McHaggis

The Serbian Sickle (Post-Apoc.)

I would be interested in this.

[High Casual] In death, sacrifice. [Dark Fantasy]

Yeah my rogue playthrough of 2 was bitchin'! But I only play rogues when I feel like opening the locks in the origin story/beginning bit of 2 because I need to loot all the things. :3

Finite Incantatem [AU Harry Potter RP] – ALWAYS OPEN!

Ooooh yeah, for anyone who has a character (but not yet posted) or wants to join but is worried because it's already started, it's easy enough just to retcon yourself into the meeting or be late for it.

(Sorry not sorry for the double-post)

[High Casual] In death, sacrifice. [Dark Fantasy]

Arcane Warrior 5ever. I'm just so happy that Knight-Enchanter is similar.

[High Casual] In death, sacrifice. [Dark Fantasy]

All my mage characters have been blood mages apart from my Inquizzy, because it's not possible </3
Best spec.

Finite Incantatum [AU Harry Potter RP]

Anything, anything at all! The rebel forces aren't going to turn anyone away, so it's whatever you feel like playing. I will note that we have a suspicious lack of werewolves, if you wanted something unique, but it's not necessary or required.

Finite Incantatum [AU Harry Potter RP]

Tiny bump - we're still open and in the beginning stages for anyone who wants to join <3 There's also more information in the OOC for those interested.

Finite Incantatem [AU Harry Potter RP] – ALWAYS OPEN!

Accepted. I may consider upping the character limits per player later, if required. (I myself am going to be taking advantage of GM privilege and having another one, maybe~)

Finite Incantatem [AU Harry Potter RP] – ALWAYS OPEN!

1st December, 1999 – Aldenberg Manor
Siobhan MacFusty

Gently, Siobhan ruffled the feathers of the dazed owl and set it out the window on its way, rolling her eyes. Sometimes, she believed that the Ashes and the Order were just opposite sides of the spectrum, neither of them right. While Dumbledore's pacifistic ways hadn't always worked, neither did she feel the uncompromising violence of the new organisation was any better.

“Aye... but... My vote is we investigate the claim of this supposed turncoat, as peacefully as possible,” she said, closing the window again and then the curtains before returning to her seat beside Kyle. “We go to this Tottenham Road, we secure the area... I could even take some of our emergency portkeys if necessary. The Death Eaters are far from stealthy. If there's too many of them for us to take out, I guarantee we'd know about it.”

Staring at Ronan, Siobhan nodded to herself. “I say we don't enter with our – ah, guns-a-blazing?” After a slight pause over the Muggle saying, she continued, “We ask him his name. We chat, if not over important, top secret business, we show him that we're interested in an agent – Merlin knows it's been too long since we've had any fresh information on the Dark Lord's whereabouts. Then, we offer to take him to one of Jia's 'boltholes', and discuss matters further there.”

Ronan chimed in quickly, “I would like the location of the safehouse beforehand, so I can be present for the... discussion.” He tugged absently at his collar, stretching out his almost-immobile leg. The Floo would not be a fun experience. “More importantly, however, killing him on the spot for non-compliance would be worthless. Depending on whether we agree on going or not – I personally am for it – if he refuses to accompany you to Glasgow after a peaceful 'chat', you should bind and capture him. We want information, not a corpse.”

[High Casual] In death, sacrifice. [Dark Fantasy]

Ostagar was a place that Morven could not feel safe in. It was a theme common to human settlements – she knew that much – but the overpowering sense of dread was not as strong in other places, like Denerim or Lothering; the hustle and bustle of city life was understandable but even that was undeniably different from being a part of an army.

The keep itself, a crumbling ruin that miraculously managed to stay standing, contributed quite a lot to her unease. The darkspawn hordes that lurked in the wilds, the Korcari Wilds of all places, might break through the cracks in the walls, sneak in, kill her in her sleep without her any the wiser.

It was a foolish worry, Morven knew. The guards and scouts would see them first, relentless in their protection of the camp. She was far more likely to be stabbed by a deserter from her own ranks, or – she thought morbidly as her legs dangled over the soon to be battlefield below – for her to simply trip and tumble over the edge.

Dusting herself off as she pulled herself to her feet, ornate staff creaking in protest under her weight, her eyes narrowed at an approaching figure – an elf in civilian gear, likely a messenger. “Warden Talathrien?” he asked tentatively, reminding her of a mouse about to be set on by a hawk, and Morven stared unblinkingly at him.

It often paid to be so obviously Dalish, at least when it came to intimidation. Weak-willed city elves often seemed to be either frightened or in awe of her, depending on what stories they had been told as a child. Feral savages or free-spirited heroes? She didn't much care about those tales any more.

“Yes, that's me,” she said eventually. “What is it?”

“Warden Garviel would like you to meet with him near the King's Tent, and to prepare yourself to venture into the Wilds today.”

Morven didn't sigh, but the minutest of frowns spread across her face. “It's rather short notice isn't it..? Perhaps we're being sent on a fool's errand?” she mused aloud, more to herself, before nodding stiffly at the messenger. “Dismissed – I have received the message, and I'll let you deliver it to the others. Run along, now.”

Turning to pick up her satchel of herbs and poultices and scattered Dalish scrolls – her only belongings in the camp – she looked out once more over the landscape below. No doubt she would be down there soon enough, fighting with the human soldiers, unless what Garviel had in mind took priority.

At least she would get to feel nature beneath her feet again in the Korcari Wilds, grass and dirt rather than freezing stone. At the King's Tent and staying a healthy distance away from any group of humans nearby, she made a beeline for her own leader. “Garviel,” she greeted, inclining her head. “Am I the first to arrive?”