman. Though sustainable food gained from forage or growing was a far more tedious task, those things were thus merely additions rather than their main source. In truth, Mor'gann was torn between leaving this strange woman and her hazardous ways to the market and making her own way and continuing to wander about until she had a better grasp of things. While the wiser course would be to learn from the woman's mistakes, Mor'gann was, in her own way, trying to avoid trouble. She had escaped Dxun and saw no reason to raise the ire of the locales more than they had.

Which was another matter within itself! The locals here seemed to not be from here at all. The patchwork of people within the market had been of such a variety that it had thrown Mor'gann off balance. The wandering she had done before finding the odd 'man' to whom she sold her hides had done little as not only did they look strange not one of them spoke the language of Dxun- which did make sense, even as it aggravated and soothed Mor'gann at the same time. Their tools were odd and their metal ships and little metal ship-like constructs that rolled about with beeps and boops were astounding. Though their cooking was by far questionable to her eyes, Mor'gann was slightly of the opinion that could very well have done with the crazed woman's interference than any fault of the food.

Dusting off a shoulder of her maalraas hide tunic, the younger woman gave a world-weary sigh. "Trade to'ken." Though it did not seem exactly that. A trade token was essentially an 'I Owe You'. These did not seem to be the sign of a favor that would be required to be returned, but rather a permanent thing so long as she did not wish to exchange them for something. For so large a group, she could well imagine this was far simpler than a token and needing to hunt a certain person down to redeem it. Let alone what those tokens were generally reserved for! Clicking her tongue absently, Mor'gann nodded with a certain decisiveness. "Ship, more credis." The dark-haired woman agreed. "No..." She gestured the way they had come and made and gesture between their former foe and themselves, searching for the word in the common tongue to this place. "No near 'im. Ship far here." She gestured sharply further down the market as if it made perfect sense to look for a captain away from the man who had accosted the both of them.
@Zoey Boey You just worry about getting better! Your health comes first!





Arc I - Terreille in Trouble




In the ruined town of Sharon, Shalador



The town was quiet as the group of four slipped by, a blessing though not one without some ill. As the group skirted about the dim lights of a guardhouse they could hear the raucous laughter from within and the argumentative voice of a younger man demanding that he didn't have anything illegal and wished to continue home. Something the guards seemed disinclined to allow. Several others roamed the streets, stinking of ale and often hefting along with a purse or bag of someone unfortunate enough to be out past curfew. Yet, the group made it out with several close calls. The road itself deserted of travelers with good reason. It was over an hour before Fatima and her bodyguards drew close to the camp they would see the low fire that Gen had prepared. Deciding to risk the limited light in need to make sure Faeril was alright and to keep away what rats that Xandar hadn't killed or scared off. The Black Widow and her friend were nearby arguing while Xandar was off chopping wood. Each swing of the ax a crash through the night, perhaps not the wisest of moves. But wood was always needed and someone cutting wood would not be an odd noise, merely the place where the noise was coming from would be curious.

Bellinar was perched up in one of the ruined houses, watching the group come in. Satisfied that they were in, the Eyrien warrior swooped into the night on dark wings to make sure himself that they were not followed. Something that Mikhail would know was, in fact, the case. Someone had followed them from Eldra lagging far enough behind that they were just out of sight. The youngest of the three brothers, Denvar nodded slightly, as he perched in a window keeping watching while he brother flew off.

The Black Widow looked over her should at the shirtless form of Xandar, her lip curling in a sneer as she snipped at the Warlord Prince. "And they have returned, just as I told you." In truth, she was unnerved by the amount of strength and frustration that Xandar displayed.

"Do not act all sure, when you yourself were worried." Growled Gen to the icy Widow, who in turn pretended to ignore him. Giving a superior glare to Faeril, the Warlord looked back to the group as they came up the ruined street. "How did it go?" He could guess but Gen was feeling like a bit of a prick and wanted to rub Faeril's folly in a bit more. He loved the woman dearly, but Faeril was stubborn. Alway certain she knew the right way when now more than ever the right way was needed to be discussed over and not just her dictating how things would go.

