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((Greetings to all! I've been on hiatus way too long! So on my return, I bring you "In the Name of the Thane!" An Off-Topic fantasy RP.
So, let's get started right away! ))
(http://ban-game-1.gamewise.co/the-history-channel-great-battles-medieval_banner79-73208-full.jpeg)
The realm of Vikkal is divided into three lands:
The first is the realm of Haafiner, the military capital of Vikkal, ruled by the Bullman Cournel. Its cities are made of stone- carved into the side of a great volcanic mountain known as "The Sleeping Dragon."
The second land is the land of Cenu, ruled by Jarl Greyfing, the Dogman. It is the poorest land, scourged by theives and cutthroats. It is composed of busy, crowded cities of brick and wood, unkept taverns, and allies crowded with beggars and stalked by assassins.
The third and final land is called Gehana, it is ruled by Blasphemious, the Goatman. Gehana is the richest land, home to great warriors, artists and architects. It is known as "The Fabled Land", its structures made of gold, and grand, its feasts beyond delicious.
The Ruler of Vikkal has kept his identity anonymous for over thirty years. Because of this, the residents of the three Lands have began to believe that Vikkal has no Ruler, and only the three Jarls are responsible for the up-keeping of this nation.
I will not tell you if this is true or not- you will all find out.
Vikkal is populated by Halfmen and humans alike- Halfmen being the magical natives of the land, and humans the settlers.
Halfmen, also called Beastmen:
An animal with a human stature, bearing strong resemblance to a human. They walk on two legs, and are usually stronger and more intelligent than a human. On the other hand, their animal instincts often cause problems.
Humans:
The humans began to populate Vikkal only recently- which is why they serve as the the majority of beggars.
As citizens, their lives are usually tough, and they are often discriminated against by the Halfmen. But, if a human rises above their usual status, and has become a Nobleman, Warrior, or Mage, etc, they are treated with respect.
The three kings are also known as Jarls, High Lords, or Leaders. Each has risen to power through hardship and strife. Under their command are Thanes- people that have earned the Jarl's blessing. This title is not to be taken lightly. And under Thanes are Landowners- the highest rank a common citizen can achieve under Thane. They are given their own plot of land, a farm, and servants. A good, but modest life.
Vikkal can be one mans paradise, and another mans nightmare. While this is usually influenced by who the person is, it is also altered by the Things.
Halfmen are not the only magical beings in Vikkal. The Things are alien monsters- each one of them has a varied apperance. Usually they are thin, black-skinned, and wet, hideous humanoids. No one knows we're they came from, but some believe they were spawned by the gods to take revenge for Jarl Enke's rule.
Enke was a blasphemous tyrant. He was the one who caused the fall of the Land of Cenu.
The Gods:
Akavi: The creator. A giant horse, who is the world. Literally. Her fur is the grass, her eyes the sea.
Kem: The Hunt God. He first created the Beastmen out of animals, and is responsible for how well a hunt goes.
Meki: The Warrior God- responsible for winning wars and battles.
Na: The mother of night, silence and seriousness.
Zek: The playful god of day, noise and frolic.
Bess: The life-taker. She escorts souls to her cavern- Assem; world of the undead.
Laws of Vikkal:
1. No Godmodding.
2. No Powerplay.
3. If starting a conspiracy/assassination, pm the people you want involved. Do not tell anyone who isn't involved- that would spoil the surprise!
4. To join, you must be at least somewhat literate.
5. If you read the rules, type, "Hail Akavi!" After writing your application.
6. You may try to overthrow Jarls, Thanes, or even the King of Vikkal himself. Know that this is no easy task though.
7. Anything is allowed here, as long as it's not unfair to other RPers, or restricted in these rules.
The world is yours.
Application:
Name: Full name please.
Appearance: Please do not use large images, and do not use anime/manga images. You are welcome to describe yourself instead.
Type: Human or Beastman. If Beastman, what type? (Ex: Deer, snake, bear...)
Gender: Are you a girl or a boy? (high-five if you get the reference! :D)
Social type: Nobleman, mercenary, warrior?
Reason for going to Gehana: All RPers begin by traveling to Gehana- but I'll let you decide why. This should be influenced by your social class, and should be realistic. (Ex: If you're a nobleman but going to Gehana for a visit. That's just silly! You could be assassinated!)
Strengths: What are you good at?
Weaknesses: (Optional. You wouldn't really want others know your weaknesses, now would you?)
Likes: What might you enjoy?
Dislikes: What do you not like?
App Code, if you prefer it:
[color=beige][center]Name:
Appearance:
Type:
Gender:
Social class:
Reason for going to Gehana:
Strengths:
Weaknesses:
Likes:
Dislikes:[/center][/color]
[/font]
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May Akavi protect them, or Bess take them...
KING:
???
JARLS:
(http://bacon.iseenothing.com/minotaur_ink.jpg)
1. Cournel
(http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/4/47/Schedel'sche_Weltchronik-Dog_head.jpg/250px-Schedel'sche_Weltchronik-Dog_head.jpg)
2. Greyfing
(http://americanmonsters.com/site/wp-content/uploads/2010/10/goat-man28.jpg)
3. Blasphemious
THANES:
???
LANDOWNERS:
???
HUMANS:
(http://data.whicdn.com/images/40466618/portrait-digital-art-10_large.jpg)
Anya
BEASTMEN:
???
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My App:
Name: Blasphemious
Appearance: Brownish shaggy mane, a semi-human face with rather handsome features. He has large, glossy horns. Instead of hooves, he has fingers, but the same doesn't go for his feet.
He is usually seen wearing a beautiful golden robe, covered in twinkling diamonds and precious gems. It is fastened to his slim, muscled body by three wolf-skin ropes. On his head he wears a golden crown, bejeweled, and majestic in every aspect. His ears have three piercing each, all of made of gold and emerald. His hands bear three golden rings on each index and ring-finger. He smells of the forests and meadows of Akavi.
Type: Goatman.
Gender: Male. "Bisexual."
Social class: Jarl.
Reason for going to Gehana: "Well I'm its Jarl of course!"
Strengths: Fire magicka. Sweet-talking, bribery, speech, charm, haggling, and economic talents. He is also a master assassin, and great at Poison-craft. His poker-fake is remarkable.
Weaknesses: Cute things, seduction, sweets, and gambling.
Likes: Gold, jewels, babes, sarcasm, humor, power, baubles.
Dislikes: People who dare challenge him, mock him, insult him. Rain, dreams, annoying people.
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(I presume that it is alright if we may apply now, since they WIP was taken down.
If not, I am sorry and you may pm me what you want to put in this post so you don't have to recreate it.)
Name: Thorek BlackBlood
Appearance:
(http://oi48BannedImageSite/2wrnofn.jpg)
Thorek is a tall dark-haired muscular male with a light tan and dark hazel eyes that are often hidden behind a mask that made up of an animal's skull, believed to be a bear. Several scars line his back, similarly his arms as well. He never wears too heavy of an armor, and often sticks to just a shoulder bandolier, armored plated pants with deer skin boots to help silence footsteps, and light gauntlets. His weapons varies in an array of daggers/knives along with bow & arrows. Thorek also carries a side pouch for gold and other little things such as poisins and other craft-able smoke bombs for a quick get away.
Type: Human
Gender: Male
Social class: Mercenary Assassin
Reason for going to Gehana: As a Mercenary Assassin, traveling is very common because of contracts people make are usually assassination targets in different locations. Thorek has been tracking his latest assassination contract who has stopped in Gehana recently for an reason he is bound to discover. He is also searching for a follow up contract once he is finished with his current contract.
Strengths: Stealth, thievery, archery, agility, and persuasion.
Weaknesses: Over drinking as it tends to make him reveal information, a sucker for pretty females, unknown new locations.
Likes: Riches(Gold, gems, rare items, etc.), good entertainment, reckless actions, those who can agree with him.
Dislikes: Over concieded people, people who rip him off for a deal made, being followed with out his consent.
"Hail Akavi!"
(Credits to the owner of the image.)
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(( It's perfectly fine to post now, go right on ahead :3 ))
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DESU!!!
DesuDesuDesuDesuDesuDesuDesuDesuDesuDESU!!!!))
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OKAMIOKAMIOKAMIOKAMIOKAMIOKAMIOKAMIOKAMIOKAMIOKAMIOKAMIOKAMIOKAMIIII!!! :D
*tackleglomp*
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(( *gasp* Your character is awesome xD
And oooo, a fellow Homestuck! <3
Feferi and Karkat? c: ))
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[[ *u* Oh my! Thank you for the acceptance and compliment. And why yes, I am a Homestucker~.
A bit of a side note (I apologize), but I pm'd you with several questions for a second character but I'm afraid my PM system doesn't exactly function at most times. Have you received any PM recently as of yesterday? ^^ ]]
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(( Ah, yes, I have. I saw it only today though. Perhaps we're on a different time zone or something? Or maybe I just didn't check it yesterday... Anyway, I've sent a reply :D
And oh God Gamzee is my patron troll <3
Who's yours? :3 ))
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[[ Feferi is my patron c: !~
I apologize if I complicated anything but thank you for the response xD. ]]
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((Must... Join..! (>e_e)> ))
(http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_kz50fien5f1qbqajio1_500.jpg)
Name: Azgul Magyle [Az-gull Mah-gile. AKA Az]
Appearance: Has dark grey fur and a long tail nearly twice his body
height. This tail he uses for many advantages other than balance, and because he's a mouse he tends to be smaller in
height compared to other beastman, perhaps even sometimes when compared to certain humans. His eyes are a dark
amber color, showing brown when shaded but more golden in brighter areas, though they also seem to shift depending
on his mood. His feet are rather long and though mostly covered in fur, they're pink at the tips, but look excellent for
gripping things just like his hands. His attire consists of a leather belt that holds his sword (along with a few other useful
devises), and a worn green cloak for travel. Upon his tail, too, right at it's base is a lone silver ring, with naught but a
single emerald leaf in decoration, laced in gold.
