Slim Shady

Blood's Jewels (High Casual Fantasy Revolution)

Xandar Markov

Winged Boar in Aren, Askavi

The trip through Aren, Askavi was lonely and tiring to say the least, as being on the run from the law constantly always made you look over your shoulder. Years ago he wouldn't be so worried, a bold and confident man with many allies by his side, now reduced to being a rogue who could have a sword pulled on him if he walked into the wrong place at the wrong time. These days he wasn't as active in his attempts to fight the power, often keeping to himself and doing what he could to survive. Most of the time this was stealing, either discreetly or by force, to get what he needed day to day. His assets that he had on him were all but run out, and the rest were taken by the Queen herself. Greedy bitch. His name was torn apart as a traitor, and while some still thought highly of him, many were now under the thumb of the twisted Queens. Whether they believed it or not, if Xandar was an enemy of the Queen, he was the enemy of his own people. Time was running out, and he was running very low on options. The reason he was walking through these parts was to find the name of the person by the name of Randalvar. His friend Handovar, who was a close ally for years, had told him of his father and the Winged Boar before his death. Randalvar was a Warlord who owned the place, and while he was hear mostly to spread the news of Handovar, hopefully he could help him with his movement. Or at the very least, find him a decent healer. A few days back he had attempted to assassinate one of the twisted Queens. This had proven unsuccessful, clearly being outnumbered, and he had managed to get out of their alive and not under capture. Not without a fight, and he did manage to damage or kill people within her inner circle. However, the injuries he sustained were serious enough that he could not go about his business as usual. He needed help, as much as he hated the idea.

As the storm as about to pour from the heavens, Xandar stepped through the entrance of the Winged Boar. A terrible thunder shook as he stepped in, some rain already pouring outside as his figure was lit up by the lightning. Standing at 6'7" and weighing 247 pounds of intense muscle, it was clear that he was an Eyrien warrior by that fact alone. However, Xandar wore a black cloak that covered most of his large frame, his hood covering the majority of his face in it's shadow. When the lightning flashed, his dark gold skin on his face was revealed for a split second. His much brighter gold eyes stared out from behind his hood, slowly scanning the room around him. There were two individuals in his immediate vicinity, both possessing some aura of power to them. A tiger-eyed warlord prince was holed up in the corner with a mug, and it was clear that this was not the man who he was looking for. That man only got so much as a glare from Xandar before his eyes turned to the older man behind the counter. The purple dusk warlord, this was the man he would be looking for, and he could only assume this was Randalvar. Xandar took a seat on the bar stool in front of the Warlord, making eye contact. There was no doubt in his mind that he had sensed him and who he was, especially when he pulled back his hood just enough to reveal his face to Randalvar.

"I assume you're the owner of this bar, Lord Randalvar." he said in a hushed tone, sighing softly. "I'm not here to start trouble as many have done before I can imagine. I come bearing news that I wish I did not have to give, but you deserve the truth. Your son, Handovar, was a close ally of mine and I considered him a brother on the battlefield. However, fate was not so kind to that man, and he died for the cause that he believed in, joining my band. I mourned his loss and avenged him by my own hand, but I try my hardest to try and continue what your son had fought for. Sadly I have been unsuccessful as of late, barely managing staying alive myself as all my men have all but died, left, or been captured. I come here to tell you that your son died an honorable man in glorious combat, and that his will lives on within me." Xandar said, taking a moment of silence as he looked up at the ceiling of the bar. He would give anything to have a friend in this world like Handovar, but Xandar's fate was almost just as cruel, living in this empty world where everybody seemed to be an enemy. Xandar's hands were folded on the counter, and there was a faint glint of sapphire coming from his right ring finger. He let the father take his time to process the information before he spoke again.

"The other reason why I was here to ask you for some information, and I would not be so willing to ask for help if the situation did not call for it. I have some... injuries. Something worse than I can handle on my own. Before I can go on without my agenda, I need to make sure I don't keel over days from now from an untreated injury. You wouldn't know of anybody that could help, would you?" Xandar said, his voice almost a whisper as even he didn't want to hear himself speak these words. He absolutely hated the notion of relying on others to be alright, but at this point there was no other choice. His pride would get him killed one of thee days, and he needed to stay humble long enough to be on his way. "Let's just say my latest escapade did not go exactly as planned."

