Shu
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Username history
- Shu 6 yrs ago
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Shoopuf,
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Bio
A little about me…
• Female (She/Her) (Cisgender)
• Pansexual
• Thirty years old.
• An America-born Eurasian. (Of Han Chinese and Dutch descent.)
• US Central Time Zone
• Casual & Advanced are my vibes.
• My writing interests are manifold.
• I tend to prefer 1x1’s but I never shy away from a great group RP.
• Ask for the Discord.
Current Roleplays…
• NO MERCY WRESTLING LEGENDS My long-running wrestling career 1x1 roleplay with @Shoopuf.
• ~ BLACK FLAGS OF THE ABECEAN ~ A swashbuckling RP set in the universe of The Elder Scrolls.
Extras…
• My catalogue of characters. (The new one.)
• My old/original catalogue of characters.
• SANDSTRIDERS world and lore.
• A Thousand Legends world and lore.
Group Roleplays that I have GM’d;
Most Recent Posts
Oh, for the sake of Mask… Iliskra thought as she crossed her arms and sighed aloud at Leon’s action. So much for complete discretion.
Ibdur had walked up beside Leon, hands on his axe hafts at the ready. The four local men looked between themselves and then at Leon, two of them letting out raspy laughs while the other two stared in aggravated disbelief. The larger of the latter looked at Leon with squinted eyes and a nasty sneer, half slurring, “Well… aren’t you the brave dandy fellow? Think you can just buy away our evening table for cheap with a threat stuck to the bottom of the tag?”
“‘Ey now,” grumbled the other of the more serious two, “look… we were about to leave anyway. Just… let ‘im have the table, Durgal.”
“Shove off, then,” the man Durgal said, tottering up from his chair to full height, which was almost a head above Leon, “I’ll be damned if some… whatever he be… is going to just try and tell me about like this. Even the captain has better m-manners…”
“Just stuff it and let’s go… you know what the captain said about anymore f-f-fights o-on land…” the other man said, lifting up from his own chair and putting a hand on his fellows’ breast in a show of retraining.
Durgal snorted and swatted the hand away but grumbled, “Fine.”
As he and his three fellows started around the table the large man pressed his pointer finger into Leon’s chest threateningly. “Ye should be thanking Tymora I have a strict captain and too light a head r-right now. You had best hope we not meet a-again.”
The four cleared away and headed for the door, Iliskra standing beside Leon now with her arms crossed firmly over her chest and one brow raised sharply.
“Leon, we are trying to remain unseen as we can be.” the half-elf chastised.
Nevertheless, Ibdur, Iliskra, and Leon had a table now, though Iliskra doubted the three would be up for long. All she wanted was a meal, a drink, and a bed. She looked around and noted that the place was rather empty given the size of it and the circumstances outside. There were maybe a dozen or so other patrons spread about tending to their plates and flagons in solitude. The upside of this was that there was likely a room available for the night.
Ibdur had walked up beside Leon, hands on his axe hafts at the ready. The four local men looked between themselves and then at Leon, two of them letting out raspy laughs while the other two stared in aggravated disbelief. The larger of the latter looked at Leon with squinted eyes and a nasty sneer, half slurring, “Well… aren’t you the brave dandy fellow? Think you can just buy away our evening table for cheap with a threat stuck to the bottom of the tag?”
“‘Ey now,” grumbled the other of the more serious two, “look… we were about to leave anyway. Just… let ‘im have the table, Durgal.”
“Shove off, then,” the man Durgal said, tottering up from his chair to full height, which was almost a head above Leon, “I’ll be damned if some… whatever he be… is going to just try and tell me about like this. Even the captain has better m-manners…”
“Just stuff it and let’s go… you know what the captain said about anymore f-f-fights o-on land…” the other man said, lifting up from his own chair and putting a hand on his fellows’ breast in a show of retraining.
Durgal snorted and swatted the hand away but grumbled, “Fine.”
As he and his three fellows started around the table the large man pressed his pointer finger into Leon’s chest threateningly. “Ye should be thanking Tymora I have a strict captain and too light a head r-right now. You had best hope we not meet a-again.”
The four cleared away and headed for the door, Iliskra standing beside Leon now with her arms crossed firmly over her chest and one brow raised sharply.
“Leon, we are trying to remain unseen as we can be.” the half-elf chastised.
Nevertheless, Ibdur, Iliskra, and Leon had a table now, though Iliskra doubted the three would be up for long. All she wanted was a meal, a drink, and a bed. She looked around and noted that the place was rather empty given the size of it and the circumstances outside. There were maybe a dozen or so other patrons spread about tending to their plates and flagons in solitude. The upside of this was that there was likely a room available for the night.
