Affliciton

[lostclause]

Spoiler: Sheet

Name: Erir Lerakor
Class: Wizard
Race: Oktra
Age:
Weapon: Erir mainly uses his magic to aid his allies since his offensive powers are weak. However he can still draw upon bolts of fire when necessary. If his powers fail him he has a dagger concealed in his boot.

Appearance:

About that, except less evil looking.

Personality: Erir is fairly easy going. A wonderer all his life, he has never become much attached to any nation or race, meaning that he suffers little from the bigotry of other races. Another thing that his years of travelling have given him is a sense of efficiency and a solemn quietness. He trusts who he is travelling with regardless of their merit, knowing that trust is necessary for everyone's sake.

Bio: Erir was raised away from the villages of the Oktra, born and bred in the still young human lands. His parents died in one of the many clashes of racial violence that existed even in human lands when Erir was a fairly young. Erir honed his skills as he travelled, acting mainly as a caravan guard for goods travelling through dangerous areas. His magic was mainly focused on aiding his fellows and protecting their cargo and thus his defensive skills became disproportionately strong. Many years of travelling have made him stronger than the average member of his kind but still weak compared to other races.

I thought a support wizard would work well with Jak's character. Sorry if it's a bit short on dates, I'm not entirely certain how long these guys live (hence no age).

 

[Time Travelling Toaster]

Sorry if it's a bit short on dates, I'm not entirely certain how long these guys live (hence no age).

I forgot to add that into the Race bit, it's 300, so I just stuck him in as a random age, just PM me if you want it changed. We begin in 10 minutes, Shapsters can join in when he gets home etc, because the story won't bound forward past when he can show up, hopefully.

 

[lostclause]

Sorry if it's a bit short on dates, I'm not entirely certain how long these guys live (hence no age).

I forgot to add that into the Race bit, it's 300, so I just stuck him in as a random age, just PM me if you want it changed. We begin in 10 minutes, Shapsters can join in when he gets home etc, because the story won't bound forward past when he can show up, hopefully.

That's fine, thanks.

 

[Aqualung]

Sorry if it's a bit short on dates, I'm not entirely certain how long these guys live (hence no age).

I forgot to add that into the Race bit, it's 300, so I just stuck him in as a random age, just PM me if you want it changed. We begin in 10 minutes, Shapsters can join in when he gets home etc, because the story won't bound forward past when he can show up, hopefully.

Oh, I didn't know that, I just assumed it would be along the human's timeline since you didn't mention. Would you mind changing mine to 48, in that case? If not, it's no problem- it doesn't change his appearance, he's still young by their standards, just not that young.

 

[Time Travelling Toaster]

Spoiler: We

start now!

Thunder crackles over the hills and rain batters the ground of Dresha on a dull night during the Atrin pre-siege.

"...go and get the names on that list and return with them to me," drawls the exhausted King slumped in his throne, to a group of cloaked figures.

They depart silently after bowing their heads to the King.

"Fredrick, I can't imagine this 'threat' holding as just that anymore," he says rubbing his temple, "I think the Atrin may attack soon, unless..." he trails off, "unless we can convince their leader to change his or her mind on the matter."

And that list you asked to be delivered sir? Fredrick asks hearing the door creaking shut at the other end of the hall.

The King laughs lightly, "well, just wait and see. For now go and tell the chef to prepare what we talked of, that's all for now," he waves his hand uncaring for him to leave.

"Of course milord," bows Fredrick before leaving the room.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You have your targets to find correct? asks the leader of the group.

Yes sir, choruses the others.

Then ride and get them back here before the Atrin begin the leader nods to the group before turning to his horse and riding into the battering rain, each to their own people to gather the group.

His hawk takes off from his arm, to find it's wandering target before he sets off towards his city.

Spoiler: Requests

Please keep all OOC posts in spoilers.

Be descriptive and avoid one liners if humanely possible. Other than that enjoy it and most importantly enjoy it!

Yeah the hawks for lostclause, everyone else has a messenger.

