POOHEAD189

The Sunday Group

Suave Sorcerer

Name: Malcador 'Mal' Ravenwood

Age: 26

Appearance: Mal has been blessed with an all encompassing charm. His eyes are a deep sea blue that could drown someone that looked too deeply, his hair is thick and as black as a demon's heart. He sports a small ponytail tied up to trail down his neck, effortlessly worn. His jawline is positively distracting and his nose perfectly proportioned, only matched by his lean body of trim muscles. He tends to wear business casual, generally a vest over a white dress shirt and well tailored pants. It's only when he has to appear in public, however. He much prefers his darkly colored mystic's robes. The one quality that he could do without is a brand on his left shoulder he is careful to cover up at all times; four great black marks, like claw marks of black ink, the demon Mephistopheles cursed him with the day they met, long ago.

Concept: Suave Sorcerer

Powers/skills:

Magic: Specifically manipulation of mystic forces, the unbinding of curses, and conjuration. Most spells beyond cantrips require a conduit like a staff.

Devilishly Handsome: Malcador is easy on the eyes, and he'll use it to his advantage.

Lying: He's a swindler and a consummate liar. His voice is smooth and enticing, and that only helps his normal ease at the vice. He had to learn it growing up in and out of the streets and foster care.

History Degree: Graduated from the University of Stanford with a Bachelor's.

Staff: (See Jaelle Codona's sheet)

Things Your Character Wants to Happen (probably wont):

Parents: The rescuing of his parents souls.

Jaelle: The rescuing of Jaelle's spirit.

Things You as a Writer Wants to Happen (Maybe will):

The Book: Finding the Book of Black Malediction. Some say it could bind Mephistopheles and call upon greater demonic powers to control the diabolic.

Tomb: Finding the Tomb of Merlin. Merlin was a hero of his growing up, and he very much wishes to locate and appropriating his trappings and teachings.

Ladies: He likes 'em

Writing Sample? - Excuse me? Please. I am a professional now.

Character Opinions

Eleanor Tregellen: What do I think of Ellie? I don't really think of her more than "boss," though I respect her dedication to her responsibilities. Usually people ask her what she thinks of me, and she gives the loveliest anecdotes of my prior activities. Still, I could do without the hard looks once in awhile. I might have my problems, but I work as hard as anyone. Still, she's smart as a whip. Oh, I have to admit Eleanor does have grand taste in women. Emma is a amazing.

Jaelle Codona: Sometimes I cannot imagine my life without her, and other times I wish she was tangible so I could smack her on the back of the head. She reminds me of a few girls I knew at the orphanage, in that capacity. Still, I care about her. She's a very good friend, even if she can be a giant pain in the ass.

Fynn Laplace: A stand-up fellow, a bit boorish sometimes, but he is certainly amusing and a fine friend to have when there's need for either software or hardware. Truth be told, we get along quite well, even if he gives a few snide comments here or there. Keeps me on my toes.

Primrose Chastain: Primrose is bit posh, but I admire her dedication for her attempt at bringing aristocracy to the 21st century. I could never date her, though. A bit too much like me for my tastes. Still, glad to have her on the team.

Alyx Bellamy: She is a delight! We don't always see eye to eye, but I love it when she gives me and anyone else a piece of her mind. It gets my own mind racing and brings me back to reality if I'm distracted by anything unbecoming. It's always fun making her smile, but I admit I try not to read for too lengthy of a time at the office, because I get the feeling a locked door won't keep her away if she needs something, and I feel more guilty avoiding her than I do Eleanor.

The Sunday Group

Would def be my second!

@Hellion

Good taste as always, Hellion

The Sunday Group

Question 1

St. Augustine, Florida. The oldest city in the united states. Gators, ghosts, and spanish gold!

Question 2

What Liv said. Mal and Jaelle have been there roughly two years.

Cold Iron and Black Powder

Torm withstood the barrage of banter like a stone hit by crashing waves. He had to admit they got clever with a few here or there, but the information was what he really listened to. The religious turmoil he saw was strange, but he wasn't used to Altdorf. It was probably naive to think it wasn't too farfetched, but when you were used to have slathering beastmen bearing down on you, a wild crowd wasn't a large obstacle to overcome.

"What makes you think this is being orchestrated?" Torm asked, glancing at Hannah. The woman was fun, at first glance. He just needed to make sure he kept a cool head or there might be another controversy for the wolves. He wondered what exactly she had done, that Koneig referenced, but he wasn't going to pry.

"Not orchestrated, lad." Koneig corrected, waving his hands gently in a theatrical fashion Torm needed to get used to. "Merely bein' pushed into what was already about to roll downhill, catch me drift? And how I came by that information is me own business, but let's say I've got lil birdies all across the city, ay? Birdies that need to stay at their posts and can't go scroungin' around like you lot. A few of me birds here or there have seen the same fellas at different spots, disappearin' and reappearin' to vandalize both the sigmarite and ulrican statues, fer starters. And that's just the tip o' the iceberg."

"If I'm doing this, I'm taking my hammer." The Knight declared. Koneig didn't look like he wanted to argue the point.

"By all means, son. I just din't want ye to waltz in here drawrin' too mean gazes. Out there? It's all you two." He said, indicating the two of them like they were old chums. Behind Koneig, the waitress reappeared and refilled their glasses, putting down another bottle, asking Torm if he wanted anything. The knight shook his head. He wanted a drink, but he needed to focus. Once she waltzed off, he continued.

"Any leads then?" Torm asked, and Koneig put a finger to his lips.