Type: Mouseman
Gender: Male
Social class: Warrior
Reason for going to Gehana: To put his skills to the test, he hopes to find a way to better himself and perhaps become
more than just a warrior, perhaps even a Thane if it allows him access to battles and defending the weak (and
commanding the charges).
Strengths: Tactical, quick-witted, speedy reflexes, vigilance, and using everyone's strengths and weaknesses to good
use while using the enemies's own against them. Also brave and courageous, and noble.
Weaknesses: Could perhaps mix honor with pride, stubborn (unless reasoned with), and can be angered if the right
buttons are hit. He may also be a bit paranoid and overly cautious. Because of his height, too, he lacks brute
strength and tends to rely more on speed and agility, though in this case his stubborness may actually come in
handy.
Likes: Gratitude and praise when he's done something right, helping out in any way he can (within reason), being in
battle, and working on a task that's excellent for his expertise.
Dislikes: Being referred to as a rat, having his honor and loyalty questioned and stepped on, others degrading
themselves especially over their own weaknesses, being made fun of his height, being demeaned on or others who think
they're better than everyone, and being told to stay out of battle or where the main action is.
Hail Akavi!
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(( KATSAAAAA :D
And also: we need one more app to begin! (WIP apps not counting.) ))
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[[ *u* Mice~!
Another app? Maybe Lupo will finish his ^.^ ]]
Edit: [[It was a good reaction! c: I'm enjoying the diversity. ]]
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((DESUUUUU!! ;D I can't wait! Also, I had to use a different pic because the original didn't show up >3> I also forgot to add something the first time around. *clears throat* the secret code phrase....
I'm also including in a few more weaknesses x3
@Soaring: Was that a good "Mice! 8D" or a bad "Mice! D8"? XD ))
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Slow internet over at my grandparents' house. It's really annoying. And, I'm getting sick, I had to sleep on the floor over the weekend. So, if you need me to change anything, I'll be glad to.
Name: Alavar Hartpit (Gehana's most lamest name. Ever.)
"What do you want, Cobblewobbler?"
Appearance: (http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-7bq2ECft838/Tyhs9AtXiGI/AAAAAAAAAgY/3xMsNTkLpeo/s1600/girls-411.jpg)
A fair skinned woman, with golden locks. She has hazel-green eyes, with small flecks of blue and brown. Usually wearing a hooded cloak, but is adorned (sp?) in dull blue ribbons, the tips of the ribbons cut of, she has two ribbons tied arround her neck, three ribbons tied around each leg, two-four ribbons around each arm. She will hide daggers in her leg ribbons, thanks to dress for making that possible. She has an elegant dress underneath, even though it's worn and a tad bit older than the girl around her twenties.
"Go bother someone else."
Type: Human
"What do I look like? A goatman?!" (Pun intended.)
Gender: Female
"I thought it was obvious, but clearly not."
Social class: (I'm an idiot when it comes to this. -_-) Solitary Assassin (Just meaning she will never partner up. Sometimes assassins do have partners, just saying.)
"Get away from me!"
Reason for going to Gehana: Very few times, Solitary Assassins would leave into the unknown forest; because of the beastmen. She had no true reson to come to Gehana, so the story will always change.
"I came to sell furs. Now, unless you're a fur trader, get out of my face."
Strengths: She will usually travel light.... That's basically it. XD
"Leave. Me. Alone."
Weaknesses: She tends to flee when nervous or found, she is very clumsly on the ground, she can't stay away from a nice mug of beer, and she will sometimes put her daggers in her arm ribbons for no reason. (These are mainly bad habbits, but I put them here anyway.)
"What?! Why would--Oh, look a nice mug-o-rum."
Likes: A nice beer, swimming and lacking off, rum, whiskey, and other assortments of "drunk-ness drinks".(I can't spell for nothing. -_-)
"Please, leave me alone."
Dislikes: People and beastmen alike, (Why do you think she became an assassin?) smoking, hangings, and fear itself.
"You might not make it out here alive, now LEAVE!.
And another thing, I might not be too active during school days, because I'm not allowed on the computer during weekdays- You'll usually see me around FH by phone, but I'll still try to role-play every now and again with my phone, thing is, there would have to be no picture, coloring, bolding, or centering. So, my texts are going to look boring.
That is all.
~Wolfie
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[I hope this rises to standard?]
(http://i49BannedImageSite/6hi8ug.png)
Name: Sulza Maldis Brock
Appearance: Sulza is a rather frightening brute to look at, with his glowing yellow eyes and stooped figure. The hyenaman, however, when standing upright, reaches a height of 5'5", with a bulky build. The berserker's fur is mostly of a pale grayish brown coloring, dappled with darker patterns of oak brown and ginger, with a dark red mane striping the middle of his back. His attire can vary, but as of right now, Sulza has three piercings on his tattered right ear, one on the left, and wears dented iron plate armor, tarnished in various places. This armor consists of a breastplate, shoulder plates, and a plate skirt. Bandages wrap around the beast's legs, which lead to pawlike feet. Humanoid hands, covered in the same shade of dusty grey fur, grip both a shield, made of the same metal as his armor, and an axe. The axe is a large wedge of metal attached to a slightly waved handle, and another shard of metal attached to the bottom.
Type: Hyenaman
Gender: Male
Social class: Mercenary/Merchant
Reason for going to Gehana: Sulza traveled to Gehana to perhaps gain a better living than he did with the cutthroats in his homeland, Cenu. He has family back home, but they are running short on money, and need this to survive, obviously. So the hyenaman works as hard as he can as both a mercenary soldier, hit-man, or blacksmith. Any way he can make money is fine by him.
Strengths: Physically strong and fast, enabling him to work both in the field and in the forge. Brave, and noble to an extent, and 100% loyal and trustworthy to anyone that pays him money.
Weaknesses: Fairly slow-witted, and not as intelligent as most. He is greedy, and his avarice can distract him from what's right and wrong. Very proud, despite his almost beggar-ish status.
Likes: Money, gratitude, honor, drinking, fighting, and food
Dislikes: Poverty, ungrateful bosses, people dragging his name in the mud, mind games, and royalty
[/color]
Hail Akavi!
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(http://mag101.com/blog/gallery_2011_9_10/Creative_body_painting_1_inush.jpg)
Name: Bojana Nacimiendo (boy-AHN-uh nah-cee-mee-EN-doh)
Appearance: Bojana stands at a daunting height of 6'2". Her eyes are a dark color, likely black, but they often reflect the colors around her. The rest of her body is shown in the above picture. She has no tail, a fair trade in her eyes for obtaining legs. Her body is very flexible to the point of being considered a contortionist. She could have used this skill to become a mage of some sort or at least a mage's assistant. Instead, she uses her flexibility to hide or stalk, making her a great assassin. She strikes at night mostly since she is nocturnal due to her being a Burmese Python beastman. She can move up pipes or steep edges because of the scales covering her body. Her scales, when pressed against an irregular part of a material, allow her to move upwards. Trees are the easiest to move up, followed by rocks, then smoother surfaces. Her skin is rough if a hand is run up her body (opposite to the direction the scales run), but smooth when run down her body. (If the picture were completely accurate, you could see scales) Her attire is always dark and usually blue, red, or black with strips of gold in there. Her dresses are mostly long and similar to Indian style dresses:
(http://thegloss.com/files/2009/03/sipaphotostwo332377-india-chatwal-h.jpg)(https://encrypted-tbn0.gstatic.com/images?q=tbn:ANd9GcRkwDcrt4zqL_jq-xNEwbq4ngGqYV2BhaWlreHK6qXmxei2FMDC)(http://strandofsilk.com/sites/default/files/imagecache/product_900_high/raakesh_agarvwal_-_indian_fashion_designer_-_bridal_lehengas_sari_saree_wedding_-_navy_and_violet_saree_-_rawsr_20_-_front_0.jpg)
Type: Beastman; Burmese Python
Gender: Female
Social type: Assassin for the higher ranks, but keeps her cover as a friendly merchant who sells clothing and jewelry.
Reason for going to Gehana: What she is telling others is that she is going to Gehana to see if anyone would be willing to by her handcrafted treasures. Her true purpose in coming to Gehana is to inquire of Blasphemious if he would be willing to have her as his own student in the art of assassinating. Those who know her true identity, which are very few, envy her skills of killing.
Strengths: Seducing, flexibility, killing silently, quick wit, quick in movement, height advantage over typical female, deception, nearly hypnotic voice, strong especially when choking victims (choking being similar to the Burmese Python's method of constricting around something to kill it), instincts, great peripheral vision
Weaknesses: Money is her primary weakness. She is disloyal for the right price, which is why she typically offers her services to only the highest in authority. Any material good can substitute for this. She does have a fear of beastmen that resemble the predators of snakes:Large birds, wild boars, mongooses, raccoons, foxes, coyotes. Other weaknesses may be discovered or revealed through rp.
Likes: Pricey items, gold, silver, shiny items, soft materials, those who treat her with respect, red wine, control/dominance
Dislikes: Being treated inferior, fire, beastmen who resemble predators of snakes/carnivores in general, being cheated out of money, deep meaningful relationships (being friends may even be a step too far since they can be used against her by enemies), threats against her
Hail Akavi!
(Images belong to their respective owners.)
[Let me know if she's too human. Compared to the others beastmen, she looks more normal, but this is basically how I pictured her ^^']
(http://i370.photobucket.com/albums/oo150/Firewolf0120/Rent-rent-22114436-960-540_zps3d18ea34.jpg)
Name: Marcellus Ancelli (mar-SEL-us ahn-CHEL-lee)
Appearance: Marcellus has blonde hair and light blue eyes. He stands at 5'8" and weighs 122 lbs. He is pretty lanky, easily knocked over and taken advantage of. Marcellus is very near-sighted and practically blind without his glasses. Parts of his hands are stained with ink. He's gotten ink off of his hands before, but usually just leaves it on unless there is a public gathering. He typically just keeps the stains on his hands because the second he washes it off, the ink will return to his hands in a matter of hours. His wardrobe is a white dress shirt with black pants and usually his red coat over it. If he is out at night or if it is the season of Snow outside, he will wear a warm blue cloak with mink fur coating the interior, not counting the hood. Both the red coat and blue cloak are shown here:
(http://fc06.deviantart.net/fs70/f/2012/028/0/d/the_librarian_by_fayrenpickpocket-d4nw1yr.jpg)(http://fc07.deviantart.net/fs71/f/2012/249/a/d/the_book_of_days_by_lone_momo-d5duh0k.jpg)
Type: Human
Gender: Male
Social type: Scribe and secretary used at the disposal of his Jarl, Blasphemious.
