So, so many roleplays I have reviewed and skimmed across, yet I still find nothing of true interest or use. It is as though I see the same ones over and over again... how utterly disappointing.
The Harbinger of Ferocity Member
STATUS: Masses are always breeding grounds of psychic epidemics. 6 yrs ago- Last Seen: 4 yrs ago
- Joined: 12 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
@DMZ, any recommended reference material that you think would be most appropriate to Faerun and your story? It seems you could use an additional player character.
You have Sakaala's reply and her intrigue. After all, I have a feeling this is not meant to be an actual fight to the death here so early on with so many plot relevant characters, but anything is possible of course.
The intention that carried with the hastened sword, its edge gleaming amidst the chaos that was ever steadily gaining momentum, was not so much a deathly blow as it could have been, but a mortal warning. The shunt of air intervening well, it caused the enormous leonine form to absorb the brunt of its impact and be driven back by a few paces, but not before the swing connected; a sonorous hum filled the air for the aging mithral weapon sung in reply to the wind its blade carved through, ending in a powerful clatter of buckling metal and the thud of wood. The tall, narrow profile of the candelabra that had laid across the fine wooden floor, the same the Ritari had been clinging to in order to rise up to his knees moments before, was cut clean in two.
The metal smoothly sundered, it spoke volumes to what it and its bearer could do to a man.
Her arm and shoulder raised in a defensive posture to shield her upper half, the Huntress leaned into the wind until it waned, the remains of the old, formerly ebon robes she wore about her massive person fluttering about in their tatters; the magical gale's strength having caused her to drag the sword across the once fine wooden floor and leave a clean hewn path in its wake. The gap had increased, but it meant truly nothing to the hastened veteran, who peered with the cold eyes of a hardened hunter at the mage.
It was all very much business, but this man strangely had done nothing to try to kill her yet, despite the pressure and menace she exerted on him.
As the winds subsided and her remnant clothing settled about her powerful, beastly frame, she willed the shielding arm down slowly and idled a spell; she knew that any arcanist worth his salt would recognize the gesture, as she made no attempt to disguise the spell in her people's now dead tongue. It was then the abjuration began to coalesce about her palm, wrapping itself in a nearly transparent aura, readied for what she predicted to be the counterattack with the sword hand keeping the blade steady and no higher than her waist. The intent was to either take the brunt of his own attempt to dispel the hastening magic that sheathed her, or to encourage his own actual spell's cast; something that he seemingly was intent to do as he grasped a foreign talisman.
"You are outmatched and outnumbered, mage." Sakaala's keen ears flicked at a strange, cold chill that accompanied the creaking of the once grand manor but continued all the same in her strong voice, "As while I do not know if you or your order serve this 'Zargon', still your spells and perhaps you might yet keep your life."
Both eyes, the one keen and the one blind, narrowed and her brow furled low as she attempted to read the invader's demeanor and person; from what it was she was told, this was a fight between two wizardly collectives, with some greater stake over these stones... that portion of which directly concerned her. She could care less as to which one were more "righteous" in their quest, but more to that this evil be hunted and rightfully destroyed; men, particularly those with magic, were petty things and perfectly content to squabble just like the commoners they thought themselves ordained over.
The expression he had shared earlier was strange - when his eyes met her own, almost with a gleam of curiosity, respect, fear and disappointment as one - as was that he made no effort to actively kill her with the obvious magic he could command. She played in reply, cocking her muzzle and head ever so slightly to the side, glancing over to where Lady Genevieve had fallen then back to him. Whether he did or did not pick up on her innuendo as to just who he was and what his business truly was, was perhaps irrelevant, but the scarred ranger needed to try at the least.
She did not trust the mage and she certainly did not trust Lady Genevieve.
@ArenaSnow@Belwicket@IcePezz@Jon Y@vietmyke@Zero Hex
The metal smoothly sundered, it spoke volumes to what it and its bearer could do to a man.
