~Youth never dies; it only hides waiting to be found~ Unknown Story- Deathbringer Saifer fashioned not only decay and rot upon the grounds he blighted, but also tyranny and insurrection; both mere afterthoughts. His coming was not marked by the dribbling of one man, or by the whispers of an unfaithful wife, or even by the shouts of a cheated and beaten man, but a combination of all of these, as well as the fabled glyphs that highlighted his existence- exaggerated or not. Amongst a civil war- the serfs of Teledring must battle two separate wars- one against the Deathbringer’s new forces and one against themselves. While the façade of desolation and hopelessness deceives Saifer, it does not deceive the Deaf Ones- an elite group of champions who are known especially well for their humble beginnings, anonymity, and unique skills. It is up to the Deaf Ones to sneak through the heart of Teledring whether it be with a guise or light feet- through wars waged on every side against every side to find what they seek, harmony and serenity. Amongst this confusion and this conflict they must create something to look up to- not for the hope of posterity or for the hope of aged, but for a combination thereof- man and woman alike. Sought after like the Holy Grail, the last chance to defeat the Deathbringer is a mere ring that is, according to legend, residing in an armory on the outskirts of the Jurian Nile. Before it is too late, the Deaf Ones must overcome the menacing horde of friends and foe alike. Game/The writing itself: While I do appreciate people who are extremely enthusiastic about role-playing their character and acting as that character, I am leaning more towards an OOC story here, with the role-playing aspect present, but not overtly oppressing. Everyone who writes on this thread can make up their own aspects in the world of Teledring, such as their race, towns or sub-districts their powers, their name, creatures, etc- as long as it is reasonable. Setting: Teledring. It is a world that is divided into five distinct districts and divided conveniently down the center with a large, frozen lake called The Wastes. These districts belong to the Humans, the Dwarves, the Elves, and the magical race of the Sahrias, all of whom are loosely united against common foe- the Deathbringer’s forces, which are expanding and claiming new territory every day. These districts do not have names that they are commonly referred to, though the combination of all of them is referred to as the Peacekeepers. Because these districts are so large, the possibilities of events and the scenery is whatever you make it- your character’s background and bio can bring a bit of that culture into the group, the Deaf Ones. It is a world of magic, secret powers, diversity and an interactive, somewhat living environment, which will be evident later on in the story. Time: The time in Teledring is only gauged by reference. The current time is “Beyond the First War” which refers to the time the Deathbringer was defeated and banished. Rules: 1. Write the next part of the story. 2. No controlling other characters 3. First Post: Character Template 4. No invincibility 5. Continue from the last post 6. All Posts must be relevant to interaction with other characters, or the story line. 7. Avoid super long or short posts. 12-15 sentences is about right. 8. Take it from the perspective of your character being equal with other characters- and take it from the third person perspective while making your character act. In other words, treat it as you are telling a story about your character while being it. 9. Be kind, be courteous, and be reasonable. In the beginning: The meetings always take place high in the dry mountains of Raiyek in between the four districts- that way words are lost in the wind and motives stomped into the arid cracks. The reason for having to be subtle was the fact that this group didn't exist; its face unknown and its name only legend. It had killed many, most righteously, but the cause of death ended up being of natural causes and the reasons for this are clear. This would instill fear, a powerful weapon and a cause of disorder even into the Deathbringer’s men. Warm skies and an unfortunately low amount of humidity offered plastered hair and sticky shirts to those of the group that sat through it, but they did not care. Known as the Deaf Ones- their missions are clear. Death is not feared, and life is not welcomed.Their biggest task yet has now been bestowed upon them and before it was even whispered it was already clear. It was the last hope. Inside of an armory near the Jurian Nile, past the desecrated and worn Wastes, is a small, bejeweled ring that is rumored to be the only way to end the Deathbringer once and for all. These elite few have a narrow agenda, and in war, anything goes. Some of them are righteous, and some of them sleazy and cheap- only wanting the pay and the prospect at owning the most powerful artifact in all of Teledring. Benei, just one of the Deaf ones, had a daunting task ahead of her. To meet those who would accompany her through the divided districts and through the treacherous Wastes. Character Template: Name: Nickname(s) Gender: Race: (Though there is only four districts, this is an open field) Age: (Expectancy of all of the races is different, but consider them equivalent to a healthy human’s) Appearance: (Be creative and include as much as you wish) Inventory: (Weapons, armor, accessories) Short Bio: (Birthplace, past career, parents, and mentors all are good starters) Strengths/Weaknesses/Demeanor (Be Reasonable) Note: Any mention of any aspects that come from another game, series, or title are strictly a coincidence. I do not or did not intend to copy anything else in the making of this. And I apologize for any typos. Note: Try to write in the present tense (or something along the lines of it) if possible and use legible grammar so everyone can understand what you are talking about, and punctuation is a must. Thanks Note: If I do not reply for a day or two just continue without me! Sometimes I have internet issues and when I don't my computer access is limited so keep the story going and will be on as much as I can!)
