LadyRunic

To Claim a Starting World

@Blackmist16With all due respect. No. I barely allowed Mira who sees the dead. Playing a necromancer in its fledgling phase would be playing with dead bodies of people or animals. Something that would be very, very strange and frowned upon is putting it lightly in this time period. Your character would be hunted down and killed when people found out, and do the same to anyone sharing the company of a necromancer.

Also, I'm going to point out that magic is uncommon. Everyone here has magic, while I don't mind it. I'm going to point out most people do not. Ergo, I'm sorely tempted to put a limit on magic users. I won't but magic can cause problems more than it fixes them at times. Something to be aware of.

To Claim a Starting World

@Blackmist16 It depends where one is and not just type. Magic is generally thought of as strange and unnatural in certain areas. Others? It's more accepted by the common people in the North. Any magic that could bring trouble though is discouraged. The Southern mages generally find themselves in temples, or in service to the local nobility. That being said, magic is in its infant state so don't think of spells so much as powers? People are coming into their own. Small kingdoms are forming behind powerful warcheifs, etc.

Also, reply is coming, I've just had a very bad headache today. (Drinking a lot of water to get rid of it.)

To Claim a Starting World

@Blackmist16 It is still open.

To Claim a Starting World

I'll have a post up within two or three days. I've hit the 'long' days at work so when I get home posting as a DM is a bit limited on weekends.

The Prince's Royal Guard

The orcs were a tenacious bunch which at the moment counted against them in the eyes of the defenders of the city. As the grappling hooks snared themselves on the stonework, Zatana wanted to rush forward and cut the ropes but caution held her back. The arrows flew in thick and fast to stop any who tried with fatal, or nearly so, results. The dark elf gave a snarled curse as Leonidas lunged forward to try and hack at one himself. She was supposed to be keeping him safe! Nearly stepping into an arrow she jerked back as one nearly found a landing in her dark flesh, Zatana felt some relief as an arrow bounced off the Prince's pauldron rather than embedding itself into something vital. Turning she set two arrows into the crowd of orc archers each finding a lovely green head to pierce. They needed to get those archers distracted somehow and she doubted joining the battle below would be of benefit.

Her fingers plucked arrows from her quiver, from corpses, from the stonework and even one from the air. A lucky grab, Zatana would admit to no one. Firing them back on the thickest grouping of the goblins when a woman passed her. A half-elf to be precise, and someone to be careful of. The dossier she had on Neysein the Half-Elf was incomplete. Woefully so, and it bothered Zatana to no end. The rest of the dossier was set aside as the Prince called for the dark elf to deal with the archers. Dark eyes glared at the Prince as he whacked Orcs in the face with the hammer. Oh, he wasn't asking for much! Twisting herself about as she plucked arrows and sent them hurtling into the mass of cursed orcs, she looked for something better than an arrow. There were soldiers...

Time to play nice.

Gripping one man who had been standing near the catapult and helping to direct it, she ignored the disgusted look he shot her. "Order of Prince Leonidas, aim for the archers." She knew he heard her, he knew it when he raised his hand and she caught it as he moved to strike her. His nerves and temper fraying and his hatred taking over the good sense that one did not raise their hand to a superior. That the hatred drow, as part of the Royal Guard, did outrank him.

"Drow." The man spat in disgust, despite the Prince's words the hatred bred in the city ran deep.

Gripping his wrist, she applied pressure between the bone and her other hand pressed the head of an arrow under his chin. "Human, I care naught for the hatred of mine race. Your Prince Leonidas gave an order to me. Deal with archers, yes? And so dealt with they shall be. Even if I must fire you from the catapult at them. A flaming body works as well as any stone." She crooned her drowish accent coming to all it's glory as a slight cut trickled blood down the man's neck.