A few moments later, a woman quite literally armed to the teeth had entered the tavern. To be fair, Xandar did carry three blades, armor, and a bow and arrow. Most of this was concealed by the cloak however, the bow and long swords strapped across his large back, his large sword in the scabbard on his left hip and the quiver hanging from his right hip. However, it was very clear that this woman wanted to be seen armed and dangerous with a sword, shield, and bow. There were markings on her face, and she seemed to walk with a confidence while scanning the room. Xandar gave almost a chuckle, but simply kept to himself as he only looked for a split second before turning his head back to face the bar. The woman had sat near him however, and made it clear that she wanted some alcohol. As one did. He ignored any glance she may or may not have gave him, hearing the sound of the bow clack against the wood as she set it down. If this was one of the Queen's people come to pay him a visit he would lose it, although he very much doubted this was the case. Some random person passing by he imagined. The warlord prince in the corner hadn't spoken a word yet either, and it seemed almost too peaceful to be a normal day. Xandar had a feeling this peace wouldn't be kept long, as the storm would attract more and more business as people looked for shelter and a drink.

Xandar covered his face with his hands, sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose. The barkeep at least hadn't seemed to garnish any hate towards him for what happened to Handovar, but it was a shot in the dark whether the man would be helpful to Xandar or not. These days were getting worse by the minute, and he was half tempted to ask for an ale of his own.

🔵 Venture Academy - Superhero School. (Always accepting.) 🔴

Saturday: Team meeting before capture the flag. Early morning.

It was final the day of capture the flag, and a few days had passed so that students could apply for a spot on each team. There was only a certain amount of spots, however, so the staff picked the students based on their performance in and out of school, among other factors. Once all the applications were in, white envelopes were slipped under the dorm room of each person who had made the event with their team name on it. Every one of you received an envelope under your door, looking to see that your team name was "Blue Team". Evidently, the other team was the red team, and thus the trash talk began all that friday afternoon. Lots of people complained about which team they were put on, if they got picked or not, and trash talking the opposite team. The teams seemed pretty even, veterans and rookies, older and younger, only the best of the best were chosen to compete on this large stage in front of thousands of people. There was a lot of ads and publicity for the event, heroes such as Ghost and Supernova getting interviewed before the event.

Friday, day before the event

Friday was the assembly where both teams were called together so that the rules could be explained. There were two teams, with squads making up 7 people. There were 26 squads on each team, alphabetically assigned, so it was clear that this would be a huge capture the flag game. The map was kept under wraps, but each team had a base with a large flag they had to defend inside the base. It was big enough to it would take a normal person two hands to carry it. Once a flag was grabbed by the opposing team, it would be shown to every single person on both teams via a tracker. Once the flag is brought back to the opposing base, it would count as a point, and a new flag would replace the stolen one. If the enemy team takes the flag from the flag carrier, they must return it to their base right away. The event would last the whole weekend until the time ends, and the team with the most points would win the event.

Other small things were also discussed, such as the safety measures that were in place. Students were allowed to use the full extent of their powers, and even injure classmates to extent, but you weren't allowed to murder your fellow classmates. There were trained staff and medical teams on stand by observing the fighting area and taking those unable to fight anymore. The flags were also not to be tampered with in any way, otherwise the flag would not grant the team points for capturing it. This also was true for defending the flag, but if a defending team tampers with their own flag, the other team will be awarded a point and a new flag will spawn. The superheroes would be wearing newly made costumes with their team color on it. It could be just like their old suit or completely new, but it was important to have the team color in order to establish teammates in combat. Super suits much be worn by participants at all times, or risk disqualifications. Any kinds of weapons, however lethal, will be allowed for this event, according to school regulation for the event. For example, no nuclear missiles.

The assembly was long but it was very informative, and any other questions were fielded by the staff members there. Team captains were also assigned to each team, assigned with helping coordinate their teams and were based on skill and seniority. The area would the capture the flag match was held would be secure, allowing no members to exit the area, unless for medical or extreme purposes. Last but not least, there was an incentive to winning this whole thing, and there would be some kind of secret prize given to the winning team. This was an event the whole world would be watching, many agencies and fans seeing which of their favorite super heroes would come on top. Teamwork, individual performance, and other abilities would be closely watch to see which heroes, win or lose, are the cream of the crop. Winning is the priority, but showing that you got what it takes was also very important for up and coming heroes.

Saturday, Blue team meeting area on campus

It was a small little lecture hall, and there were all the blue team members in attendance. The blue team captains were sitting in the front row, with a black band around their arm to signify this. This would also be the case for the red team captains. A staff member stood at the front of the lecture hall, tapping the mic to get everyone's attention.

"Good morning ladies and gentleman, boys and girls. Today is the day! You will fight for honor, glory, and bragging rights in front of thousands of fans. The pressure's on. You will get one hour to discuss your plans before you are transported to the field. On the field, you will have half an hour to prepare defenses and get a good layout of your home base. Once the signal sounds, the game will officially start. Good luck everyone."

