That sounds as though that is quite a beneficial turn of events, @Carantathraiel. I am pleased to hear the tide has at last turned in your favor!
The Harbinger of Ferocity Member
STATUS: Masses are always breeding grounds of psychic epidemics. 6 yrs ago- Last Seen: 4 yrs ago
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6 yrs ago
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Masses are always breeding grounds of psychic epidemics.
6 yrs ago
The highest, most decisive experience is to be alone with one's own self. You must be alone to find out what supports you, when you find that you can not support yourself.
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7 yrs ago
One cannot live from anything except what one is.
7 yrs ago
The slave to virtue finds the way as little as the slave to vices.
7 yrs ago
The core of an individual is the mystery of life, which dies when it is 'grasped'. That is also why symbols want to keep their secrets.
Bio
The Harbinger of Ferocity
Agent of the Wild, Aspect of the Ferine
Nature, red in tooth and claw.
"There is, indeed, no single quality of the cat that man could not emulate to his advantage."
- Carl Van Vechten
I am, at my core, a personification and manifestation of those things whose blood and hearts run red with the ferocity of the animal world. It is this which convicts and controls my works, my writing, my being; the force and guidance in which I gain wisdom from. It is what inspires me as a creator and weaver of words, the very thing I admire as an author.
My leanings, savage as they are, are of the feline sort as there exists no greater lineage of beasts whom can be drawn from. No others captivate and motivate my talent and skill as the greatest of cats do.
Most Recent Posts
I, @Carantathraiel? The shortest answer would be generally well, the longest answer would be "I foresee things getting better for myself and many others in the near future." For the most part, the madness of the past half year should be dying out for me. What of you? Well, I hope?
Interesting conversation to stumble in to, but I certainly have no complaints.
@IcePezz, I do adore your concern, but as always I just assume you and @ArenaSnow have contingencies in place as that has been hour style. I was more jesting than anything; as when it rains, it oft pours.
A very sudden onset of events all at once. I am sure this cannot turn out poorly for anyone present, not at all.
The comfort of bathing did not distract the old lioness, and the flick of one of her golden ears in the direction of the loud knocking alerted her to something being afoot. Before the woman before the door even had chance to speak, the beast had set her powerful hand about the handle of the elvish blade and turned her attention, or a scornful unsettling gaze in truth, toward the source of the sound. A surprise visitor was among one of the last things she wished to contend with, particularly here and now where she laid soaking in a basin of warm water that could barely so much as fit her enormous frame.
"Sakaala," a familiar but muffled voice called out a bit hastily, "could we talk for a bit?"
Uncrossing her feet, for they had rested one upon the other while she bathed, she proved to rise slowly and tread carefully. She ignored the ornately folded night robes presented atop a small shelf as they would not fit something so large as she, instead willing the free hand to take up her own robes while she began toward the door. Shouldering the tattered ebon cloak, changing the heavy blade between hands in doing doing so, she left a trail of dripping water behind her as it rolled off her pelt and in part soaked her clothing. The sound of water trickling in this manner was audible for a moment or so more to the halfling woman as she stood there beyond in the hallway...
... but as quickly as it had come, it disappeared.
Sakaala's fingers finished some obscure gesture and the will of the arcanist herself made itself present. She was as dry as though she had not yet bathed, but the water spots among the floor told a very different tale; something she would handle later, so not as to offend the lady of the house and her servants, but for now, at least she was not soaking. It helped with her demeanor in this moment, giving her some comfort as she donned her leather leggings and the enchanted breastplate as it this was many times better than being both soaking wet and cold all while having her presence requested.
She spoke at last in reply, knowing the other had been listening all along, cinching the leather of her broad belt down about the densely muscled fur of her waist, "I have time, yes."
Settling the blade across her back where it hung freely without scabbard or sheath, she closed the divide between the bath and the rest of her quarters, cognitive to gently shut the door. The illusion of her being less than prepared against attack was a crucial thing to maintain; she had no real reason to trust these people enough with her life yet. Just as so, when the Huntress' large digits set themselves to the door's workings, unlatching the bolt and drawing back, her body, mind and spirit tingled with anticipation, but were met with what she truly expected.
