At the far reaches of the universe is a planet called Third Earth. It is a time of warrior’s mystic’s magicians and Kings. The sky here is grey when at day and black at the night. There is no sun to brighten the lands. Many different races live here many chose to fight and others chose to quest across the lands some quest until death reaps them. The kings pay handsome rewards for deeds done bounty’s collected and trophies returned. Dragons will occasionally set flight across the skies looking to burn villages and other warriors who dare to battle these giant creatures. Sometimes but rarely you will glimpse a mighty Red dragon they are but legends within themselves told to be the strongest of Dragons yet they carry the warmest of hearts towards life Unless…………….. King Victor Arcadius the first Rules the land known as Blackthorne this is the last place governed by Men. Blackthorne is the wealthiest land on all of Third Earth. In Blackthorne many travellers come to seek fortune and rewards. King Victor Arcadius the first calls for all who will Journey to the darkest corners of Third Earth looking for a precious Red Dragon Pearl. He fears if it falls into the hands of those who possess the dark powers well he fears for the realm of man. The Red Dragon Pearl. The Red Dragon Pearl. is a powerful orb that has the ability to sommon the Red Dragons Also Queen Mortina Seeks this Pearl Should she succeed then she will unleash the dragons upon Blackthorne and taking the land of man for her own chaotic realm This journey will be perilous route with all kinds of Dangers On your Journey you will face the Dragons of Reds Deep the Orc’s Giants and the retched goblins, you will even face the undead. But worst of all these adversaries you will face the Dark Army Of Chaos controlled by Mortina. The Game You will travel across Third Earth in search of the Red Dragon Pearl. fighting off any dangers. Its up to you if you wish to team up together or travel as a loner. Your Stats Only two players can be magicians For each character type there can only be two no more. That way we don’t have t10 dwarfs or ten magicians and one Knight. Race: (Knight, Noble, Elf, Dwarf, Warrior priest, Magician, Hobbit, White Witch, Barbarian, Bounty Hunter,) Age: Weapons: (Max Three) Armour: (Light, Medium Heavy) Occupation: If a Magician or White Witch What Spells do you have. (Max Three) Sex: Personality: Appearance: As the games goes I will from time to time post in a situation for you to solve or fight your way out of. Please only join if you will be actively playing regularly
ok, I'll be the first to post on this one. it sound qite good so, here it goes. Heather i assume you wanted a name: Karmelina Race: White Witch Age: 178 Weapons: wand, sword, Armour: cloak is imperishable Three spells: disarm a baddie spell cast a little light giving orb a spell that will fetch things that is out of her reach Sex: female Personality: strong willed and determined in her search for the Red Dragon Pearl, she is very stubborn and can be narrow minded. Is very helpful and cannot help but stop and help people around here. Has a lot of experience and wisdom, and although she seems rather boring at times, once people get to know her she has exciting tales to tell about her youth. Appearance: She keeps her sword in a pouch in her cloak, and her wand tucked up her sleeve.http://princesselemmiriel.deviantart.com/art/Snow-White-62581049
Name (I guess it should be there...): Arthurus (Deceased) Race: Magician Age: 900 Weapons: Staff, Magical orb, Flying Carpet Armour: Diamond Gown Occupation: If a Magician or White Witch What Spells do you have: Weather change (only effective within 1 km square of her reach) State change (change an object into liquid, gas or solid, around the size of a school-bag max) Rose colored glasses (create illusions and hide the real deal, only effective for non-telekinetic beings, and for limited time i.e. 24 hours.) Sex: Female Personality: Arthurus is a really reserved magician, who likes to have it silent and smooth. She likes to make friends but only after observing them for ample time. She has no interest in riches, but she wants to keep her life 'moving and exciting', thus she takes up any possiblity to get herself busy and into danger. She has a daughter who she does not want to disclose about to anyone, particularly her ex-husband Luzare. Appearance: For the face: Witch by ~zajdausacek on deviantART (not my work) As far as the dress code is concerned, she wears long gowns, usually white or black, no other variation. On her daughter's birthday she wears her favorite color, lavender. She always rolls a shawl over her body as well, even in summers. She is otherwise thin despite her love for food. I thought I'd bring it in notice that she's dead now. Tralala.