Reason for going to Gehana: He is already in Gehana since he works for Blasphemious.
Strengths: The best thing up Marcellus's sleeve is his sharp mind. He knows practically every language known to mankind (and beast-kind). This knowledge, along with his clear handwriting and quick hand, is what put him in Blasphemious's favor. Marcellus is a great mathematician and processes many of the finances for the land of Gehana. He somehow always manages to fulfill any task required of him in the short amount of time he is usually given to do it.
Weaknesses: Marcellus is a weakling and doesn't really hide it. He is squirmy and flinches when near strangers, particularly when he is out of his study (his safe haven). He is also clumsy and has dropped his scrolls and books on multiple occasions. So many times, in fact, that he must keep his ink and quill secure in his pocket since the ink has spilled over his finished works so frequently. He scares easily. If so much as a voice is risen, he will try and find the quickest escape out of the room.
Likes: Books, math, logic, writing, studying, anyone nice to him, sweets
Dislikes: Alcohol (never had a taste for it), hostile individuals, overly flirtatious individuals (particularly when he's working), anything that doesn't make sense to him, spicy foods, sour food or drinks
Side note @Desu: I intend for Marcellus to be a tad bit annoying to Blasphemious because of his stutter-y, clumsy nature.
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[[@Kasai: *A*
Your character, Bojana, is magnificent! ]]
*I apologize for the typo!*
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[@SoaringAway: Thank you! ;u; I'll probably make another character since you have the only human, but I'll wait and see what the WIPs people do.]
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[[(http://media.tumblr.com/89e7ae16c832c3aa7c828206d49bd57a/tumblr_inline_mgr5y3ixeM1qcqwuv.gif) You're very welcome dear and with Lupo having applied as an assassin (oddly assassination is a very common trait here xD.), there is at least half of the ratio of characters are humans! ^^ ]]
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AHHH! -Tackleglomped-))
WIP
(http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mcvdb2RnW01ratnmjo1_500.jpg)
Name:
Appearance:
Type:
Gender:
Social class:
Reason for going to Gehana:
Strengths:
Weaknesses:
Likes:
Dislikes:
[/color]
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(( Wonderful! Look at all these apps! I shall sort throught them and add them to the list in the morning, because my laptop is allllllllll the way over there and I'm half-awake and barely coherent XD
I adore all these apps :D
So far, there are two W.I.P applications; the bloody anticipation is about to kill me.
So instead of letting my excitement he the better of me, I'll prep you all for your first post:
Again, our location is Gehana.
The rules, or guidelines for your beginning posts are as follow:
(These are just to ensure no one makes the mistake of skipping ahead and rushing the RP, or otherwise doing something that could cause trouble.)
- Include a summery of your journey to Gehana. Perhaps a nice little paragraph about your character's history, eh?
- Afterwards, choose a location close to the festival of Akavi- which is happening on the Main Road, stretching parallel to Blasphemious's Castle of Gehana.
- The Castle is off limits in the morning.
Note: Vikkal has a different way of measuring time. 8^K means 8am, while 8^N means 8pm.
Z=Zek. N=Na.
Months do not exist. There is:
Aftersnow: Spring
Neversnow: Summer
Presnow: Fall
Snow: Winter
This is because the Ancient Halfmen used snow to keep track of the seasons. The deeper the snow, the further they were into winter. That was when Vikkal was still in a semi-Ice Age state.
))
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((Oh, so for the seasons, then, does this mean there's snow usually on the ground, and maybe even snow occasionally even in the summer? Or would it still be like our type of seasons? o3o
Hope that made sense~))
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[Excellent! I love all the thought put into this rp. It's so original! Do you wish for us to go ahead and start?]
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Finally finished. It explains just about everything; so yeah.
My cousin kept interupting it for about thirty minutes.
He kept making me loose it, get it, loose it, and so on. -_-
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[[All of these assassins and mercenaries.. xD
On Topic: I'm liking the idea of the name changing for the seasons but will there be a namechange for the time as well or will it still be the same? c: ]]
[[Edit: By time I don't mean by AM or PM but rather "morning," "afternoon," & "night."]]
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[*flops* I can't wait until this rp starts. This breaks the monotony of prides, packs, and clans, as well as highschool rps.]
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Besides the little spits and spats around the corners, but yeah, you're right Kara.
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(( No, I want to avoid confussion, so I'm not going to change the times xD
And sorry everyone, I was busy all day, and I didn't have time to post. My schedules' been crazy lately with the new semester in high school tomorow and everything.
Ugh. I have my first bloody gym class of the year tomorow too :c
And my teacher's dotty.
Note: For guaranteed emerssion, I would recommend reading posts slowly, and with the same tonation and diction you would use while reading out loud. Remember to savor the words.
So anyway, without further ado, this RP is now fully active! *cuts red ribbon*
))
Rushed first post D:
Nary the whipping gales of the east, nor the ambience of the streets below could wake the slumbering Goatman.
His lean form was obscured by rich satin covers, blocked away from the sun bursting forth from the wide windows over his large bed.
Baubles of gold- his preferred metal, gleamed on the noble bed-stand by his side.
When he opened his eyes upon Kem's call, he first felt the heat accumulated by his heavy sheets. He shoved them off and stretched lazily.
Just then, a servant entered the room, greeting the Jarl with a deep bow and a warm, "Good dawn, my liege."
"Emil." A sleepy smile followed the acknowledgement. This was one of the Jarl's favorite servants- a young man with ebony hair and matching eyes. He was a sly individual, an aspiring merchant or salesman.
Emil gathered the satin sheets off the floor, folded them, and set them aside. He went to work choosing a suitable outfit for the Jarl, and once that was done, he ushered the Jarl off the bed, set the sheets in order, and then dressed the Goatman.
Admittedly, there was usually some flirting while this took place. But not today, for the festival occupied Blasphemious's mind.
Once dressed, he admired himself in the golden mirror hung upon the marble wall at the far end of his living quarters.
Today, his garb consisted of a robe trimmed with black fur and woven from gold string. It was unfastened, revealing his well-sculpted chest coupled with wolf-hide pants- kept in place by a bejeweled, silk strap.
On his fingers, he wore golden rings, three emeralds on each one, coupled with three diamond bracelets on his left arm. The three piercings in his ears were golden spheres today.
But upon his head lay the greatest asset to this Jarl- a majestic crown, pure gold, the purest in all the lands, lined with rich gems, shining like the waters of Bess's lake itself.
Emil ran a bone comb through the Jarls fur again, arranging it nicely.
Today, the Jarl was simply stunning.
---}
Outside on the streets, the festival was still being prepared. Crowds of people, all rich and well-dressed, flocked to the Main Road under the light of Kem's dawn. The mighty palace cast a black shadow over most of the land here, it's golden pillars and marble walls as incredible as the fence surrounding it. Pure gold, tipped with sharpened spades. Goats and other animals decorated the gate with never before seen splendor.
-
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Although he was not a priest, or even a member of the sacred order of Akavi, there was another soul asking for his graces on the same morn that the Priestess Cloudguard and her troupe has departed. Sulza Brock was leaving for the fabled Kingdom of gold himself that morning, and as he slipped on the familiar tarnished breastplate over his aketon, he was indeed praying. Though not a religiously devout beastman by any means - he enjoyed his pleasures and drink a tad too much for that sort of thing - he needed all of the luck he could get on his journey. Flat yellow optics scanning his 'room'...couldn't call it much of a room, more of a cupboard, really, he took what would be the last glimpse of his home that he would get for a while. Having already said his farewells to his family, he fastens his iron buckler across his shoulder blades, and attaches his trusty ax to the rough leather belt around his waist. Shouldering his rucksack, the traveler wet on his way, hardly taking more than a glimpse at his surroundings at first. The slums of Cenu were all too familiar to the lad, and he wasn't exactly nostalgic about them, either. For too long, the young hyenaman had been surrounded by the dirty cobblestones, the sinking, sad looking buildings, and the hungry faces of the human children and the beastly children alike. The heavyset brute just tries to get out of the kingdom as quickly as possible, even dashing at some points. This place was not suitable at all for his family, and he was going to make sure it didn't become so.
--~
Outside of the city, and at the border of the "Fabled Land", Sulza takes a deep breath, almost relishing the cleaner air. As he was still close to Cenu, the air was not necessarily cleaner, but it felt to be so to the young mercenary. Full of hope and promises. Sitting for his umpteenth stop that day, the pilgrim takes out a battered skin canteen and raises it to his snout. Much to his despair, it was close to becoming dry, and with water probably being a long way off. Rationalizing there was not much left he could do about it, the soldier-for-hire just staggers to his paws with a plaintive grunt, his body starting to rebel against him in it's want to rest. Ignoring this fact, he merely plods on, the gleaming Kingdom already in his sites, and perhaps a half a day's journey away. If he could make it before nightfall, he would be fine. Perhaps he could even find some water along the way? Spirits lifting once more at the prospect of a better life here, he continues, chewing on a small bite of maslin bread to stave off hunger for a while longer. Not having much, Sulza Brock had to watch his consumption of his rations.
[I feel like a fail. Everyone else's post is so huge, then mine's just like "meep". I apologize for my lack of detail, it is almost 1 AM, and I must be going to bed for school tomorrow morning.]
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((All of your posts were marvelous!))
What was left of the wood cackled and popped as the flames ate what they could, dying away in the morning mists. A lone mouseman stood before the flames, eyes reflecting their light in a golden hue with a fire all of their own, but these flames were strong and only growing. There were no more logs or sticks to add to the flames but it was alright, because Azgul didn't plan on remaining for much longer. No, his sights were set on something else that morning rather then more wood collecting, though he saw it more in his mind's eye. Gehana. Cities made of gold... He mused to himself, drawing patterns into the dirt between his feet with the tip of his sword. What to suspect from a place such as that... I've heard great warriors come from there. I wonder if they'll accept me as one of them?