“My thoughts are that we all need a hot meal, a pint, and a good nights’ rest to consider everything in detail tomorrow.” Iliskra said flatly as she and her two male counterparts trudged off into the night.
It did not take long for Iliskra, Leon, and Ibdur to find the Dragon’s Tail tavern. The deeper into the southern side of the city that the three went the more orderly things were. Derelict burned out houses, abandoned shops, and streets littered with fly infested corpses were replaced by lively cottages and apartments, “Open For Business” signs, and guard posts. The three had slipped past the outermost guard post with ease - despite Ibdur and his clanking armor - and found themselves within a “safe area” as it were. Vendors hawked from street side carts, courtesans lingered on the corners seeking “clients”, and even little street urchins frolicked about seemingly without fear.
“It seems Shagarm knows how to keep a reign on folk.” Iliskra had remarked, noting the heavily equipped squads of soldiers that clomped down the middle of the streets and could even be seen barging into houses and questioning people who cowered on their knees in front of their quivering families. Even as motley and assorted as the occupiers were they maintained something of a uniform - namely brilliant red plumes from their helms, red sashes across their chests, and emblems of either slanted glaring eyes or a curled fist on their shields and breastplates. For mercenaries and former bandits and thieves this is a very… organized lot. Iliskra thought unnerved, noting the attentive nature of the posted guards and the professional flawlessness of marching units. The citizens still out in the early evening obviously shared the wariness of the new arrivals but none interfered in any way with the force at large. Aside from the obvious repercussions - such as the example made of the two bound men dangling from a hastily assembled gallows on a street side - Iliskra imagined most of these good folk appreciated the return of order per se. Even if it was tyrannical in obvious sight.
The Dragon’s Tail was nestled into a small walled-in square, lit up with lanterns and echoing from within of music, cheers, whistling, drunken bellows, and the flowing conversations of many. The half-elf, dwarf, and human stood now outside the front door which was watched over by a single man in a suit of chainmail with a cudgel at his hip.
“Go on, in,” he encouraged with a yellowed grin, “just don’t draw blood.”
It did not take long for Iliskra, Leon, and Ibdur to find the Dragon’s Tail tavern. The deeper into the southern side of the city that the three went the more orderly things were. Derelict burned out houses, abandoned shops, and streets littered with fly infested corpses were replaced by lively cottages and apartments, “Open For Business” signs, and guard posts. The three had slipped past the outermost guard post with ease - despite Ibdur and his clanking armor - and found themselves within a “safe area” as it were. Vendors hawked from street side carts, courtesans lingered on the corners seeking “clients”, and even little street urchins frolicked about seemingly without fear.
“It seems Shagarm knows how to keep a reign on folk.” Iliskra had remarked, noting the heavily equipped squads of soldiers that clomped down the middle of the streets and could even be seen barging into houses and questioning people who cowered on their knees in front of their quivering families. Even as motley and assorted as the occupiers were they maintained something of a uniform - namely brilliant red plumes from their helms, red sashes across their chests, and emblems of either slanted glaring eyes or a curled fist on their shields and breastplates. For mercenaries and former bandits and thieves this is a very… organized lot. Iliskra thought unnerved, noting the attentive nature of the posted guards and the professional flawlessness of marching units. The citizens still out in the early evening obviously shared the wariness of the new arrivals but none interfered in any way with the force at large. Aside from the obvious repercussions - such as the example made of the two bound men dangling from a hastily assembled gallows on a street side - Iliskra imagined most of these good folk appreciated the return of order per se. Even if it was tyrannical in obvious sight.
The Dragon’s Tail was nestled into a small walled-in square, lit up with lanterns and echoing from within of music, cheers, whistling, drunken bellows, and the flowing conversations of many. The half-elf, dwarf, and human stood now outside the front door which was watched over by a single man in a suit of chainmail with a cudgel at his hip.
“Go on, in,” he encouraged with a yellowed grin, “just don’t draw blood.”
Iliskra, Leon, and Firoz met Elthel and Willory downstairs. Elthel revealed there had been one man downstairs passed out drunk that Willory dealt with. Firoz asked if there had been anything of note in the basement to which Willory said it was mostly just trash and assorted junk save for a few kegs of ale that he insisted they leave with.
“After we finish here, yes.” Elthel stated which pleased the halfling.
“What is there left to do?” Iliskra asked.
