Avatar of Torack

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Recent Statuses

2 yrs ago
Current Look at that, looks like I'm back!
5 yrs ago
In the middle of exams. Apologies to all RPs for the silence. Responses will come soon tho!
1 like
5 yrs ago
Wildest thing I learned was that the Mistborn series is loosely tied with the Stormlight Archive in this incredible novel universe Sanderson is making.
1 like
5 yrs ago
I think The Long Night was amazing. The Battle of Helm's Deep for GoT, and it pulled it off wonderfully.
5 yrs ago
This is a bit late, but 2019 has officially been blessed by Tom Brady. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

Bio

Yo! I'm Torack, you can call me Jay!

I've been RPing for a long, long time. I blame it on my overactive imagination, but it's a wonderful medium to put all these creative ideas into some sorta use. My favourite genre is fantasy. Straight up fantasy. It can be high fantasy, low fantasy, dark, modern. I love fantasy, grew up with it. I also like sci-fi, dystopian settings, etc.. Characterization and character driven stories are my favourite type of RPs, I like seeing them grow and change and the way characters react to completely shit and horrible situations. It's always a fun time.

Personally, my hobbies include reading, although recently the only types of reading I've been doing is from text books ffs. I like sports, any type of sport really, except soccer. My legs are way too clumsy for that sport. Music is something I love, R&B mostly, although I'll listen to mostly anything.

I also love pie. Pie is life, especially pecan pie. It's damn near traumatizing knowing that I haven't eaten any in like five years. Sad times.

Discord:

mr_noodlehair

Most Recent Posts

I have my character up and ready for this so I'ma drop a link to him when I'm home!
I'ma bump this.
Count me in as interested!
So should I just go ahead and make my post or wait a little longer?
Throwing my interest into this!
I'm thinking of making a dragonborn oathbreaker paladin, so expansive dungeon sounds great for that. So long as it's not all the same, then I'm definitely down for that!
I'm good with dwarf fortress or the homebrew. Though, I'm lowkey leaning towards the homebrew since I never really tried dwarf fortress lol


Lucivar DeLuxor

Dene Nehel




"You fought well," the man on his right said. "I didn't expect that from you."

"Truth be told," Lucivar said standing underneath a large tree shirtless and covered in sweat. "Neither did I."

The man grunted. "Lack of confidence is unbecoming, Lucivar."

"You misunderstand," Lucivar said taking a glass of water from a passing witch and drinking deep. In front of them was a ring of hard packed earth where the soldiers and armed men of Dene Nehel trained and sparred. Having nothing to do that day and filled with energy, he thought he'd try his hand at sparring. He didn't expect it to go so well. "My body remembers things I do not, Captain. Moves and skills that I think I learned from my past, and they just kicked in so to speak, if you don't mind the pun. They moved of their own accord."

"A military man were you, then?"

Lucivar scoffed. "Me? Hardly. If anything, I probably got into too many fights."

The Captain gave him a sidelong glance. "Knowing you, I don't doubt that."

He grinned and took his shirt from the chair and put it on, followed by his suit jacket. He spared a moment to stretch his wings. "Well, Captain Barr it's been a pleasure, truly. Thanks for letting me humiliate your men."

"I don't exactly see how beating recruits is worthy of gloating, but you do you, Prince."

"A win's a win, Captain," he called back as he left the training grounds. They weren't exactly training grounds, but rather a section of the manor's garden repurposed as such; the beauty of the place still held as it was surrounded by large hedges and trees provided shade for the guards and soldiers. Beyond the hedges however, the garden opened before him as he stepped onto the cobbled pathway. Fountains dotted the place, birds chirping as they fluttered around. Statues on high plinths in various poses lined the sidewalk and in the distance was the manor. Beige walls with a teal roof and several stories high. It wasn't exactly the biggest structure he'd seen, memories of a larger, more grand manor often and randomly flashed through his memories just before vanishing. He often wondered if he had been in such a position before his memories were lost, it would make sense as the skills to manoeuvre through the Queen's Court came to him as easily as fighting did, as though his body knew exactly what it wanted to do. In this case, his mind would come up with a sudden thought and his instincts would flare up to follow it; he would and there, his wanted results after a few short months.