Sipping the water, the Black Widow looked crossly at Fatima arching a brow as if asking how she had managed to ruin a perfectly good illusion so soon. "Must we ask, when we know?" The Widow shot back at her longtime friend.

"Despite what you'd like to believe you are not omnipotent." Was the iron retort.





Arc I - Terreille in Trouble




Eldra ,Shalador



The guards were tense and in shorter numbers, as most took the tunnel vision of their Queen to lax their strict regime retiring to bars and taverns to drink and wench away. With Laska distracted by taking her outrage out on Saetan her men who were in the manor were either jeering the unfortunate male or trying in vain to be unaware of the sounds of Laska's outraged shrieks which echoed out into the town near her Queen's Residence. As two wandered the back allies to avoid being seen drinking on the job by any Aristo who might decide to take exception or try to blackmail them for their lapse. Passing 'Ambrose & Sons: Books and Basics' and it's peeling letters, the dim light from within not a strange thing. Often poorer stores would stay open later in hopes of gaining a few more clients. "I don't know why we have to patrol, even like this. Not like anyone is moving around." Came the gruff voice of the leaner of the two, his face hollow from the horrors he had witnessed.

"As much as they aren't movin' around, they are whisperin'. We might get lucky enough to come across someone we can have our own fun roughenin' up before we had over to the Master of the Guard." The shorter man who was nothing but a blur of darkness against the dusty glass. "Get ourselves a bonus." Stout sounded gleeful at the thought of those extra marks in his pocket.

The slimmer shadow paused and fumbled with a darker blob, fumbling before the faint sound of a cork coming free echoed from the tight alley. A string of swears coming from Stout as the cork rolled out of sight, the torch that bloomed brightly being swept about as the shorter man looked for it while Slim took a long drink. "Leave it, not like it'd be fit for the bottle again." The torch-bearer returned shortly kicking the door. The rattling would have scared the shop-keeper silly, but as it was he had made sure to lock up- for the most part. Retiring back to the apartment above to shelter with his family. The old man had been eager enough to agree that Fatima and the others could stay and pursue his collection, both legal and not, of books. His daughter had even brought down a pot thick with stew and bread. Course fare but edible.

"Doesn't matter." Grunted the stout man. "We'll finish it before we get back to the tavern. At least we aren't standing guard duty tonight." There was a weary chuckle as the two moved on. "Those poor bastards." One of the guards said in a mocking tone.

It was long minutes later when steps sounded on the stairs. Soft footfalls that caused the wood to creak in protest. "They passed onto the street." Came the voice of the bookkeeper, his voice thick with fright and terror with good reason. Looking down into the dark halls created by the shelves of dusty books. "Best I could tell, at least. If you leave now the guard will be the lightest with the Queen distracted with Saetan. I'd suggest you get out of the Territory all-together." While the warning was for Fatima, the man spoke to Jandar and Mikhail. Speaking to a Queen did little good for the people of Terreille. "If you have need of anything else...?"
Adaahna Vanil & Mor'gann Arnhar


Location: Mandalore, Keldabe city, Leaving Cantina


Mor’gaan herded the strange, brawling woman down the street. Her brows furrowed by the worry of what had transpired in the canteen shortly before. The young woman had been hoping that her introduction into the wider existence beyond Dxun would have been quiet. Peaceful. Essentially anything saving what had happened. The blessing of it all had been that she hadn’t had to pay for their food or drink. ”You does fight good.” She noted to Adaahna, in truth she thought the woman was a bit sloppy, but the strange woman had been drinking. Something Mor’gann herself generally stayed away from. There were other things that were more productive she could do. Drinking to dull pain or enjoy herself? It was a senseless and foolish notion. ”No more. Trouble ‘n more no need.” She admonished slightly, though she kept guiding the Togruta. Adaahna understood these people better than her, and Mor’gann was unwilling to lose that advantage until she herself had gained it.