The halfling of earlier, Regina Hills, proved to be looking up to her and her demeanor was... strange. Stranger than before, as this was a different emotion and presentation altogether. As to what it meant, the beast did not know, but it struck her as though something had surprised her - and for worse no less. Sure not to lose her advantage so soon, she instead made no remark on it.
"What was it you wished to speak about?" The warrior-mage said, regal voice rumbling with a underlying growl.
Providing a step back, she opened the doorway further, arm outstretched to provide the visitor entry if she so wished it; the leonine woman clearly did.
@ArenaSnow@AdamantiumWolf@Belwicket@IcePezz@Zero Hex@vietmyke@Jon Y
"Sakaala," a familiar but muffled voice called out a bit hastily, "could we talk for a bit?"
Uncrossing her feet, for they had rested one upon the other while she bathed, she proved to rise slowly and tread carefully. She ignored the ornately folded night robes presented atop a small shelf as they would not fit something so large as she, instead willing the free hand to take up her own robes while she began toward the door. Shouldering the tattered ebon cloak, changing the heavy blade between hands in doing doing so, she left a trail of dripping water behind her as it rolled off her pelt and in part soaked her clothing. The sound of water trickling in this manner was audible for a moment or so more to the halfling woman as she stood there beyond in the hallway...
... but as quickly as it had come, it disappeared.
Sakaala's fingers finished some obscure gesture and the will of the arcanist herself made itself present. She was as dry as though she had not yet bathed, but the water spots among the floor told a very different tale; something she would handle later, so not as to offend the lady of the house and her servants, but for now, at least she was not soaking. It helped with her demeanor in this moment, giving her some comfort as she donned her leather leggings and the enchanted breastplate as it this was many times better than being both soaking wet and cold all while having her presence requested.
She spoke at last in reply, knowing the other had been listening all along, cinching the leather of her broad belt down about the densely muscled fur of her waist, "I have time, yes."
Settling the blade across her back where it hung freely without scabbard or sheath, she closed the divide between the bath and the rest of her quarters, cognitive to gently shut the door. The illusion of her being less than prepared against attack was a crucial thing to maintain; she had no real reason to trust these people enough with her life yet. Just as so, when the Huntress' large digits set themselves to the door's workings, unlatching the bolt and drawing back, her body, mind and spirit tingled with anticipation, but were met with what she truly expected.
The halfling of earlier, Regina Hills, proved to be looking up to her and her demeanor was... strange. Stranger than before, as this was a different emotion and presentation altogether. As to what it meant, the beast did not know, but it struck her as though something had surprised her - and for worse no less. Sure not to lose her advantage so soon, she instead made no remark on it.
"What was it you wished to speak about?" The warrior-mage said, regal voice rumbling with a underlying growl.
Providing a step back, she opened the doorway further, arm outstretched to provide the visitor entry if she so wished it; the leonine woman clearly did.
@ArenaSnow@AdamantiumWolf@Belwicket@IcePezz@Zero Hex@vietmyke@Jon Y
I loathe posting twice, but I am most curious as to who we are waiting on. It has been several days without a reply in the topic itself.
I agree with @Zero Hex, as between @ArenaSnow and @IcePezz you are both already fairly certain as to the person you would pick, leaving the rest of the party to be mulling about while they wait. This would better streamline the process.
This here is a character that I've used for many other roleplays. If you want me to make any adjustments, don't hesitate to ask!
<Snipped Quote Contains Equal Parts Madness and Amazing>
While I am unsure if this submission is serious within the context of this campaign and its design, as the piece's absurdness at times is impressive even if it were in the most fantastic of fantasy realms, but I feel indebted to give you commendations for the clearly dedicated effort put into it. You have truly crafted the epitome of the "legendary barbarian".
It has been done, @IcePezz. Hopefully I represented the warding well and in a fashion that was both befitting of a schooled arcanist and someone who is not fond of being ambushed by shadow-assassins.
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