Race: Knight Age:36 Weapons: Long Sword, Long Bow, Spiked Shield Armour: Medium, Looks like Dragon skin and has horns on helm. with wings on back for show. Occupation: Protector Of innocent, Helper Of Weak Sex:Male Personality: This man is one of honor. With his long sword by his side and his shield in hand he feels invincible. He is a man of good morals and would never harm an innocent person. He like to Play the Pan pipes he carries with him wherever he goes and is a great appreciator of the fine arts. Appearance: This tall man with light tan skin stands six feat and 7 inches tall. His face is hidden by his helmet that looks like a dragons head, but when he does take it off he has long brown hair and blue eyes. He has a scar over his left eye that goes from two inches under his eye to his hair line, his left eye is all white and it is hard for him to see out of it. Not my work. Me in my armor
Name: Rahania race: Elf Age: 372 Weapon: duel wielded light swords armour: light chain mail vest made from fine silver. Re enforced silver plated boots with shin high guards a pale blue coloured cloak and tanned leather leggings. occupation: mercenary for the guild of blood immortal sex: female personality: rahania is fiery and spirited and always ready to jump in a fight or start it depending on her mood. She's a loyal friend and to her enemy's a rival without compare. she is often concidered cold and overly motivated. appearance Spring Wind by ~Ugly-baka-girl on deviantART not my work
RACE Human Bounty hunter NAME Eirian Pheonix AGE 23 WEAPONS A sword with a curved blade made from silver, the hilt is black and rumoured to be made from dragon bones, a dagger, and an axe (think the scythe axe from Buffy! ) ARMOR LIght OCCUPATION Bounty Hunter/Thief SEX Female APPEARENCE Eirian has long black hair, sometimes tied back but tends to come undone. Her eyes are frosted silver. Sharp features and built like a warrior. She has broad shoulders and is stronger than most men from her training. She wears dark brown, almost black supple leather pants (not the vinyl stuff, just nice supple leather), a black belt black boots, a dark brown long-sleeved shirt under a black leather jerkin. She wears a black cloak with a hood and leather cuffs on her wrists. She also wears black fingerless gloves. She wears a coin along with a small key on a silver chain. She has a few rings, one on her wedding finger but will not reveal if she is married. There is also a faint scar on her neck and several scars from earlier fights PERSONALITY Eirian is generally a cold person that keeps to herself. She's in it for the money but grudgingly helps those in need. She trains hard and is a formidable opponant. She loathes nobles and the King, presumably because she is of noble blood and hates her family for tearing her away from her former husband. She chose to live a life as a bounty hunter and thief. ~~~~ I know I could of written this up better but this will have to do! Doz.
Name: Intifanie Age: 372 minus <4 minutes younger than sister> Race: Elf Job Description: Mercenary, master of poisons Weapons: Pinion <Big silver arc laced with daggers that have poisonous tips>, Cross Bow with poisonous tips. dart gun <shoots miniature darts that have poison pocket in them and are injected into the victim on impact> Armor: steel plated shoulder pads crested with the head of a wolf, silk shirt, leather steel plated jerkin, reinforced leather riding pants, silver plated knee high boots, red sash around waist, black cloak and red silk gloved. Personality: Intifanie is a very temper mental person, she is extremely independent, brooding and doesn’t take well to authority figures. She is a bit of a seductress, using her grace, charm and beauty to get what she wants and where she needs to go in life and will always get want she wants or will use her poisons to kill anyone who tries to stop her or use them as a threat. She is devious and crafty. She has a severe attitude problem and loathes her twin sister Rahaina who is 4 minutes older than her. She is loyal when she feels the need to be but can be the biggest back stabber you could ever imagine. She will put a poison dart in your back if you aren’t careful and has no remorse or pity. Her and her sister both blame each other for the death of their parents and for them both being banished from their home country. She hates humans deeply but works for a human guild also a part of the Guild Blood Of Immortal. Appearance: http://vic-mon.deviantart.com/art/EVE-37833300 - not my work!
This game is ready for play. Anyone who wishes to join in can do so at any point in the game just do a profile for your charactor and then begin playing.