Checking him with her body, she shoved the unbalanced guard back against the catapult as it was loaded. The man was pale under his helm, sweat shining on his face. The soldiers about her were watching warily as Zatana adjusted the insignia of the Royal Guard about her armor so the pendant was shown. They wanted to refuse, but as a member of the Royal Guard, the drow did have rank on them and orders from the Prince. The soldier, a corporal, who was in charge of the catapult snapped to his men the conditions of where the archers were gathered. Though his eyes held more hatred for the dark elf woman. Zatana to her benefit ignored it, grabbing a jug of oil she poured it on the stone and touched a torch to it. Now the simple stone was a flaming meteor as it sailed toward the archers hopefully to dislodge the foolish creatures. But if it did not? Then better it would be for the next shot to come from somewhere else. Zatana had turned on her heels, all too aware of the tight grip the soldier had on his sword.

Playing nice didn't always work out. Zatana admitted it was not her job to make friends, but they did help when they suspected nothing. But she had a job to do and winning the corporal over with sweet words and such would have taken time she did not have. Let alone the insult that he might slap her! Her black eyes glittered under the hood. No man raised a hand to a woman among the dark elves. Plus, if she had played games there was the possibility he would have knifed her and hoped the battle would have covered it up, Zatana had seen and heard of such tactics happening among her own people. Putting the arrow behind a shot she took an orc through the eye when it popped it's ugly head over the wall as she repeated her orders to the cannon. The body thudding below, mute amid the raucous noise of battle.

Blood's Jewels (High Casual Fantasy Revolution)

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Arc I - Terreille in Trouble

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Location: Winton

Liar. The Black Widows were not all dead, though Saetan was not sure about the number who had escaped the corruption that had been cast like a fisher's net over Terrielle. Still, he endured the tiny Queen's antics, they amused him even if he did want to pry for more answers. The Warlord Prince would have as well, but he was stopped by the arrival of Fatima's small Court. The golden eyes narrowed on Jandar as the Warlord held his hands up in a gesture that meant 'peace', though Saetan was ready for anything but. THe slighter figure of Mikhail was noted, though Saetan felt a keener sense of danger from the Prince that the Warlord. Keeping a sharp eye on the two, he moved to wrap his arms tightly about the Queen. His teeth bared in what could be called a smile, though it would be a clear warning of Saetan's cast. Warlord Prince's were not to be tampered with lightly after all. The veneer of humanity that was maintained by the laws of the Blood could very well be ripped away and the more primal nature of the powerful caste could boil to the surface.

"Her erstwhile 'cousin', I presume? Sybl, I thought you were clever enough to not be followed." Saetan crooned to the other man.

*His scent was easy to follow! Lady, you should not worry the males so much! They get very snarly.* The all too blunt mind voice of Dunny interrupted the tension as he scrambled into the cavern. *I do not like it here, it smells very bad. Dareen, Dareen it smells bad. The Queen should leave here.* The counterpart of the small dog, Thom, had waited outside the cavern. Choosing distance from a possible fight as the best option.

The dark haried Warlord Prince was distracted as Dunny spoke. His eyes widening slightly before they narrowed. "I see... A Sceltie Kindred." He remembered the little dogs, and though he had heard of kindred he had never personally met any. "You may not wish to, Lady. But I will find out what Black Widow cast the net to draw males and a Queen to the fold." He whispered in Fatima's ear softly in a lover's voice, his arms moving slowly as to not discomfort the woman as they gripped her more firmly. Watching the two fighters with eyes that were growing cold and a temper that was edging towards the killing edge so he might get answers to the spell that pulled at Sybl. The poor man did not deserve the magic that would play with his emotions. Yet, he would not harm the tiny Queen. That viciousness within him was so very content to hold her close even as he wanted to rip apart these other men. It would have been easy too, but his power was mostly bound and Saetan wanted to rip out Dorothea's throat for that 'gift' now more than ever.

To Claim a Starting World

@Blizz Dont forget to post yourself.