Name: Rosalis Longbow Nickname: None Gender: Female Race: Sorceress on the deathbringer’s side Age: 19 Appearance: Her eyes are a dusky red colour, with a kernel of black dripping from the pupils. She has lengthy shiny black hair, which ripples halfway down her spine like a raven’s wing. Her skin is a receded pale white, and always icy cold. She appears beauteous, catching the eyes of many males. But is a born killer. She is barefooted, but the skin on her feet is absolutely unscratched; with no damage whatsoever. Inventory: She wears a fine obscure black dress, short skirted outlandishly. She has no weapons, but wears comprehensive heart shaped locket; with unknown magical qualities. Short Bio: She used to go by the name Rosaline, but after her small village was invaded by unknown people, and her family slaughtered she turned to the bad side. She grew up with her mentor Alvar, who taught her that she had many abilities; and he helped her develop them. After he was killed by the good side, she took his place. Now she is ready to kill. Strengths/Weaknesses: Her powerful magic is a great ability to harness, and at night time her magic seems to double. But she isn’t immortal, as good magic, drowning and being stabbed in the heart will kill her.
Character Template: Name: Benei Dawnmoon Nickname:Ben Gender: Female Race: Elf Age: 27 Appearance:Tall and wiry with long arms and legs, but has a rather narrow frame. Her eyes are green and her lips are small and plush pink. Her nose is narrow and her chin is soft and rounded while her ears are sharp and flop as she walks. Inventory: A sturdy sword and board that was given to her as a gift from one of her past mentors. Her armor is simple, but noticably authentic. Short Bio: Benei was born in the Elven district and lived there for most of her early life. She was raised regally in the town of Greensong by her mother, and her father, who was missing for most of her early life. By the time she was 16 she had mastered the magical arts of the light and became adept in mending wounds. From there, she worked as a combat nurse for several years until she figured out that her abilities had to be stretched beyond just helping people- she felt she had to join a force where she could end the darkness and stop the plague for the good of everyone. This is when she sought out the Deaf Ones. Strengths/Weaknesses/Demeanor: Benei has a knack to stay calm even in the most tense situations and her face always remains impassive. She treats everyone equally, except enemies- whom she treats with boiling hatred and conviction. Benei also has a nagging addiction to Steelvine Tea and has a slight limp, sustained from a wolf's bite.
Howdy, I thought I'd join in, it sounds pretty fun. Just a heads up though to the GM, you might want to make a discussion thread for this, it'll make things a lot easier. Name: Balendraum Viigar Nicknames: None Gender: Male Race: Human Age: Unknown Appearance: Six and a half feet tall, with shoulder length brown hair, coated in a blue dye. Has a thin angled face, with grey skin, and sunken white eyes. Inventory: A large metal chest piece, over a long-sleeved black shirt. Long leather pants, and large metal plated boots. Wears a blue cape under chest piece. Has an amulet, that is worn as a bracelet on the right wrist. No weapons. No supplies, except for a long thin pipe, and much Girt Leaf. Short Bio: Born and raised in the third district's citadel of Haaren, twenty years before the First War. Was mortally wounded after an attack, but was brought back by a necromancer named Boli. He left the burning ruins of the once great fortress, and now resides in secret, in the Elven district. His body is dead, but his mind and soul are kept living inside the amulet he wears at all times. Strengths/Weaknesses/Demeanor: His strength lies in the fact that he cannot feel pain, and cannot be incapacitated by wounds of the body. (Short of loss of limb, or decapitation.) He can do extremely difficult tasks, since he has no pain to slow him down. His weakness is that he can't empathize. He doesn't kill or injure people intentionally, but he feels no regret when he does. His biggest weakness is his amulet, which if lost or taken, will return his body to the dead. His mind and soul are contained within, and can speak through whatever it is in contact with. He carries himself loosely, with a slow walk, and never runs. Has no regard for safety or time, and will march right onto a field of battle if the mood strikes him.
Name: Larien Knote Nickname(s) None Gender: Male Race: Elf Age: 23 Appearance: Tall and perfectly proportioned. His hair is a satin blonde and would fall all the way to his lower back if he did not have it braided intricately. His eyes are a emerald green. He stands at 6'0 tall, and weighs only around 180 lbs. Inventory: He carries a handcrafted Elven wooden bow, and many arrows. The bow is has carvings of the First War decorating it. His armor is a sturdy, yet light, leather, easy to move in but hard to penetrate. It is a dark black with mixes of light green on his helmet feathers. He carries a long fine silver longsword, that is holstered in a beautiful light leather holder. Short Bio: Born into a poor family Larien learned that he had to steal for what he needed, even in the beautiful Elven city. One day he was caught by one of his would-be victims, but instead of getting angry the man invited him in and fed him. He gave him nice clothes, Larien was grateful and asked the man if he could stay with him, he lied and told him that his family was dead. The man accepted and allowed Larien to live there, and after Larien got used to house the man told him that he was an Elven Knight. He offered to teach Larien to learn, and Larien agreed. Larien was taught to be a Knight for 10 years. When he was sixteen he got a job as the Blacksmith's Apprentice, so he could repair his armor and weapons when the time rose. Strengths/Weaknesses/Demeanor (Be Reasonable) His strengths are his compassion for others, as an Elf should have, and his training as a Knight. His skill to repair armor and weapons. His weaknesses include his cockiness, and his compassion for others.