I wasn't quite sure where to start this off so I thought what better starting point for a fantasy RPG then a Inn **** The Mediva Inn was a hive of activity. Glasses clinked, wench's in scarlet served and whores tittered and giggled by a stairwell. the Inn smelt of pipe smoke mingling with that of old cedar thrown onto a red hot hearth. Rahania let out a heavy sigh, her pale blue cloak drawn over her head like a curtain hiding her face from the rest of the patrons. She sat over a large mug of ale like a witch sitting over a scrying bowl. Staring into the amber depths she watched as a cloud of forth travelled to the mugs edge and rested. A small hand seemed to appear out of nowhere and Rahania grimaced, damned urchins they were everywhere. Rahania lifted her head and gave the child a taste of her elfan eyes. The hand froze and the young boys jaw dropped with shock. "Be off with ya, ye wee tid bit. Tis far past yer bedtime." the boy turned with out so much as a scream and high tailed it. Rahania looked down to her feet where her half wolf half domesticated dog was laying. His big head rested on his gigantic paws. "And ye wonder why I named ye mange," she scorned. The dog merely opened his eyes to half slits and then closed them again. Rahania sat a little straighter recalling the reason she had came to the inn. The guild of blood had requested it of her. A fine patron had called upon the guild offering to pay very handsomely for the retrieval of a precious item known as the Red dragon pearl. Of course Rahania was not the only mercenary sent forth to retrieve it. Many of the best had been called upon. That was why she had come to the inn it was a popular location for treasure hunters and mercenaries to swap story's over a mug of ale. Rahania wanted to size up the competitions. She watched them as the came in and out speaking of their latest finds. None sparked her interest as of yet, but it was only early hours. Nights at the Mediva could be long and at times fierce with brawls and drunken facades to boot. Rahania was happy to wait, just to know what she may have been up against.
Swirls of blood speckled snow twirled and danced as Eirian spun on her heel, grunting as she blocked the sword from behind. Her cloak snapped in the brisk wind that brought a promise of a blizzard as she spun again, throwing off her opponants weight. The man fell back in the snow and quickly scrambled to his feet, leaving more blood soaked snow behind him. He lunged at her again and again, Eirian blocked. The man's eyes were wide with fear as she shoved him back and slashed down with her own sword, the gently curved blade whistling with the speed she weilded it with. As daughter of the formal Royal Battle master, the man had every right to fear her. The man screamed as Erian's sword sliced through his poorly made leather chest armour and bit into his stomach. Falling to his knees, he dropped his sword, clutching at his stomach. Eirian stepped up to him, placing the tip of her blood stained sword at his throat. "I only asked for the payment. It was that or proof of your death." Her voice was as cold as the snow drifting through the frozen air. The man looked up at her, a sneer on his face. His breath was angry and bitter, whistling through clenched teeth. He spat out foaming blood. Good. She had nicked a lung. "I will never pay a peasant whore lsuch as you. I'd sooner die." He went for the dagger strapped to the outside of his boot. Eirian flexed her wrist and brought the blade of her sword across his neck. It slid thorugh the muscle and bone like it were butter. She stepped back to avoid the spray of blood and sighed as she walked to where she left her horse, Ares. The black stallion snorted in greating then went back to snuffling around the snow, whether for amusement or looking for food. He ignored her as she rumaged through her pack for the recording crystal given to her should she need prove of the mans death. Her fingers touched something. Eirian pocketed the crystal then pulled the parchment out. It was well worn and well read. She had read it a number of times. The Red Dragon Pearl. The King wanted the orb to summon the Red Dragon. Stupid fool Erian thought. No-one controls the dragons without their permission. She folded the parchment and placed it back into her pack. She peered into her second pack. She would need more food anyways. Eirian turned and walked back to the dead man. He had stopped twitching and his lips had turned purple. She quickly pulled the crystal out, tapped the small clear orb to activate it, then recorded the body. "I formaly record the death of Rybokses Noake." She let the crystal record the decapitated head, making sure to get the bloodless face then tapped the crystal orb again to stop the recording. She tossed the orb into the air a few times. It was amazing what wizards could do these days.
