The Harbinger of Ferocity

Pruin - The Fantasy Land.

At last satisfied with the activity of the town at the break of dawn, certain not to be so early as the approach could be taken as offensive, the man arose to his feet, coin grasped firmly in palm.

The decision had been made in plain, in that it was simple and unimaginative to most; something of value and longevity, but did not perish or dull. What good were things if they were to come and go so quickly? Walking before the wooden fronts of the many stores, he quietly neared the warmth that permeated the area beside the town's blacksmith. Men and dwarves working, they did not pay heed to the lone man with the long tawny hair; too busy striking steel to be bothered by an onlooker who surely could not buy anything.

Pushing open the thick door of the shop, he noted the dwarven woman from earlier - the one who had set out a sign before the front, alongside the one in the window; calls to men in need of work they were.

Stepping before examples of the finer work in the shop, things of which not a single gold could buy, the man examined them briefly in his brown, earth toned rags and worn belt of leather; perhaps the second most valuable thing on his person. He came to a stop, pausing before a set of unrefined silver ores. With a strange sense of expertise, he seemed to work through the stones, selecting one of which was not on display. As it were, it was a mixture of dull and shine in this state, both metallic and flat grey.

Almost with a knowing, the man paused, turning about to witness the face of a man - an orc, more specifically - placed against the dull glass; silver ore in one hand, a lone gold coin in another as he looked unto the onlooker in return, whose eyes wandered the place's various works.

@xxrhoo@King Tai

Waeldeshore 1.0 [CONCLUDED]

Sorry for the late post everyone, my college just decided to dump a load of deadlines on me and I had to work my socks off. @The Harbinger of Ferocity I hope you don't mind Ionathan asking The Red another question

@Jon Y

I do not, as it gives good insight to both the characters. It makes them more personable and relatable.

I did mention that The Red is aware of Zargon, but not the who, what, where, when or why; these specifics he would be totally unaware of. One demon's presence seems like any other, short of their actual power which is more or less the extent of it.

Waeldeshore 1.0 [CONCLUDED]

Idling as he had been, his eyes perusing the common folk as they went about their deeds for the day, "The Red"'s mind wandered. Not far, as was expected of the man and his caliber, remaining ever suspicious and watchful of those near and far, particularly the sorts who were visibly armed - such as Richard when he returned once more, errand loyally fulfilled. It was all waiting of the sort that he reviled, in that it lacked purpose; had these so called adventurers not been prepared already?

"The Red" reminded himself that these were but civil folk and had need of things other than the nature of their person and the skill that came with it. They came with their strangeness in many regards, as not even one of them carried a bow - a weapon of incredible reliability in the wilderness - but opted for fantastic and complex machines with moving gears or burning sand. Even the daggers bore beneath his scimitar were purposeful; one for flaying, another a tool and yet another an actual weapon, and even then these others could suffice in this as well.

It was more than he wished to contend with, the all of it.

Awaiting the green eyed woman's return in spite of this, "The Red" proved to shake his head softly in disbelief at the woman - purchasing a basket of fine, ripe fruit. However, he proved to miss the event between her and the oft drunk swordsman that was the greed and glory hungry Robert - his attention ripped aside by the half elf who prove to raise a hand.

The beast tensed and his lip nearly tugged at its corner in the threat it wished to issue; one that the body of a mere mortal man could not duplicate. The grimace, either way, was a clear sign of his dislike for the limb crossing anywhere within faintest reach of him, but to both of their fortune, Ionathan was quick to return it to his own person, posing a question instead. The tension eased lightly, in that the gesture had not only ended, but that the other man's behavior was not as initially threatening as it had first appeared.

"My good man forgive me for intruding but I was just wondering if you have any supplies?" He said, proving to rummage through his pocket and produce a handful of coins, all of varied values, motioning with them while he continued, "If money is a problem I can easily be of assistance."

While "The Red" understood the gesture, beyond a doubt, it struck him as strange. It was an apparent act of good faith, but such kindness, by a representative of the kingdom no less, was something he had never experienced. Typically, guardsmen were attempting to kill him - the last great event the king's men had been involved in including "The Red" was the hunt for a beast that had seemingly murdered a man in cold blood, dragging his still bleeding corpse into the wilderness after the blindside that was the attack. Unbeknownst to them it he was no average man but a minor diabolist, yet that mattered not.

What mattered, in the now, was that the dark haired man with the dense emerald stare seemed... genuine.

To prove a point, of which he agreed to in his own conscious, the large man drew up a hand and picked a single silver piece from Ionathan's hand. Looking over the piece, holding it between the two of them as they stood there, the druid spoke;

"This can do me little good outside of here." At first the words appeared condescending, "But this," He motioned toward Ionathan with a subtle movement, not losing his focus, "Can do ample good."

"Consider what you do now with your coin wisely, half blood." Setting the piece back down in the palm of the half elf with a clink, he stood back and returned his powerful arm to his side at rest, "I will fare well enough in that which is nature's domain; ensure you can as well."