Ok, I can't resist... Let me know if I need make any changes. Name: Sephira Couresel Gender: Female Race: Half Human, Half Fallen Age: 21 Appearance: A fairly average height and build, there is nothing especially striking about her - except her snow white hair and icy grey eyes. Her hair is feathery and about shoulder-length. Facial structure is rather soft, belying the hardness in her eyes. Inventory: She wears full, plated silver armor that is much lighter than it looks and surprisingly silent. When examined closely, tiny designs can be seen carved into the metal. In fighting, she uses a bastard sword in her main hand and a dagger in her left. The dagger's blade is intricately etched to look like a wing. Aside from what is needed for battle, she brings only the bare minimum of supplies. When she wishes to be less conspicuous, she wears a voluminous black hooded cloak over her hair and armor. Due to certain career choices in the recent past, she has no shortage of funding at the moment. Short Bio: Raised in a very outlying village, Sephira never knew her father. Her mother was beautiful, with dark brown hair and deep brown eyes. Her skin was a fine white while Sephira's retained an olive tone. The people in her village were always nice to them - though it almost seemed forced. When Sephira was 18, she returned from market day in a nearby town to find her hometown in flames from passing raiders. There were no survivors. With no warning, the sky went from clear to stormy. As the tears cascaded down her face, they were matched by rain drops. Almost as though the sky was crying with her. A lone man came to her out of the darkness. His head and face were covered, but she could still see his eyes burning out at her. Those cold, clear eyes. He set down a suit of armor and two weapons in front of her, whispering "Be strong, little one." He kissed her on the forehead and vanished without a trace. Since that day, her heart has been hardened and not a tear has been shed. She took the items and quickly became adept in the ways of battle. Even now, the weather can sometimes take a turn for the worse if anger gets the better of her. Strengths/Weaknesses/Demeanor: Very strong for her gender and size, impressive fortitude, wings (not yet known), local weather matches any strong emotion she might be having (suspected). Sometimes reckless and short-tempered, doesn't trust easily, often conspicuous, moral grey area. Demeanor stays cold and aloof most times unless someone manages to tweak her temper. Enjoys the thrill of battle.
Looks good so far everyone- going to wait a little longer to see if anyone else wishes to join. Just a note- we are all going to be part of the Deaf Ones or at least working together against an active environment and NPCs which myself or others can bring into existence, within reasonable parameters. Once everyone who is interested signs up, we can then begin. We will start at the meeting grounds which I have provided in the first post. I have also created a discussion thread where any questions or comments can be posted and feel free to provide or change any details that you see fit- especially in the strengths/weakness line- because these will provide good staples for the non-dialogue storytelling portion.
Name: Trucido Gender: Male Race: Elf Age: ~23 Appearance: Tall with stark green eyes and long, shining blond hair; he resembles nothing less than an elven noble. He is well known for his beauty, and he uses it to his advantage. He is not muscular, but has a lithe, serpentine grace to him. Inventory: Wears light leather armor under expensive garbs of shades of green. In his belt he holds five knives; two curved slashing knives, a heavier kukri style knife, a thin stiletto, and a sword breaker, a parrying knife with a row of long teeth on one side. Also carries a great number of throwing knives hidden on his person, including in his jacket, his sleeves, and his boots. Short Bio: Trucido does not technically have humble beginnings. He was born into a family of Elven nobles who owned a prestigious trading company. He was raised as a noble, and acts as one. However, when he was still young, his family was slaughtered by a traitor from within his own family. Trucido survived by pure chance, a lethal strike just hardly missing. He was unable to save the young girl who was both his childhood friend as well as the girl whom he was arranged to marry later in life. He never forgave himself for that, and never forgot her cries. He lived on the streets, barely surviving for years before he was recognized by an old business partner of the family, a wizard who traded in magical artifacts. The wizard declined the training at first, but relented, preparing Trucido to take revenge, but more importantly to ready him to fight for a greater cause. Trucido eventually tracked down and killed the traitor. After his vengeance had been given, he found and joined the Deaf Ones. Not to save the world or any similar such nonsense. Rather, to gather the resources to start anew the trading company his family had once controlled. Both by gathering plunder from the slain wicked and from creating ties and garnering favors with groups and people across Teledring. Strengths/Weaknesses/Demeanor: Trucido, despite not being a noble for years, still acts as a noble and treats otherwise as nothing more than third class citizens, if even that. His ego has no equal. Trucido has no interest in fighting fair, and will do whatever it takes for him to win, be it a knife in the back or a silent assassination in the dead of night. His strengths lie in his ability with knives of all sorts, his ability to sneak both quickly and quietly, and his magic. He practices lightning as well as a kind of wind magic. With the wind magic he uses wind to bend some of the light from around his person, to soften his footfalls, to generally increase his stealth. He cannot become invisible with it, but is none the less harder to find and track. His lightning magic is used to strike quickly and with devastating power. It is not a stealthy magic, being loud and bright. But by the time the thunder of his attacks has crashed, the lightning has already struck and he has slipped away into the wind. Trucido has little physical strength however, and has a severe weakness for women in need. The need to help the damsel in distress, as well as fulfill any vengeance clouds his mind and judgement.