The solace of the party room was a miracle in itself. Usually it is full of fervor, enticement and jubilation to begin with. Not this boredom and monotony. Then, there are fragments of gold on every hurricane glass, sonnets of love and hate on the tongues of the hosts, and particularly the mesmerizing tangy taste of the cultural food. In this party, there is nothing. Only a small gathering of robins and nightingales, fluttering their wings as Arthurus sang the ending note of her fable. "To dust we all return With little but fables to tell... When will they learn!" The birds stared in joy for a few seconds, when Arthurus screamed horrifyingly and the birds shooed away, shocked. Arthurus didn't have much of any audience to her singing, neither did she want any, and these birds which gathered around her were simply atrocious. Arthurus brushed her hair, staring into the glinting mirror. Her beauty never diminished except a few uneven parts of her face which weren't a worrying matter. She then gave a flying kiss to the mirror and got up, reminding herself to check the mail. She hardly got anything, except a letter or two from her daughter, which she dared not to miss. She opened the front door and picked up a notice, possibly spam. She wouldn't have read it but when she saw the word Red Dragon Pearl, she forgot everything else and started to skim through it. Could it be really true? Arthurus ran her fingers in her long hair, preparing to roll it into a bun. She was going to take a round of the suburbs, looking for gossip on the offer. She ran out of her mansion, not even glancing at her daughter's lonely letter left at the door.
Intifanie walked through the inn doors, a thin layer of cigar smoke filled the air and she took a deep breath filling her lungs with the stench. Her cloak was soaked but she wore a smile upon her face. Coming from a neighbouring village that was a two hour horse ride from the inn had tired her and she was ready to retire to a room for the night. She placed the hood of her cloak back over her head and took a few steps further into the inn to go get a quick ale before retiring. As her blue eyes prowled around the room she noticed a mangy looking wolf laying on the ground. It looked awfully familiar to her. This creature I have seen before. I know I have. She stood there a few minutes and then her eyes filled with hate and disgust. It has to be that Halfling pup I saw wounded back when the hillside was destroyed by fire. If that is so then who is the one with it? Intifanie examined the Halfling and then her eyes move to the woman who was with it. She felt the anger build inside and clutched at her pinion tightly. Surely it is not Rahaina. She would not be such a fool as to come this close to where I live. Would she
Rahania looked up as she sensed a sneering gaze upon her she pulled her cloak a little further over her face. It didn't not stop the look of recognition from spreading upon the pale features of a woman across the room. Her sister was here watching her, why had she come? Rahania let out a shaky breath watching as mange sensed her mental discomfort and rose to his feet. "Here now mange stay, there's a good dog," she reassured. The large half ling resettled himself, but his eyes remained upon Intifanie. Rahania sighed it would be no use to hide from her sister, after all a sibling would always sense another sibling and soon enough they would have no choice but to speak. Rahania knew there would be no reconciliation between them and a brawl would be on the horizon. She rose from her seat and Mange stood with her. her sister drenched seemed for a moment to withdraw with a dainty step. She had always been the beautiful one. Much more womanly, her features adult and completion cream, not prone to blemishes like her own. Rahania looked like a child even though she was a little older then Intifanie, well four minutes longer at least. She cringed Why were the gods so unkind to her. Jealousy struck her and she clenched her jaw tighter. Finally she released her jaw and though she had faced many a foe her heart hammered in her chest at the thought of confrontation with her sister. The only family she had left in the world. The one she loathed more then any. Her curled her fingers over both sides of the hood of her cloak and lifted it back from her head. It slide the rest of the way down her silken hair and she looked upon her sister with Malice. "Well now little one, she said under her breath. "If ye want me ye'll have ta come get me. I shan't beg to yer beck and call." Her fists clenched she stood waiting Mange paced besides her low growls sounding deep down in his throat.
Intifanie looked at her with disgust. Anger spread across her face and her hand grew tighter on her pinion. She glanced down at the Halfling and snickered. “Can not fight yer own battles still I see.” She had so much anger towards her sister. She knew that her sister was the reason behind their parent’s death. They had been at war with each other for some years now and every time they had crossed paths, it turned into a blood bath. Intifanie stoof her ground and had no intensions of letting her sister have her way. She would now bow down to her at all. If she wanted a fight she would have to come to her. “Go back to yer ale ya silly girl. It’s what ya do best. Drown yourself in your own self pity and stir trouble where ever ya go. Then get ya wee doggy to fight yer battles for yer. Such a waisted talent it is.” she said calmly and walked past her ignoring the urge to lash at her with her pinion. She could feel her sister’s eyes burning in the back of her neck. She shrugged it off and continued on. Getting half way across the room before she stopped and turned back to her sister. “I’ve not the time for yer anymore. I disowned you years ago. Don’t want no murderer in my life.” she hissed at her from across the room.
