POOHEAD189

Blades of the Blood Coast

Beren squared his jaw, but otherwise he didn't show any discomfort as she helped him. Well, this was a bit familiar for him, but he was glad for the help. Lack of sleep and injuries made him a bit more weary and a bit less wary. Not in a drunken way, say, but definitely less scrupulous. He looked to take her confession as a former priestess without doubting her. Then again, he also had no reason to think she would lie. His burns were not too hazardous, but it was plain to see how they would take some time to heal.

"Thank you. I have some salve in my room. I can run it on tonight," he told her, taking a long drink from his jug. A small trickle of water escaped his lips and slid down his strong neck, the long droplet making a turn at every indention of muscle down his torso. He put the jug down, turning and listening attentively as pondered her question about the Sultana.

He flinched when she pressed into the wound, looking at her with a perplexed smile. "You're right, it's strange, but it wasn't 'cause of me." He chuckled, not realizing she had likely added pressure through an absent mind. After another wince, the pain died down again. "Whatever it was, it used to be a man. And after I killed it...it smelled like one. Except for his arm. It stunk of sulfur and rot."

She began sliding the bandage over his wound, and when he tried to help she gently but firmly kept his hands down.

"I think it had something to do with the calamity. The thing that hit the forest north of here." He admitted, and then glanced behind him to make sure there was no chance of others listening in. His voice was soft. "I saw what was in it... I know the stench of hell. The calamity brought it and whatever attacked reeked like it."

He shrugged his muscular shoulders. "As for the Sultana, I'm not big into gossip. Like any high borne thrown out of their home, she probably has six others, or she's looking to take the city back somehow. If she's still alive, at least. You might be able to find out more in the slums, but I wouldn't go in there without someone to watch your back."

He ran his hand over the bandage, feeling a dull ache but otherwise finding he felt better. "I can go with you if you want." He offered.

Blades of the Blood Coast

Right! I'll have a post from Faeril up today or tomorrow. He's definitely gonna want to talk about everything that happened last night. Since a giant demon attacking the group seems fairly important

@DrRtron

Nice!

Blades of the Blood Coast

Ok we got a new person here, people! Let's get those posts so they can post too!

This will also be the last time I do a 'bump' before I start assuming people are no longer interested, btw.

Tricksters and Theives: A Warhammer RP

Neil wasn't quite as shaken up as Emmaline, but it was likely because it was a bit more surreal to him. He still didn't know quite what to make of it all, even if he did feel real fear in the house. Sigmar help him, he was glad Emmaline and he got out in one piece. Perhaps it was a sign by the gods for them to stop their thieving ways? He doubted that would happen even if it were true, but the possibility was one of many that popped into his head.

"Hey, hey look at me," He whispered, cupping her cheek and sliding his hand into her hair, cradling the back of her head so she would turn to him. Luckily, neither of them had the mind to steal anything. For all he knew, any of their jewelry had the tainted warpstone on it. Then again, if it had, the Witch Hunter might have noticed them at dinner. "Emm, let's just take a second. That was just surprising, but I'd rather go back into a house of mutants and cultists than face a dozen charging orcs, but we survived that, right?"

He placed his forehead against hers gently. "You know Witch Hunters better than I do. We can send an anonymous letter telling our friend at the restaurant that there is weird happenings going on at a certain location and he'll barrel right in and expose it. But worse comes to worse, we do lie for a living. You're still a Justicar if you want to be, and I promise it's not just to get you into the suit again." He gave a boyish smile and tickled her nose with his. "Whatever we decide, all it'll take is to lie or plant some evidence pointing there, and it'll be ousted in no time."

Nanowrimo 2021

I'll definitely give it a go, this year. I'll fail, but dammit will I try.

Blades of the Blood Coast

Everyone now has 3 choices. You all now know that, in some way, you are connected to whatever that thing was that attacked. Your choices are:

• Speak to Isolde about her encounters outside
• Speak to one another or Raddek on the situation (and eat, of course)
• Go out and continue your search for the booze or information on the deposed Sultana.

P.S. The thing that came from the boat, was not what you just faced.

---

Lupita Nereva

Lupita Vashine Nereva

Half Elf - Vrettonia | 101 | Female

Appearance

Lupita stands tall even for a human woman at 5’9 with a slender build more fit for dancing at extravagant feasts than navigating the dangers of the blood coast. She has long, silky brunette hair with streaks of gray, the only indicator to her age. Well, that and her laugh lines. Her eyes are a starlight blue and her skin is mocha colored.