Name: Theophilus Black Nickname(s): just “Theo” (the surname is actually his alter ego, known only as “Black”) Gender: male Race: seems human… Age: 27 Appearance: In human form, he’s about 5’10” with short brunette hair, dark brown eyes, and glasses. Not particularly well-built by any means, but not exceptionally thin either. Usually wears plain black or brown trousers, a light button-up shirt, with a dark wool vest, a knitted cap, and either a cloak or long coat. A very unassuming, bookish fellow, he’d be more at home in a library than on an adventure. Theophilus is capable of taking the form of an ancient chimera, known only as “Black.” In this form, he is about 7’6” at full height, and has a shadowy semi-translucent complexion, like looking through darkened glass. Black has a dense musculature, and appears mostly reptilian or dragon-like. He/it has four long claws on each appendage, a thick scaly tail, a wolf’s head and jaws with swept-back horns and four narrow red eyes, the large wings of an eagle on his back, and a mane of serpents. Theo rarely takes this form for long and is incapable of doing so in direct sunlight. He is not sure if Black is some form of demon or ancient spirit. Inventory: A pack with basic survival gear, such as extra clothing, water, dried rations, medicinal herbs, and some rope. His only weapons are a simple longsword and hunting knife; nothing special. He is not an exceptional swordsman by any means. Short Bio: Theo has no memories predating his adolescent years. He was raised by a poor farmer and his wife, who did not hide the fact that he was not their child. He first began to have ‘problems’ with Black around age fifteen. The creature had a mind of its own and would take control of him against his will, sometimes speaking to him in dreams or as a voice in his head. Around age eighteen, he set out on his own, choosing to leave his village before he could hurt anyone. He wanted to find out what he truly was and why this ‘thing’ was inside of him, but he was mostly just seeking a way to get rid of it and become fully human. Over the following years, he slowly unraveled the mystery while searching for his true parents. He found that he was not born, but made. his ‘mother’ was a powerful witch known only as Sylvania the Sorceress, said to dwell somewhere deep in The Wastes. He continues to passively search for her, though he is unsure what he will do if he ever finds this woman. Strengths/Weaknesses: Theo is capable of fully transforming into the creature, but Black is a shadow chimera, and thus cannot survive sunlight. Not to mention such transformations would be incredibly draining. He usually just alters portions of his body, instead of performing a full transformation; each portion grants him a special ability. The head of the wolf gives him superb sight and hearing. The dragon’s claws are resistant to heat and can be used to slash opponents. Similarly, the dragon’s hind claws allow him to walk across hot surfaces. The mane of serpents allows him to constrict opponents and has a non-toxic venom that serves as a tracker. Once-bitten, he can detect a person’s whereabouts, allowing him to track that person. Lastly, Black is too heavy to fly, but the long eagle’s wings can wrap around him like an armored cloak, fending off light attacks, such as arrows. Demeanor: As Theo, he is mild-mannered, very friendly and approachable, and not easily angered. He is generous and always comes to the aid of others, but is a pacifist to a fault. Black, however, is always feeding negative thoughts to him as a voice in his head. Black does not believe in right or wrong or good or evil; he only believes in ‘necessary’ and ‘unnecessary’ and is willing to do whatever he deems necessary. Moral arguments are worthless to him, and he will kill just about anyone or anything if it suits his purposes. In short, Theo’s a nice guy, Black isn’t. However, they have achieved something of a ying-yang relationship and exist symbiotically.