As her new companion kept her moving, Adaahna simply nursed the cuts on her face, “fighting for fun, doesn’t really matter who wins.. As long as nobody starts trouble I won't make any noise.” She ended with a nod to show her agreement, just incase Mor’gann hadn’t understood. Perhaps she’d been too quick to fight with the stranger, but he’d insulted her new friend, and stole drink. “Now perhaps, we should find a way to leave, maybe earn some credits.'' While she spoke aloud, she was unsure if her companion would have any input, seemingly so new to the world outside her home, Adaahnas’ eyes scanning around for any signs of peacekeepers as she hurried along. “The metal.. Thing, you have, what is that?, feels like i’ve seen one before.”

These people and their alien language! Could they not at least try speaking a dialect that was common? Mor’gann pinched the bridge of her nose at her own ignorance and the perceived ignorance of her companion. Letting out a breath, the young shaman looked at the metal cylinder at her waist that Adaahna seemed to be referring to. Tapping it carefully with a finger in question. ”This? Relic.” She answered in her native tongue, not eager to pursue conversation.

Snorting in amusement at what to her was undecipherable language, Adaahna turned to face her companion fully, bringing the motion to a halt. “i can take a hint, you don’t wish to speak. But without a plan of action we may be stuck here. May be valuable to trade with a pilot..” Adaahnas’ face slightly contorted with frustration, primarily at herself for getting them into trouble in the first place, slightly at the stinging cut still irritating her brow whenever her face moved. Clutching her spear a little tighter the Togruta shook her head before letting out a sigh and bowing slightly in apology before half turning to continue walking alongside Mor’gann.

”Credits…” Mor’gann asked suddenly her brow creasing as the woman bowed to her. An action that she found familiar if disconcerting that it was aimed towards her. ”What they?”

What are credits?.. Even Adaahnas’ home tribe used credits, wherever this woman was from must be really REALLY backwater.. ”ah, uhh… Credits.. You can exchange them for goods and services. Trade meats or grains for them, then when you need other things, you do not need to wait for meats and grains to be in season again.” She was somewhat frowning to herself as she tried to reason it out in her head, she wasn’t exactly smart when it came to how the whole thing worked, she mostly just knew that you could trade it for things, and it didn’t go off.





Arc I - Terreille in Trouble




In the ruined town of Sharon, Shalador

Counter of Days: 5 days



Gennar paced back and forth next to the coach, his wings rustling restlessly as he kept giving the town off in the distance furtive looks. It wouldn't have been too horrid if Faeril had not insisted on doing nothing. Then perhaps at least one of them could have tried to slip into the town proper and make sure nothing was amiss. The Black Widow was insistent, however, they could not interfere with what may or may not happen within the town. It was for Fatima, their Queen, to deal with. "Ashke, this is foolishness. Dusk is going and gone with the Queen not back yet. We cannot remain here waiting and risking our own necks let alone hers. What if something happened?" While it was true that Fatima was not his Queen in the sense that his heart belonged to her, Gen was invested due to the hope that Fatima brought.

Enduring her dear friend's glower, Faeril sighed her brow furrowed with her own worry. "If she is foolish enough to get trapped in Eldra, then there was no hope form the start." Not to mentioned they needed what she had felt in the town before her spell-web had been torn apart by the dark black power. It had been a small blessing that the landens had left by that point. When the feedback from a spell woven over the course of months fed back on her, Faeril had lost her legs. Normally a break like that didn't put her on her ass but her spells had never been so brutalized before. Cranky already from taking Xandar's comments before as an insult, she now had been even more bitchy. Wrapped up in two thick blankets courtesy of Bellinar, the Widow bristled as Gen snarled.

"That is cold, Ashke."

"I am a cold person, Gen." Snipped the Eyrien woman, sipping water from a mug. The few herbs in it floating and bobbing as her hand shook slightly.