DEAD ISLAND 💀🌴

Cole Anderson

Suddenly, there was a voice echoing over the intercom. It sounded like it was coming from somewhere in the hotel, considering the alarm went quiet when the man spoke. This was certainly bad, especially since the man clarified that it was safe in the control room. Did that mean that there wasn't anywhere else safe in the hotel? Or outside of it? Despite the alarm telling them to all get the hell out of the hotel, this guy wanted them to make it to the security room. He didn't want to stay in this damn hotel anymore, but what choice did he have? He had no idea where to go once he got out. And there was no telling if anymore of these... creatures, out there.

"Well, it looks like that's where we're gonna go. We really don't have any other options." Cole said, looking over to his fellow survivor. She seemed very distressed, vomiting, her hair a mess, quickly packing whatever she could. He didn't blame her, and if it wasn't for the pure adrenaline and survival instincts kicking in, he would be a mess too. This shit was scary. But hiding and being scared wasn't going to save his ass, because it looked like nobody else was going to.

Cole peaked out of the door, looking left and right. It seemed most of the zombies hadn't made it to the top floor, the barricade preventing them. However, that also means they couldn't use the stairs to go down. He remembered there being a fire escape in his penthouse, remembering what the man had said over the intercom earlier.

"It looks like our best bet to get down there is the fire escapes. We may have to do some balcony hopping until we find a good path for getting on the fifth floor. That's 15 floors down. And I have a bad feeling that the farther down we go, the more of those things we're gonna find. Maybe there'll be other survivors too."

Was he really going to go up against these drug infected, sick, mutant humans hell bent on killing him? What if there were more than just two? And what if there were more people in trouble? Could he risk saving them all?

"Come on, let's go. The sooner the better at this rate. Just grab whatever you can as a weapon and stay close to me. As far as I'm concerned, it's kill or be killed once we get down there."

Alinda Williams

Alinda had taken the short time on hand to change into her clothes. Pulling her black jacket over her top and buttoning it, and sliding her jeans over her shorts.

She had heard the voice on the intercom too, and was slipping her sneakers on as she listened. The fifth floor? Fifteen floors down? In a hotel overrun with these psychos? Forget it.

Of course her rescuer was right; what other options were there? No cell phone, no signs or sounds of other people. No immediate rescue effort to be seen. For all they knew this was happening all across the island. They couldn’t just stay here, waiting for a rescue that could be days, or not at all. They needed to find a safer place. The security room was really their only shot it seemed. And if there were others in the hotel that survived, surely they heard the announcement as well. They would be heading to the security room too, surely.

When her new companion mentioned finding a weapon, she rushed over to her suitcase. After rifling about and tossing some clothes to and fro, she pulled a small switchblade from within her bag. She stood and flipped it open with a sharp click, and then closed it back. ”Got this after I left the airport,” she said as she slipped it in her right front pocket”All types at a place like this, and I couldn’t exactly bring my gun from home.”

She reached over and grabbed a bottle of water from her nightstand, and a bag of corn chips, tossing them to her rescuer, since he was the one with a bag. She went ahead and slipped her cell phone into her back left pocket, and grabbed another bottle of water from her bag. She had started to leave when she briskly spun around and grabbed a flashlight from her nightstand.

”Alright,” she said, looking to the man,”that’s all I can really think of. Lead the way, stranger.” she finished, tossing him the flashlight.

"The name's Cole... Cole Anderson." he said, catching the flashlight in his hand. It was weird to him, and he had finally realized that the two literally didn't even know each other. They just met a few moments ago because of... that dead body outside, and now they just agreed they were going to work together to survive. It was weird that in times of need, humans instinctively just banned together. There was no reason for him not to trust her, after all. Hopefully with that switchblade she would hold her own. He didn't know how many things were out there, and there were only so many he could hold off with just MMA gloves on. Speaking of MMA, it just occurred to him that she also had know idea who he was. He didn't know if that was a good or bad thing, and he honestly expected most people not to know about him, being a small celebrity.

"And you are? Just to be formal here, I guess. That, and so I know what to shout to get your attention." he whispered, chuckling and trying to at least make a little light of the situation. The two of them made their way down the hallways, dimly lit by the alarm as Cole flipped the flashlight on. As expected there was little resistance as they made it to his penthouse, swiping his key card and entering his hotel room. Closing the door behind him, he walked over to the balcony and took a good look at his surroundings.

"Holy shit." he said abruptly, flicking off the flashlight and shoving it in his pocket. As far as he could see, there were several crashed cars, a few houses on fire, corpses ripped apart and scattered around the island. Random debris, luggage, and trash thrown everywhere. Although it was clear that some of those corpses were walking around, some faster than others, aimlessly walking around the island. These fuckers were everywhere, and it seemed they were lucky to have been on the top floor and woke up only to the two of those zombies. Would they still be alive and gotten through the night if they were somewhere else?