Arthurus silently walked the abandoned streets of Dilhauk. She wasn't sure if that name was used anymore for this place, but a few years back that's what she knew about it. A place for the wicked, the brave and bold. If not the first one, Arthurus might fit in for being courageous and strong. Might. Arthurus glanced sneeringly at the different inns in one lane. She could go inside any of them, but she didn't feel like. She heard a ferocious scream at her back and turned, spotting a distant woman. Arthurus ran towards her, hoping to help. She only found herself inflamed in the end when she saw a mercilessly killed dead body in front of her. I wonder... Arthurus followed a trail of hooveprints, finding a horse standing not so far. Ah, there must have been a battle here. She couldn't see the fighter exactly but her back was visible. Arthurus wondered if this little lassie was going to come along. She looked young, the immature type. But Arthurus wasn't sure. Arthurus reluctantly moved forward, observing the horse. Something was stuck in between his hooves. Ah yes! It wasn't anything but a sharp object. Which might as well cut through even deeper if the horse moved. Arthurus smiled in an attempt to calm the horse if it caught her sneaking up on him. Slowly and steadily...there I go... Arthurus's hands trembled as she dared to touch the small glass-like object. In a moment, the cutting object was evaporated, and Arthurus closed her eyes, hoping the little farm guy hadn't felt the sudden misplacement. If Arthurus hated anything more than personal questions, it was messing up.
Rahania rested a hand a top Mange's head, couldn't fight her own battles? Mange was more then simply protection he was her dearest and only friend. In the eve of the fires she had been trapped back against the gully. Her small heart had sunk believing that the moments of licking amber tongue would surely swallow her up. Alone she had clung to the side of the embankments that led up the side of the gully. But a thick cloud of smog distorted her vision and her footing failed. Her small body toppled like a dead body. Rocks pierced her skin and loose gravel grazed her small knees. She cried as she neared the flames. Her heart caught in her throat pounding most vigorously. Then Suddenly she was jerked back, something snagged her blouse collar and held her away from the flames. She dared not look away from the flames, sure that if she did for just the faintest of moments they would gobble her up. Slowly she felt herself being dragged back, every now and then the drag would falter and she would slide back towards the flames. After what had seemed like forever she passed the lip of the gully and flopped back on the grassy top. It was only then recognition had filled her. Someone had saved her from the flames. She looked back holding her breath a mother half ling stared at her with glazed lemon eyes. She barked twice before nudging her with urgance. Rahania had stood with shaky legs and the half ling took her shirt sleeve and tugged. Rahania went with the pull and the dog led her further up the hill towards a small thicket. Inside solitary feral eyes glinted like chips of tigers eye. The half ling collapsed and Rahania dropped onto her knees besides her. "Don't die," she had cried, "please not after this, not after what you've done." But the halfing was no longer listening her eye lids heavy she had fallen into a never ending doze. it had taken Rahania several hours before she had realised why the dog had done what she did. She was already dying a gaping wound had splayed her stomach right open and even with such mortal injuries she had dragged Rahania from the flames. Not for Rahania but for her cub. She wanted Rahania to protect her youngling. She would always take care of Mange he was her sibling in all but blood and breed. It was far more then she could say for her whelp of a sister. "He be better family to me then ye'll ever be." Rahania snapped as Intifanie said those final biting words. "No sibling has ever shown more love fer me then he has. He may well be a dog but he knows his breed well enough to acknowledge one such as yerself when yer enter a room. Tell me little one who raised you? Did yer have ta steal yer feed or beg fer it like I did? Beat yer didn't. One can imagine all it took was a batter of those lovely lashes of yours to get ye yers. I need not fight ye or claim thy as my own. because I would not dare bring myself such shame." She stomped towards her and paused in front of her with one of her fine silver blades pointed at her throat, "sides," she remarked with a bitter grin. "If I remember correctly it was ye that lit the fire the morn that the hillside was burnt crisp. Why don't ye think of that whilst you turn into an old hag." She sheaved her blade and continued to stomp out the door Mange in toe. Kicking up snow as she entered the streets she cussed and muttered under her breath until Mange barked at her hysterically. "I know Mange I know," she said with a shake of her head. "the nerve of that wench." She paused and grinned as Mange looked up at her. digging into the pocket of her cloak she retrieved crumbled paper and a small purse of silver. "Funny how a blade to the throat will make one ignore the goings on in their pocket." Mange barked again as Rahania delicately un crumpled the wet piece of paper. So the wench was in search of the red dragon pearl also? She would soon put a stop to that. She paused rereading a line of the ratted letter. The seal it was the guild of blood immortal, how could it have been so? Rahania had not seen her sister in many years.