Az had lived around Haafiner, where he learned most of his skills and gained his inspiration. He didn't want to brag, but he was pretty savvy there, talented among his peers and friends and eventually drawing his wish to perhaps join the military, though there haven't been any wars in a long while. But that may take some time yet, he felt there was still things to learn and eventually he decided to leave his home behind. How could he know if he was progressing if he remained in the same setting with the same people? He needed to put his skills to the test and challenge others, to make sure that he was, indeed, growing stronger and earning experience. He did miss home, but sitting there now after weeks of travel he didn't regret a thing. His destination was specifically chosen for it's grandness and rumors of talented folk being there, especially about Blasphemious. Maybe someday he'll make me a Captain, with my own squadron... The idea had his chest puffing proudly and fur lightly bristling, but it was short lived when he shook his head. Now now, Magyle, don't be foolish now. Know your limitations and current situation, don't rush head long into a dark forest when you know little about it.
Azgul rose from his seat, kicking dirt to douse the remaining flames. The mouseman turned to his next destination, a path that led straight there (or so he was told). Straightening coat, belt, and sheathing weapon, he was on his way.
~*~*~*~*~
The sight was breathtaking, unlike anything he had seen before. The stories and tales he had heard were nothing in comparison, there was simply nothing that could of brought this place justice. The mouseman was practically rooted to the spot when he first laid eyes upon the city, and so caught up in it he failed to take notice of the gathering on the Main Road in front of the castle. When the spell was finally broken, his amber eyes eventually did settle on the tents and carts, his brows furrowed in curiosity at the sight.
I wonder what's going on down there?
Unfortunately for Az, he had gotten lost for a few days during his travel. It didn't phase him as it wasn't anything he couldn't handle though it did delay him. Even now he was standing upon a hill, off toward the right side of the road when going in toward the castle instead on the actual road. However, he was a bit hungry and thirsty and faint smells of fish and bread could be caught from the wind, sending his stomach to complain to him. He gave it a firm tap and stern look, which seemed to quiet it down enough, but looking back to the festival he was still puzzling over what it could mean. His days spent in the nearby forest had not told him word about the annual festival dedicated to the earth god, Akavi, nor did he really know much about the festival since he'd never paid attention to such things. Not out of disrespect, oh no!, but his mind was usually preoccupied with other things.
Well, standing here staring isn't going to give me any answers, he decided. With a resolved nod, Azgul began his decent toward the activities, excitement bubbling within him though he kept a leveled head and confident stature.
-
The halls were dull today, barely bathed in the light of a few lit torches, mostly because dawn was still too young for beast eyes too see clearly. The Goatman straightened his collar, standing higher than his servants in the corridor before the main hall.
Like the hum of a hive, his keen ears could already sense the commotion in the streets, the voices, merchants calling, priestesses in mid-prayer, all the telltale signs of a festival.
The chefs within the royal kitchen were almost done preparing the feast. Blasphemious knew that they had slaved over the food for most of the night. But still, he crept into their quarters.
As soon as he set his hoof onto the tiled floors, he was sent out with an apology and a bow. 'Ahhh, they irk me so.' He thought. Another day without a breakfast.
In fact, Jarls were forced to fast on festivals- no breakfast not dinner, for twelve days, only a small lunch. Blasphemious usually did not obey this regulation.
A handful of servants greeted the liege once he entered the sunny main hall. The entire room's architecture had been composed of great arching windows and diamond chandeliers, preserving its traditional splendor and optimistic flare. Spread into rows were twenty tables bathed in silk cloth. Neatly placed on them were golden eating utensils, and rare Dea flowers from the heights of Hafinner itself.
Upon the marble walls of the hall had been hung curtains of red and silver silk, the rich cloth flowing freely, like massive waterfalls draping around the tables.
Thirty massive golden Halfman statues occupied a great deal of space around the stage- the centerpiece of the room. It was covered in beads and jewelry, and emanated a feeling of importance and grandness.
Finally, a smattering of servants anxiously waited before the massive door leading out side. They flocked to either side of Blasphemious when he entered the hall, holding trays of deliciously smelling appetizers and spiced wines- the specialty of this land.
The Goatman sighed, preparing himself once more, as four doormen pulled open the giant door to the outside world.
Instantly horns blared, announcing his royal presence like some sort of madness accompanying an ill heart. He smiled when he heard the thrumming of drums after the horns. They had included them, to his surprise; they were not part of the festival's traditions. A few good friends must have arranged them for the Jarl knowing that they, along with the Cenui Guitar had been his favorite instruments ever since he had been given his title.
Kem's warm sunshine dazzled Blasphemious. It's basking glow paired with the rush of the streets, the pattering of drums, and the golden power of the Jarl's empire had leveled his heart with the sky.
A warm smile, bright as Kem had made its home on his black lips.
His maroon eyes flew over his fellow Beastmen, lowering themselves to ground in a bow. A sense of pride filled him, and he clapped his hands, letting the bow break.
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I'll post later. My phone sucks.))
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(http://i370.photobucket.com/albums/oo150/Firewolf0120/0c970__Anti-Human-themed-Photographs-13_zps681c3c66.jpg)(http://mag101.com/blog/gallery_2011_9_10/Creative_body_painting_1_inush.jpg)
Bojana Nacimiendo
A quiet little farm sat less than half a day’s travel from the grand land of Gehana. It was far off the regular path taken by travelers to the city, but its current guest wasn’t exactly a regular beggar on their way to the land of gold. Her dark eyes scanned the room and found the farmer, the head of the house. Scaled hands traced the side of his face gently and he stirred, his drunken eyes revealing no true sense of reality. A smirk played on the lips of the beastman as she analyzed her most recent prey.
His age was placed somewhere in the range of late forties, early fifties. The hair on his head was thin and had moved to his chest and his back. Bojana’s eyes flicked to her left to the nightstand there. In this quick look, she saw the family picture of the farmer, his wife, and his three children. A man like this was her perfect victim. He gave her a bed to sleep in briefly and she would satisfy his needs since his wife was too busy caring for the children. Slipping out of the bed, her foot touched the cold wooden floor. The man then seized her wrist and she hissed at him, her head snapping to him fast enough to have given a typical human whiplash. “Where do ya think yur goin’,” he slurred out, trying to pull her closer.
The alcohol in his system weakened his strength and Bojana knew this, quickly yanking her wrist from his grasp. “I am going to the festival, as you well know,” she told him smoothly, her back to him while she dressed in her fine black and gold dress. This was the most revealing out of her small wardrobe. It covered the parts that needed covering, but her abdomen and lower back were only lightly veiled in a thin, black material. This outfit, as it had last night, turned on the middle aged man behind her and he moved to grab her again, but the creaking of the bed gave him away to the beastman. “If you would rather your wife and children not find out about my being here, I would advise you to not lay a hand on me,” she remarked, her back still to him as she finished dressing. This remark seemed to stop the farmer. Thankful she wouldn't have to truly threaten him (as such behavior could get her in trouble), Bojana didn't look back as she exited the room. Silently getting out of the old house, she was back on her way to Gehana. The golden land sat just out of her reach, only a few miles away. Hauling her black makeshift bag over her shoulder, the beastman continued her journey.
___________________________________________________________________
The sun lit up the sky in a variety of warm colors, touching the face of a sleeping Bojana, curled up on a beam of a building near the palace. As the first golden ray hit her eyes, they flashed open. On a usual day, she would continue sleeping, preferring to sleep during the day and prowl by night, but the current festivities brought her attention to the palace, the main reason for her being here. She wished to get a position training under the maginficent Blasphemious himself in the art of assassination. It was a long shot, she knew, but she was getting tired of amateur hour in Cena. Getting paid only a coin or two didn't please Bojana in the slightest and she sought out the best of the best to help her with this problem. Surely the ruler of the land of treasures could understand the love for gold. An hour or so passed as Bojana watched the palace for the opening of their doors. Horns then began to blare, encouraging her to come down from her perch on the high beam. Returning to the ground, she joined the people rushing over to the palace.
Drums then sounded through the crowds, hearts thrumming along with them. The mighty Blasphemious appeared in the doorway to the palace. The people fell into their usual bow, Bojana along with them until the clapping of Blasphemious’s hands broke the bow. Bojana had worked her way to the front before the bowing commenced, her quick movements and fluidity assisting her in this task. Her height caused the human behind her to want to speak up, but she tilted her head in his direction and glared, threatening enough to silence him. The beastman then returned her attention to Blasphemious, her dark eyes reflecting the gold and black that covered his body. A smile played on her lips as she looked to his face, awaiting his words.
(http://i370.photobucket.com/albums/oo150/Firewolf0120/Rent-rent-22114436-960-540_zps3d18ea34-1_zps638e8b91.jpg)(http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mcs9zjti5r1rdiofvo1_500.jpg)
Marcellus Ancelli
The blare of horns awoke the scribe, previously asleep at his desk. Jolting from his sleep, he looked around frantically, a piece of paper attached to his head for having slept on it for the past hour or two. Marcellus was a worker for Blasphemious and had been for the past ten years or so. Despite his anxious and clumsy tendencies, he was well educated and had a great mind. This fact was not proving true at the moment, however, as the human tried to collect his thoughts as he frantically searched the room for what he was supposed to be doing. The roar of the drums then made some of the items in his office tremble. “The festival,” he whimpered in realization, freezing in his steps as he stared at the closed door of his office.
Coming to his senses, he began searching for the financial records he had been working on, trying to update the files on the cost of the festival. Jotting down the last few numbers, Marcellus rolled up the scroll and placed it on a shelf nearby. Flipping through some of the other papers on his desk, he retrieved Blasphemious’s schedule, papers the Jarl needed to sign immediately, and a copy of Blasphemious’s speech. Despite Blasphemious’s wonderful speaking skills, a copy of the speech was usually created for record. This forced the Jarl to have to know his speech by heart, an easy task for a mind such as Blasphemious’s, and it forced his secretary (or scribe, in Marcellus’s case) to have to correct the written speech should Blasphemious choose to alter the planned words. Picking up the papers, the scribe closed them in his book of finances and went for his door.