Cole looked down at the fire escape, and it seemed somebody had already used it, from the broken glass and blood trailing down it. It only went down maybe 5 floors, but it was a start. There were other blood trails on the balcony, but it seemed as though those people had taken a one way ticket to pavement town. He didn't try to see if those body were below him, even though he had a feeling if they were, they either had walked away or eaten like a chicken wing at the bar.

"Let's get a move on then." he said, careful where he was stepping as he walked onto the fire escape. After helping Alinda got on with him, he slowly descended the fire escape. The sounds of alarms, burning fires, and screaming, both near and far, assaulted their ears as they went down. Most of it was coming from the island around them, but some of those screams were also coming from the hotel itself. They knew that their were survivors, but how many were actually safe.

As they got to the 15th floor, the end of the fire escape, it seemed like there were three corpses on the balcony that led to it. One was slumped against the wall, and two others were almost right in front of the stairwell, looking like a few chunks missing from them. Apparently whomever had fled his penthouse party hadn't made it very far. "Oh god... just, watch your step."

Alinda nodded rather blankly,”Alinda, Cole. My names Alinda. I’m a-uh... journalist from New York.” She was still trying to process what was happening. Her panic for the moment was gone, replaced by unsurity and... doubt?
It seemed that she still couldn’t seem to process this. These people overcome with some kind of madness. She avoided looking at the dead man on the floor nearby.

She followed Cole past the now dead woman and to his own suite out of hers. Fortunately there were no more of these psychos to contend with, for now anyway.

Though what little optimism she clung to seemed to dissipate as she heard Cole swear and joined him in looking down below at the chaos. ”Oh my God...” she said bleakly, seeing more of these afflicted people below, hearing screaming and witnessing as the island itself descended into hell it seemed,”They’re...everywhere. The island. What the hell is this? Cole, what-“ she stopped herself from asking. He, like her, had no idea what was happening.

She complied with her new companion as he lead her down the fire escape. It took every fiber of her being to constrict the fear that tried to overwhelm her. Any second she expected one of these blood-washed lunatics to leap from a window and drag her inside, or knock her from the fire escape down to a crushing death.

She took steady breaths as she followed Cole, keeping her arms pinned at her sides as she followed. At the sight of the corpses at the base of the fire escape she had to clench her throat tight to avoid vomiting.

My god! she hissed”Have they been eaten? Are these afflicted people cannibalizing each other?”

She couldn’t bear it anymore, she leaned over the railing nearby and released a torrent of puke over the side, clear and putrid.

Well, it did seem in fact like they were eating each other. He had guessed they were at least biting each other, remembering back to when the large man almost tried to bite him. But to think they were eating each other? It was a lot worse than he thought. Also, it seemed like they weren't attacking each other. Most drug addicts usually didn't care about whether they hit their fellow drug addicts or not. With this some kind of illness? A virus? But to have spread this quickly already... Something much worse was going on here. He wasn't so sure that any of them were safe at this point. This was hell.

"You may want to try and keep some of that left in you. If this island has gone to shit like this, I doubt the McDonald's is open." Cole said, gently patting her shoulder, trying to at least calm her down a bit. If his body wasn't full of adrenaline, he stomach would most likely turn as well. This stuff was just... gross.

As they descended to the balcony he turned on the flashlight, taking a good look around the room. It was small, a bit of a mess, some dried blood. Nothing stalking around the corner anyways. After helping Alisha down from the fire escape, one of the dead bodies started to move. "Alright, hopefully the stairs aren't barred off on this floor. If not we're gonna have to find another... What the hell?' the body creaked and cracked as it turned it's head towards the two of them. It was a middle aged woman in a business suit. Her arm was almost to the bone and her torso was eaten to ribbons, but she slowly shambled over to them, going to get up. The other two bodies, although not as damaged, slowly started to rise as well. The lady made a screaming sound, launching after him.

"What the... how is she even still alive?" he said, seeing her body launch at him. He side stepped out of the way, grabbing the back of her neck and sending her off the balcony. There was a loud screech followed by a sickening splat, other zombies on the ground turning to see what caused the noise. It seemed like her screams attracted some friends, as banging could be heard at the door. The other two zombies were slower to get up, but they were only mere feet away from them.

Cole looked down and saw that their was a balcony down a floor and to the left, although it wasn't close enough to simply jump without risking a 15 foot drop. "Look, we need to get to that balcony over there. I want you to start climbing across, the windowsills are big enough for you to stand on. Just hug the wall, go slow, and don't look down." Cole said, as one of the other two zombies approached. He kicked it square in the chest, causing it to stumble and fall back. Even louder banging could be heard on the door, and it didn't seem like it was going to take much more.

"Look I'll be right behind you, just go. We don't have too many options, and I really don't wanna go back up. This might be the best chance we have."

