Angir Tarquith jolted suddenly awake from his troubled dreams, a cold sweat covered his body and his hands were clenched tightly into fists. He blinked several times as his eyes readjusted to the murky darkness that surrounded him like an unwelcome smell, the memories of the dream already disappearing from his grasp. He ran his fingers through his short brown hair, as always it was a slightly tangled mess. He was breathing heavily and for a brief moment wonder if he had truly awakened, but soon had his question answered as he heard the sounds of shouting and fighting coming from the courtyard below his window. Scrambling out of bed and rushing to the window he cursed violently as he stubbed his toe on the bedpost and almost crashed into the wall beside his bed. Continuing to curse his misfortune he rubbed his deep green eyes as he quickly glanced down at the scene below, almost not being able to believe what he was seeing. The King’s royal guard were swarming through the open gate into his father’s castle, attacking and slaughtering all who stood in their way. As he watched one of his father’s most loyal guardsmen, Sir Howell emerged from the keep and charged forwards into the fray bellowing like a berserker wearing only his sleeping gown and wielding a huge ornate hammer. Sir Howell caved in the skull of the nearest men to him just as the cowardly man sunk his sword into one of the poor serving girls as she begged to be spared - she had lived at the castle her entire life and tried in vain to flee. He watched as Sir Howell rounded on the next guard and with a colossal swing he caved the man’s breastplate and chest inwards, causing a sickly crunching noise to echo throughout the courtyard as blood and assorted gore gushed from the man. Several of his father’s other guardsmen rushed forwards to join the battle, emerging from a side door into the keep.
Finally tearing his eyes away from the melee the sickening realisation of what was happening hit Angir. ‘It’s me they are here for…’ he said in his own mind, suddenly feeling queasy as he realised the men outside were dying because of him. He rushed to the large wardrobe that stored his clothes and frantically dressed himself, throwing on his highest quality traveling clothes over his tall slim frame, and his most sturdy leather boots onto his feet before finally strapping on a large dark cloak. Moving back over to his bedside he grabbed his satchel and began stuffing it with numerous small books and pieces of parchment that littered his desk as quickly as he could. Throwing it over his should he took one moment to look out of the window once more, gasping in dismay as he saw that most of his father’s guards now lay dead or dying, Sir Howell being the only man left standing. Several cuts were apparent almost instantly, his blood running down staining his white nightgown in several places. As three men rushed the knight attacking him simultaneously another man rushed to attack him from behind. Sir Howell swung his hammer in a large arc at the three men, its sharpened head smashing the first man cleanly in the jaw, teeth and even what looked like a severed eye went flying as the strike continued through and crunched into the second man’s shoulder. The third man was too quick and managed to lunge in before the hammer stuck him, and managed to land a blow into Sir Howells side with his sword sticking fast.
The heavily wounded Knight roared and dropping his hammer he grabbed the man who was beginning to try and withdraw his sword frantically, with one hand he grabbed the man’s throat and in an instant had crushed the man’s larynx, his other hand pulling the sword from his own side before he drove it through the heart of the man with the wounded shoulder.
“Sir Howell! Behind you!” screamed Angir futilely from the window as the fourth man lunged forwards with his blade. The sword sunk deep into the Knight’s back and as blood began to ooze from his mouth he slowly turned and tried to stab the man with the sword. However at this point his strength had obviously left him and the man easily knocked it from his hand before he grinned savagely and kicked Sir Howell to the ground before taking a step over him and plunging his blade into the Knights body several more times. Once he was finished he looked up at the window, his eyes meeting with Angir’s for a few moments before he shouted “He is up there! Men, storm the castle and bring him to me.”
Fighting back his tears and building rage Angir turned and sprinted into the castle as quickly as he could, determined to make sure that his father’s men had not been killed in vain. Any servants or guardsmen that he passed he warned to flee as he rushed up towards his father’s room. As he reached the staircase that lead upwards he was confronted by several king’s guards who were in the process of rushing up, one of them spotted him immediately and shouted to the others. Turning to run he was blocked from the way he had come by another guardsman with a fierce snarl on his face. Angir backed away slowly, now cornered with no way to go other than into the solid wall behind him.