Personality

Lupita is a kind and spirited person. She finds something to be passionate about in most things and has a knack for making the people around her passionate as well. In her younger days she would leap into a problem head on and figure it out as she went. Age has made her a little more cautious, though that flame still burns deep in her chest.
Indeed, her life experiences have taught her to use that flame in different ways. She’s manipulative when she needs to be. Decades of entertaining castles full of pompous nobles and ignorant kings will teach you a thing or two about working a room. It will also instill a gauge of character in a person and a healthy amount of distrust. Still, if one can win Lupita over they will have a friend for life.

Background

• Profession: Minstrel, Entertainer, Jester. Lupita’s profession has many different names.
• Class: Bard
• Heritage: Lupita was born to artisans in the service of Vrettonian nobility. Privileged enough to have a meal in her belly every night but still poor enough to have to dance to the whims of those who were born lucky.

History

History

Lupita was born in a bustling city in the heartland of Vrettonia. Her father was a rather famous elven musician who had decided to settle down for a few years in a place with steady pay. Her mother was a human painter and family friend to local nobility that ruled the city. So Lupita grew up in a better environment than most. From a young age she was taught music and literature and her parents took her along to many social event among the nobility. That is where they made their living after all.

Lupita’s brother, Verzan, was born a few years after her and together they learned the ways of the noble court. Lupita took to it like a fish to water. She was a natural extrovert and had a talent for picking up on the moods of the court. Verzan was more like their mother, quiet, contemplative and extremely talented with a brush. Lupita’s early years were good. Her family became widely regard as some of the best artists in the city and this opened doors all across the kingdom to go and perform.

Lupita took up the violin though her father favored the harp. She thought the violin had a much more grounded sound while the harp sounded too…well, elven. A little pretentious, which always made her father fume when she told him. Lupita spent her mid to late twenties traveling across the kingdom and then the continent, playing for royal families and filthy rich merchant clans. But her fame and skill also made her a target. Among the muscians of Vrettonia there is a sort of unspoken danger. In the nation’s history, many bards had doubled as spies and assassins. This translated over to their…professional life.

Lupita soon found out that to truly be a successful musician, she had to learn to defend herself. There were a number of attempts on her life going into her late twenties and all of those ended with a knife in the throat of the assassin. They were usually some young thing, no doubt new to the business and trying to get a leg up without doing the work. By the time she was in her early thirties, Lupita found she was getting tired of the game. Constantly looking over one’s shoulder didn’t exactly contribute to a relaxing life. Then she met Logan.
A traveling Thaegar warrior. He was all muscle and mystery and they hit it off instantly. Initially he was only passing through town. Then he stayed a week. Then two. Then three. Soon the pair was dating regularly and the wandering warrior was looking for work in the Lupita’s home city. Her father tried to dissuade her from marrying a human. She could understand where he was coming from. Lupita’s mother was graying and having joint pain. Her father looked like he hadn’t aged a day in thirty-one years. And in comparison to a human life span, he really hadn’t.

Still, there was something about her traveling warrior that she couldn’t shake. A year later they were married. Two years and they had a son. At four years a daughter. Before she knew it, Lupita had a whole family. And she didn’t mind it one bit. Life was good again. Lupita performed in her home city for the noble families and her now husband, Rothan, served as a bodyguard for a merchant. They made decent money together and their kids had a good, peaceful life. Occasionally Lupita had to dodge an assassination attempt but by this point she had become skilled in recognizing would be killers and handled the issue before it got out of hand.

For many years Lupita lived with her family without incident but as she got older, she began to truly understand what her father was warning against. By the time their kids were old enough to make their way in the world, Rothan was almost sixty years old. Lupita looked barely a day over thirty. But she ignored it, this passage of time. She still loved him and that was all that mattered. Then before she knew it, she was burying the love of her life. He was seventy when he died. A disease had swept the city. It was over in just a few weeks but it had done its damage.

Lupita was a grandmother now but she looked the same age as her kids. Maybe even a little younger. But she wouldn’t abandon her family. She would look after them as long as she was able to. Which brings us to the cause of her exile. Lupita’s great granddaughter, Elizabeth, was following in her footsteps. She wanted to be a famous musician just like her grandmother. But unlike Lupita, Elizabeth chose to gain fame through more…violent means. Like so many bards who attempted to kill Lupita in her youth, Elizabeth tried to kill a rival. Her target, who was a bard, also happened to be the heir of a noble house.

Obviously Elizabeth botched the assassination and was captured and was sentenced to beheading. When Lupita learned of this she rushed to her friends in the nobility, asking for an audience with the assaulted family. Pouring every bit of charm she had in her, Lupita bargained for her great granddaughter’s life. The best the family could do was exile. Lupita knew the young thing wouldn’t survive on the blood coast. So she offered herself instead. It was a bold move the family had no choice but to respect it. Reluctantly, they agreed to the terms. Elizabeth was returned to the family. And Lupita was put in chains and got on a carriage bound for the blood coast…

Reason for Exile
To save her great granddaughter from beheading, Lupita offered herself to clean the slate. The offended nobles exiled her to the blood coast.