I'm posting this! Name: Iris den Rengefortr Nickname: The Rune-Magus Gender: Female Race: Dwarf Age: 32 Appearance: Much like any other dwarf, she is short and stout, standing at 4ft 4 inches, and has a curvy figure – large bosom, large hips. Her hair is dark brown and long, but is tied up and braided, so she can easily conceal it under a steel-plated helmet she wears when she deems it appropriate. Her eyes are brown as well, and her face is a bit stern, with bushy eyebrows. She isn’t ugly, but isn’t the most attractive of women either. During missions with the Deaf Ones, she wears light, dwarvern chainmail armor, with steel-plated chestplate, shoulder, knee, and elbow and shin pads – all imbued with runestones (necessary for the ancient art of Rune Magic, which she practises). When she isn’t on a mission, she dresses in common linen or cotton robes/dresses, shirts or trousers. Inventory: She wears a girdle at all times, imbued with various useful runestones. She also has a satchel with extra runestones, for forging or one-time use. She uses a cudgel – a one handed hammer-type weapon that dwarves commonly use – in case she needs to partake in melee combat, which rests at her right hip. She also has a rune-inscribing blade, allowing her to carve the runes into material that she carries or can be found in the surrounding environments. Short Bio: Iris’ father, Yuryl den Rengefortr, was the leading Runeforger in the Dwarvern district (the only district to have ever used such a form of magic). However, the amount of Runeforgers in the dwarvern district had been slowly decreasing since the First War, with the increase of mechanical production and engineering in the dwarvern community. When Iris’ father passed away, at age 67, the Runeforger guild disbanded. Iris, who had been trained by her father since she was very young, and was more than adept at Runeforging, fought to keep the tradition alive, as she believed it to be a great asset to the dwarves. But, the Council of Iron deemed it anti-progressive, and claimed their new defence mechanisms would be enough to sustain their cities and protect their people from the DeathBringer’s impending wrath. Consequently, they exiled all Runeforgers, which caused Iris to seek out other ways of fighting against the DeathBringer and his forces of evil – she sought the Deaf Ones. Having been with them for a few years now, Iris is one of veteran members, and has taken on and helped with many missions. Her ultimate goal however is to use her prowess to save her people, and has made a promise to be there when they need her. Strengths/Weaknesses/Demeanor: She is kind-hearted, unlike most dwarves, who have been manipulated into a sense of foreboding, paranoia, and selfish-ness, by the current members of the Iron Council. Her strengths lie in her magic, which is protection focused, although since joining the Deaf Ones, she has been delegating a lot more destructive runes into her arsenal as well. Her weaknesses are her size, her sense of compassion, and her fragility in terms of physical strength. She also doesn’t like to see a lot of blood.
Here goes: In the mountains of Raiyek- the meeting had commenced as it always had and always will- with silence. There were no drums of war for moral and ego, there were no mystical or odd rituals or candles to set the mood or to establish an ominous ambience, and there was no one who didn't belong. These were the elites of the elite. They were strong mentally and physically and they had long ago mastered their arts; fully understanding why they are where they are today. Across the Wastes the Deathbringer's power continues to grow endlessly- his forces made of leaf and rind. Of the air and of the dirt. Of sorrow and pain. Like insects they fed off of the warmth that fear provided and the moisture that the tears of the hopeless dropped from their eyes and down their face. Benei looked at the faces- some familiar, but most faceless. Some of them were cloaked and others were equipped with bejeweled gear that was unintentionally showy and flashy. She did not mind how these others dressed themselves or how they armed themselves- they knew what worked for them, just as she did for herself. A steady sword, a firm buckler, and a ambivalent facial expression that offered no emotion but a glimpse of hope. "Hello, my fellow Deaf Ones," she offered. "I am Benei Dawnmoon and we have been endowed with quite the task," she then waited. Waited for the next of the group to speak their mind and offer their insight. The Deathbringer would not wait forever and their journey would start soon.
Name: Cayden Ames Nickname: none Gender: male Race: human Age: 20 Appearance: Cayden is small for his age. He has long white blonde hair and bright green eyes. He would be very lovely to look at if not for the ugly scar down his left eye. Inventory: Cayden is not a fighter and so he carries no weapons. He has a gold amulet he wears around his neck and he wears no armor Short Bio: Cayden was born to a wealthy military family, his father and five older brothers having fought in many wars. After his brothers were killed in battle his father grew impatient with Cayden's refusal to fight alongside him. He attacked Cayden and slashed his face and threw Cayden out of his house and left him to die. Strengths/Weaknesses/Demeanor: His greatest strength is his bright personality and his ability to make friends. His weakness is that he can be childish sometimes and a bit stubborn. Cayden is easygoing and fun loving. He's always smiling and happy but behind that Cayden feels hurt by his father's betrayal and that hurt runs deeper than the scar on his face.
Balendraum Viigar Balendraum stood amidst the large crowd of people. A chill breeze blew through the ranks of men and women, causing several to shudder instinctively. "Hello my fellow Deaf Ones." Spoke a pointy eared woman suddenly. Balendraum turned his attention to the speaker. The Deaf Ones. In truth, he knew nothing about them, or their cause, other than pursuing the downfall of one Deathbringer. He had heard two Elves whispering about a secret meeting. Alas that he wasn't more stealthy. He had been caught overhearing the tall angled Elves, who fell upon him, cutting him down with curved blades. Balendraum could have smiled. Taking him for dead, the Elves had finished their conversation, and left to journey to the Raiyek Mountains. After pulling himself to his feet, Balendraum had followed. Defeating evil? Fighting for the greater good? It all sounded fairly interesting, and he knew it would be a spectacle to see. "I am Benei Dawnmoon and we have been endowed with quite the task," The Elven woman continued, peering out into the silent crowd, as if expecting someone to speak. "No weapon?" An Elf standing beside me whispered in a sneer. "Do I need one?" The Elf raised an eyebrow at me, and the sneer pulled further across his face; but not before momentary surprise. "Are you a ventriloquist?" The Elf asked mockingly, as another speaker stepped forward to address the crowd. Balendraum lit his pipe, and placed it in his still mouth. The Elf no longer interested him, no more words were needed. He fixed his attention to the new speaker.