Her arm and shoulder raised in a defensive posture to shield her upper half, the Huntress leaned into the wind until it waned, the remains of the old, formerly ebon robes she wore about her massive person fluttering about in their tatters; the magical gale's strength having caused her to drag the sword across the once fine wooden floor and leave a clean hewn path in its wake. The gap had increased, but it meant truly nothing to the hastened veteran, who peered with the cold eyes of a hardened hunter at the mage.
It was all very much business, but this man strangely had done nothing to try to kill her yet, despite the pressure and menace she exerted on him.
As the winds subsided and her remnant clothing settled about her powerful, beastly frame, she willed the shielding arm down slowly and idled a spell; she knew that any arcanist worth his salt would recognize the gesture, as she made no attempt to disguise the spell in her people's now dead tongue. It was then the abjuration began to coalesce about her palm, wrapping itself in a nearly transparent aura, readied for what she predicted to be the counterattack with the sword hand keeping the blade steady and no higher than her waist. The intent was to either take the brunt of his own attempt to dispel the hastening magic that sheathed her, or to encourage his own actual spell's cast; something that he seemingly was intent to do as he grasped a foreign talisman.
"You are outmatched and outnumbered, mage." Sakaala's keen ears flicked at a strange, cold chill that accompanied the creaking of the once grand manor but continued all the same in her strong voice, "As while I do not know if you or your order serve this 'Zargon', still your spells and perhaps you might yet keep your life."
Both eyes, the one keen and the one blind, narrowed and her brow furled low as she attempted to read the invader's demeanor and person; from what it was she was told, this was a fight between two wizardly collectives, with some greater stake over these stones... that portion of which directly concerned her. She could care less as to which one were more "righteous" in their quest, but more to that this evil be hunted and rightfully destroyed; men, particularly those with magic, were petty things and perfectly content to squabble just like the commoners they thought themselves ordained over.
The expression he had shared earlier was strange - when his eyes met her own, almost with a gleam of curiosity, respect, fear and disappointment as one - as was that he made no effort to actively kill her with the obvious magic he could command. She played in reply, cocking her muzzle and head ever so slightly to the side, glancing over to where Lady Genevieve had fallen then back to him. Whether he did or did not pick up on her innuendo as to just who he was and what his business truly was, was perhaps irrelevant, but the scarred ranger needed to try at the least.
She did not trust the mage and she certainly did not trust Lady Genevieve.
@ArenaSnow@Belwicket@IcePezz@Jon Y@vietmyke@Zero Hex
Consider this cat curious at the very least.
While I am not very familiar with Faerun, or Second Edition, I am more than proficient with Third and Fifth. If you would permit me some time to review Faerun and this roleplay as a whole I am likely to find my way into it.
While I am not very familiar with Faerun, or Second Edition, I am more than proficient with Third and Fifth. If you would permit me some time to review Faerun and this roleplay as a whole I am likely to find my way into it.
2 days of no activity. Kinda makes me sad. I will try to have something up this evening. If not by then, definitely come morning! :D
I could not agree more.
A couple of days of inactivity is a couple too many.
The coolness of a crystal river's water found itself pulled from its smooth stones, rushing quietly down the hillside. Each steady lap yet again taking in the revitalizing waters made clean once more, the jowls curved in pause; sparkling droplets delicately hanging from the shortest of fur that covered the titan's muzzle. The quiet here, the sound only of the ambiance of distant avians and the muttering of the calm water, was a reward all its own. Each pause in the journey there was time set aside to return life and power to these things - divine, impossible works that were set in motion by a paw so massive that it could surely return solid stone to but pebbles once more... just as they did here and now.
The waters, restored with life once more by this sacred source, would undoubtedly attract and breed more life in return over generations to come. Perhaps even men, in time, would come to this place as well and discover it a thing of plenty, but in such a case all that could be hoped for would be for them to make wise use of it. Others? Those of the past, in many cases, had not been so wise and paid dearly for their error.