Intifanie sighed with pity towards her sister. She knew her sister blamed her for what had happened and in the end it didn't matter anymore. Intifanie was never around at the time. She had been out with her boyfriend when it all happened. Look I don't have time for her games anymore. I have more pressing matters at hand right now. I am here on official business, not on a vendetta. Holding her pinion in her hand she imagined it slicing through her sister killing her instantly. "Does she not remember I am a master of poisons and not fire. Never have and never will. The sooner she wakes up and realises that the better of she shall be..." she snapped quietly as she turned and walked away.. Looking around the room she felt her heart sink. She had no time for this anymore and enough was enough. Walking back towards the door she placed her pinion by her side and pushed through the doors. I have spent too many a years away from that thing. Oh what a blessing it has been. I would so love to put my pinion through her throat, but that must wait. I've more pressing matters at hand right now that need my undivided attention. She walked out into the empty streets and looked around. No one for miles and was just how she liked it.
Rahania looked up as two drunks stepped out from the inn wading through the snow of the street beneath the inns cobbled steps. As they walked they spoke in a drunken slur. As they passed by rahaina the first man large brawny type with a greying beard let his foot snap out and kick Mange. Rahaina's jaw dropped in shock at his blatant cruelty. had they not seen her standing by her halfing in ownership? Did they even care what they did to her beloeved friend. "Dangerous things these halflings," the man said in a deep gruff voice. "would bite yer if they had the chance." He put his boot into Mange once again and he yelped in pain. Rahania removed her hood, she gave it a flick and the cloak fluttered back in the winter breeze removing both blades. She poised with a leg forwards and glared at them. "Touch my friend again and I'll give yer a taste of cold steel." she snapped. The man laughed and nudged his younger friend, a malicious twinkle played in his cobolt eyes. "Well Drak I don't know about you but I can say there's no more dangerous and rabid a dog then an elvan whelp. Lets teach her a lesson she'll not forget and cut her friend here down." The second man said. Rahaina let out a cry of rage and lunged forwards her blade flashing under the flicker of candle she brought it down with swift force. The blade whined, the sound cut short as the man raised an empty hand to defend himself and the blade bit through his fingers. The fingers plopped down onto the snow and the blood mingled with snow making a fleshy pink color. "Little witch," the man shrieked taking a heavy bronze sword from his back, he swung it with blind rage. Rahania rose both of her own blades crossing then to form a block. metal clanged against metal, the strength of the man knocked her from her feet and she toppled back in the snow. "I'll give that pretty little face a nice mark ye can tell yer pups tales about," he said with a sneer. He raised the blade and Mange barked hysterically jumping from the snow a flurry of grey he attatched himself to the arm of the man. With a brisk shake Mange was flung back his body hitting a stone wall with a thud. "Now child time to die..."
Eirian finished packing her saddle bags and made sure they were secure on Ares's back and gathered the reigns when she heard a yelp from a dog followed by a shout and the sound of metal on metal. With a sigh, Eirian tugged on Ares reigns and jogged around the corner. Near the Inn, a slightly built woman was trying to hold off two larger men. A wolf lay in the dirty snow at her feet, growling despite being injured. Eirian dropped Ares reigns, knowing well that the horse wouldn't wander. Never did. He had stuck to her like glue ever since she had taken him from the battle field, and pulled her scythe axe from it's custom made holder on teh saddle. Brushing a strand of ebony hair out of her eyes, Eirian walked up to them. "HEY!" she barked as the woman was knocked back into the snow. "Dumbass! Pick on someone your own size!" She smirked with satisfaction as both men turned, giving the woman oppertunity to shove her blade into his guts below his ribcage. The man stumbled back, sliding off the sword and falling onto the snow. The second man charged her with a drunken shout, his dull sword swinging. Eirian gripped the handle of her axe, swung it around and slammed the side of the axe into his head. The sound of his skull cracking was over-ridden by his scream of pain. His sword dropped to the snow a second before his knees. Eirian rolled her shoulders, trying to loosen the tension that knotted them. She had to finish the kill. No choice. Of course a healer could heal them but... Eirian, put aside her axe, withdrew her dagger which she kept strapped to her thigh and gripped the dying man's hair with one hand and slid the blade of her dagger across his throat. The spray of dark red, almost black blood sprayed, steaming as it hit the snow, soaking the area crimson. Eirian let go of the man, grimacing at the feel of grease left on her hand, wiped the blade clean on the dead man's shirt before sheathing it again. She picked up her axe and whistled for Ares. "It won't take long for the bodies to be discovered and us to be suspected. We should go. Your lucky I have enough supplies to last until we reach Sol." She said, gathering Ares reigns and swinging into the saddle. She looked at the woman, she was an elf. "What are you waiting for? Where's your horse?"
