Zinzie didn't often listen to voices in his head. He usually had more pressing mattered to attend to. Secret meetings in mysterious forests didn't overly concern him. To be honest, he wasn't even sure where the Black Forest was. But here he found himself, laying in the muddy floor of his prison, hope lost. A voice promising him change sounded strangely promising. However, he was still locked away in a horrible little cell.
The cell, the place he had called home for the past fourteen months, was dark and dirty as always. The floor of the cell was nothing more than a pit of mud, not even fit for pigs to wallow. The cold water that was dumped on him about once a week as his 'bath' had mixed with the dirt floor to create an unholy concoction of wet earth. In the darkness, it never dried. Zinzie usually found himself covered in it.
After finding the strength to pull himself up off the squishy ground, he staggered over to the one place that kept him sane. On the outside wall of his cell, there was a small, barred window. If he stood on his tiptoes, he could see out into the forest that surrounded his isolated prison. The window was about ground level, allowing him to, if he became desperate enough, snatch up insects that wandered too close to eat. There was a juicy, plump cricket sitting just outside of his reach. Zinzie watched it as it crawled away, back into the forest. The sunshine looked beautiful this morning. The birds could be heard singing. He wished more than anything to be enjoying this morning with his family; he friends. He let out a soft sigh and began to sing again. Singing always seemed to help.
"I'm so far from where I'm from
I don't know where I've gone
Lord, I'm five hundred miles away from home
Away from home, away from home
Away from home, away from home
Lord, I'm five hundred miles away from home
Not a shirt on my back
Not a penny to my name
Lord I can't go back home this a-way
This a-way, this a-way
This a-way, this a-way
Lord I can't go back home this a-way
Don't have much longer left
Even if I go in death
Lord, I'm a-going home, someday.
Someday, someday
Someday, someday
Lord, I'm a-going home, someday..."
He grasped the bars of the window and used them to hold himself up. Zinzie believed he had counted two days since the guards last gave him food. His legs were beginning to shake underneath him, but he didn't want to sit back down in the mud. He rested his chin on the edge of the window and looked out, wandering if, by some strange chance, if he was in the Black Forest. Suddenly, a bird landed just a foot away. Zinzie jumped, but managed to hold in his yelp. The bird had a nut in it's beak, which it began to repeatedly strike against a rock in the dirt. Zinzie watched with fascination, until his more primitive side took over.
He let out a shout, scaring away the bird, and snatched up the little acorn. The shell was already half busted, letting him open up the rest and devour the nut inside. It wasn't much, but it might keep him alive. He then leaned his back against the wall and looked down at the broken pieces of shell. What now? He was still hungry. Perhaps he should have grabbed the bird instead...Then an idea struck.
Zinzie made his wobbly way over to the barred door of his cell and stuffed the nut shell into the latch. He hoped that, if and when they ever opened the door to give him food, the door wouldn't catch the lock. It would be a while before he could test his wackjob theory, however. Hours went by with not so much as a peep out of thieves that lived in the base. Then, finally, the door at the top of the dungeon stairs opened. Zinzie, out of habit, pressed against the back wall. It could be a guard with food, or it could be a guard who's had a bad day and was wishing to take it out on him. However, the form of one of the smaller men appeared, a piece of moldy bread in his hands. He muttered something under his breath as he opened the door and tossed the bread inside. It landed in the mud with a wet 'plop', and then the door was closed behind him as the guard went back up the stairs. He didn't even bother to check if it had caught.
Zinzie made a dive for the bread and ate it down in seconds. There had been a time when he turned his nose up at the rotten food they gave him, but now he'd eat just about anything. When he was done, he looked up at the door with wide eyes. Could it be? He was almost scared to look. Slowly, he got up and crept towards the cell door, then gave it a light push. It didn't budge. He scowled and shoved it. The door creaked open, making Zinzie jump back. What if they heard it? The possibility was ridiculous at best, but to a man who spent the last year in a dark, muddy hole, it was terrifying.
Slowly, he crept out. As he left the cell, his bare feet touched solid ground for the first time in a long time. He didn't see any other way out of the dungeon than the one offered: the door. He barely had the strength to fight his way out if needed; hell, he barely had the strength to waltz out without a hitch. Zinzie slunk to the top of the stairs and took the door handle. He paused, gave a short prayer to whatever god was watching, and pushed the door open just a crack. He didn't hear any voices. Perhaps they had all gone to rob. He pushed the door a little more and poked his head out. By some miracle, the coast was clear. The base wasn't large. It was mostly three rooms, and the one before him was empty. Zinzie wasted no time as he snuck out and slithered towards the door. He couldn't believe it; all that time and escape was so easy. It seemed that he had tried anything and everything. Everything but placing a nutshell in the latch.