Marcellus’s office was located on the second level of the palace. It was hidden away towards the back of the building and one had to take many hallways in order to get to the center of the palace from the office. It was a maze of sorts and the architect who designed the building seemed to know what he was doing. By making many of the palace’s rooms hard to find, fewer assassins could attack the servants or the Jarl. These hallways used to be an obstacle for the scribe, his anxiety levels increasing to the point of a near panic attack when getting lost. After living here for so long, Marcellus had found the logic behind the hallways and soon memorized his routes.
Running at full speed, a great risk for a human with Marcellus’s walking skills, the scribe weaved through the hallways and reached the staircase in record time. The drums pounded outside and the scribe held on tightly to the materials he carried as he rushed down the stairs. As was predicted, he tripped, thankfully, towards the bottom of the stairs. Despite his previous tight grip on the book, the scribe had dropped it with an echoing thud, the papers previously inside covering the floor. Unfortunately for the scribe, the thud of his body, the book, and the sound of the papers echoed through the hall the second the drums had stopped.
The servants in the main hall looked over at the collapsed scribe. Most suppressed their groans of annoyance and a young female servant glanced over to the servant beside her and smirked a little. Nodding her head towards the scribe, who was hurriedly picking up his things, she whispered, “It looks like Marcellus is making his usual entrance this morning.” The servant beside her, not wanting to distract Blasphemious, only smiled and nodded in response.
Picking up the book and papers, the scribe scurried way from the staircase to the side of the room, wanting to be positive he was out of the public eye. If anyone had looked behind the Jarl at that moment, they would have likely seen the human trip, drop his things, and scurry away. Straightening his red coat that covered his white shirt, he now stood to his High Lord’s left, hidden from the public by the door. Removing the speech with shaky hands, Marcellus placed it on top of the book he carried and bit his lower lip, his head dipped as he waited for Blasphemious to begin. He hoped the Jarl didn’t hear or notice the fall he had. With the superior senses of the goatman, however, Marcellus doubted he escaped Blasphemious’s attention.
[I hope these two are approved. I don't really know if they were x.x Also, I don't know if the palace was supposed to be multiple levels, so I hope that it's okay that I added a staircase...
Everyone has such beautiful posts and they are pretty intimidating! XD ]
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(http://oi48BannedImageSite/2wrnofn.jpg)
Thorek BlackBlood
Thorek sat atop yet another roof of some poor stout's house, kneeling on one knee with his dagger laying across the flat surface of his thy and a wooden bucket filled with musty water sitting to his left with a small cloth hanging over its side. He had just finished polishing his favored blade, fingers franticly pushing the excess water off of the blade's tip. It was still quite dark outside, though the faint sight of morning light was beginning to peak over the great gates of Gehana, as he swiped the small formation of sweat under his hairline with the back of his hand. Today was going to be a busy day in the city's center, and what a perfect chance to find his next victim when everyone's attention would be focussed on the festival. Sheathing his blade into it's pouch on his bandolier, he kicked the bucket off the roof sending it tumbling down the side with a clang, seeming to only disturb a child who sat upon the house's door step. All that was heard was a tiny shout of alarm but the assassin was long gone, sliding down the side of the house and blending in with the sea of people that walked the streets.
His pace began to pick up as the crowd began to thin as a forked road appeared up ahead, half of them departing into a side street leading to the main street of the festival and the others taking the road the led to where the vendors set up their 'family made' goods trying to persuade the growing crowds to by some as the adjourned to the festival. Keeping his head low, he slipped away into a tight narrow alley that was now dimly lit by the rising sun. Thorek adjusted the bow and quiver on his back by hooking the bow's string to the bandolier and pulling the quiver closer to his body. climbing buildings was not easy in Gehana, but what had to be done must be done. He lifted his right foot to the face of the stone wall infront of him, while the other was positioned at the crevice of the wall by his left foot. Carefully he pushed off with his right foot, then with his left, following the same pattern until his finger tips reached the edge of the building's roof. A sigh of relief escaped the assassin as he shaded his eyes from the shimmering sun. Thorek began to crouch on the roof carefully sneaking across its surface to reach the other side.
Once reaching it, the assassin stared below at the crowd that had formed in the city's center a building away. The woman who had given him the contract said his target would be here, and if not on his way. Bellow a royal blue cloak caught his eye as the gold tassels shimmered in the sun that seemed to hide a short plump beastman, otherwise his target. His quick fingers drew his bow and a single arrow laced with poison, carefully aimed at the target. Jutting his chest, he lift his arms ready shoot just when the jarl took his place amongst the ledge above the the crowd below. Silence filled the air as every single head averted their attention to the goatman. Thorek sighed in frustration, putting his bow back along with the arrow. Now was not the time anyways, as that would have been severely noticeable. Lifting his hand to readjust the mask infront of his face, he leaped off the side of the roof landing in a well practiced roll joining in with the crowd. He would have to find his target later.
He pushed his way past the hostile bodys standing in the center, approaching a vendor stand that was off to the side of the growing crowd. Flicking a coin into the vendors hand who seemed to thank him with a slight nod, he reached down into the stand picking out an apple from the wooden crates. He would wait, for now at least. His target would apear at sometime, but as soon as the crowd began to break up and head into different ends of the city's center, then perhaps then he would find him. He leaned on the pillar that held up the tent over the vending stand, tossing the apple up and letting it fall into the palm of his hand repetitively as his eyes scanned the crowd again, hopping to find that blue cloak once again.
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As expected, he heard his scribe implode somewhere.
Pretending not to notice the momentary inconvenience of gravity, Blasphemious turned lightly and smiled keenly at the hiding Marcellus. His mind began to drift to the great many years he had spent with his favorite scribe. While it was true that the man was a bit clumsy and clueless at times- his intelligence impressed the Jarl, and he even knew how to make him laugh during periods of strain within his kingdom.
From somewhere off in the distance, the loud call of a bird refocused Blasphemious. That was also when his attention was drawn to someone in the crowd. She was a newcomer, among several others, but by far the most peculiar... A butterfly in a beehive.
The scaly hide of a snake stretched tautly over her pleasant features as she issued a smile in Blasphemious's direction.
He could decipher the predatory gleam of an assassin in her eyes from a mile away, for he himself had it in his mismatching maroons. The woman's vivacious curvature inspired a wink from the Jarl, as he began to address the crowd.
"Citizens, and newcomers. Welcome to Gehana, Land of Gold. I am honored to host today's festival- it is an honor to have so many people attend.
Gehana's charms and baubles hold value- but the people are priceless.
But speeches are tedious, especially on such days when excitement is boundless. So, with the rolling manes, wind-bringing breaths, and the sea-blue eyes of Akavi- may the Festival of our Lady begin!" His voice held the reverb of one well-versed in Speechcraft. And though it was short, and one of the Jarl's much weaker speeches, the crowd scattered into an uproar and a "Hail Akavi! Long live Blasphemious!" as they rushed onto the sidewalk and to the bars and bazaars, but mostly to the temples in the bright gleam of daylight.
Most new comers are unfamiliar with this- but the main attraction of such festivities are the caravans- enormous slow-moving platforms led by oxen through the wide streets. Each one has something on it- weather it be babes in low-cut dresses, dancing and singing praise to the gods, or some kind of enormous monster, tamed and put on display for the crowds amusement.
Blasphemious observed the festivities from the front of the castle, watching Flower Maidens sell White Cups, Dea and other flowers to people and Beastmen.
Indeed, it was a glorious day. The caravans would be arriving soon, and a feast would follow shortly.
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"Pardon. "A thousand apologies, sir." "Excuse me." The priestess apologized under her breath as the streets of Gehana were soon growing dense wit an array of beastmen, usually consisting of goats and horses to her surprise, and a rare few of her kind but they were more preoccupied with the face of the Jarl appearing from the castle. Unknowingly, she resumed being resilient towards the crowd as she parted her way inward towards the castle in which she assumed that the Jarl was (as she hadn't figured out he was already out.) As she pressed the door slightly against her elbow, hearing the large doors creak softly in the instilled stone building, her breath was taken away from the beauty of the architect. Her arms soon slipped into each of the sleeves as she pressed the door behind her, as the crowd was growing more excited by the minute with someone speaking outside. A rather good speaker, at most a novice, as he at one point didn't even thanked the others gods for allowing Akavi to have her day. 'Novice mistake,' she thought towards herself as her ruby eyes was appreciating the column structures of the throne room but she wrinkled her nose with curiosity. Where in Akavi's name is the Jarl?
With very few servants paying her little attention, she stood quietly and respectively so she wouldn't harass them in their daily routines but several noted her attire but spoke nothing, just glanced about in confusion. The priestess glanced downwards in embarrassment for several seconds, it wasn't her original intent to bring herself in such folly. She wasn't originally suppose to be the one that confronted the Jarl either, it was suppose to be the main leader of the covenant , Lio'na'i. The head priestess that remained in Haafiner was going weary of age and was presumed the oldest human that actually did have influence over the land of Vikkal. However, those that were located within the walls of the temple noted that having two humans on the council was quite supernatural as most of the hairless beings were usually beggars or lower titles under the beastmen. She ran her hand throguh her black hair, keeping a watchful eye over herself and her actions until one of the female servants, who seemed to be amused by some ordeal approached her from behind. "Excuse me!"