Rahania stared dumbed founded, was the woman blind? She was an elf. Human's seldom held kind regards towards her. "I have no steed," she said. "I appreciate the help but yer best be on yer way fore we both get caught." She sat besides Mange in the wet brushes snow from the dogs snout. He whined and she kissed the tip of his nose. "Tis alright Mange no true harm done." The Woman stared at her it was obvious she was reluctant to leave her side. Rahania felt the first smile she had given in many years form upon her lips. She smiled until it hurt enjoying the sensation. She stood up and walked towards the woman offering her a hand to shake. "Many thanks to you. I can aside your horse if you wish I rarely tire." The woman took her hand and hauled her up on the horse behind her. Mange barked annoyed that his mistress was upon the back of another beast, when he was company enough. The woman ordered the horse into a walk then a canter. Mange kept up with ease his legs moving in leaps and bounds as he avoided the drifts that were deep. he barked as he followed shrill, demanding attention Rahania laughed. "Ye must excuse my friend, his the jealous type."
Eirian smiled. "I understand. Ares would probably feel the same." She steered Ares through the town until she reached the stables. "Unfortunatly, Ares cannot carry us both if we are to leave this place quickly." She paused, turning in her saddle. "I never thought ask of your name. I am Eirian." The elf nodded. "I am Rahania." She dismounted, and ruffled the fur of her wolf. "This is mange." Eirian nodded, allowing a crooked smile to cross over her lips. "Tis a fine beast you have there. I will have to purchase you your own horse," she held her hand up to silence Rahania, "you can pay me back in time. Will you wait here? Keep an eye out for anyone. I will be back shortly." Rahania nodded and stepped further back into the shadows of the stable as Eirian jogged to the back of the hut. "What yer chasing missy?" Eirian spun, her hand itching for her sword but she stopped herself in time. A man stood behind her, smoking a blackened pipe. He was short, with a ruddy complextion, his face nearly covered by a long red beard and one eye was covered with a patch. "I need a horse. Fast, healthy. I also need riding gear." Eirian said. The man laughed and chewed the end of his pipe in thought. "Tis going to cost you." Eirian pulled one of the stolen coin purses out from the folds of her cloak. She checked it. More than enough silver. "Here." She tossed him the purse. The man caught it in his stubby fingers and inspected it. He nodded and tucked the purse into his pocket. "I think I might have a beast to suit."
Arthurus didn't know where she was heading now. Where should she go in search of bounty or adventure? Where was everybody, to begin with? Little did she know that as she made her way to an inn, a man was following her. She stopped suddenly, as if her sixth sense was telling her to wait. Nah, I'm just being an idiot. I'm not even psychic. Arthurus scooped a pile of dirt in enthusiasm, seeing it was glittering for some abnormal reason. "If I find no Red Dragon Pearl - this may compensate!" She giggled a little, brushed away the mud and started to eye the mineral closely. Ah, it was nothing but a granite ore. She then pressed it hard, making it shine and glow red and ultimately turning it into liquid. Arthurus took advantage of the liquefied rock and molded it right away into a silly bangle. Just for kicks, she might parcel it to her daughter whenever she got her letter. "Ay Ay Ay! You seemed to hav' lost the grip, m'lady." Arthurus turned around and gasped. Her silky obsidian hair dimmed to distant white and her jet black but pearly eyes died in disbelief. She dropped the bangle just like she had picked it up, returning to the dust. "Luzare?!" For a moment she thought she was being imaginative. Then she fiddled with the thought of being dreaming. Or she needed to go to sleep. "Arthurus, Arthurus m'lady! Thou remember me well indeed!" "Cut the formalities, Luzare. I knoweth thy plans. Leave me alone!" "But of course I won't. Do you think I'm a fool to let go of the queen of diamonds?" Arthurus raised a cry for a hailstorm, but before she could actually do something, Luzare had grabbed hold of her wrists, cackling like a brain sick lowlife. "And thou thought I'd give up on such glamor very quickly." Luzare's telekinetic capabilities became a torment for Arthurus. She hated him for have slaved her soul years ago. Thus, she couldn't fight him. "HELP!" Arthurus screamed helplessly, her melodious voice echoing like a dying lion's last cry.