As the men approached he raised both of his hands and began to do the only thing that he could. He began to weave a spell together that would with any luck kill all of the men before him, targeting their hearts and the fragile system of arteries and other internal organs that would be most vulnerable – dark magic that he had been heavily studying for some time now, but had never been brave enough to attempt. Already he felt the strain of weaving, feeling his energy sapping directly from him and into the spell he was now creating with all of his concentration. As several of the men lunged forwards he released the built up power within himself and poured himself fully into it. As several of the men suddenly screamed out and crumpled to the ground he realised that he was nowhere nearly as strong to sustain the deadly magic and as it drained the last of his will and he felt his legs turn to jelly as he collapsed backwards, his vision slowly darkening as the remaining men rushed towards him.
Extremely disoriented and weak, the next time Angir’s eyes opened he realised that he was now in shackles and several guards were stood closely by him, his body covered in several small cuts and bruises and his cloak torn away, his left eye also felt painfully swollen. He was now in the courtyard of the castle, the bodies from the earlier fight had been moved and thrown unceremoniously into one of the far corners. His head pounded and he tried to concentrate on what he was seeing. Several guardsmen were stood around all watching the scene before him, his beaten and bruised father kneeling before the guardsman who had killed Sir Howell. He faded in and out of consciousness as he realised that the man was reading a list of charges to his father as rain fell freely from the sky.
“…furthermore, you are charged with harbouring spies, traitors and other enemies of the state, including your own son. As his father all responsibility for his crimes fall upon yourself as Lord of this castle and its surrounding lands, which include but are not limited to: unsanctioned use of forbidden sorcery, use of sorcery without appropriate licences, mass murder of lawful subjects of the kingdom, the spying and gathering of secret information, selling of said information, harbouring aiding and abetting other spies for the Nomadic Provinces of The Dunes, plotting against his Highness, sabotage and finally the brutal murder of several government officials. The only punishment for such treason for a man of your position is execution, to be carried out immediately.”
As Angir’s vision began to fade once more he watched as the man drew the same sword which was still stained with Sir Howells blood and raised it above his father’s head. He wanted to scream and cry out that the charges were false, that he hadn’t done any of those things, that the forbidden magic was his fault and not his fathers, but one of the guards nearby smashed his head savagely with a cudgel as soon as he began to move. As his sight faded the last sound he heard was the sound of his father’s head being removed from his body followed by a sickening thudding sound.
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Most Recent Posts
Wonderful! Of course accepted - I will add him to the approved characters shortly!
Wonderful! I shall begin work on a post to introduce my character with much haste!
Oh, I also added you on Steam – I’m, ‘Bloodlut’ the pink grinning cat pic.
Oh, I also added you on Steam – I’m, ‘Bloodlut’ the pink grinning cat pic.
I'm definitely happy and want to continue whatever the numbers.
As above – very interested in this and the small group format.
Well here is the Cs. Let me know if it is any good or if you had something entirely different in mind.
Name:
Lady Tonia de Vale
Gender:
Female
Age:
37
Appearance:
Lady de Vale carries herself proudly, a stern look never far from her face. Her dark mahogany hair which falls down to just below her shoulders is beginning to lose its shine, age taking a hold of the once almost flawless beauty as streaks of grey begin to appear. Similarly her face is now begging to show some slight wrinkles and other signs that she is now approaching her more twilight years – the pressure of what she has had to endure leaving a mark on her once carefree and lively demeanour. She wears fine clothing as expected of her, though chooses slightly more modest items opposed to the lavish wealth that other nobles display to lord themselves over their poverty stricken subjects. Her eyes remain as sharp and piercing as ever, many different hues and shades of green blending into the deepest natural green which resembles the colour of perfect emerald.