In withdrawing from the stony edge and rising to its feet, it set off once more in its continued pursuit.
A hunt not soon to end.
The waters, restored with life once more by this sacred source, would undoubtedly attract and breed more life in return over generations to come. Perhaps even men, in time, would come to this place as well and discover it a thing of plenty, but in such a case all that could be hoped for would be for them to make wise use of it. Others? Those of the past, in many cases, had not been so wise and paid dearly for their error.
In withdrawing from the stony edge and rising to its feet, it set off once more in its continued pursuit.
A hunt not soon to end.
A small message this might be, but thank you for the rapidity of these updates and their employment, @Mahz.
@ArenaSnow, mostly just to give our friend some breathing room to do his thing I opted for Sakaala to give him a "friendly" shove.
The thump of the man's might hand upon his chest and his powerful, sure grin keened the monstrous mage's interest as her hand stayed the magic that had welled up from within her, but there would be time yet for her questions... just not now. The reply to his statement was but a steady nod, her fierce eye upon the man then returned to its focus upon Regina who had come to a halt down the hall. Whatever was transpiring there, the aging warrior and her knightly companions were about to encounter it as well.
"Hathaam." She spoke aloud amidst the noise of the servants who seemed to be whipped into a frenzy. The very air stilled around Sakaala, Sir Hepburnberg and Sir Erran, or so it seemed as her arcane invocation altered the fundamentals of reality for them. This manipulation of magic was no small feat, but this was the form the sorceress wielded most comfortably; aspects of its mystic power had become innate to her with time, such as her uncanny speed and almost precognitive ability.
As she moved, taking but one step even to the other men she moved like living lightning - to an observer unaffected, she seemed to blur with motion. Blade at an angle behind her, its grip firmly within her grasp, the enormous musculature of her savage form leaned into the movement with her free hand outstretched lightly. She had more than readied her mind and body, as while the forceful gust of wind waked around her having passed the halfling, rustling her tattered half-cloak and streamlining her golden fur to her body, she narrowed her attention upon the hooded man who staggered from the blow of a slamming door.
An open target as any, she unleashed an open palmed strike toward the center of his figure, hoping the surprise and momentum would wreck havoc upon him. Fingers curled and curved inward, the bite of the vicious elven blade in the other hand was not far behind if he so much as resisted in the slightest; the lioness was not about to kill the man unless need be, but she had a suspicion as she bore down upon him that injury to subdue him would not be what was called for.
@ArenaSnow@Belwicket@IcePezz@Jon Y@vietmyke@Zero Hex
"Hathaam." She spoke aloud amidst the noise of the servants who seemed to be whipped into a frenzy. The very air stilled around Sakaala, Sir Hepburnberg and Sir Erran, or so it seemed as her arcane invocation altered the fundamentals of reality for them. This manipulation of magic was no small feat, but this was the form the sorceress wielded most comfortably; aspects of its mystic power had become innate to her with time, such as her uncanny speed and almost precognitive ability.
As she moved, taking but one step even to the other men she moved like living lightning - to an observer unaffected, she seemed to blur with motion. Blade at an angle behind her, its grip firmly within her grasp, the enormous musculature of her savage form leaned into the movement with her free hand outstretched lightly. She had more than readied her mind and body, as while the forceful gust of wind waked around her having passed the halfling, rustling her tattered half-cloak and streamlining her golden fur to her body, she narrowed her attention upon the hooded man who staggered from the blow of a slamming door.
An open target as any, she unleashed an open palmed strike toward the center of his figure, hoping the surprise and momentum would wreck havoc upon him. Fingers curled and curved inward, the bite of the vicious elven blade in the other hand was not far behind if he so much as resisted in the slightest; the lioness was not about to kill the man unless need be, but she had a suspicion as she bore down upon him that injury to subdue him would not be what was called for.
@ArenaSnow@Belwicket@IcePezz@Jon Y@vietmyke@Zero Hex
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