Alinda just couldn’t process this. That woman, she looked like a corpse. A live, moving corpse. She had to stop herself from freezing up as she saw what she saw, and when this man effectively threw her over the railing. Alinda didn’t know what she felt, aside from terror obviously. Disgust, wonder, additional fear?

She felt weak at the knees as she saw the other two “corpse-people” begin to rise up.

The banging at the hotel door seem to snap her out of her sub-catatonic state along with Cole urging her on. She blinked several times as he directed her on what to do. Climb across window seals huh? Alright, simple... In truth she didn’t care for the idea, but what else could they do? No point in turning back. The door was obviously out of the question, as was a fifteen story drop.

”Right,” she said with forced confidencewe've got this. Climb across and jump, simple. Just... watch our back.” she said, indicating the creatures that persisted back in the room.

”Look, here...” she handed him her knife from her pocket as she stepped up onto the nearby, narrow, windowsill.

”Kill them.” she insisted.

Cole nodded, catching the switchblade in his hand and snapping it open. He watched as she climbed up on the window sill. He really hoped they weren't coordinated enough to follow them, but what other choice did they have? He at least needed to clear the other two in the room. That would give enough time for his new companion to get far enough over where they wouldn't be in any danger. "You're doing great, just keep it up. Don't worry about me."

Although the truth was, he was most certainly worried about himself. One of the two remaining zombies, the one he hadn't kick, charged at him, but instead seemed to throw a punch at him. He blocked, caught a bit off guard by it as the zombie pushed him into the balcony. He now half hung off of it, trying to keep his feet firmly planted while holding the man off of him. The zombie bit into his shoulder, but the leather protected him, the teeth having a hard time piercing the hard leather shell. This gave Cole just enough time to shove the blade right through it's eye socket.

After a few quick stabs to make sure it was dead, the body seemed to pin him against the balcony as the other zombie approached. Struggling fiercely, he managed to slide the body off of him just in time to throw a left hook at his attacker. It stumbled back, and Cole didn't give it any time at all, following up with a clean roundhouse kick, snapping it's neck in an awkward spot and having it lay in a heap. Only moments after this he could hear the sound of the door breaking, holes starting to peak through and soon hands were clawing out.

"Shit." Cole muttered, knowing there were seconds left before that thing burst. He had to risk a jump. All those years of parkour would have to pay off, as he leaned back at the edge of the balcony, hoping to take a running start. As soon as he took a deep breath the door burst open, and several of the things sprinted towards him. Only a mere few feet away he dashed himself, using the railing as a stepping stone before launching himself off the end of the balcony. A hand was mere inches away from grabbing his leg, but now out of the reach of the zombies, he was sailing towards the balcony, hopefully in reach of anything. He extended his arms out as far as he could and managed to catch the bottom of the railing with his right hand. All that adrenaline running through him was the difference, in inches, between living and dying a horrible death.

"Well hey, uh, I made it like I said."

Alinda dropped down onto the balcony, falling to her knees slightly from the impact. She stood briskly and looked back up, the things above snarled and growled, though didn't seem to be leaping after them. Fortunately. All they did was flail about at the edge, roaring in fury and waving their arms at the pair. She looked to Cole then back up abruptly, and then back to him again.
"Knife," she held her hand out ,"you can fight man, I need a weapon."

She hoped they didn't have to do that again. Despite the much needed adrenaline surge, she didn't like the idea of tight-roping along balconies and windowsills while waves of cannibals tore at them. "We need to go, get to the security room. That or... maybe a car? I mean we might could make it to the parking garage. What do you think?" In truth Alinda didn't want to be at this accursed hotel any longer, she just wanted to flee, to get away and maybe find a ship or a plane or some way off of this island now.

"I don't know... I'm more worried about right now and getting out of here alive. Come on, the security room is up ahead."

Tales from Frontier Village: A Rune Factory Roleplay {Always Recuriting/Accepting}

Auron Lockhart

The trading festival was cancelled. Great. Auron sighed as he sat at the local tavern, sitting on a bar stool as he sipped on some rum. At least the weather was a bit nicer here. Auron wore a white dress shirt that was opened and has the sleeves cut off, dark blue trousers and some brown boots. His blonde hair was swept to the side, a bit of a mess in all honesty. He was detailed with going all this way to escort the merchants to their destination. Sadly, monsters have overrun the site and there's been a delay. For how long, he has no idea, but they were to stay in town until they could attend the festival. Being mostly a trading city, the storm coast got a lot of good allies and money from this festival, and a lot of income was depending on it. And so he sat, with nothing to do but sit at the local tavern and waste his day away. Besides training, there wasn't a whole lot to do that he found.