Anya Cloudguard almost felt Bess dragging her soul towards the land below and she could've sworn to the highest degree that no being was even capable of from that sudden fright as she pressed her hands against her chest and turned her head head around. With a deep breath, the priestess reconfigured her stature back towards its elegant self and glanced down at the servant lass who was just gazing at her with silence. The maid chucked again, muttering of the similarity between the priestess and another being, possibly one that was present in the castle and had a notorious reputation of being spooked quite easily. "A thousand pardons from Akavi above for the intrusion of your daily routines," the priestess began as she bowed her head softly towards the maid, often rare, but in the temple fo Akavi, everyone was no higher despite rank or title as only Akavi was. The maid blankly stared at the female, not even sure as to how she should introduce herself or respond but Anya resumed speaking. "I, Piper Tully of Haafiner and fourth Priestess of the Temple of Akavi, would be needing a co--"
There was a rude snort accompanying her introduction as she raised an eyebrow towards the arrogant maid as she allowed the insult to slide through, maidens were taught never to hold a grudge towards those below them (despite being taught that no one else was higher or lower) as she calmly bowed her head. "Yes?" Her voice showed that of authority and order as she glanced downwards towards the maid who hushed up softly as she frantically rubbed her hands in nervousness. "Have you per chance noted the Jarl's appearance..? Or possibly a lackey?" The maid was cleaning her hands with her apron, still nervous from the mere word that the priestess spoke, as she softly spoke, "Upon the tower ahead throguh the stairs, the Jarl would be.." "Thank ye' kindly," the female nodded her head at the maid, with her handing going through hr satchel. She placed a Dae flower behind the maid's ear which severely surprised her and before the servant could speak, the gift giver was gone.
Anya Cloudguard pressed her hands against her face, mourning in self pity as to how she already stained the reputation of her Temple. She certainly had a high expectation towards everything to go right for the Festival but the stakes were higher for herself. Her hands picked up the edges of her dress skirt as she went up the staircase rather slowly to hear the calling of the people outside but her eyes caught the backside of a man. Possibly someone of the Jarl's personal services.With a soft touch extended out, she tapped the hand's shoulder with much care to avoid any calamity as her eyes glanced upwards to the back of his head. "Pardon me, sir.. " She noted the heavy red of the man's coat, finding that it suited well for the kingdom of Gehana. "Perchance, are you familiar or acquainted with the Jarl..?"
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Meanwhile, still on his lonesome, and hideously plain in comparison to the brightly colored, decorated denizens of Gehana, the hyenaman lumbers through the throng of humans and beastmen alike. Mutters of "Sorry...sorry" and "I 'poligize greatly, marm.." were heard from the heavyset foreigner as he tried to navigate through the revelers. Eyes scanning the crowd for any signs of what was going on, the ruffian was almost blinded by the swirls of light and color, almost like a flock of little birds, the pretty kind his sister read about in books. The mercenary himself couldn't read, but it had always entertained him to listen to the younger Brock to describe the world that was not theirs in any tattered books she could scrounge from book shops. Shaking himself from the memory, Sulza Brock started blinking rapidly to get used to this change. Getting used to the sights of Gehana, but his eyes still staring in wonder, he felt like an awkward young'n again. Shifting his bag on his shoulder, he took a gander at the various people. Scantily clad maidens, vendors of all sorts shouting at him to buy their wares, and wild animals roaring and snarling at the crowd, kept in line by their masters. The heady aroma of food richer in quality than he ever imagined assaulted his snout, along with the tang of spices and herbs, of incense, and of general cleanliness. The clatter of hooves on shining cobblestones sounded a report inside his ears. Overwhelmed, the tarnished warrior stands in the middle of the crowd, not moving, overwhelmed by all of these new sounds, sights, and scents.
--~
After a rough, but not unfriendly shove by one of the party-goers, Sulza returns to his senses and stops acting like a dumb brute. Ducking out of the way with another volley of mumbled swears and uttering apologies, he comes to a stop in a sort of town square, with the crowd roaring at someone who seemed to be disappearing once more into the grand castle. Someone of importance, surely, such as a Thane or...maybe the Jarl himself? The crowd looked frenzied with excitement, an intrigued Brock slinks over to a vendor selling some kind of sweet-smelling bread. Partially distracted by the food, the peasant...who was practically a mere beggar in this state of magnificence, inspected the dark brown baked good, his stomach letting out a plaintive whine, protesting about the fact that he hadn't eaten since much earlier in his journey.
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(http://i370.photobucket.com/albums/oo150/Firewolf0120/0c970__Anti-Human-themed-Photographs-13_zps681c3c66.jpg)(http://mag101.com/blog/gallery_2011_9_10/Creative_body_painting_1_inush.jpg)
Bojana Nacimiendo
Bojana raised her head and tilted it ever so slightly to the side, her finger tracing her jawline as she noticed the Jarl look to his side with a smile. He seemed to lose his focus momentarily until the obnoxious call of a bird sounded in the distance. The Jarl then allowed his attention to fall to the crowd again. Her faint smile didn’t falter and her eyebrows slowly rose as he winked at her. Not moving her head, she glanced to her left and right to see the plain humans and beastmen surrounding her, most looking to be beggars. Her eyes then returned to the Jarl as she realized that the wink was definitely meant for her.
"Citizens, and newcomers. Welcome to Gehana, Land of Gold. I am honored to host today's festival- it is an honor to have so many people attend.
Gehana's charms and baubles hold value- but the people are priceless. But speeches are tedious, especially on such days when excitement is boundless. So, with the rolling manes, wind-bringing breaths, and the sea-blue eyes of Akavi- may the Festival of our Lady begin!" Bojana wished for a longer speech, enjoying his one voice instead of the noisy mayhem that the people around her would create momentarily. As an assassin, noise was usually beneficial and an easy way to kill someone without anyone noticing, but Bojana herself couldn't stand a lot of noise.
The crowd erupted with their reply: "Hail Akavi! Long live Blasphemious!" Bojana, being a newcomer, didn’t know the responses and only glanced at her neighbors as they shouted these phrases and dispersed. Her dark eyes rested on the Jarl once more as the crowd around her dispersed to continue towards the sidewalks, bars, and bazaars.
She watched as he observed the celebrations occurring and she sauntered up the steps to the Jarl, popping her hips ever so slightly as she did so. She didn’t portray herself as a whore, but more so a woman with beautiful curves and not afraid to flaunt them. “My most magnificent Jarl, I humbly request to have an audience with you at whatever time is most convenient,” she said with a light smile. If she were a feline beastman, a purr could probably have been in her voice with the affectionate undertones the sentence contained.
(http://i370.photobucket.com/albums/oo150/Firewolf0120/Rent-rent-22114436-960-540_zps3d18ea34-1_zps638e8b91.jpg)(http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mcs9zjti5r1rdiofvo1_500.jpg)
Marcellus Ancelli
Marcellus glanced up as the Jarl gave him a smile and the scribe returned the gesture with an anxious smile. It was rare for the man to show a genuine happy smile or even a genuine laugh. It wasn’t because he hated the life he led. If anything, he loved his job and thanked the gods night and day for how fortunate he was. However, he was always an anxious individual, hiding behind his parents as a child and hiding behind his books as an adult. He wasn’t particularly social, possibly worsening his anxiety, and he would have probably felt safer in his office than surrounded by the servants. The workers constantly mocked him and he knew this, none of them appreciating his genius.
Lowering his eyes back to his opened scroll, he read along as Blasphemious spoke. "Citizens, and newcomers. Welcome to Gehana, Land of Gold. I am honored to host today's festival- it is an honor to have so many people attend. Gehana's charms and baubles hold value- but the people are priceless,” the scribe mouthed the words as they were read off, his quill with ink hovering over each word. “But speeches are tedious, especially on such days when excitement is boundless.” The scribe paled as these words were now being spoken at the will of Blasphemious. Scribbling in the margins, he copied down this unscripted sentence. The leader then used the last sentence of the planned speech as it was written. “So, with the rolling manes, wind-bringing breaths, and the sea-blue eyes of Akavi- may the Festival of our Lady begin!" The crowd shouted their reply back to the leader and the scribe wandered away from the doorway.
Scratching out the majority of the speech, the scribe went for the stairs, climbing up them as he continued to write. Absorbed in his work, the gentle touch of a hand spooked him as much as if someone smacked him upside the head. His right hand slipped due to him spooking so easily and he drew a line across the parchment. "Pardon me, sir.” The scribe straightened up, holding his materials close to him, arms crossed across them in his naturally closed way. "Perchance, are you familiar or acquainted with the Jarl?"
Marcellus nodded and paused, realizing she may need more details. “Um, yes, miss. I’m his scribe- er-well, his secretary and treasurer as well… I’ve worked for him for about, um, ten years. So, I’m well acquainted with him.” Allowing his left arm to hold the weight of the materials, he pointed down towards the door with his right hand, still holding his quill. “He’s right in the doorway down there if you’d like to speak with him. Th-the festivities are about to begin so, um, that’s what he’s waiting for. Then, a feast,” he explained, his shaky right hand returning to holding his supplies. His light blue eyes glanced down at his materials, social encounters not his strong suit.
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The Jarl was certainly not religious. He did not openly praise the gods nor did he attend temples and pilgrimages in their honor, because money had countlessly proven itself as a greater asset than any kind of faith.
But more so, the tragic death of his brother, Ven, colapsed his belief entirely.
Ven's death... It came as quickly as the flight of a crow, banishing the sun and piercing the sky. It shrouded his land in shadow... For a time being. Though he lived a life that allowed him to bypass the pain.
What more could he do?
These festivities were nothing more than popularity and economy to him. Merchants flocking his castle, new faces treading the streets in constant awe- these were great times to cut a deal with a shopkeeper, not sing praise to deities. For him, at least.
For others, he could not say the same. Each person had their own reason to praise Akavi, few were as devote as the maidens and priestesses.
But if groveling at the feet of Akavi could not save his brother's life, surely it could not save his either.
Ah, the drums slowly pattered to life again- Blasphemious could feel them reverberate through his lungs. They became an accent to the festivities, like an underlying taste to an exotic wine.
He noticed the Snakewoman venturing up the stairs towards him, a visible flare in her waist. Oh, what a wonderful caricature of intimacy she was! He smiled at her again- his mismatched maroons fluttered over her features.
Blasphrmious slanted forward, not lowering his head, as it would be improper for a Jarl to do so, but bowing one knee slightly to her and spreading his arms in a greeting gesture. In a nutshell, it was a masculine curtsy. It looked rather charming too- so he delayed his resurfacing a moment longer to peek at her. A new tone took to hiding his smile, and suddenly his dim eyes, smoldering like hot coals, bored into hers.