As the front door creaked open, Zinzie somehow found the strength inside of him to run. He ran even though his entire body hurt. He ran with the fear of being caught and locked up again. He gritted his teeth and kept up his pace even as his lungs caught on fire. The forest underbrush tore and cut at his body, but after what he'd been through, it was mere child's play. The only clothes he wore, his tattered pants, were already torn halfway to pieces. His skin, which clung tightly to his bones, was just as tattered. His body was covered in a rainbow of bruises. Large cuts and open wounds were an angry red with infection. His back bore scars that only a cruel whip could leave behind. With one black eye and a swollen lip, he looked like hell itself. His hair was long and untrimmed, the lively curls all but flat. Mud caked itself in it, as it did everywhere on his body.
By the time he reached civilization, Zinzie couldn't run any further. As he slowed, he found himself dizzy and exhausted. He staggered out of the woods and onto the cobblestone street. There were people. Real, live, actual, non-threatening people! Zinzie called out to them for help, but most gave him one look and hurried off. None of them wanted to be bothered by a half naked man covered in mud.
"Please help me," Zinzie cried. "Somebody, please." His legs gave out on him, bringing him to his knees. He felt utter distraught. He made it so far, only for the cruel social status that was 'look out for number one' to doom him. He crumbled on the street, no more strength and out of hope. People on their way to run errands just walked around him, looking down at him as if he were a rat that had crawled from the sewer.
(The tune of Zinzie's song is Five Hundred Miles. You can look it up if you're curious enough :p )
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So how many characters are we looking for before we start?
I'll just put witchhunters then =P The point is that people who would be enemies is other circumstance come to this nation and thrive in relative peace.
And yes, if someone has enough willpower, or even earplugs, they can fight his enchantments.
And yes, if someone has enough willpower, or even earplugs, they can fight his enchantments.
Met is gonna make a character that's kinda' out there.
Dunno if this is acceptable or not.
Guess we'll see.
Name: Zinzie Searoby
Gender: Male
Alignment: Mage
Covenant/Affiliation: King of the Wandering Nation
Personality: Zinzie is a colorful man. He's kind, generous, and devoted to his people. His attitude is almost always upbeat, cheerful, and humorous. Charming, if you will. He was raised to see all men as equals, no matter their affiliation, background, or strife.
Power Description: Zinzie is particularly gifted at vocal enchantments and potion making. He can enchant a person or animal by singing to them, usually telling them what he wants them to do in his song.
His potion making abilities are more straightforward. If given proper ingredients, he can whip up an array of potions for anything from growing hair to curing certain illnesses.
Spells/Abilities:
Because of his singing enchantments, Zinzie is very skilled at coming up with songs off the top of his head. He sings fairly often, whether or not he is enchanting.
His enchantments are used to persuade others to do what he wants. He could tell them not to hurt him, to give him money, to go to sleep. However, he cannot force someone to do something that they are too completely against. He can't make a person kill someone, or commit a crime, or something of that nature.
His potion making abilities are limited to what ingredients are available. Most potion ingredients are expensive or rare. Without proper equipment, he can't do much.
Other skills:
Zinzie enjoys cooking.
Other: Zinzie knows that mages are hunted for using magic, but he himself has never been persecuted for it. He may soon find that claiming to be the king of a mythical nation will not grant him immunity.
Appearance: Zinzie is a tall and lanky man, standing at 6'5". He's not particularly strong or muscular. His skin is an olive tone, his hair dark brown and curly. His eyes are brown and slightly slanted. Zinzie's clothing style is loose and colorful. He likes shiny jewelry and trinkets. Scarves and feather. Beads and rings.
History: Zinzie hails from a long line of vagabond kings. His father and his grandfathers before him were all kings of the Wandering Nation. When his father passed, it became his duty to lead his people. So far, he's done pretty well. His subjects adore him and the way his treats them. He sees his people as equals. He eats the same food they eat, sleeps in the same dirt they sleep in. He doesn't hold himself any higher than they. Like his father before him, he's a humble leader.
