@Milkman Wonderful IC post - I can't wait to get underway! I was going over Vilhelm's backstory with a bit more scrutiny now that the excitement of getting it done has passed, and I wasn't satisfied with his current occupation or really motivations to even want to go after Hadrian's treasure. So if it's alright with you, I'm going to alter his current occupation into professional Treasure Hunting rather than the more vague Bounty Hunter/Private Security. It fits nicely into his character and would give Katelyn Smith a more justified explanation for reaching out to him for this job!
Lord Wyron
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Made a few tweaks to my CS now that I've slept lol. Nothing significant, just changed a few sentences that I thought were clunky and added a couple habits/minor skills that I felt needed fleshing out. Very excited to get started!
Here it is! Very sorry for the delay, I had a sudden burst of inspiration today and had to re-orient my character idea essentially from the bottom up. Spent about 6 hours straight working on it! I may very possibly make some minor adjustments or word edits tomorrow, but for now, I must sleep 😅
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Excellent! I'm leaving for work soon, but I'll try and get out a CS ASAP!
I'm tentatively interested in joining, if there's still room! Have an idea for a woodsman-turned-adventurer and part-time bounty hunter descended from the old Barbarians of the North. Definitely more civilized than your average tribesman, but favors a fist or axe over a gun whenever possible.
Once past the gate, Brennen's apparent wariness, earlier directed toward the Goblins that skulked after them, seemed to only magnify in their supposed safe place. Though a humble town carved from the land, Windsgate was still a proper hamlet, a shard of civilization. Stone fountains, wood town houses, cobblestone roads, it all reeked of unfamiliarity. The Pyromancers prided themselves on reclusiveness; for they were guardians of the Flame. Even the most opportunistic of them only went as far as inhabiting half-sunken ruins and long-abandoned forts, slowly reclaimed by the Bog. Each tribe's mighty bonfire could be seen from almost anywhere in the swamps; a sign of shelter and comfort. By comparison, the few braziers and sconces that marked Windsgate's pathways seemed weak and hollow. They burned, but these people did not understand the true essence of Fire.
Brennen either ignored or did not notice the muffled laughter that followed after the two of them, no doubt from the gate guards that let them pass. Indeed, the two of them made a motley duo, to say the least, both of them drawing the attention of nearly every man, woman, and child that walked past. Who were they? The townspeople may have asked. Savages from the grim north woods? Barbarians from the cragged mountains to the east? Brennen kept his head low, hoping to pretend that the inquisitive eyes that pierced them did not exist.
"A stew sounds wonderful." He finally said, not realizing his hunger until the words left his lips. Scouring his belt, Brennen's fingers clasped around one of the many hand-stitched pouches that adorned his person, bouncing it lightly in his hand, accompanied by the distinct clanking of coins. Money was an odd commodity to him, though he was not foolish enough to dare brave the outside world without carrying some with him. It was good fortune that kept the Goblins from splitting it all amongst themselves. A side-effect of greed, most likely.
"To the tavern, then!" Brennen declared, his voice more confident, if only slightly.
Brennen either ignored or did not notice the muffled laughter that followed after the two of them, no doubt from the gate guards that let them pass. Indeed, the two of them made a motley duo, to say the least, both of them drawing the attention of nearly every man, woman, and child that walked past. Who were they? The townspeople may have asked. Savages from the grim north woods? Barbarians from the cragged mountains to the east? Brennen kept his head low, hoping to pretend that the inquisitive eyes that pierced them did not exist.
"A stew sounds wonderful." He finally said, not realizing his hunger until the words left his lips. Scouring his belt, Brennen's fingers clasped around one of the many hand-stitched pouches that adorned his person, bouncing it lightly in his hand, accompanied by the distinct clanking of coins. Money was an odd commodity to him, though he was not foolish enough to dare brave the outside world without carrying some with him. It was good fortune that kept the Goblins from splitting it all amongst themselves. A side-effect of greed, most likely.