He awaited her reaction in this moment- eyes locked, reading the other assassin. In this intense, mysterious way had he seduced quite a many girls.
It was child's play to the natural playboy.
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(http://i370.photobucket.com/albums/oo150/Firewolf0120/0c970__Anti-Human-themed-Photographs-13_zps681c3c66.jpg)(http://mag101.com/blog/gallery_2011_9_10/Creative_body_painting_1_inush.jpg)
Bojana Nacimiendo
The female assassin noticed the Jarl's wandering eyes and this only served to lift her head higher. His grand gesture made her look him up and down as he did to her only a few moments ago. Her eyes worked their way back to his head only to find his blazing eyes staring at her- into her. Captivated, her confident smile fell and she looked at him with her lips slightly parted. A few seconds of silence passed between the two until there was a slight change in Bojana’s eyes.
She had seen this game before and often played it herself. It was in her array of characters. An assassin couldn’t risk using their own name too frequently and Bojana had fun with her disguises. Mira the beggar, Sofia the merchant, and Arianna the seducer were among her personas. It was Arianna who met the farmer just the other day, playing the woman she knew he needed. That was what the clever Jarl was doing now. He was playing to what most women would want. Bojana mentally scolded herself for falling for tricks so familiar to her. Her eyes were guarded, not letting him in as she mentally questioned him. /Whom are you searching for, Blasphemious? Arianna the whore or Bojana the assassin?/
Advancing, the snakewoman was only a few inches from his face, seeming to be lost in his eyes, before whispering, "Your tricks are impressive, but I am not your every day whore. I did not come here for those types of services." Her eyes then lightened playfully as she added with the ghost of a smile, "Although I wouldn't be opposed to those activities so long as we can discuss my true purpose in being here." Should she get on the Jarl’s good side, she knew they would make a deadly pair. However, the two were similar as far as what she heard on her way over to Gehana. Perhaps they were too similar. Both seemed to like power and money. Money wasn’t much of a problem since Blasphemious had it and Bojana wanted it, but power was hard in a relationship when both individuals wanted it.
(http://i370.photobucket.com/albums/oo150/Firewolf0120/Rent-rent-22114436-960-540_zps3d18ea34-1_zps638e8b91.jpg)(http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mcs9zjti5r1rdiofvo1_500.jpg)
Marcellus Ancelli
As the woman beside him looked over to where the Jarl was, Marcellus looked down at his scroll again, trying to look busy. She regained his attention when she dipped her head slightly in thought. The scribe glanced up, his head still tilted down. Servants were looking over at them and it wasn’t a mystery to Marcellus why they were. Not only was the woman in front of him dressed peculiarly and holding herself proudly, or at least in good posture, but she was also speaking to the most anti-social individual in the whole palace. He was probably the most intelligent in the building, but the most awkward to hold a conversation with.
The woman then turned towards the scribe, making him nervous once more. He did his best to make eye contact, he truly did, but his eyes darted around periodically despite himself. “With the goddess Bess looking down upon me, I apologize for my intrusion as it caused your mistake.” The scribe then looked down at his work and was about to correct her, but she continued. “Alas, I appreciate your gratitude of assistance as to how you narrowed my search but the Jarl of Gehana is unfortunately jollying about with his personal affairs.” Marcellus looked over at the door where the snakewoman was speaking to Blasphemious. With how the snakewoman was dressed, calling what was going on as Blasphemious’s “personal affairs” was probably the most polite way to address the situation.
The scribe paled slightly at a memory of the servants pulling a prank on the scribe by telling one of those scantily clad women to seduce him for the day. He would have rather had panic attacks all day than have been chased by one of those women. It had been a few years since that incident and Blasphemious seemed to have no knowledge of the event, but Marcellus suspected him to be behind it.
His eyes returned to the woman as she bowed her head a little. “If there is no objectives you’ve set for today, may you be a messenger? I’ll surely write my own note towards the Jarl.” She then retrieved a scroll from her satchel.
Marcellus nodded and did his best to roll up the messed up scroll in his possession with one hand. He then went over to the thick railing protecting them from falling off the second floor. Digging into a pocket of his coat, he pulled out a bottle of ink and a feather and placed it on the ledge. He then tightly rolled up the scroll, waiting for the woman to place her scroll on the ledge and write. “Careful you don’t fall over that railing, Marcellus,” a servant grunted with a mocking smile as he passed the woman and the scribe. The scribe remained tense until the man left, seeming to be particularly interested in the scroll. He didn’t really care about the line across it. After all, with how much the Jarl cut out from his speech, the scribe would have to rewrite it on a separate scroll anyways.
[I was trying to describe something that looked like this railing, but I just want to make sure the picture was clear:
(http://www.michtoy.com/michtoy/ABSA32103.jpg) Basically, just a railing with a flat surface about the width of a normal human forearm.]
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((Hey guys, I'm afraid I'm going to have to drop out! It's a shame, though, I was hoping I'd have enough time to keep up but it doesn't appear I do haha >.< If anyone has tried talking to Az [it doesn't look like it, which would be convenient] you can either ignore that bit or say something happened that caused him to be distracted or some such thing and move on.
If I have more time in the future, I may come back and reapply. Until then, have fun with the RP everyone and good luck on keeping it active! ^.^ Hopefully I'll see you all soon!))
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(( Awwww, Katsa ;_;
*bai hug*
Kasai, your signature... No matter how many times I see it, I can't stop laughing at it XD ))
New character!
Name: John Wikkas. "Wikkas" often called "Buttface".
Appearance: (http://www.fybertech.com/4get/13163717123239.png)
Pale, thin, and tall. Noticeable bags reside beneath his eyes, but other than that, he could be considered good-looking. His black, messy mane of hair is sometimes pinned back in a ponytail.
Wikkas also has a strong accent called 'British' in our tongue. This is because he is originally from Vemenes, a land seperated from Vikkal, and far up north.
Type:"Huuumin!"
Gender: "A'm allllll man!"
Social class: "...Common"
Reason for going to Gehana: "The festival, duuuuh!"
Strengths: His puppy eyes >:D
Weaknesses: He absolutely CANNOT flirt. He tries, but it usually results in utter failure. He's scared of spiders, snakes, fire, and basically everything.
He's blind without his glasses.
Likes: Cake, carrots, traveling, books, and he's an aspiring author.
Dislikes: Honestly? Everything. He finds negatives very quickly.
His hand delayed yet again, quill laying still against the page, asleep. It's owner sighed heavily, glancing at the azure sky above.
"Bloody Bess..." He stared harder at the clouds swirling by, as if in them, he could find hidden inspiration.
This bore no result, and in a matter of moments his book closed with a loud thud, and his lanky body got up off the uneven tree stump.
He brushed the dirt off his brown pants, quickly straightened out his white shirt, and finally equipped his favorite purple scarf before grabbing his backpack and setting off again.
By daybreak he had reached the golden walls of Gehana. Over them, he could see the towering castles and buildings- their architecture stunning.
Wikkas stated at the castle's convex roof a bit longer before hazily crossing the city gates, his eyes half closed and glasses nearly sliding off. It had taken by far too long to get here from Cenu, Wikkas had not slept for a long, long time. The dusty road, full of lurking bandits and harsh weather had taken its toll on him, and he struggled to keep from collapsing once he reached the glorious heart of the city.
'A' jus' need sum mead... Yea, mead..."
He hightailed to the nearest tavern, a run-down place full of nothing but beefed-up mercenaries and quiet mages, a place where Wikkas definatly shouldn't be.
After sitting down and ordering the strongest drink on the menu, a close-by brute grunted, "What're 'ya looking' at?" Wikkas wasn't looking, no definatly not, but if he had the guts to turn around, he would have faced a very drunk Bullman.
Instead, he shrunk away, his face turning paler than it already was.
He downed his drink before the tavern-keeper could ask for his money, which resulted in a flushed and blabbering Wikkas realizing he didn't even have any money in the first place. Thus, he was violently shoved out of the tavern and into the street. In his hazy state, Wikkas did not realize that he had been punched in the process of being kicked out.
So, drunk, filthy, and with a bloody nose, he stumbled towards the Jarl's Castle, unsure of what his incoherent brain was trying to make him do.
BLASPHEMIOUS --->
The Snakewoman was charmed, Blasphemious felt her gaze shift to a more vulnerable expression. But all too quickly, she had regained control. He was the one being scrutinized now, studied, like a theif caught in trail.
"Milady, must one be a common whore to accept another's love?" The Goatman smirked lightly, daring the other.
"Ah, yes. 'Tis fair trade. As I am sure you know, trade is my power." A playful look danced in his eyes.
"I would be glad to listen to you... But we only have a short time. The caravans will soon arrive. So let us discuss this here."
There was another reason that the Jarl did not invite the other to his headquarters. He knew they would be alone there. And, he knew an assassin when he saw one.
((I'm sorry about my late replies, I really don't have much time to work on them :c ))
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(( Bump. Some more activity please? :C
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[*flails* Sorry, Des, I just don't have anyone to rp with right now, everyone's in the castle.]
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Anya was already pulling out her own ink pot and quill as she found that the scribe had already created a station for her to write as she had a nervous smile on her face. The priestess slowly walked over to where the scribe had set up the items but she placed her items aside and nodded her head at the scribe, "I thank you for the utensils needed to write but I have my own. I mustn't waste your ink." As she leaned over , she dabbed her quill into the ink and began writing in one of the first languages present in Vikkal "One Tongue." Without paying much mind, she was finished within a few minutes but she scolded herself while cursing silently in mind. "Sorry for taking up much of your time but ...these hands of mine decided to write in a different tongue."
However, the comment that one of the servants made made her quickly glance over her shoulder giving a suspicious glare at the male servant which caused the fleeing servant to stare back in confusion. With a small huff, she began to translate her original document on the bottom of half the scroll without much effort seeing as how she can go from one language to the other when being careless. While writing, however, she had forgotten to even introduce herself and thus made writing the letter effortless as the scribe might turn it in and not have a name present on the scroll. "--Sorry for not introducing myself. I am Piper Tully, the 4th priestess for the Akavi Temple." She, however, continued speaking while writing, "What is your name, scribe? I must surely know the man that has assisted me with this dilemma."