"Go' an address fer ye, or at least a street name. I wrote it down and gave it to our very own Hannah, seein' as she's an educated gurl." He remarked with a wink. "And you two start once we finish these drinks. Oh an, you get a few krowns courtesy of the city guard for damages and rooms if ye need them, the money of which I'll give to the one of yous I can trust." He promptly plopped a coinpurse in front of Torm. "Don't go back to the Chapter house unless you need to. You might be a white wolf, but we want as few strings attached as possible, hear?"

Cold Iron and Black Powder

Koneig had walked in like he had just purchased the property, Torm noted, who followed in a manner that could only be described as a guarded confidence. Wary of a trap, but with no doubt that whoever leaped at him was going to die without much trouble. He didn't have his warhammer with him, after Koneig spent a good twenty minutes arguing with him on how they were just going to meet his contact and Torm's new partner, but the White Wolf still sported his armor and wolf pelt cloak, and he bore an arming sword at his side. The place looked snug enough, and though a White Wolf stood out wherever one went, the establishment was busy enough and with a number of flamboyant and important people judging by their dress that this could still potentially be a social visit.

What Torm wasn't expecting was the tirade and bleeting from what would usually be considered a relatively attractive woman, next to another woman who seemed far more composed. Unfortunately, it looked like the loud one was the one he would be working with, judging by her outburst. Well, he was used to boisterous men and clangorous spaces, this wasn't going to be anything new. But he had expected someone more...professional.

"None taken," he said, his worries more on their chances than any insults she might have thrown.

"Hey, hey," Koneig said, putting an arm around Hannah's shoulders. It was supposed to be reassuring, and while there was no threat, Torm noticed Koneig stood like he had all the power in their dynamic. Judging her more closely, her hands were rougher than most maidens and she had a few bruises on her not easily seen from a distance. He didn't think Koneig did the work, but he could tell she was probably roped into this as much, if not more so than Torm himself. Koneig continued. "Look, ye don' know wot you got tae deal with out there, eh? This lad has the muscles, the armor tha' can stop any pistol shot unless they get close enuff fe' him to bash 'em over the 'ead, yeah? And if ye need to get into high en' places, he can march ye roight in. Quick, easy, simple, luv."

Torm raised an eyebrow. He knew he didn't have a choice, his superiors shoving him out the door to help this Koneig on his errands. But he would take some convincing on why he needed her, not that she likely wasn't good at what she did. He rubbed his goatee, always speaking when he likely shouldn't, his masters would say.

"As long as you don't yell wherever we go, I think we'll live." He remarked, and it was difficult to tell if it was an awkward man making an earnest statement or a clever man having a jab. Dietricha looked away, holding her mouth as if to sneeze, though it was easy to see she was hiding a smile. In the background another call for drinks rang out by a merchant who appeared to have made a huge sale the day previously, judging by their drunken raucousness a table over.

Koneigh gave a long pause, and then wheezed out a laugh that sounded like a steam whistle. "Oi, brilliant! You two are going to be 'avin fun, I can tell ye that! Just make sure it's not all fun, mind. Now, do either of ye need to be briefed?"

"You haven't told me what we're doing, yet." Torm said, and then gave his best impression of the upfront, gap-toothed man. "'Skulkin' abowt' isn't a description."

Wh40k: One Step Beyond - A Rogue Trader Adventure (Closed)

Grimri "Ironclad" Haldengard

Grimri wasn't posh or prim. He had been fighting on the front lines for most of his life, and even before he went out to face the galaxy as a mercenary. But religious ceremonies he had a certain respect for, particularly when it came to machinery. He wasn't a mechanicus bastard, but he appreciated their ideals and their ingenuity. Grimri stood up from his seat next to the diminutive and annoying ratling, placing a hand on his broad chest and inclining his head. Unfortunately, he was so short it looked as if he was still sitting, so it likely went unnoticed.

Of course, the Sororitas got a bit preachy, and he wasn't overly fond of screaming platitudes, so he sat back down and kept quiet, looking like an angry and particularly ugly bulldog. A bulldog with forearms seven inches thick and bigger at the biceps. He looked over at the ratling, who seemed to be using his mouth for both speaking and eating, when his windpipe was stuff with beef, bread, and gravy. He half-listened, hearing some talk of specialized ratling pies.

"Ok," Grimri said without showing enthusiasm. He enjoy a good meal as much as the next bloke, but right now he wanted the money that could get him some grub. As Roald had placed the food between them and then inhaled the entirety of it, Grimri raised his big hand and ordered another from whatever servitor or servant was on this blasted ship to get him some of the same. Once it was placed before him, he guarded it like a jealous dog and ate it greedily, knowing he'll need all the energy for when they land sometime soon. Once finished, he dabbed his mouth and gave a clap at the finished liturgy.

"Oi! Good show!" He called to the make-shift procession of the crew, still chewing the last bits of the beef. He spoke more quietly now, louder than a whisper but still respectfully low in volume, bumping the ratling with his strong elbow. "Mercifully shorter than I'm used to, thank the ancestors."

Now all they had to do was point him to what he needed to shoot or bludgeon to death and he would be golden.

Dungeoncrawl: I Want to be a Wizard!

@POOHEAD189 oh awesome! Hope you're making the most of it. Are you a relaxation type vacationers or like activities?

@Mae

Oh if depends, tbh. Most of the time I love staycations and this is no exception, though next few vacations I'll be traveling to the beach and overseas after that!

I also apologize for filling your OOC with personal stuff, haha.

Dungeoncrawl: I Want to be a Wizard!

@POOHEAD189@Dark Cloud honestly looking forward to turning my brain off after work today and mucking around, but I appreciate the love guys <3

@Mae

I'm on vacation, so I feel. Just rest easy :)

Dungeoncrawl: I Want to be a Wizard!

@Mae Take your time, friend <3