A gentle, cold wind crept up Iris' spine, but she did little to satisfy its teasing. Up here in the mountains of Raiyek, Iris felt like she was at a home away from home. She preferred her solidarity as much as she liked companionship, and this was a great place to collect one's thoughts. It was also a great place for secret meetings - secret meetings that hadn't happened for a number of years. Ever since she had joined the deaf ones, some eight years ago, Iris had always attempted to guess at the size of the task force, but this was more than she had imagined. The meeting was in a small canyon between the mountains, and she could only make out as many people as the fingers on her hands. "Hello my fellow Deaf Ones." said an elf who Iris knew was skilled in healing magic, as they had worked together before."I am Benei Dawnmoon and we have been endowed with quite the task." Murmurs started to spread around the enclosure - people discussing what they knew, what they had heard about, all confirming the same things. Some were squabbling about others' weapons, gear, and reputation, all sizing up and measuring against each other. You put a load of skilled, named warriors in a tight enclosure, and a pissing-contest was what you got. Albeit, it seemed everybody was well informed about the mission already - except for one little detail. Iris then decided to do the next most reasonable thing, ignoring the chatter around her and being practical at heart. She stood up - not that it did much to draw attention to her, being a dwarf and all - and asked, "who will go?"
There were more of them than he had expected. Punctuality was paramount, so Theo had arrived early, in an attempt at making a good first impression. Being one of the first to arrive had also given him a chance to watch the others trickle in. One could learn a lot from simply watching people and, if nothing else, Theo was a good people-watcher. Over the course of a few minutes, the Deaf Ones filed into the meeting space and seated themselves or stood amongst the rocks. He didn’t recognize any of them, but that was to be expected. Theo was a relatively new recruit. He had crossed paths with a Deaf One only a few months ago, purely by happenstance. He saved an elf from an assassin in the dead of night and, during a trip to the pub immediately after the incident, the elf told him about a ring and a meeting. This meeting. But the hour was nigh and the elf was nowhere in sight. Dead? Missing? ‘Maybe he’s just late,’ Theo told himself for reassurance. ‘He’s dead, you moron,’ Black scolded him, the chimera’s voice screeching in his head. ‘And I wouldn’t hold my breath on the rest of ‘em either. Look at this sorry lot... I give ‘em a week. No, three days! Do these fools actually think they stand a chance against the Deathbringer? Laughable.’ Theo just slowly shook his head. ‘I admit, things look bleak,’ he responded mentally, ‘but where there’s hope, there’s-’ ‘Disappointment,’ Black concluded. ‘That’s why I don’t waste time hoping. Hope is for fools.’ Theo let the discussion end there. He had long ago learned there was no sense in arguing with Black; there was no sense in arguing with one who always believed himself to be correct. He was doing more than just hoping. He was going to take action. That’s why he’d come. A female elf stood and spoke the first words of the meeting. "Hello, my fellow Deaf Ones," she began. "I am Benei Dawnmoon and we have been endowed with quite the task." Theo could not see her well in the fading light, but he decided she seemed fair enough based on her words alone. Somehow, he imagined these ‘Deaf Ones’ would be a lot rougher, but this one seemed agreeable. There were murmurs all around and a dwarf rose next to ask the obvious question. "Who will go?" She asked adamantly. ‘Ah, another who favors action over hope,’ Black snarled in Theo’s mind. ‘I like this one. Perhaps we shall eat her later. Tell her I would like to eat her, please.’ Ignoring his partner’s jest, Theo stood. “Count me in,” he said calmly, raising a hand. “Theophilus Black. A pleasure to meet you all,” he introduced himself with a small bow, removing his cap. “I was referred by one ‘Jarvell Vernir,’ an elven fellow I met in Kalimshire. But he, um…” Theo took a brief look around, “doesn’t seem to be here.” The chimera laughed in his head. 'That’s because he’s dead, stupid. I bet the wolves dined well on his rotting flesh.’