Well, there was gambling, which he had done plenty of. As a coast guard, he had passed lots of times with card games, and it was a great way to pass the time. He didn't gamble all the time, but he was good enough at the game to win some kind of money. And so he sat down at the poker table and bought himself a hand. With a straight face and his sword on his back, the coast guard grabbed his chips and cards and took a good look at them. Hopefully the people around the table didn't make too much of a fuss, because if all his hands started like his first one, he'd be doing quite well for himself.

DEAD ISLAND 💀🌴

Post incoming tomorrow

Blood's Jewels (High Casual Fantasy Revolution)

@Zoey White They are accepting, just hit up the GM with any questions you have and they'll be happy to answer them. I would suggest reading all the rules first.

Tales from Frontier Village: A Rune Factory Roleplay {Always Recuriting/Accepting}

Auron Lockhart

Name: Auron Lockhart

Age: 19

Sex: Male

Race: Human

Appearance:

Auron

Basically that but without the glasses or piercings.

Occupation: Almost like a coast guard. Oversees trade at the port town he lives in, handles any trouble and deters pirates.

Skills: Auron favors physical attacks and hasn't dabbled too much in magic. He's a swordsman at heart, the only weapon he's really used in his line of work. Other than that he's particularly strong, mildly dexterous, and has a bit of stamina and hardiness. From living in a coasal town he has most of the knowledge and skills a sailor or "police-man" would know, such as tying knots, living on the sea and handling a boat, knowledge of the law system, etc.

Description: Born and raised in his how town of the Storm Coast, Auron is a respectable, dependable, and hard working man. He has a strong sense of justice and doing what's right, and he's chosen his career path to fit just that. He does his job well and he puts as much effort as he can, knowing that what he does help's the world around him. Brave, honest, and kind-hearted, he would give the shirt off his back for anybody who needed it, and will always defend those who cannot defend themselves. Nothing was handed to him in life, and he respects others who also work hard in their profession. However, meeting lots of people in the port town of his, he's very open minded.

Point of Interest: The Storm Coast is the home of Auron and a bustling city-state. It makes a majority of it's income off of trade and harvesting fish and the like from the sea. It gets it's nickname from the nasty storms it gets from time to time, making the storm coast not much of a vacation place. Most come and go, but the inhabitants are hardy. Mostly human, they have grown and adapted to hard conditions, and most work a blue collar, working/middle class life.

Tales from Frontier Village: A Rune Factory Roleplay {Always Recuriting/Accepting}

Auron Lockhart

Name: Auron Lockhart

Age: 19

Sex: Male

Race: Human

Appearance:

Auron

Basically that but without the glasses or piercings.

Occupation: Almost like a coast guard. Oversees trade at the port town he lives in, handles any trouble and deters pirates.

Skills: Auron favors physical attacks and hasn't dabbled too much in magic. He's a swordsman at heart, the only weapon he's really used in his line of work. Other than that he's particularly strong, mildly dexterous, and has a bit of stamina and hardiness. From living in a coasal town he has most of the knowledge and skills a sailor or "police-man" would know, such as tying knots, living on the sea and handling a boat, knowledge of the law system, etc.

Description: Born and raised in his how town of the Storm Coast, Auron is a respectable, dependable, and hard working man. He has a strong sense of justice and doing what's right, and he's chosen his career path to fit just that. He does his job well and he puts as much effort as he can, knowing that what he does help's the world around him. Brave, honest, and kind-hearted, he would give the shirt off his back for anybody who needed it, and will always defend those who cannot defend themselves. Nothing was handed to him in life, and he respects others who also work hard in their profession. However, meeting lots of people in the port town of his, he's very open minded.

Point of Interest: The Storm Coast is the home of Auron and a bustling city-state. It makes a majority of it's income off of trade and harvesting fish and the like from the sea. It gets it's nickname from the nasty storms it gets from time to time, making the storm coast not much of a vacation place. Most come and go, but the inhabitants are hardy. Mostly human, they have grown and adapted to hard conditions, and most work a blue collar, working/middle class life.

Blood's Jewels (High Casual Fantasy Revolution)

Xandar Markov

Xandar Markov

"You dare approach me? I hope you've prepared to die."

---

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Character Summary:

Name:
Xandar Markov
Aliases:
Xandar, The Reaper, Defender of Men, The Alpha
Age:
1742 years old
Birthday:
February 3rd
Race/Species:
Eyrien
Gender:
Male
Birthplace:
Askavi - Terreille
Jewel Color (Birthright and Offering):
Birthright - Sapphire/Offering - Ebon-Gray
Class/Caste:
Warlord Prince
Languages:
Eyrien, Common
Occupation:
Rogue Warlord Prince

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Appearance

Height:
6 foot 7 inches
Weight:
247 pounds
Body Type:
Muscular
Eye Color:
Bright Gold
Hair Color:
Jet Black
Skin Tone:
Dark Gold / Tan

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Character psychology

Sexuality:
Heterosexual
Relationship Status:
Single
Personality:
As a man born from a warrior race, coming from a long line of merciless warriors, and Xandar is no exception. His strong physique and features already stand out to the human eye, being even larger than most of his own kind. His tall stature, large gold wings and piercing gold eyes that shine in even the dark reflect his personality in a way. He almost always believes that he should be the center of attention and of the upmost importance. Coming from the only Patriarchal race, this was only natural and instinct for him. The males ruled the household. Xandar will go out of his way to show his dominance and authority, challenging other men who he sees as a threat. Xandar is your definition of an Alpha Male, and his pride is what fuels many of his emotions and actions.