Elthel turned her head sharply, saying, “We want all the time we can gain for ourselves. We need to hide away the bodies of Gunalar’s men and make things seem… orderly as the usual here. Should anyone come here and find Gunalar’s men dead and he nowhere to be found it will spur his cohorts.”
“We should return to the alley you say you were trapped in and dispose of Gunalar’s body.” Firoz stated.
Elthel nodded, her eyes darting about in calculation. “Firoz, return and gather three of our number and bring them here. And then you and I will go to do away with Gunalar’s body. Willory, you and the others must hide the bodies here as best you can.”
“Any suggestion?” Willory asked.
“How many kegs of ale did we see? Eight?” Elthel asked, rubbing her chin.
“Y-Yes…” Willory stammered.
“Dismember the bodies and stuff them into the kegs and seal them. Anything that cannot fit inside you can toss into the fireplace or oven.”
“No!” Willory barked shrilly making everyone but Elthel wince back from him and look around nervously.
“Do as I say!” Elthel immediately snapped with a scolding point of her finger.
The halfling recoiled at her retort and then began to sulk but gave a nod of affirmation.
“And remember to salvage their weapons and armor.”
Another solemn nod from the downtrodden halfling.
“What about the chest we emptied upstairs?” Firoz asked, clutching one ear.
“Lock it back up. If you cannot then the others can stow it away in the basement.”
“I will set the crossbow trap back before we leave.” Firoz added.
Elthel nodded and then looked back to Iliskra and Leon.
“Your companion is out front, posing as a guard. We, as you can see, have much left to do this night. You handled yourselves well for the most part.”
“I am glad you think so.” Iliskra replied, stuffing her newly acquired sword, wand, and gemstones into her bag of holding.
“Zilaster will without doubt wish to speak with you soon. And I must admit we may have more to talk about as well,” Elthel lowered her hood for the first time, letting her thick red hair fall free around her shoulders and face, “the Dragon’s Tail tavern has rooms for rent. It lies in the center of this side of the city, you will see it. The owner pays his protection to Shagarm and keeps the place in running order. I will meet you there the morning after tomorrow - if you are interested in working with us further. And making solid coin.”
Iliskra nodded in understanding and looked to Leon.
“And just in case you happen to get the idea of going to Shagarm’s people - or someone else - with word about us,” Elthel smirked, “Zilaster has already been moved from beneath Yanoriim’s store and the underground passage sealed. And we do not take kindly to betrayers.”
“After we finish here, yes.” Elthel stated which pleased the halfling.
“What is there left to do?” Iliskra asked.
Elthel turned her head sharply, saying, “We want all the time we can gain for ourselves. We need to hide away the bodies of Gunalar’s men and make things seem… orderly as the usual here. Should anyone come here and find Gunalar’s men dead and he nowhere to be found it will spur his cohorts.”
“We should return to the alley you say you were trapped in and dispose of Gunalar’s body.” Firoz stated.
Elthel nodded, her eyes darting about in calculation. “Firoz, return and gather three of our number and bring them here. And then you and I will go to do away with Gunalar’s body. Willory, you and the others must hide the bodies here as best you can.”
“Any suggestion?” Willory asked.
“How many kegs of ale did we see? Eight?” Elthel asked, rubbing her chin.
“Y-Yes…” Willory stammered.
“Dismember the bodies and stuff them into the kegs and seal them. Anything that cannot fit inside you can toss into the fireplace or oven.”
“No!” Willory barked shrilly making everyone but Elthel wince back from him and look around nervously.
“Do as I say!” Elthel immediately snapped with a scolding point of her finger.
The halfling recoiled at her retort and then began to sulk but gave a nod of affirmation.
“And remember to salvage their weapons and armor.”
Another solemn nod from the downtrodden halfling.
“What about the chest we emptied upstairs?” Firoz asked, clutching one ear.
“Lock it back up. If you cannot then the others can stow it away in the basement.”
“I will set the crossbow trap back before we leave.” Firoz added.
Elthel nodded and then looked back to Iliskra and Leon.
“Your companion is out front, posing as a guard. We, as you can see, have much left to do this night. You handled yourselves well for the most part.”
“I am glad you think so.” Iliskra replied, stuffing her newly acquired sword, wand, and gemstones into her bag of holding.
“Zilaster will without doubt wish to speak with you soon. And I must admit we may have more to talk about as well,” Elthel lowered her hood for the first time, letting her thick red hair fall free around her shoulders and face, “the Dragon’s Tail tavern has rooms for rent. It lies in the center of this side of the city, you will see it. The owner pays his protection to Shagarm and keeps the place in running order. I will meet you there the morning after tomorrow - if you are interested in working with us further. And making solid coin.”