Spoiler: Messengers

Are all your races, so if your a dwarf you get a dwarf etc, play it from them arriving and all that jazz

 

[SimpleChimp]

"A messenger has arrived" was the buzz around the gates, "He looks to be from the king."
"I heard he is here to warn us of war"
"I thought it was that we were safe"
"Maybe he is here for our lords death"
"Don't speak such-"

The chatter died as black boots struck across the cobble stone. Standing tall in his regal black and gold armor, a bald elf looked down upon the chattering guards. They began to rush about there work.

Slackers His boots sounded down the halls as he neared his King's chambers. This can not be good news His brisk pace carried him through the threshold and to the kings side.

" . . . We fear an Atrin attack is eminent-" the messenger shot a gaze upon the freshly arrived Royal Guard. With hands resting naturally upon his blades' handles, the Guard gave the messenger a haughty sneer.

The king lazily rolled his hand to tell the messenger to continue.

"The King requires your presence. We must persuade them not to attack either through diplomacy or-"

"Violence of Force" His voice seemed to boom through the too empty room, "My king, i request to lead the Troops to the Human kingdom."

"In do time, let the messenger speak" Came the kings faint voice.

 

[lostclause]

"Blasted creature!"

Erir had spotted the hawk circling above when he'd been walking through the streets to the local market. His worldly possessions were on his back the rain was not doing them any good. Then, in the middle of the road, he'd been distracted by this animal. Mindful that he didn't have a falconer's chainmail gauntlet, he'd had to take off his coat and wrap it around his arm before he could receive the message. Now the rain was pouring down through his linen clothes as he shooed the bird away and examined the nicks in his coat. Replacing the garment, he began to read the message. His eyebrows shot up as he read. He glanced at the retreating bird.

'What would the humans want with me?" he asked himself aloud. "Still, no better way to answer that than ask them." Hoisting his gear onto his back once more, he set out through the winding streets towards the castle, his feet skipping along the cobblestones with a magical speed.

 

[Aqualung]

"OI! LITT'L KID! WOTCHER DOIN?!"

"I-I- begging you pardon, sir! It's just, very very wet out tonight. And, well- oof!"

Paldo felt the air shoot from his chest like a canon as the man's massive hand struck him down. He fell backward and rolled from the impact, slipping off the back of the rough stranger's wagon, landing with his face in a muddy puddle. He dimly heard the man cackle wickedly and his horse whinny in an eerie sort of laugh, as he continued down the soggy dirt path.

It had been a wonderful ride while it had lasted. Paldo had been travelling on foot for quite some time, and as he had seen the lone merchant drive by on his modest two-wheeled cart, the temptation was too great to resist. He had spent the past day huddled under the canopy that protected the merchant's goods, mostly fine lumber. Unfortunately, in an effort to sit in a more comfortable position, he had made quite a disturbance beneath the blanket, and his cover was blown.

He would have asked for a ride, but that man happened to be the first human Paldo had ever seen- up close, anyway. They weren't as big as his friends back at home had told him, and they didn't look like they would eat their own children. But still, they were much larger than little Paldo, and still frightening.

With a groan, he sat up, pulling his face out of the mud puddle and wiping his face on the travelling cloak he wore. He turned to look behind to see that that man had already vanished into the thick veil of rain, leaving Paldo alone once again. With a sigh, he stood, straightening his clothes and picking up his large backpack which the man had at least been kind enough to toss off the cart.

"It's not as though I was hurting him," Paldo mused as he strapped the pack over his shoulders and began to walk after the vanished man. "If anything, he-"

He paused as an idea struck him. Putting his hands together as though in prayer, he muttered a few quick words.

His hands caught fire; he panicked; by the time he had managed to extinguish the magical blaze, his eyebrows had been singed away. With a disgruntled expression, he snapped his fingers- this spell, he was very practiced at by now- and the hair regrew instantly.

Heaving a second, heavier sigh, Paldo continued his trek through rain and mud. He would have to suffer being drenched to the core. Overhead, he noticed a hawk soar, and, smiling, waved to the bird. I'm sure he would give me a ride, were he pulling a cart! ...But what would a bird do with a cart?