A strange sensation pulled at the hairs upon the hackles of the wilderman - something unrelated to him or the guardsman, sarcina in tow. Demeanor changing briefly, he became erect in stance and glanced around, eyes wandering the crowd; to Ionathan, some strange turn of events and personality appeared to come over the barbarian in front of him. The sort that appeared like an animal on edge, watchful of an attack. To "The Red" himself, something stirred the ambient Incarnum - the spirit energy - of this portion of the town folk like a distant but powerful void among much neutrality.

There was a darkness, a sickness to Waledeshore, a corruption born of demonic energy that would linger for perhaps years to come, but this was different; this, wherever it was, felt like the steady, creeping increase of ill tidings.

"Our enemy is afoot among us, somewhere."

@Jon Y@ArenaSnow@IcePezz

Pruin - The Fantasy Land.

The stoking of flames and furnaces within the shops and their fronts began to fill the air with light soot as the gentle breeze drawn from the sea failed to push them far; as they grew warmer further the ash proved to billow up until the smoke no longer was depositing its larger pieces upon the solid, albeit earthy paths of the streets.

A dwarven woman hauled a sizable amount of refined ores into a reinforced bag, while the man with hand aflame from earlier, disappeared within what could be reasoned to be his shop. The dawning activity all the while spurred the lonely man to further thought, wherein he held the coin before him, examining its uneven surface. It was, for someone as poor as a lowly caste, a fair sum, as most only had a few silver and copper to their name in coin at any time, but that was not his reason for staring.

Of all things, it was what to do with the humble pressed piece. It was not something he was accustomed to, in any sense, and worse yet, it reminded him the great lengths mortal men would go to even have but one. But the question still remained... what to even do with it?

Drawing his green gaze up, he awaited the storefront owners to open in their entirety, which was undoubtedly soon with dawn so close now.

Pruin - The Fantasy Land.

<Snipped quote by Shade>

@Shade

Perhaps the best answer I could have hoped for and thank you for the clarification.

Pruin - The Fantasy Land.

Regarding the magic of the world, what level of power are you looking for in the characters, but also the world itself, @Shade?

Pruin - The Fantasy Land.

In spite of the chill morning's hours before dawn, activity was afoot, or at least upon closer inspection it had been for some time.

A man, passing for but a humble commoner down on his luck, sat upon a cool stone porch across from a row of shops with but a single gold piece running between his fingers. It's metallic form moved in a manner that suggested thought, or at least the illusion of it, as it drifted between each digit and back again with a fair amount of dexterity. In spite of the coolness and humidity of the morning, he showed no ill effects for how little he wore, not so much huddled or bound up like most.

Taking note of those about as they started on their days, spurred by the faint purple of oncoming dawn not terribly far off, he eyed them with a sense of curiosity and watchfulness. One of whom, understandably, caught his attention in that he projected a flame from a hand and snapped it away with a clever motion of the wrist to no ill effect.

Waeldeshore 1.0 [CONCLUDED]

@IcePezz this is just an opinion. Mabey we should do a time skip. Because a lot of people dont really know what to post right now. Just an idea.

@boomlover

I believe a time skip at this point would be fairly disruptive as there is now a lot going on, but very, very few people reacting to it; because a handful have not taken action, it puts others into being unable to act.

Pruin - The Fantasy Land.

Name: Mistwalker
Age: 4 (Effectively 33 Years)
Race: Awakened Smilodon
Appearance:
An adult male of his kind and born of the Northern reaches, Mistwalker is identified most easily by his species than anything else. Bearing a thick tawny pelt with darker, irregular striped markings, tremendous sabered canines and mighty paws, his green eyes shine with an unusual glint of intellect and personality that betray his otherwise truly animal appearance.
Class/Station: Fangshields Druid
Brief Background:
Awakened to intelligence from youth, Mistwalker was raised to act as a member of the Fangshields - powerful animal druids who are oft charged with mentoring young, aspiring mortal wards of the druidic art on behalf of elder druids who wish to gain insight if they are truly destined for the calling. A Warden, or a veteran druidic protector, Mistwalker is experienced enough to supervise a charge alone and wield notable command of the natural realm in magic.
Ten Word Personality: An insightful, enlightened beast of cunning and force of nature.
Equipment: None
Spellcasting:
Mistwalker is partial to elemental spellcasting and magical summons of other animals although he is capable of providing brief boons, healing and shapeshifting.

Pruin - The Fantasy Land.

@The Harbinger of Ferocity@King Tai Accepted, although this is a jump in thread, my appreciation of such sheets is invaluable when it comes to the RP itself. Many thanks to you all.
@xxrhoo@TaroMaster4

PS: A like means an accept.

@Shade

It is more or less a formality and a "We don't want to piss off the Game Master, so we're going to try and get clarification and or permission first before we do X, Y or Z." or at least that's my approach - I cannot speak for everyone else.