"To the tavern, then!" Brennen declared, his voice more confident, if only slightly.
Brennen let out a short chuckle at Vah'lux's remark, though could not hide his own uncertainty as they followed the path that led to the town. There was a wariness to every step he took, as if he were walking toward a confrontation. There were only a few villages that brushed the grassy border of the Bog, their inhabitants reclusive and suspicious. But those who were aware of the Pyromancers talked of them with disdain. Brennen's giant companion was right: magic was a contentious force to begin with, treated as either a high art, lowly trick, or even demonic power depending on one's perspective. As such, Brennen took care to steer clear of most settlements he came across, preferring to keep to himself in the dense wilds. Sadly, the bristled hairs on the back of his neck followed Vah'lux's suspicion as she glanced behind her. Ordinarily, skirmishers such as these would trail only until the town came into view before promptly disengaging back into whatever sweltering hole they came from. But given the current circumstances, previous behavior was no longer a reassurance.
Keeping quiet for the remainder of the journey, Brennen finally broke the silence with a hushed "There it is." As Windsgate's somewhat-imposing walls came into view. The townsfolk had carved this spot of land by hand, using the fell trees to create a shielded defense from anything that dared challenge them from the outside. Two guardsmen stood watch, militia types, by the look of it; wearing an unmatched assortment of leather and chainmail, leaning on spears likely hewn from the wood found in the surrounding area. One of them sniffled, eyes peering up beneath an ill-fitted helmet to appraise the two of them. While not overtly hostile, there was a glint of misgiving in his dark eyes, likely wondering what would bring two queerly-dressed strangers to him.
"You lot don't look like traders..." The guard motioned his spear towards Brennen and Vah'lux to emphasize his point. "What brings you here?"
Keeping quiet for the remainder of the journey, Brennen finally broke the silence with a hushed "There it is." As Windsgate's somewhat-imposing walls came into view. The townsfolk had carved this spot of land by hand, using the fell trees to create a shielded defense from anything that dared challenge them from the outside. Two guardsmen stood watch, militia types, by the look of it; wearing an unmatched assortment of leather and chainmail, leaning on spears likely hewn from the wood found in the surrounding area. One of them sniffled, eyes peering up beneath an ill-fitted helmet to appraise the two of them. While not overtly hostile, there was a glint of misgiving in his dark eyes, likely wondering what would bring two queerly-dressed strangers to him.
"You lot don't look like traders..." The guard motioned his spear towards Brennen and Vah'lux to emphasize his point. "What brings you here?"
Brennen couldn't help a slight chuckle at Vah'lux's words, initially wanting to make a sly comment in regards to her first statement. However, given the circumstances of their meeting, Brennen decided against it. Cockiness would get him nowhere when he had to be rescued just minutes ago. Regardless, self-sufficiency was a virtue in his culture. His days of total helplessness ended the moment he was weaned off his mother's breast. Though Valaista had blessed them each with the Gift of Flame, the Bog was a dangerous place inhabited by twisted creatures. Their Arts aided them, but those who lacked the proper mindfulness were swiftly overcome.
"Goblins have always been around, but--" Brennen paused, pondering on his next words before speaking. "Their boldness has increased." At this, Brennen rubbed the back of his head through the coarse fabric of his hood, wincing as his fingers brushed across the spot they had clubbed him.
"Orcs and Goblins are alike in only a few ways, but those ways bode misfortune for anyone else. They're disorganized, aggressive, and self-serving. But every so often, one with a little ambition takes over and then you have an army. They never last long, but..." Brennen's mouth twitched, clearly thinking of the untold horrors that a Goblin raid would inflict.
Taken out of his thoughts by the woman's large hand clapping against his shoulder, Brennen couldn't help the slight stumble in his steps from Vah'lux's clearly superior strength. "Smaller in stature, but certainly not helpless...ordinarily." Brennen spared a slight chuckle. "There should be a small town not far from here...a few miles to the West. The Goblins couldn't have taken me far, so we should still be in the right area. It's walled off, has a small militia, should be somewhere safe to stay temporarily while we figure out a plan."