Motivation
At this point? Survival. Lupita would like to eventually return to her family but she is unsure if that is even possible. Regardless, she’s survived assassins and the perils of dealing with nobility. And negotiated her and her grand daughter out of a beheading. The blood coast won’t take her. Not without a fight.

Capabilities

Attributes
You've 9 to choose from. Once you do, put them in the correct area.
Combat

• Daggers

Intelligence

• Literacy
• Culture
• Linguistics

Charisma

• Musical Instrument
• Singing
• Charm

Health

Faculties

• Intuition

Agility

• Stealth

Mysticism [0/1]

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Equipment

You will leave this blank, since you are a prisoner.

Money

For simplicity's sake, we're doing 3 types of coinage. Royals (Gold), Lordlings (Silver), and Commons (Copper). They each measure 20 of the previous coinage. 20 Lordlings makes a Royal and 20 Commons makes a Lordling. You have no money as of yet.

Languages

- Vrettonian
Northern

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Character Relationships

Your characters have only known one another for the week it has taken to move your wagon through the Inner Kingdoms, with only a marginal time to speak. This is where you put your initial thoughts of each character, and you edit these as their opinions change. This also includes the Merc NPC.

Character Name

Character Name

Character Name

Character Name

Character Name

@POOHEAD189

@Su

Neat character! Accepted!

Blades of the Blood Coast

All of this commotion brought the thing's head up like a serpent, sinuous and undeniably quick. Even as the knife Faeril had thrown sailed above its head, Raddek grabbed the hilt just before the demon-man kicked out at his shin, buckling him. Raddek was an experienced warrior, grimacing but using his fall to add to the momentum of his next stab. Had it been anyone else, he would have impaled the thing, but this opponent wasn't human, at least not fully. The rags it wore rippled as its body twisted grotesquely, bones snapping and cartilage ripping as it invariably snaked out of the way of the knife and coincidentally, Faeril's bolt. The blade bit into the timber, the thing rearing its arm back to strike. Raddek attacked like a cornered animal, swinging his off-hand arm like a club, striking the thing in the chest and sending it careening down the stairway.

Beren didn't wait. He sprang over Raddek's prone form like a hunting cat, pushing off the wall with his feet and speeding after the creature like a dwarven steam train. He wasn't seen for another hour, evidently having slayed the thing on the streets, but in that time, Emmaline's magical eyes saw something strange. Something with horrifying implications.

On the mutant, there was a vibrant aura of magic ensconcing him, but a kind that hurt the eye to look upon. Once she looked at Raddek, or Faeril, or even down at herself, she would see a smaller version of the same aura, and a mark on her hand that glowed like hellflame. It had the visage of a gaping maw wrought in blood, and though it couldn't be seen with normal eyes, her glowing vision caught it as easily as a lighthouse seen from a ship at midnight.

---

The next morning...

The Ubrico Soldati was closed.

Not for the patrons, of course. But for any outsiders. Jonathan Albrieco had been woken up quiet rudely in the night, and wailed like a ghost when he saw the broken tiles upstairs and the overthrown chairs and broken tables from the mutant's flight. The crew spent a good hour speaking to the innkeeper and convincing him of what happened and that they weren't vandals. Eventually he believed them, but until they found him some beer, they were paying full price for breakfast and keeping out of trouble or they would find a different place to sleep.

The slim barmaid from yesterday, who's name was Isolde, came into the establishment with her face white with shock. Explaining she had found a large group at the site of a ravaged corpse, and then another just like it with a similar group of onlookers. This one merely a mile away, towards the docks. She did not explain the details, but as she began to help cook everyone breakfast, she was free to speak to after she served the food. Raddek had risen first, sitting alone to ponder, though there were four chairs around him to fill. He watched the window as he sipped his drink, waiting for his food and Isolde, who arrived to place it down before him.

Beren sat at another table, further down the room on the otherside of the door. Knowing he wouldn't see any strange faces today, he also hadn't expected everyone else to be up so early, his shirt stripped off and his ass on the chair. A clay pot of cold water and a cloth lay on the table, and he winced as he tried to clean his burns, until Emmaline pulled up a chair next to him to help, which surprised him. "Sorry, I thought we- I didn't know we were going to do this so soon."

The statement had an innuendo he hadn't caught until he said it, which colored his face. He wasn't embarrassed in such a state last night, but during a social situation, once could tell he was a bit abashed. He tried to find his tongue. "So, what was it you wanted to talk about?"

The Elder Scrolls: City of Anvil

I can't join immediately, but in a week I probably will be very interested.