Personality:
She appears to most to be a stern and loyal woman, the wife of Lord Galbert De Vale – one of the twelve Noblemen who rule the various provinces of Maeryn. This is actually a fiercely maintained façade that she keeps about herself, guarding her true personality and feelings so that none but herself knows them. Truly she has come to hate her husband and all that he stands for - corruption, pomposity and cruelty. He has brought their two sons up to be just as cruel and selfish, now of age they are both officers within the Bornia, the emperors personal enforcers. They travel the land killing and pillaging against all of the emperors perceived enemies. She is now sceptical and often falls into periods of depression or a general melancholy mood. At heart Tonia values freedom, kindness, happiness and honour – things which have been absent from her life for far too long.
Skills/Talents:
As a noble lady Tonia was kept away from all matters of men and war, thrust instead into a world of political intrigue and plotting bearcats from a young age. She is familiar with many aspects of the Empire and its running. Lately she has made sure to focus her efforts onto gathering as much sensitive information as possible, anything which could be used against the Emperor and the other noble houses which lord over the people of the land.
She is naturally open and honest, but through necessity she has become secretive and guarded, gaining many skills in deception and manipulation.
She has studied what is known about the anatomy of men in secret, learning where the many key arteries and various veins are located throughout one’s body, so that if she ever needs to defend herself or strike suddenly then she will be able to do what needs to be done with a single cut from a dagger or other sharp enough weapon.
Weapons/Equipment:
Tonia generally speaking carries very little on her person, having everything she needs provided to her by her husband or his servants – or otherwise being able to locate what she needs from their lavish manor house.
She carries a small dagger which is hidden away on her person at practically all times, either hidden in clothing or footwear – depending on whatever is easiest and most practical.
She has recently gathered and hidden a small ‘cache’ of provisions and other useful items within a bundle just outside of the estate grounds. This includes gold, a sword and other none-perishable items – anything that she would need to survive if she fled the estate as an enemy of the emperor. Foodstuff and other items she would be able to take from the kitchen providing she had a few moments to do so.
Occupation:
Lady de Vale – wife of the Lord de Vale.
Rank:
N/A
Bio:
Lady de Vale lives her life more or less as a prisoner, though definitely not in the conventional sense of the word. She ‘loyally’ serves her husband as a wife should – and dares not speak against him or his actions for fear of his anger and wrath. Secretly she is now at the end of her tether, disillusioned and disgusted by the Emperor and the way that his subjects are treated, equally so with her fool of a husband who taxes and abuses his subjects at will. She waits now for the perfect opportunity to kill her husband in his sleep and abandon the current emperor in favour of some other leadership, whatever form it may take.
Lately she has heard stirrings of a successful bandit group far to the north, nothing substantial or of particular interest – other than the fact that she knows that they are practically the last group of organised fighting men and women who were still against the mad emperor that have not yet been brought to heel. As such she is keeping a careful eye on the situation and again gathering as much information as possible that may one day be of some use.
Other:
Hates her family, the emperor and everything they have come to stand for. She regrets not killing her two sons before they became the horrific men they are today and given the chance she would kill the lot of them and be done with it for the greater good of the people. She is now simply waiting for the perfect time and opportunity to strike out and deal as much damage as possible before she can flee away from the empire and hopefully one day live to see it placed in the hands of someone who will be the true and just ruler that the people need.
Name:
Lady Tonia de Vale
Gender:
Female
Age:
37
Appearance:
Lady de Vale carries herself proudly, a stern look never far from her face. Her dark mahogany hair which falls down to just below her shoulders is beginning to lose its shine, age taking a hold of the once almost flawless beauty as streaks of grey begin to appear. Similarly her face is now begging to show some slight wrinkles and other signs that she is now approaching her more twilight years – the pressure of what she has had to endure leaving a mark on her once carefree and lively demeanour. She wears fine clothing as expected of her, though chooses slightly more modest items opposed to the lavish wealth that other nobles display to lord themselves over their poverty stricken subjects. Her eyes remain as sharp and piercing as ever, many different hues and shades of green blending into the deepest natural green which resembles the colour of perfect emerald.