"Goblins have always been around, but--" Brennen paused, pondering on his next words before speaking. "Their boldness has increased." At this, Brennen rubbed the back of his head through the coarse fabric of his hood, wincing as his fingers brushed across the spot they had clubbed him.
"Orcs and Goblins are alike in only a few ways, but those ways bode misfortune for anyone else. They're disorganized, aggressive, and self-serving. But every so often, one with a little ambition takes over and then you have an army. They never last long, but..." Brennen's mouth twitched, clearly thinking of the untold horrors that a Goblin raid would inflict.
Taken out of his thoughts by the woman's large hand clapping against his shoulder, Brennen couldn't help the slight stumble in his steps from Vah'lux's clearly superior strength. "Smaller in stature, but certainly not helpless...ordinarily." Brennen spared a slight chuckle. "There should be a small town not far from here...a few miles to the West. The Goblins couldn't have taken me far, so we should still be in the right area. It's walled off, has a small militia, should be somewhere safe to stay temporarily while we figure out a plan."
Trickery? Brennen at first looked confused by the word. Then - if only for a moment - indignant. What was the trickery in fire? Fire was warmth, and light. A shining beacon that stood vigilant against peerless dark. His lips twitched ever-so-slightly under his hood, as though he was measuring what to say. The flash of anger that briefly overtook him disappeared as quickly as it had come. Offense was not intended, and he would not respond with it.
"The Sorcerers that navigate the lands outside may wield magic with a guileful hand, intent to deceive. But the Fire we wield is primal...heretical. Not drawn from arcane tomes and spell-books, but from ourselves." To emphasize his point, Brennen cupped both hands together, letting a sliver of flame - no bigger than a candle - manifest in his palms. "It is more than just magic." He said, this time looking up to Vah'lux. "It is a part of me." At that he smiled, almost softly, as if in reminisce.
Returning to the present once more as they reached the bank of the river, Vah'lux warned of the land's unsteadiness as she leapt upon the muddy sand, using her weapon as a foothold. Nodding once, Brennen followed in suit, showing ease-of-movement that spoke to his upbringing. The Bog was filled with all manner of deep pools and shifting ground. The first mistake many would-be-conquerors made was bringing horses into such a treacherous land...
"It is safe to part ways." Brennen heard her say, turning to see her nod in his direction. This was a farewell. Though Brennen's instincts agreed with her sentiment, something else in him fought against that, prompting him to, for better or worse, go against instinct.
"I still owe you a debt." He replied, pausing to let the words hang in the air. "I'd have been dead by now, were it not for your timely rescue. That's something I take seriously." Though he said nothing else, his intent was quiet clear.
"The Sorcerers that navigate the lands outside may wield magic with a guileful hand, intent to deceive. But the Fire we wield is primal...heretical. Not drawn from arcane tomes and spell-books, but from ourselves." To emphasize his point, Brennen cupped both hands together, letting a sliver of flame - no bigger than a candle - manifest in his palms. "It is more than just magic." He said, this time looking up to Vah'lux. "It is a part of me." At that he smiled, almost softly, as if in reminisce.
Returning to the present once more as they reached the bank of the river, Vah'lux warned of the land's unsteadiness as she leapt upon the muddy sand, using her weapon as a foothold. Nodding once, Brennen followed in suit, showing ease-of-movement that spoke to his upbringing. The Bog was filled with all manner of deep pools and shifting ground. The first mistake many would-be-conquerors made was bringing horses into such a treacherous land...
"It is safe to part ways." Brennen heard her say, turning to see her nod in his direction. This was a farewell. Though Brennen's instincts agreed with her sentiment, something else in him fought against that, prompting him to, for better or worse, go against instinct.
"I still owe you a debt." He replied, pausing to let the words hang in the air. "I'd have been dead by now, were it not for your timely rescue. That's something I take seriously." Though he said nothing else, his intent was quiet clear.
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