The letter read as followed:
"To the humble Jarl Blasphemious,
The convent of the maidens and Priestess from Haafiner had arrived as scheduled with greetings from the Jarl that rules over where their temple lies. The Jarl that watches over their land will also be asking for compensation for moving the festival over to their land. Thank you for accepting the main street of your kingdom to hold the annual celebration of the goddess Akavi and may her mane never weed."
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[I'll post some time today!
Sorry, Desu! I've been sick all this week and I'm trying to make up the schoolwork I've missed. Also, thanks for the compliment on my sig X3]
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(( It's fine :3
Thank you guys for posting though.
Well, in general, I have not been as active as I desired to originally be :c
))
A light smirk played across his black lips at the woman's wonderful camouflage. She played the role of an assassin quite well, he could tell just by the way her aura changed with each disguise.
Her proposition was so unexpected, Blasphemious chuckled. How many more surprises awaited him today? This surprise was quite welcome though- Blasphemious had never had a student before- and his mind was completely open the though of adventure. Instantly, he complied, "I accept. It would be quite an interesting adventure, don't you think? Ah and yes, a disguise... I have the perfect one... A bedchamber maid? He laughed- jesting but almost slightly serious.
The drums suddenly picked up tempo- vitalizing.
Guards dashed through the streets, clearing them quickly, to accommodate the slow-moving wooden caravans inbound from the south. Blasphemious hoped to have no fatalities today- no frail creature crushed under the caravan's heavy wheels, no animal escaping its bounds and running ramped through the capital.
The first structure that rolled in was The Hook, the caravan meant to draw attention from the crowd. It contained some of the kingdoms most gorgeous women, dancing to the macabre of music from below. Flower petals rained down from the roof of the Jarl's palace just then, like white stars compressing around Blasphemious and most of the crowd.
The music swelled to an elaborate collaboration of harps, flutes, and heavy percussion. People crowed and cheered in the streets- the Jarl chuckled as a young man tried to jump onto one of the caravans carrying the ladies. He seemed to be quite drunk, sporting a purple scarf, and carrying a heavy backpack.
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Bump.
Guys, I have a question. What kind of RP do you think this forum needs?
Either, 1) A Fullmetal Alchemist RP. 2) Gorillaz RP. 3) Futuristic Sci-Fi with robots. 4) Anything else?
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[I have a futuristic robot rp. I've seen a Gorillaz one, and a FMA one too.]
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(( What were they called? They could be mine. ))
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The priestess returned the smile towards the nervous wreck scribe as she noted that Marcellus was already arranging and picking up his materials. However, the scribe wasn't showing any signs of rush as she began to roll up her own scroll but she placed it aside on the railing's flat top as she began to pick up her own things. She opened a miniature case that she had from her bag and began to place away her quill into it and the closed ink bottle into a small hole that allowed it to stay enclosed and protected with the case. "it is a pleasure to meet you, Sir Ancelli. Sadly, the other servants of the castle were too busy with possibly preparing for the ceremony."
The priestess pressed her cold hand against her forehead as she was thinking towards herself, revising the schedule in which was for today. "...Feast..boar..." She muttered to herself a bit loudly and she blinked, hearing herself and felt several eyes onto her but she glanced backwards and the stares flew off from her back. Her hands were quick to glide into her bag again as she pulled out a wax stamp and grabbed the scroll with the other. "Would you like some assistance, Ancelli?" Anya pressed the stamp against the closed scroll as she spoke.
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((I am truly sorry for my inactivitey, but my life has been rather busy lately. I am very limited on my free time, so I have to leave this RP. It was an amazing idea, so I hope other members do continue to keep it up and running. Best of luck! -Lupo))
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(( It's ok, and thank you for letting me know :3
There's a lot of lack of activity recently, but that's ok. People have lives, not everyone can RP all the time XD ))
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[Actually, I have no life. XD I just dunno what to post.]
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(( ROFL! XDDD
It appears we hit a standstill. I hope we speed up again soon... :c
))
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(http://i370.photobucket.com/albums/oo150/Firewolf0120/0c970__Anti-Human-themed-Photographs-13_zps681c3c66.jpg)(http://mag101.com/blog/gallery_2011_9_10/Creative_body_painting_1_inush.jpg)
Bojana Nacimiendo
A chuckle sounded from the goatman and Bojana got slightly nervous, though her expression didn’t change from her playful smirk. The chuckle was followed by a confirmation of her request along with the suggestion of her being his bedchamber maid. As the Jarl laughed at his own suggestion, the snakewoman gave a smile, leaving it a mystery for now if her smile was because of the suggested position or because of his "joke". Glancing around as the drums picked up again, she moved a step closer to Blasphemious as she scanned the area, unsure of what was happening.
She noticed the guards forming a path. Directly behind them was a caravan covered with lovely ladies dancing to the instruments that had started up. While still an attractive individual, Bojana now lost her seductive look as she stared on like a curious child, her smile gone and her lips slightly parted as her attention was grabbed by the new turn of events. Her focus was broken when she heard Blasphemious chuckle behind her at the drunk who was trying to jump onto the caravans. She then stepped more towards the Jarl’s left side, standing beside him.
Her eyes were on the festivities and her hands gestured to the caravan, as she put on an act once again. Instead of speaking about the celebrations, she referred to their original conversation. “I must rejoin the crowd so I'm not drawing too much attention, but I will be at the feast." She paused as the start of a smile played on her lips. "Perhaps afterwards I can uphold my side of the deal,” she explained casually, her eyes flashing over to Blasphemious before returning to the festivities. “Until then,” she began, turning to him and bowing her head only a little, “I bid you farewell.” Her black eyes fixed back on the maroon eyes of her new teacher and her typical seductive smile fell into place before turning on her heel and going down the stairs at a normal pace until she could reach the crowd. Now slightly covered by the people, she weaved through the small gaps they allowed her until she was looming beside a merchant’s tent unnoticed by most of the crowd.
(http://i370.photobucket.com/albums/oo150/Firewolf0120/Rent-rent-22114436-960-540_zps3d18ea34-1_zps638e8b91.jpg)(http://24.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_mcs9zjti5r1rdiofvo1_500.jpg)
Marcellus Ancelli
Marcellus let his fingers graze the edges of his materials as he waited for the priestess to finish her note. He glanced up at her as she addressed him and his eyes drifted back to his materials eventually. “The pleasure was- um, all mine, Piper- I mean, priestess- uh, Priestess Piper?” he stuttered out, pretending to fix a button on his coat. With how elaborate the coat was it was easy to make it look like he was adjusting something on it.
He let her drift to her own thoughts and heard her mutter a few words loud enough for him and a few others to hear, making him glance up from the imaginary mishap on his coat. He noticed some other servants looking over at her, but they turned away as she looked around to see if anyone noticed. The scribe gave a small smile at her offer. “You seem to have a lot on your mind, but, um, if you would like to stay for awhile longer, I wouldn’t… object to it,” he replied carefully. The small smile on his face looked friendlier now instead of his previously semi-frightened smile. Marcellus looked down to the doorway and then around them as he moved a little closer. “To be honest, and between us, it would be nice to have someone with-well, half a brain around the palace.” Obviously he hoped she wouldn’t blab that sentence to anyone else. Doing so would imply that not only the scribe’s fellow co-workers were dim-witted, but that the Jarl wasn’t intelligent either. Of course, the Jarl was smart in his own right, and Marcellus understood that, but the scribe thought of knowing multiple languages as being impressive, not seducing an attractive woman into your bed. Everything the Jarl loved, the bookworm could care less for.
Picking up his materials from the ledge, he held his ink-stained hand out for the scroll the priestess held. “If you would like, I can run that down to-… On second thought,” he started, giving the stairs a look of worry, “maybe we should have another servant run it down to him,” he explained. One of the servants hovering in a nearby hallway was one Marcellus was familiar with and had a decent relationship with. Of course, she would typically be mocked by her fellow servants for treating the skittish bookworm so nicely, but her motherly nature towards everyone always won her favor with the rest of the servants. “Esi,” Marcellus called gently, catching the plump woman’s attention. Coming over, the servant smiled warmly at the two, though she looked a little curious about the woman that got their silent scribe to speak. “Would you mind taking this priestess’s scroll to Blasphemious?”
“Not at all, dear.” Esi turned to the Piper and held out her hand for the scroll. Once given the scroll, Esi would travel down the stairs to give it to Blasphemious, appearing just after the snakewoman had left. “Sir, this is a note from a priestess. She is currently upstairs speaking with Marcellus… as unbelievable as that is,” she chuckled.
Back upstairs, once the scroll was handed off, the scribe turned away from the priestess as he began to lead the way to his office. If she were secretly an assassin, Marcellus would make the perfect target. With the number of assassins growing almost daily, it was a surprise to most everyone that Marcellus hadn’t been killed off just as a practice kill for an assassin. The scribe, although well hidden in his office, had little to no physical strength and seemed oblivious to most threats despite his skittish nature. If Piper wanted to talk on the way to his office, he would oblige her, but if she didn’t start the conversation, it would be a silent trip to the office.
The scribe’s office was decorated with warm red colors and was a little cramped, fitting seven bookshelves and a window. His worn-out, armless, wooden chair was on the ground, likely knocked over in his panic an hour or so ago. Two other chairs, likely comfier than his, sat against a nearby bookshelf and had a few books and stray papers sitting on them. The room was in disarray, looking like a windstorm had swept through it. Papers were everywhere along with open books and scrolls. His desk was the messiest part of the room, though it looked like it had some form of organization. “I apologize for the mess,” he said quickly, a light blush tinting his cheeks as he cleared off one of the chairs. “The festivities have been keeping me a bit, um, busy,” he explained, motioning to the mess. He figured at the least his book collection was impressive enough for a woman such as her. From actinology to zymology, the scribe had a book on nearly every science along with books on a variety of languages and miscellaneous skills.
[So sorry for the delay in response, everyone x.x I had a project due today so this week has been hectic with schoolwork and extra-curriculars.]