"You know who they ran into. Fuck's sake, the Black put you on your ass." Gen turned about, his wings flaring in agitation. Startling the witch slightly as it took something big to startle Gennar. Of the four of them he was the most unflappable, so to speak. "We need to go into the town ourselves and deal with it. Now. It's night and our best chance to not be obtuse about it. I don't give a damn what you say right now, Fae." The icy blue eyes narrowed as Gen used his childhood nickname for her. One only used by the brothers three and those deeply familiar with the Healer-Black Widow. "You said yourself we need the Queen. Can we really risk losing her over some bastard who serves the Hyallian Courts? I never heard a bad thing about the Sadist from those who weren't Aristo but even those who were Aristo and stayed out of his way crossed him by merely existing at one time or another."

Faeril shifted from her seat nervously. "You surprise me by considering the words of an Aristo."

"You are one." Snapped the Warlord as he shifted back to watching the town. "I'm just telling you what I hear."




Queen's Residence Eldra ,Shalador



"Really, you just couldn't help yourself?" The sweet, overly honeyed voice purred into his ear. "A fool insulted you, so you tore him apart?" Laska, Queen of Eldra and the landen village of what had been Sheepsfold, circled about the tall and intimidating figure of Saetan SaDiablo. The Warlord Prince for his credit looked bored with the theatrical movement as Laska pranced about to show off a dress that was more gossamer than material and did little to hide a body that was just a bit too tall to be attractive. It was a common joke well out of the Queen's hearing that her mother must have been a horse herself. A truth, though they would not know it. Their last Queen, Lady Marthea, had been quite horrified by her daughter's appearance. So she had hidden the girl away and would have disposed of her altogether if she had gotten with another child. Alas that hadn't happened. So Marthea had wedded her daughter to a desperate man who needed her favor and Laska had been born. While it was true the Queen of Eldra had a face that resembled a horse, there was a lightness to the bone structure that could be forgiving. If Saetan had a guess he would assume that the child's grandfather had been a landen. The father must have been a desperate dark jeweled merchant who had been running from someone else. The daughter, a lighter jeweled witch, wedded to a man far darker to produce a daughter with enough power to hold her own and thus the entire scandal would be covered up for good if only he would bless Laska with the ability to continue her line, and lie. Which he had no intention on doing.

"Yes, I believe that is what I stated." He hissed in a soft voice full of venom. He needed Laska to keep the show going tonight. But why? it was a stupid idea that the little Queen he met in the bookshop could turn the Blood's corruption back on itself. Yet, he couldn't help himself. Saetan wanted to help her. To make sure at least one pure Queen could go on for a little longer. "Do you need me to spell it out for you? Assuming you can spell, can you not?"

That comment had been met with a slap across the face, much to the amusement of the guards. "I do not need your excuses. You know what happens when you use the jewels. Dorothea said you were never to use them, and if you did. Well, she never went into detail. So I suppose I can be... Inventive. Now, if you made such a mess? Where are the bodies?" Saetan smirked as well, which only proved to infuriate Laska all the more. Let her put on this show and strive against him while the guards watched on and enjoyed the entertainment. Though it was unknown to Saetan the guards through the town were on edge from the temper of the Queen and what the Warlord Prince had done. No one was quite sure and that only put those who might be on the wrong side of Saetan on edge. Could it be a trap, or had were they going to stumble upon a body? If it was the latter, it was most likely a favorite of Laska and if that was the case then who would take the news back to the Queen? Thus most of the guards were in pairs, keeping close to the town proper. Unease running through the streets from an evening spent basking the town in the temper of it's Queen. Laska had torn through several shops. Particularly gutting the places before finding Saetan wandering up the road whistling a merry tune. True it had been far from the little bookshop, but even that had seemed too close to Saetan's taste. So he had egged the Queen on in the open street.

Perhaps that hadn't been the wisest course of action when he thought about it. Laska had promised that this night was going to be for her amusement, but the next dawn would bring the torment to teach those that thought she might be slipping. Well, wasn't he a fool? What had crossing that little witch done to him? Saetan grinned, even as the Queen shrieked. At least it would let the little, pure Queen get away. If the little Queen was smart enough.
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