So distracted by the hawk as it flew by overhead, Paldo failed to notice as a man on horseback approached from the way he had come.

The messenger kicked his horse in front of Paldo, halting the small Oktra in his tracks, and causing him to fall on his ass (again). The stranger extended a hand, gloved in expensive leather, and looked down to him with steely eyes.

"The King orders your presence."

Paldo blinked. "King?"

The man nodded.

"...King of what?"

"T-The King!"

"Oh, well, this whole nonsense makes somesense now!"

The man failed to detect the sarcasm, and Paldo stood, staring up at the man on his mighty horse.

"I didn't know we had a king."

Gritting his teeth, the messenger leaned over the side of his saddle and grabbed Paldo by the collar of his cloak, picking him high off the ground- ignoring his wildly swinging legs- and planted the Oktra on his saddle, before prodding the horse into a swift canter back the way they had come.

"Too high! TOO HIGH! The air! SO THIN!"

"Shut your mouth, Oktra."

"Respect! SO THIN!"

Spoiler: OOC

Hooray for ineptitude!

EDIT: Sorry. I novel'd. 8|

 

[ae86gamer]

After a bit of light training Arri had taken off her padding and rested on a bench in the royal courtyard. The place was beautiful. The flowers came from the Elven countryside. They were beautiful colors, ranging from bright yellow to soft oranges.

Standing from the bench Arri made her way to her bedroom. As the princess she was greeted by her servants, but she waved them away and bathed. She had always felt uneasy telling people what to do, instead wanting to do and experience things herself.

After getting dressed she made her way to her fathers, the kings, chambers. Upon entering she noticed Eiravel.

"Whats going on?" She announced loudly.

 

[SimpleChimp]

The messenger, being cut off yet again heaved a frustrated sigh

"Can you not keep your court in order?" Before his mouth had stopped its wagging a fine Elvish saber was glinting between his eyes with ill intent.

"You forsake your people to be a human messenger, then you come before the ruler of your people and speak out of term? I'd-"

"Eiravel, let the man speak."

"Your highness, we need your presence to stop the potential Atrin attack!"

"I am old and sick messenger, i can not travel to the whim of any king. I want to spend the rest of my days in the splendor of my kingdom, could i not send a replacement?"

Spoiler: ae86gamer

Perfect time for you to cut in with your offer of taking your fathers place. This would be a good time to meet the new races. . .

 

[ae86gamer]

" I will go, father." Arri walked closer to her father and held his hand. "I will go in your place. I am more than qualified. You have said so yourself."

"My sweet daughter. I cannot let you go. You are my only heir.. If something happened to you then our kingdom would have no ruler. I am afraid my answer is no."

Arri looked into her sickly fathers eyes, hoping that her words would persuade him she continued. "But father.. I have never been outside of the kingdom walls. Besides, if you let me go, then I will meet other races.. I.. I.." Arri couldn't put together a good enough argument. She wanted to go, she had over a hundred reasons why her father should let her go. But at that moment all her mind drew were blanks.

"Please father. I beg you... Let me go."

Looking over at the small group of soldiers in the room the King spoke.

"What do you think I should do Eiravel?"

 

[Time Travelling Toaster]

What is he planning to do with so many messengers? Fredrick thinks, walking towards the chef's quarters.

Morning sir, grunts one of the guards standing near the entrance.

"Good morning, anything happened today?" he asks trying to take his mind from the messengers.

Just that cloaked group that left sir, other than that all quiet...unfortunately.

Fredrick waves his goodbye silently, the halls near the kitchen and chefs quarters where buzzing with talk of the group.

He tells the chef of the King's order and leaves the room before chaos entrails in the flurry of orders he shouts.

Fredrick stalks back to the throne room quietly, deep in his thoughts.

Spoiler: OOC

Spoiler: OOC

Does it matter how we end up at the king, or do you just want us to get our hides there a.s.a.p.? :]

Take your time if you want to flesh your char out a bit or haul ass if you wish

 

[Aqualung]

Spoiler: OOC

Does it matter how we end up at the king, or do you just want us to get our hides there a.s.a.p.? :]

 

[SimpleChimp]

Eiravel looked upon the young princess. "She is just a child your highness, she knows nothing of battle" He looked at her pleading eyes, "She is your only heir, and the next in line to rule our people."