He stepped out of the garden and onto the backyard where he saw a witch step out of a pillar and approach him, her hands clasped in front of her. "Prince Lucivar," she said. "Prince Tristan requests an audience with you. Today at five?"

He nodded. "Tell him I'd be pleased to have him over," he said as he walked into the manor and started climbing the steps to his rooms. Just the name of the Prince was a headache for him. The man was alas an utter idiot. He meant well, nothing he did was out of spite or to stir up controversy. But he had no mind for the political games the Courts played, he was by far too straightforward and honourable for such things. And just like any man he refused to give up his position in the Circle, enjoying the power and privileges being Master of the Queen's Guard gave him. Which was also a headache.

The rooms were large, massive and spacious. The antechamber was filled with fine chairs and several tables. Opposite the door was a short black cabinet that spanned the length of the wall and on top were bottles of wine, whiskey, and other drinks. The room had several doors, the door to the right leading to his bedroom, but he ignored that, instead going to the ones that led to the massive bathroom. Stripping down, he showered then, walking to his rooms dressed in a satin black fitted coat with golden scrollwork along the front. Underneath he wore a simple white shirt tucked into a pair of black pants, and a pair of leather boots inlaid with silver metal. Once dressed, he walked over to his solar, which led from the antechamber and adjacent to his bedroom; inside, he poured himself a cup of wine and sat behind his desk, leaning back on the chair.

"Lucivar," a voice said at the solar's entrance.

He looked up to see Andressa standing there, dressed in a hugging black dress with an incredibly low neckline that accentuated her curves. "You're back early," he said, sitting up straight. "I wasn't expecting you for another week, at least."

"There was nothing happening at the Family Estate," she said with a shrug and entered the solar. In her hand was a beige portfolio and she set it on his desk. "So I thought I'd come back. But I did bring you back a present."

"What is this?"

"A benefactor of Prince Tristan," she said. "Open it."

He tilted his head in mild amusement and reached for the folder. Inside was the file of Sonya Thorne, a particularly wealthy and incredibly influential witch in the Queen's Court. He grunted, a small smile playing on his lips. "What do we know about her?" He asked.

"Other than the fact that she's well connected with other Queens and runs half the businesses in Dene Nehel? Nothing."

"Find something on her," he said as he stood from his chair. "She wants something from Tristan and I want to know what it is."

"I'll get right on it," Andressa said. "But, that other matter we've been talking about. I've found a a replacement for Tristan, he seems like someone with a good head between his shoulders."

"Who is he?"

"He's in the file."

Looking down, he flipped a few pages and found a Prince with a tiger-eye jewel. Colten Swett. A prince that was stirring water in the Courts. He took a moment to read through his file then set it down and smiled at Andressa. "Ambitious young man who could use someone powerful on his side. Contact him. I want a meeting tonight."

"I'll make it happen," she said with a smile and walked out.
That's awesome still! This story is honestly turning out to be pretty epic; all on you poet. But yeah, me and Fetzen are currently working on a Collab. We'll post it when it's done
Logan Thetch


Tarantis
Kron Nesis


He walked back out of the alleyway and into the main streets towards the better part of the city, which wasn't saying all that much considering the entire city was a spectacle. There were portions of the city however where the richer folk and the nobility would reside, far more decorated and ridiculous than the rest of the city; the buildings were obnoxiously tall and wide some surrounded with their own walls as though it were a small city unto itself, even more ludicrous were these particular walls had their own guards walking the ramparts and standing at the entrances. But worse were the people, who rode in carriages and horses and carpeted the cobblestones they walked upon, as though better than everyone else. As if they didn't take a shit that morning. The nature of man and society was something he was curious about ever since he returned from his time lost in the woods; he would have gone to scholars for such things, but conversation was a weak point for him. Having lived in seclusion for so long with nothing but himself to talk to wasn't exactly grounds for great conversational skills, and even on the few times he tried it seemed awkward and forced on his part. He'd much rather pursue his curiosity on his own, pondering things in his head as he had grown all too accustomed to.