Eirian watched as Rahania checked the gelding over. He was healthy alright, young and had a touch of spirit. It's coat was the color of warm whiskey with white socks. The saddle and all the riding equipment was made from good leather and obviously made with care. Rahania finished checking his feet, making sure the shoes were properly shod and patted the geldings neck. "'Tis a fine beast." She looked up at Eirian. "Thank you." Eirian nodded as she swung into her saddle. "We best be going. We cannot afford to stay in this place for long. It's nearing day break and the villigars will be rising soon for the markets." Ares snorted underneath her and danced sideways, eager to get going. Rahania stooped and ruffled Manges neck, speaking quietly with him before jumping into the saddle. They moved quickly and quietly through the streets of the village, keeping an eye out and expecting to hear an alarm raised any minute. "We should reach Sol in a few days. Maybe longer if we have to avoid people." Eirian said once they reached the outskirts of the village. "Why Sol? Rahania asked. "I have something to return to a client." Eirian gazed out into the darkness. Her eyes could always see well, but she suspected Rahania could see far better than her. If there was someone coming, she would see them first, Erian just hoped Rahania would let her know.
Rahania looked behind her to check if Mange was following. He kept up well, just a quarter of a yard behind them. In the fleeting snow he blended in well, only the black snot gave him away. Eiran was in front sitting tall on her horse for a moment then going down as she posted. The horse steady hoof beats brought a mesmerising rhythm then made Rahania drift near the realm of sleep. She brought her self back and gave a heavy sigh, several days was a long time and she hadn't ridden a horse in a very long time. She hoped her body would handle it well. The trees in this part of the land were tall thin pines. Thick foliage covered in a winters blanket of white blocked the moonlight and the darkness. And to think this was only a park. Rahania's ears picked up the sound of an owl singing it's evening song and then the brisk crackling of flame. She could smell singed fernwood, a bitter scent that even from this distance assaulted her nostrils. She pulled back on the reigns the horse nodded his head in frustration wanting to continue on. "There is something amongst the tree's Eiran perhaps we should go round," Rahania said. Her eyes darted about as she heard footsteps on snow crunching against snap frozen grass. She heard metal aganist sheave and now even Mange was giving low growls that sounded like they came from within his belly. The young Gelding became nervous stumbling on his feet as he shifted from one hoof to the other cautious beyond rationing.
Name: Sir Rodger Redcliff, Fourth Son of Sir Reginald Redcliff, Protector and Holder of Redcliff Keep. Race: Noble Age: 26 Weapons: A short sword concealed in a walking staff, one large dirk on his waist, 2 small throwing knives concealed in his sleeves, 4 throwing knives under his tunic, 2 throwing knives concealed in his boots. Armour: Light padded armour, large leather traveling cloak with small iron plates sewn inside the lining, very minor protection. Occupation: Poor unwanted noble son/thief. Sex: Male Personality: Cock sure. He knows he deserves better and he's going to get it. He's not afraid to grovel and beg if the situation calls for it. But he prefers to lie, bluff, and befriend as he works his way up in the world. Unfortunately as a poor noble with little chance of getting any inheritance he is very prone to take unnecessary risks to get what he wants. Appearance: In his public persona he always tries to look spotless and well dressed. His clothes are never up to the latest fashion, but he counters that by being perfectly groomed. Clean shaven, pale skin untouched by the sun, well trimmed black hair, slim figured, despite being only 5'7", he appears larger then life, as he boldly tries to make everyone his best friend. When he is working, i.e. stealing jewels, and selling them. He uses makeup to darken his skin to a workers tan, sneers silently at the world, and dresses in poor, heavily mended clothes, only his dark cloak looks valuable.