As the king was about to talk, Eiravel cut in, "And what kind of ruler would she be if she was never let outside of these walls?"

He watched as her eyes lit up,

"I will be her personal body guard and make sure she stays out of danger."

"Fine, I can trust the son of a Cyredrahel. Your family has shown nothing but loyalty and prowess with a blade. With you at my Daughter's side i have no other choice but to let her go."

He leaned foreward to speak with his daughter privately

"Trust in Eiravel, he might be distant but he is a great and loyal warrior. Please come home to me and your mother in one peace."

 

[LockHeart]

Sitting on his stool in the Blue Boar, Korgan looked down into his flagon of mead. There was very little left in this one, or any of the dozen or so empty flagons that stood close to his place at the bar. Belching, he looked around the smoky room, his vision blurred. Grunting, he reached into one of the pouches at his waist and took out a long pipe crafted from willow, along with a small box of tinder and smokeweed - Taldar Mountain's finest. Packing a small amount of the tobacco into his pipe, he struck some sparks from his flintstone and inhaled, savouring the sweet smoky taste as it mixed with the residual honey flavour of the mead. Smiling, he dropped a few coins on the bar surface, which the round faced human bartender scooped up quickly, nodding with an unsure look in his eyes.

Korgan chuckled drunkenly as he swung himself down from his stool, swaying slightly as he hit the floor. None of these surfacers seemed to know how to handle seeing a Dwarf in their territory. Walking past the fire pit in the centre of the tavern, Korgan continued to puff on his pipe, moving past the other humans, some of whom shot sideways glances at him as he passed. Moving over to the stairs, he made his way upwards, marvelling (as he always did) at the spacing of the stairs; even after a year he'd still not gotten used to the extra effort that he had to put in to climb them. Unlocking and entering his room, he shut the door and moved over to the small pile of possessions he had placed in the trunk at the end of his bed. Opening the chest, he lifted Snaga out, marvelling at the glinting blades and running his finger along the edge. A knock at the door made him whip round, bringing Snaga to bear as the door opened, a war cry on his lips. The cry never left when he saw that the figure at the door was another Dwarf. Korgan lowered his axe and squinted drunkenly at the Dwarf.

"Whozzur?"

The figure stepped forward - it was an aged Dwarf, maybe around one hundred and thirty years old, dressed in finely made clothes of human fashion and tailoring. Raising his hand, the Elder spoke.

"Greetings, Korgan Thoral, son of Gorek, Ironclad Warrior of Clan Azaghal, son of Baranzibar, I come bearing a message, if you will hear me."

The Elder seemed remarkably open, but Korgan still kept his axe at the ready, his eyes narrowed.

"Who are you? Who sent you?"

The Elder nodded, holding his hands wide.

"I am Talin Modahn, son of Heol, formerly of Clan Badenrizar, ambassador to the Dwarven Clans. I have come here to extend an offer from King Daniel VI, he requests your service in relation to a potential Atrin attack.

Korgan spat on the floor, growling with anger.

"Bah, Clanless! I'll not have your presence curse me with worse luck than I already have! Leave me alone! I should've known you were trouble when I saw you were wearing upwolder clothing!"

The Elder Dwarf shook his head sadly.

"Very well, I thought that this may happen. Your belief in our Gods and traditions was mentioned to me. I shall leave this with you, in case you change your mind."

Reaching into his finely made tunic, he pulled out a scroll, sealed with wax, and laid it on the small table next to the door. He turned and walked to the threshold of the door, pasuing and turning his head.

"Fare thee well, Korgan son of Gorek. I hope you find what it is that you seek."

That said, he left, closing the door behind him. Standing for another 30 seconds, Korgan stared at the door, not thinking anything. Lowering Snaga, he stumbled over to the table and picked up the scroll, noting the seal of the human royal family. Placing Snaga on the worn surface of the table, he broke the seal, his thick fingers unrolling the script. Squinting, even now human script always slightly baffled him, Korgan read through, reading aloud as he did so.