Balendraum Viigar Balendraum waited for someone to answer the call. It was not long, before a short bespectacled man arose, and declared, “Count me in. Theophilus Black. A pleasure to meet you all." Balendraum watched the man remove his cap, and bow slightly. He observed the man's tight grip on his hat, and as he rose, noticed small shadows about the man's eyes. “I was referred by one ‘Jarvell Vernir,’" He continued, with a gesture, "An elven fellow I met in Kalimshire. But he, um…” He scanned the crowd before continuing, “doesn’t seem to be here.” Having said his piece, and with the oppressive silence once again reigning over the canyon, the man Theophilius shrank back to his original position. The Dwarf woman who had spoken earlier nodded, and said, "Anyone else?" "I'll go." Balendraum felt a slight annoyance as everyone stared past him to see if someone short and unassuming had spoken from behind him. Releasing a thin stream of smoke from his nostrils, and after taking another puff from the pipe, he raised his hand. "Me." "And you are?" The Dwarf woman asked, with a curious expression, "I haven't seen you before." "No, you haven't. My name is Balendraum Viigar." Having said all he wanted to, he took several steps back, and sat down on an outcrop of the canyon wall. Somewhere deep within his body, creeping up his arm from the amulet, was an overpowering excitement. He wished for all the world that he could have smiled. This was going to be fun.
Sure, the isolated crags of a desolate mountain were a good place for meeting in secret, but it seemed so amateur. Bands of raiders met in the mountains, not elite forces. The mountain was isolated, yes, but anyone for miles around would be able to see them sitting here atop the mountain. One well placed spell could collapse the side of the mountain killing them all. A well trained sharpshooter could pick them off from the neighboring peaks. Trucido Cruentus didn't like it. The idea of being so open to possible assault severely bothered him. It may be just paranoia, but he had survived the streets thanks to paranoia. Never allow a chance for attack, cover all blind spots, don't stay two steps ahead, stay four steps ahead. It may seem irrational to some, but his paranoia was not that of a scared rat or guilty spy. It was a calm, calculating paranoia, the kind that keeps assassins alive, that allows the perceptive to evade danger. It had saved Trucido's life countless times, and it was a trait he cherished. He would have preferred to be meeting in a predesignated location such as a member's home or a guild-house of sorts. Guarded by protective spells and wards to protect from assault as well as enchantments to damped sound leaking through the walls to stop any eavesdroppers. Such a meeting place would be easier to defend and safer to meet at. There were too many great warriors here to be attacked directly, but assassinations aren't direct. While Trucido's careful paranoia raged, he studied the other Deaf Ones, sizing each up as best he could, watching how they moved, what weapons they carried. He kept an eye on the surrounding terrain, trying to keep an eye on any possible attacks as well as planning escape routes. For the time being, everything seemed to be safe, and none of the members present seemed to be plotting anything. Trucido kept one eye watching though, just in case. Dawnmoon had begun the precedings, and members were signing up to take up their newest task. Recover a ring from an armory near the Jurian Nile. The ring was of no interest to Trucido, but an armory holding such an item was bound to carry many more such rare items as well as a wealth of expensive arms. Such an armory would go a long way in funding his trade company. Trucido had sent a message to his dealers nearby the area to be ready for a large influx of arms and artifacts. If this went well, he would be able to expand into more of the districts and establish faster, more efficient trade routes. Trucido was fairly new to the organization, and did not yet understand the groups customs. There were warriors here who had never attended meeting before, and Dawnmoon was asking people to take up this quest. It all seemed foolish to Trucido. The group seemed to have no heirarchy, no leader, and was far too easy to infiltrate. Had he wanted to and arrived early enough he could have laid magical traps to kill off the entire group. It didn't seem safe. Of course, once again, that was merely paranoia. Perhaps very true paranoia, but paranoia. It would be foolish to continue to associate with such a group, but the rewards were to great to pass up. He'd just have to be careful. A number had signed up, and Trucido decided it was time to speak up as well. "I will join," Trucido spoke from where he stood a little away from the rest of the group, "Trucido, last and rightful heir of the Cruentus family, owner and proprietor of the New Cruentus Trading Co., and student under Honorius the Mage." "I care not about defeating any darklords or saving humanity or anything of the sort. So if you're going to die as part of some noble sacrifice, leave me out of it."
Sephira had heard whisperings of this group, the Deaf Ones. She had even been invited on a couple of their missions before in passing. If their goal seemed exciting enough, she joined in. She cared not for noble causes or great riches, just give her something to fight. This new quest sounded like it could provide just that. Battle was the only thing that drove her these days. Menial tasks quickly became boring and tedious. Settling down was just not in her blood... whatever that blood may be. She's had her suspicions about what exactly her father was. Just one of those lifelong questions that would probably have no answer. Leaning against the stone cliffside and looking around at the large gathering, Sephira was surprised at just how many of these Deaf Ones there were. The ones she had come upon were average and unassuming, yet this meeting was filled with warriors and others of all shapes and sizes. An elf stepped up and introduced herself, commenting on the direness of the task presented. A dwarf spoke next, asking who would go. A young man with glasses volunteered first. Though seemingly unexceptional, Sephira got a strange vibe from him. Something she couldn't quite place... Two more offered their services before she made up her mind. Releasing her tight hold on her cloak and letting the hood fall, Sephira moved forward from her vantage point to a spot more easily heard from. "I am Sephira. Though my credentials may not be flashy," her eyes darted to the elf that just spoke, "I am willing to fight against anything that stands in our path." And with that, she melted back into the crowd. A cold smile touched her lips as she placed a hand on the hilt of her sword. Soon there would be something to put the fire in her blood again.