To Claim a Starting World

The forest was just beyond the village's open fields for crops or the odd sheep or goat. A few were rich enough to afford the cattle to help them till the land, but such luxuries were more often found further down south. It took more to feed one of the large heifers during the long winters and only be granted milk and physical labor in turn. A sheep or goat would give milk and the latter would grant wool while the former was better than any sentry. A few of the children watching the idling grazing communal herd waved to Gwendolyn as she passed, some bearing the leather straps of slings. Obviously practicing their aim with the useful tool that helped them scare off predators, though a few of the children seemed to be taking the added precaution of keeping in groups. Anything that would snatch a sheep could well snatch one of them.

As the young woman wandered through the forest, the branches arched overhead and the path was little more than a breakthrough the brush that was devoid of sticks gathered by others for firewood, or any edible plants that might serve someone for a meal. Sunlight grew in the sky and broke through the trees as a squirrel high above scolded Gwendolyn for intruding from high up an elm. Birds fluttered through the canopy, singing out tunes to one another in gossip. The yarrow plant was slowly disappearing having fallen out of season a moon or two before, but the darker shade of the stinging nettles bristled along one side of the clearing. It was not unusual for deer or boar to take shelter in the bush.

But that was not the only darker shadow within the clearing. As Gwendolyn bent down to slice the last of the season's yarrow, the healer would notice blood along the ground. Tuffs of fur as though some small creature had been killed and carried off. A small commonplace thing, but when compared with the recent rumors? A worrying sight. The blood led away from the village, towards where Gwendolyn and Arn would know a mountain stream ran down and would cross through the planted fields of Norn. As the trail led out of the cleaning, the blood became less though it appeared only hours old. If Arn were to try tracking he would note that the trail that led to the blood from the stinging nettles would be a rabbit, what left had come upon the creature quickly and killed it. The tracks that left towards the stream, however, were confusing. Others, a small group of young folk, had come across the trail beforehand and smeared the blood and tracks. Though one set of human tracks went after the trail of blood.

To Claim a Starting World

@Omni5876 I"m going to be adding something tomorrow, so it'd be appreciated if you could hold off.

The Prince's Royal Guard

The war room had been filled with offerings of tentative ideas and suggestions. Which was reasonable, the Royal Guard was not your average gathering of soldiers. Their skills and weaknesses were as varied as the people, and not all for the better nor worse. Zatana paused in thought at that title she so carelessly had given herself. Was she truly some soldier now? Another person to line the ranks and bend her blade in service to the Empire of Man? Perhaps, it was the role she had been given to play after all. Spy, assassin those were terms she was more used to applying to herself. Theif was another, though she tried not to get so connected with that particular one. An old habit that if she was smart, would be curbed shortly. Though, Zatana could not bring herself to stop. Always it was just one more pocket, one more sleight of hand, just a little pinch here and there and she would move on. No one would be the wiser. Who would suspect a Royal Guard? Even one of the dark elves if she bore the seal of their Prince, when she wanted to show it. Though she considered the backlash of Bergkoff finding out her less than pleasant heritage, word would spread and that would cause problems. Drawing more trouble to herself and the Prince would do nothing but put her entire operation into jeopardy. Something Zatana was loath to do. Failure was not acceptable among the dark elves.

Waiting as she was with her thoughts, she was pulled away by a grinning voice of the man beside her. Arching a darkened brow, Zatana glowered at the heir to the Empire as he grinned like he had made the best joke of the day. "I shall just throw you down upon the ladders. The weight of such armor and prestige shall crush them. It is the wise ones who run from me. I use what weapons I have at hand." She muttered under her breath thankful for the mask, her cheeks slightly molten by what she took as telling off from a superior. Something she had done enough to herself! Changing the topic she strung her bow and nocked an arrow from the cauldron of them. "They are tough in the hide, Your Highness, yet they still shall die." She noted in a far more audible voice, as she picked and chose her shots with some care. While the orcs created larger targets than the goblins, they were not so easy to go down. It was just as well, their throats and eyes were what Zatana aimed for and her mark was found just as often as it was missed and body shots were had. Orcs were large targets and she was trying for a very particular place. Her sharp eyes were also distracted by looking for any stray missle that grew too near the Prince and to intercept it or move the royal young man out of its way. It would not do for a stray strike to take down the reason she was in the Empire of Man.