"Atrin attack... imminent... warriors... request..."

Burping again, he placed the script back on the table, swaying and catching himself as he did so.

"Huh, I've heard a lot of stories about these Atrin, guess I could go and brain a few... Especially if this job pays well, seeing as he's a bloody King... But still, fucking Clanless bringing the Gods down on my head..."

Picking up Snaga, he locked the door and staggered over to the bed. Resting the axe by the bedstead, he clambered under the covers (again, even after a year, he had not fully accustomed to the chill of the surface world after so long in the warm subterranean depths) and fell asleep almost instantly, snoring loudly as he did so.

 

[Aqualung]

Spoiler: OOC

Guess I'll just haul ass! Sorry if I keep writing novels... heh. And the setting wasn't really described... So I'm just going to make up locations as I post- if I need to edit, just let me know and I gladly will!

By the time the two had reached the large city- Sweet, sweet pipes, that is large!- the rain had lessened somewhat to a more painful drizzle of the tiniest raindrops. They felt more like the pins and needles of the bush that Paldo had a habit of falling into, but at least this rain didn't weigh down his clothing as heavily.

The city was magnificent even beneath the dark shroud of storm clouds, and Paldo struggled to see every inch of it that he could as the horse blazed through empty streets. That horse remained the only thing keeping Paldo from jumping off and running away from his kidnapper, since it was likely that such a fall would break his neck (so he thought). At least he was travelling faster now than the rude man with his cart of timber had been.

As they rode, the streets became cleaner, the buildings taller, and the few people who littered the streets seemed more of the well-to-do type with their lavish dress and blasé nature. They approached the most noble structure within the city soon; a tall palace, its many windows lit warmly from inside, making the menacing and looming towers seem only a little more inviting. The messenger steered his horse straight through the front gates without hesitation, and through the entranceway. Upon nearing the colossal front doors to the palace, he dismounted, helping Paldo down roughly afterward. Another man with hair the colour of carrots stepped forward and led his steed away, while the messenger pushing the small Oktra by the shoulder.

"Shove on," he said gruffly. Wrapping his cloak more tightly about himself to fend off the cold, Paldo stared upward in amazement. This fellow wasn't joking. Oh, but Paldo, what have you done now?

Their path was long and winding, through massive halls decorated with all sorts of ornamentation- ornate rugs, colourful tapestries, vivid paintings, and weapons that hung on the walls. He soon found himself lost as the kidnapper would command him to turn left or right, up a fair amount of stairs, and into a hallway more broad than the others. They approached a large wooden set of doors, carved with figures of lions and other great beasts, before the tall man stopped.

"Y-You know, this king is probably busy, performing kingly acts, like eating a great deal-"

"I told you to shut it, Oktra."

Paldo shrugged. "You fail to make a very good first impression. A smile ought to brighten your day!" he said, putting on a beaming smile. The messenger looked to him, his lips curved downward in what might be construed as disgust.

"...Shutting it."

The kidnapper leaned forward and pushed against the doors, which opened with a loud creak. As they swung back against their hinges, the messenger pushed Paldo into the large room.

He froze, feeling a fair number of eyes fall on him, and silence.

After a long moment, he reached for a pouch at his belt, and held it aloft.

"Would anybody like a pecan?"

Spoiler: OOC

<--Eating pecans.

 

[ae86gamer]

Arri smiled widely when her father agreed to let her go. Hugging her father tightly she spoke to him quietly in his ear. "Of course I will come home father. I promise you that I will. And when I do, I will have gained all the experience necessary for me to become a great leader just like you and mother. "

After letting go of her father Arri turned to Eiravel. His skill was well known throughout the Elven kingdom. Arri nodded, then bowed to show her respect for the experienced fighter. "Thank you too Eiravel. Without your kind words I would not have been able to accompany you on this very important journey. Once again, thank you."