Due to his nature, Xandar can get highly aggressive and angry in some instances, especially on the battlefield. In a society where most disputes are settled by combat, Xandar has a low tolerance for bullshit, and he's willing to fight the person responsible. Many have tried to take his spot and few have lived to regret the mistake.

While Xandar is very much the hugest asshole most people have ever met and quick to draw his sword, this is not to say that he can't be civil. He has matured from his "younger" years, and for those he respects he can be somewhat tolerable, even hold a decent conversation. He even has a bit of charisma sometimes. After all, there are very few things that are stronger than a Warlord Prince's sex drive. He can even be humorous sometimes, even if it's usually belittling others or making very dark and crude jokes.

Under that whole strong, fierce, bust your ass persona, there is a heart deep down there. This often comes in the form of his more protective side. The only thing that enrages him more than challenging him, is to hurt the ones he cares about. There is a reason his name is "Defender of Men", and while this is somewhat because of his namesake, he has always believed that his power was bestowed on him to protect others. Internally, the reason he needs to be stronger than anyone else is to never be defeated. Men fight the hardest when they have everything to lose. His pride, his life, and mostly importantly... the lives of those around him. He is a warrior who seeks a cause for fighting. Lately, it's been just for the sake of his pride, his people, and the thrill of the fight.
Habits:

• Smoking
• Having very dominant body language
• Dressing extremely well everywhere he goes
• Biting his lower lip
• Stretching, flexing, and yawning to openly express emotions

Hobbies:

• Combat/Fighting
• Giving orders
• Talking down to others/Boasting of himself
• Adult affairs
• Most things pertaining to physical contest and challenge

Fears:

• Being alone
• Being defeated
• Not being able to protect others
• His rage causing a fatal mistake

Likes:

• The glory of combat and murder
• Being in control
• Taking out his aggression of on others
• Dogs
• Victory

Dislikes:

• Losing
• Not being in control
• Being looked down upon
• Being denied things
• Those weaker than himself

Skills

General Skills:

• Leadership
• Athletics
• Flying
• Singing
• Tactician

Combat Skills:

• Expert Swordsmanship
• Well developed hand-to-hand combat
• Aerial Combat
• Using Magic to enhance and work with physical attacks
• Bow and Arrow

Craft Skills:

• Psychic blasts
• Shielding
• Physical buffs

Items:

• Large Eyrien Warblade
• Bow and arrows
• Military-Grade Studded leather
• Cigars
• Dual Long Swords

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History

Background:
Born in the Askavi region of Terrielle, the heir of the Markovs had been born in a home carved at the peak of the tallest mountain. This is where he called home, and where the Markov family had been for generations. The family name alone came with a certain swagger, pride, and power, their family having an infamy on the battlefield. Xandar's father, Edgar, hosted a Gray Jewel and wielded it with passion on the battlefield. The nickname Tyrant described his father quite well. Merciless on the battlefield, cruel to those he knew, and abusive to even his own family. His wife was Ellian, owner of a Red Jewel and a fierce warrior in her own right. This is what initially drew his father to her, but her strong spirit and fiery personality compared in comparison to his father's. Xandar has striking memories of his father beating his mother half to death for disobeying him, and Xandar was not spared from these beating as a child either. However, his mother would always stand up for him, often times taking his father's wraith in place of him. These moments of kindness and protection taught Xandar about what it meant to protect those you loved, even if you had put yourself in harm's way.

While he was very close to his mother, he and his father had an odd relationship. As the only male descended from Edgar, it was Xandar's birthright to carry the Markov legacy. And because of that, his father beat into him how to act, how to fight, and how to be a proper man. Edgar saw Xandar as an extension of himself, and was very seldom proud of him, verbally berating the young boy for not being good enough. And while he has his father to thank for helping shape him into the warrior and man he is today, he'll always hate that son of a bitch.