Iliskra nodded in understanding and looked to Leon.
“And just in case you happen to get the idea of going to Shagarm’s people - or someone else - with word about us,” Elthel smirked, “Zilaster has already been moved from beneath Yanoriim’s store and the underground passage sealed. And we do not take kindly to betrayers.”
The only thing to be found in the wardrobe was a mess of dirty clothes and worn boots. Iliskra looked under the bed and found only more empty bottles and undergarments - the latter of which made her shudder - and on realizing there was nothing more Firoz started to work on the chest.
“It seems Gunalar was quite mindful of intrusion into his room.” Iliskra nodded towards the only bedroom window which was not only tightly boarded up but had a wicked-looking bear trap set on the floor just below it.
“The half-orc was the smartest of his band. Which does not say much.” Firoz chuckled as he rattled the lock against the chest in his efforts to pick it.
It did not take long for Firoz to get the chest open, the lock clattering to the floor followed by a loud creak as the lid was raised. Iliskra peeked over his shoulder to gaze at the contents within. There was a single bulging sack that clinked of coins which Firoz quickly pulled from the chest. Most of the rest of the contents within were miscellaneous - a keen-looking short sword, an amulet bundled in its own cord, a few trinket gems such as quartz and pearls, and a suspicious-looking wand. Iliskra quickly grabbed the wand and stepped back before Firoz could protest, though he did look over his shoulder at her with a raised brow.
“The gold goes to us,” Firoz quickly asserted as he stood, “and I will take this amulet as well.”
Iliskra reached back into the chest and took the short sword from where it lay. The blade was fine and dangerously sharp and the hilt and pommel sturdy and blunt. The blade felt strangely perfect in her hand, as if it were the finest sword ever made and that it was forged just for her. It was most likely enchanted, which meant that even if Iliskra or Leon neither wanted it they could sell it for a fair amount of coin. Iliskra scooped up the gems and left the amulet to Firoz. As the half-elf approached the doorway, sword and wand in each hand, she looked up and her eyes instantly widened.
“Firoz, the stairs!”
Coming up the stairs, just rounding the last flight, was a crouched man dressed in the same tattered clothes and cheap armor padding as the rest of Gunalar’s gang. Most likely he had heard the talking upstairs or found his dead fellows below and came up to investigate. When he saw Iliskra and heard her shout he impulsively drew his sword and came charging up the rest of the stairs - straight into Leon’s line of attack.
“It seems Gunalar was quite mindful of intrusion into his room.” Iliskra nodded towards the only bedroom window which was not only tightly boarded up but had a wicked-looking bear trap set on the floor just below it.
“The half-orc was the smartest of his band. Which does not say much.” Firoz chuckled as he rattled the lock against the chest in his efforts to pick it.
It did not take long for Firoz to get the chest open, the lock clattering to the floor followed by a loud creak as the lid was raised. Iliskra peeked over his shoulder to gaze at the contents within. There was a single bulging sack that clinked of coins which Firoz quickly pulled from the chest. Most of the rest of the contents within were miscellaneous - a keen-looking short sword, an amulet bundled in its own cord, a few trinket gems such as quartz and pearls, and a suspicious-looking wand. Iliskra quickly grabbed the wand and stepped back before Firoz could protest, though he did look over his shoulder at her with a raised brow.
“The gold goes to us,” Firoz quickly asserted as he stood, “and I will take this amulet as well.”
Iliskra reached back into the chest and took the short sword from where it lay. The blade was fine and dangerously sharp and the hilt and pommel sturdy and blunt. The blade felt strangely perfect in her hand, as if it were the finest sword ever made and that it was forged just for her. It was most likely enchanted, which meant that even if Iliskra or Leon neither wanted it they could sell it for a fair amount of coin. Iliskra scooped up the gems and left the amulet to Firoz. As the half-elf approached the doorway, sword and wand in each hand, she looked up and her eyes instantly widened.
“Firoz, the stairs!”
Coming up the stairs, just rounding the last flight, was a crouched man dressed in the same tattered clothes and cheap armor padding as the rest of Gunalar’s gang. Most likely he had heard the talking upstairs or found his dead fellows below and came up to investigate. When he saw Iliskra and heard her shout he impulsively drew his sword and came charging up the rest of the stairs - straight into Leon’s line of attack.
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