This new journey will seemingly change my entire life. Thank the goddess that I have Eiravel by my side to protect me. Still, I do not know how the other races will act towards us. I know that not everyone will dislike us, but I know that many will.

 

[lostclause]

Erir dropped his enchantment as he neared the castle gates. In times of war people were all too willing to jump to conclusions so he'd best keep his magic to a minimum. He briefly considered a glamour, so as to appear human, but decided against it. After all, if he'd been summoned it would only create confusion.

Instead, Erir merely walked up to the castle gates and joined the bustling crowd that was moving in and out. Upon asked for LeRouge, who's name had been on the summons, Erir was directed to a gaunt man who appeared to be a lord or noble of some kind. He also appeared to be in a hurry such that the Oktra had trouble keeping up.

"Pardon me Mr LeRouge but I do believe this is a note from your good self," Erir said and showed the small, damp piece of paper. Erir knew that 'Mr LeRouge' was probably not the right form of address but he disliked titles in general (although he wasn't sure that that wasn't jealousy on his part).

 

[SimpleChimp]

"Gather your gear and ready your horse princess, if i may be excused My Liege?" With a court nod he briskly walked out the door in his long calculated strides. His black heels struck off the cobble stone as he headed towards his family's home. He marched threw the door and watched as the help scurried about there daily chores. His mother sat in her chair staring longingly out the window into the empty yard. She had lost her will to live when her eldest boys died besides her husband, she did not find solace in her only living son. His family now rested upon his shoulders, a weight the young elf was not ready to bear. He grabbed his always ready travel pack and cloak before swinging back out of the door to the family stable.

He stood in front of his Father's prized war horse, a perfectly trained grey mare with fire in her eyes, and slung the worn saddle on to her back. The saddle was inlaid with Elvish runes and Knot work that wove an intricate pattern into the heavy war saddle.

He walked the horse around the yard once letting her muscles loosen before climbing onto her back and riding up to the castle gates, where he waited for the princess.

 

[Shapsters]

Spoiler: Bombur Trollhunter

Now keep in mind I just read The Hobbit so I may be taking bits from the Dwarves in that novel Also, I would have been a female dwarf but... I would imagine they have beard so... *shudder* Each category has a quote from Bombur.

Name: "I have this name for a reason!" Bombur Ironforger/Trollhunter
Race: "I'm a dwarf, proud and true, certainly not a fancy pantsy elf!" Dwarf
Class: "By axe and muscle I defeat my foes!" Fighter
Age: "I'm not old...merely experienced!" 111
Appearance: "No royal blood runs through my veins, I wear what I have and it serves me well." Bombur has the normal Dwarf appearance, long beard, thick eyebrows, tough skin and a red tinge to his hair. He is probably a bit fat, he enjoys large meals and even larger naps, but it doesn't seem to affect his stamina or abilities. He has no royalty in his blood so he usual wears whatever armor presents itself to him, if he finds a better set of armor he will gladly switch. The one thing that does keep consistent is his hood, passed down many generations, Bombur's father received it from his father and so on. It is a glorious golden-yellow with scarlet stitching, it is hundreds, upon hundreds of years old but it would appear as though it had just been crafted by the finest of Dwarvin clothiers.
Weapons: "My axe is my very soul!" Bombur wields an axe, which he himself hand crafted when he was old enough to be taught how to fight by his father. The men in his family have always been iron-forgers, and they have all crafted their own weapons with the guidance of their fathers.
Personality: "Elves? PAH!" Gruff, tough and obnoxious. Typical Dwarf attitude is held by Bombur for that is the way he feels. Oktra are suspicious and mysterious, humans are average and boring, then you have the elves, don't get Bombur started on the elves! They are fancy pantsy, fairies and not to be trusted!
Bio/History: "I am but a modest beast slayer!" Bombur grew up a simple man, his father taught him how to work with metals and he was a iron-forger for a long while. He eventually got bored of his mundane life and ventured into the forest, hoping to slay some beasts and make a name for his family. He has killed many trolls and other beasts in his travels and that is why he is called Trollhunter.

Sorry about the brief history, I will add more later, just wanted to get my sheet in for I have to leave now.