His leadership skills came to be tested fourteen months ago, when a band of thieves attacked his nation. The thieves had clearly been planing for months. They came in hoards, hoping to capture the alleged treasures the nation possessed. His people fought back, but when Zinzie saw his people dying, he had to take action. He ordered them to flee. His mages put their abilities together in order to make the entire caravan disappear in the blink of an eye. Half a million people were gone in the blink of an eye. However, it was too late for their king, who had been captured by the thieves.
Zinzie was drug back to the thieves' base, far from where his people had been. They locked him up and tried to torture the location of his people out of him, but to no avail. They kept him under lock and key, with hope that he would someday crack and tell them. With fourteen months past, Zinzie holds his silence. He will manage to escape, at the beginning of the RP for the record.
Dunno if this is acceptable or not.
Guess we'll see.
Name: Zinzie Searoby
Gender: Male
Alignment: Mage
Covenant/Affiliation: King of the Wandering Nation
Personality: Zinzie is a colorful man. He's kind, generous, and devoted to his people. His attitude is almost always upbeat, cheerful, and humorous. Charming, if you will. He was raised to see all men as equals, no matter their affiliation, background, or strife.
Power Description: Zinzie is particularly gifted at vocal enchantments and potion making. He can enchant a person or animal by singing to them, usually telling them what he wants them to do in his song.
His potion making abilities are more straightforward. If given proper ingredients, he can whip up an array of potions for anything from growing hair to curing certain illnesses.
Spells/Abilities:
Because of his singing enchantments, Zinzie is very skilled at coming up with songs off the top of his head. He sings fairly often, whether or not he is enchanting.
His enchantments are used to persuade others to do what he wants. He could tell them not to hurt him, to give him money, to go to sleep. However, he cannot force someone to do something that they are too completely against. He can't make a person kill someone, or commit a crime, or something of that nature.
His potion making abilities are limited to what ingredients are available. Most potion ingredients are expensive or rare. Without proper equipment, he can't do much.
Other skills:
Zinzie enjoys cooking.
Other: Zinzie knows that mages are hunted for using magic, but he himself has never been persecuted for it. He may soon find that claiming to be the king of a mythical nation will not grant him immunity.
Appearance: Zinzie is a tall and lanky man, standing at 6'5". He's not particularly strong or muscular. His skin is an olive tone, his hair dark brown and curly. His eyes are brown and slightly slanted. Zinzie's clothing style is loose and colorful. He likes shiny jewelry and trinkets. Scarves and feather. Beads and rings.
History: Zinzie hails from a long line of vagabond kings. His father and his grandfathers before him were all kings of the Wandering Nation. When his father passed, it became his duty to lead his people. So far, he's done pretty well. His subjects adore him and the way his treats them. He sees his people as equals. He eats the same food they eat, sleeps in the same dirt they sleep in. He doesn't hold himself any higher than they. Like his father before him, he's a humble leader.
His leadership skills came to be tested fourteen months ago, when a band of thieves attacked his nation. The thieves had clearly been planing for months. They came in hoards, hoping to capture the alleged treasures the nation possessed. His people fought back, but when Zinzie saw his people dying, he had to take action. He ordered them to flee. His mages put their abilities together in order to make the entire caravan disappear in the blink of an eye. Half a million people were gone in the blink of an eye. However, it was too late for their king, who had been captured by the thieves.
Zinzie was drug back to the thieves' base, far from where his people had been. They locked him up and tried to torture the location of his people out of him, but to no avail. They kept him under lock and key, with hope that he would someday crack and tell them. With fourteen months past, Zinzie holds his silence. He will manage to escape, at the beginning of the RP for the record.
So you HAVE to play someone under 18 if you don't want to be a teacher?
"Where is it that we are traveling?" Zinzie asked after Kayetan's question. He knew he wished to return home, but he didn't exactly know where home was. When his people disappeared, they never got a chance to tell him where they were going. He supposed he could just wander around until he found them, but that could take years. He needed magic. Magic far stronger than what he was capable of.
He didn't recognize the seal, which was not surprising. As much as he traveled, he never really interacted with people outside of his caravan.
He didn't recognize the seal, which was not surprising. As much as he traveled, he never really interacted with people outside of his caravan.
breathofarda said
That's usually when I stupidly join multiple RPs and just about die because they take forever to start. Then they all start at the same time.
Story of my fucking life.
I tell you what, I'm so bored I'm about to beat my brains out. It turns out when I'm not working or studying, I don't know what to do with myself.
I imagine if I had four legs, I'd be pretty good at running too =P
So how big are these wolves?
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