Cayden sat back in his chair watching the others who were far too serious for his liking. He wasn't even supposed to be here, really. He didn't really have much to offer but he knew he had to do this. This is my chance. My chance to show my father. He'll be sorry for what he did to me.He tugged absently on the gold amulet and stood up smiling broadly the scar on his face stretched gruesomely when he did this he knew people would stare but he smiled anyway like he always did. " I'll go. Although I should warn you all I'm not much of a fighter and I'll probably die but whats life without a little risk?" he joked trying fruitlessly to lighten the mood. "My name is Cayden by the way, Cayden Ames." No one seemed too impressed with his joke or him in general and he was quite upset by this. " Tough crowd" he said under breath and sat down, disappointed.
Many of the warriors, as hardened as they were, seemed daunted by the task of taking down the Deathbringer, as only a few stood up to volunteer. Iris deduced that a great number of the Deaf Ones were only really part of the elite group because it gave them a certain, if not vague and secretive, reputation - they weren't all truly fearless, frightening, and fierce. This was confirmed even more when the last one, a Cayden Ames, stood up and introduced himself. "I'll go. Although I should warn you all I'm not much of a fighter and I'll probably die but whats life without a little risk?" He was like a white lamb in the midst of a cattle of bulls. His innocence made Iris feel sorry for him - how had he even come to be at this meeting? Nonetheless, she had faith in most people, and first impressions weren't always the most important. If this boy was willing to do what it took to bring down the Deathbringer, then she had no objection. The only thing she was worried about was that he may impede them. "Well, I'm definitely in," she informed the masses, looking around for more to volunteer, preferably Benei - they were six at the moment.
Rosalis brushed her meandering blond tresses to the left, peeking through the multitude; her crimson red eyes glittering in the daylight. She was excellent at disguising herself, blending into her surrounding; but with her malevolence, she wasn’t sure whether to intermingle for longer or finally attack. Her adrenaline was building higher and higher. Maybe just one spell she thought. Her insatiable smile melted into a forbidding glower; as her the red in her eyes seemed to increase, mimicking that attributes of fire. She could hear the request for Benei to join drumming within the girls head. Her premeditated beam faded into oblivion; followed by the red in her eyes. What was she doing? Waiting. She discoloured into the crowd behind her, weaving lightly in and out of the people; making her way around the back of Benei.
The impressiveness of the group was fading quickly. So few volunteers. How could these people even claim to be warriors? While that one kid may not have been awe-inspiring, at least he had guts. She was still waiting suspiciously for the elf maiden to step forward. Would this Benei be one more among the cowardly masses? Sephira's attention was diverted momentarily as a tingle went down her spine. Her eyes snapped to the crowd. Something wasn't right. There was definitely a malevolent feel a moment ago but now it was gone. She made her way slowly through the crowd, searching for what might have caused her sudden wariness. She couldn't sense it anymore. All trace had vanished. Shifting uneasily, Sephira looked around to see if anyone else had felt the strange presence.
Benei had a tendency to take charge of situations that were much beyond her control. It was just something she did. She looked around passively- as a painter would a blank canvas on an easel. She did not hold the brush, yet, she still felt she had to paint this picture. Many of the Deaf Ones looked worried or touched by a ghostly presence- others looked too confident and full of themselves. They were moping and scowling or looking at one another as if they were nothing but a meal. Benei felt she had to say something comforting- something to bring them together and make them realize that they were all in this together . She stood and talked boldly but calmly- much like a father would to their child. "You all must be wondering how the one sitting near you got here, yes? You must all be wondering why we can stop the Deathbringer? What makes us special? Nothing does I suppose." She cleared here throat. "The Deaf Ones are to obtain this ring by any means. If not us, then who? This question is much harder to answer than why we are on these scorching peaks, I believe." Benei smiled to each face, "Whether you were once a criminal, or a vagabond, or a nurse like me- it does not matter now. Our wasted youths and impeccable innocence does not matter in these mountains- only task job does. This goal is what unites us and makes us whole again. We have not chosen this, we we chosen; this is our new life, and if we do not have strength or mystical powers we still have something that others don't- a common goal. There is no civil unrest or power struggle between us, and there is no brother against brother, no- none of that. We are in this for hope, and we are all comrades. So- let us all clear away this smoke that blurs our vision and closes our hearts. The Wastes will swallow us alive if we do not have eachother's backs. We have work to do." The wind began to pick up as the sun disappeared behind a haze of clouds. Could it be a sign? If so- of ill omen or opportunity? The sky was where most looked when everything else was hidden or elusive. When there was something just out of reach- the stars or the ocean of blue was always there shining brightly. That is what they needed to do- be a storm of light in a cavern of blackness.