Xandar was finally spared from his home when he had attained his birthright jewel, Sapphire, and was sent by his father to a hunting camp. Not to say that this wasn't hell either, and at 45 years of age he was pitted against boys of his own age for decades. He is proficient with most things that can be considered a weapon, but he is most proficient with a sword and bow and arrow. Even at a young age, he had the size and strength to wield a warblade, and few could match his skill with a sword. The power of his Jewel only added to his prowess on the battlefield, not relying on it, but simply using it as an enhancement and extension to his body. Normally he had no need to use his jewel, but is would be idiotic not to harness it's power and use it to it's fullest potential in combat. After decades of honing his skills, he was ready for the run. And while many of his allies died, he was the first to complete the run.

For the next few decades he would train under his father, often accompanying him in battle, even though he hadn't received his offering yet. Xandar would often have to fight his battle alone at first, his father watching and judging him as he narrowly escaped death on more than one occasion. He told him that he would not step in, as that was the nature of war for the strong to survive and the weak to perish. Years of this and many experiences of combat under his belt caused his demeanor to harden, now often leading other men into war with him and ordering them around. This was due to the fact of his namesake, but also due to the fact that he was truly fit to be a leader. A very cruel one, but he knew what the hell he was doing.

At 100 years old it was time for Xandar's offering, receiving the Ebon-Gray jewel. This sudden surge of power that came to wielding this dark of a jewel enraged his father, and Edgar could tell that Xandar would soon surpass him. His own son, who he saw as his legacy, he now saw as a threat and rival. Soon after this he sought to destroy Xandar and kill him out of fear of him. He would just have another son with a different woman he thought to himself. Xandar's mother Ellian caught wind of this and quickly sent Xandar off. There was a confrontation between the two parents, and in a fit of rage his father killed his mother in cold blood. When Xandar returned he was enraged, knowing now why he had been sent away. His mother had saved him yet again, but this time at the cost of her life. He couldn't even protect the only person close to him. After this he sought out his father in a blind rage, hunting him down and murdering him in front of dozens of his father's men. It wasn't even a contest. In one day his mother was murdered by his father, and in turn he avenged her and cut down his own father in combat, the one who taught him how to fight. Orphaned, he was one of the sole Markov's left now, and that realization of being alone struck him. As he stood there, his father's lifeless body torn open by Xandar's blade, the nickname "The Reaper" was given to him. It was as if death itself had come for Edgar, and nothing was going to stop it. Now alone and with the blood of both his parents on his hands, he went to extinguish countless lives afterwards in the pursuit of finding meaning and purpose in his now empty life.

Hundreds of years have past, and Xandar has spread his name further as the sole heir to his name. A proud man with a thirst for power that never quenched, he became more and more restless. It seems that others are restless in the world too. Many of the Blood were being corrupted by the twisted Queens, powerful men and women coming under control of the Matriarchs. A few of his own warriors had even been lost. It was only a matter of time before they came for his head, and he knew it. The fact of the matter is, he believed that nobody could control him, let alone women who claimed to be all powerful and influential. Xandar thought this was some bullshit magic, and although he never went out of his way to fight these Queens, he would readily defend himself and his people. If they wanted power, they would have to fight for it, just like he did. Xandar only respected power, and he had yet to see power that could match his own. And for that, he was blind to the fact that their were many who held power far greater than his own. He was in for a rude awakening.

After narrowly escaping capture, Xandar was forced to become a rogue, leaving the court and queen in order to declare his independence. Slavery was not an option for him, and he actively declared rebellion against this tyranny. There were many men at first that called to his cause, lots of them he had fought with on the battlefield. Xandar would lead these men into battle once more. At first they were successful, but the longer the fight went on, he slowly realized how truly outmatched and outresourced he was. There were far too many people under this new power, and one by one his men were killed, captured, or disheartened. All that was left was himself. While there was no one person he had met so far who could take him down, the Queen's army was too much. They even took over his family estate and assets. o home, no money, and nobody to count on, his was very low on options. If he wanted to continue to live as a free man, he needed friends.

This led Xandar to Aven, where a good friend of his had a father who ran a bar. It wan't much, but before he was killed in combat, his friend had mentioned going there to help the movement. After breaking the news of his son to the barkeep, he didn't seem all to mad at him. He understood that his son died fighting for a cause he believed in, and he knew the dangers. Upon asking the man, he steers Xandar to ask after the Ashkevron Healer as she "-will put ye to rights. One way or the other. Though you may not like how 'right' leaves you." Now he didn't know who this woman was, but he really had no other choice. And so this is where his story leaves off, on the hunt for a woman who had the answers he was looking for. Or so he hoped.

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Additional Information

Other:
Favorite Color Red, Doctor Strange is cool. roleplayerguild.com/posts/4856697
Theme Song:

Extra:(read rules)
I agree to follow the rules for this RP and understand that if I do not follow the rules, the GM or Co-GM may kick me out of this roleplay.

DEAD ISLAND 💀🌴

About to finish the collab and post, shouldn't take much longer.