Personality:
She appears to most to be a stern and loyal woman, the wife of Lord Galbert De Vale – one of the twelve Noblemen who rule the various provinces of Maeryn. This is actually a fiercely maintained façade that she keeps about herself, guarding her true personality and feelings so that none but herself knows them. Truly she has come to hate her husband and all that he stands for - corruption, pomposity and cruelty. He has brought their two sons up to be just as cruel and selfish, now of age they are both officers within the Bornia, the emperors personal enforcers. They travel the land killing and pillaging against all of the emperors perceived enemies. She is now sceptical and often falls into periods of depression or a general melancholy mood. At heart Tonia values freedom, kindness, happiness and honour – things which have been absent from her life for far too long.
Skills/Talents:
As a noble lady Tonia was kept away from all matters of men and war, thrust instead into a world of political intrigue and plotting bearcats from a young age. She is familiar with many aspects of the Empire and its running. Lately she has made sure to focus her efforts onto gathering as much sensitive information as possible, anything which could be used against the Emperor and the other noble houses which lord over the people of the land.
She is naturally open and honest, but through necessity she has become secretive and guarded, gaining many skills in deception and manipulation.
She has studied what is known about the anatomy of men in secret, learning where the many key arteries and various veins are located throughout one’s body, so that if she ever needs to defend herself or strike suddenly then she will be able to do what needs to be done with a single cut from a dagger or other sharp enough weapon.
Weapons/Equipment:
Tonia generally speaking carries very little on her person, having everything she needs provided to her by her husband or his servants – or otherwise being able to locate what she needs from their lavish manor house.
She carries a small dagger which is hidden away on her person at practically all times, either hidden in clothing or footwear – depending on whatever is easiest and most practical.
She has recently gathered and hidden a small ‘cache’ of provisions and other useful items within a bundle just outside of the estate grounds. This includes gold, a sword and other none-perishable items – anything that she would need to survive if she fled the estate as an enemy of the emperor. Foodstuff and other items she would be able to take from the kitchen providing she had a few moments to do so.
Occupation:
Lady de Vale – wife of the Lord de Vale.
Rank:
N/A
Bio:
Lady de Vale lives her life more or less as a prisoner, though definitely not in the conventional sense of the word. She ‘loyally’ serves her husband as a wife should – and dares not speak against him or his actions for fear of his anger and wrath. Secretly she is now at the end of her tether, disillusioned and disgusted by the Emperor and the way that his subjects are treated, equally so with her fool of a husband who taxes and abuses his subjects at will. She waits now for the perfect opportunity to kill her husband in his sleep and abandon the current emperor in favour of some other leadership, whatever form it may take.
Lately she has heard stirrings of a successful bandit group far to the north, nothing substantial or of particular interest – other than the fact that she knows that they are practically the last group of organised fighting men and women who were still against the mad emperor that have not yet been brought to heel. As such she is keeping a careful eye on the situation and again gathering as much information as possible that may one day be of some use.
Other:
Hates her family, the emperor and everything they have come to stand for. She regrets not killing her two sons before they became the horrific men they are today and given the chance she would kill the lot of them and be done with it for the greater good of the people. She is now simply waiting for the perfect time and opportunity to strike out and deal as much damage as possible before she can flee away from the empire and hopefully one day live to see it placed in the hands of someone who will be the true and just ruler that the people need.
Thats all good for me. Just reading along till then 
Looking for any specific character slots to be filled at all? I’m happy for practically any role to play that will aid the RP – if you’re still looking for characters that is.
At the moment I’m putting together a CS for a noble lady (Married to one of the 12 lords who run everything) who will be betraying/killing her husband at the very start of the RP and joining with the rebellion movement if that works?
At the moment I’m putting together a CS for a noble lady (Married to one of the 12 lords who run everything) who will be betraying/killing her husband at the very start of the RP and joining with the rebellion movement if that works?
Awesome! I guess now we wait and hope a few more pop in.
I suppose worst case deal - we could always make this a 1x1 and focus on the brother and sister but make up a bunch of NPCs and things like that.
I suppose worst case deal - we could always make this a 1x1 and focus on the brother and sister but make up a bunch of NPCs and things like that.
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