Feeling someone approach him from behind, he turned and saw a young man running towards him from a long distance, red faced. Logan stood and waited for the runner, recognizing him as one of the novices of the Hunter's Guild when he eventually got near. He couldn't recollect the boy's name but he'd seen him about a few times running this way and that, always with a frustrated look on his red face just like the one he had now, as if he'd rather be somewhere else or doing something else. "Mister Logan! Mister Logan!" he heard the boy cry out. He came to a stop in front of him and took a moment to catch his breath, then: "The guild requires your presence for a coming expedition for the army. If you are interested, otherwise please let me know now."

Logan looked the boy in the eyes for a good half minute before grunting and walking away, his mind racing as a worried knot formed on his brow. A war. He'd heard about this, or rather had heard rumours of one about to start. Something about a king of straw or a straw king or some such madman that the nation deemed a threat. Enough to waste resources on. But Kron-Nesis if anything had a surplus of resources and they needed to go somewhere, and wasting them on a war was as good as anything else. The worry however came in the choices this presented before him. Would he join this army and fight in this fool's war for a nation he had no allegiance to? More, Kron-Nesis were the aggressors and he didn't know if they were marching for the right reasons. Would they march to oppress, a powerful nation stomping and exploiting a smaller, weaker nation just to flex its own ego?

If that were the case he couldn't join the army, he'd be morally bound to fight against it and join the oppressed. Not that he had any business in the silly war in any case.

He approached a rather large building made mostly of wood, one of the only few buildings of its kind, but an exotic sort of wood that seemed to shine and glow in the sunlight, its somewhat earthy nature accentuated by the stone framework. As he got closer he saw the wood wasn't flat, but rather it had been etched into forming large exotic swirls and runes all intertwined together as though the building had been transported from the Northern Alliance and placed in this southern Kingdom. On the stone framework were set large gemstones nearly as big as his head in a variety of colours that emitted a sort light of their own, pulsating weakly as if power ran through the building like blood. He entered through the large wooden door and stepped into a storefront of hunting goods. Bows, arrows, traps and heads of various games were set on the walls. Skins and hides of various animals. And the place a pine smell to it, not the natural kind one would smell deep in the woods, but synthetic and more sweet.

"Logan," a man poking his head from the counter. A Northman like him, but finer dressed and dark haired. If one didn't know who he was he could have easily been mistaken for a Kron Nesi. "It's good to finally see you."

He grunted and placed the head on the counter. "Here's the head you wanted," he said reverting back to his mother tongue.

"It's beautiful," Bjorn said with a wide grin running a hand on its massive antlers, still speaking in Kron Nesi. "Eighteen antlers. Tell me it put up a chase, old friend. Tell me it sensed your intention the moment you set foot into its woods."

"Bastard seemed to cover its own tracks too. That or some goblin decided to amuse itself by making my life harder."

The owner laughed and took the head to the back and returned moments later and started putting coins into a pouch. "So, how're you getting along in Tarantis?"

"Well enough."

"Still the silent savage, I take it?"

Logan frowned.

"It's what they're calling you, you know. These Kron-Nesi."

"Is that so?"

"Aye, it is. They think you strange and dumb, some savage from the woods. I even hear a few say they were going to petition to get you out of the city."

He clicked his tongue and waved his hand dismissively with a soft growl.

"Logan. Seriously, you have to learn to socialize with them. You're not in the woods anymore, people need to be reassured that you're civilized."

Logan got an uncomfortable look about him as he turned away, examining a rather interesting piece of string on the table. "It's not as easy as it looks, you know," he mumbled.

"Coming from the man who survived in the woods. Alone, as a child on nothing but his own wit? Can't talk to people?"

He looked up at Bjorn with a frown.

"Look, all I'm saying is you have to give it a shot. It's only as hard as the effort you give."

"Being lectured by a shopowner," Logan grumbled as he grabbed the coin pouch. "I socialize well enough to get by. If they don't like it, they can kiss my Northern arse, the bastards."

Bjorn grinned. "Wonderful! Now say that to any passing man in the street and they'll all be relieved!"

"Fuck off," he said and walked out.
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