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Loiterer

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                                            T H E _H I S T O R Y


                                            In the realm of Eithlond, there once existed many beings, and all were at peace. From the Makers, each of the peoples of Eithlond were bestowed their own portion of the land: The elves and forest-folk were gifted their woodland, the men their fertile soils, the harpies and other mountain beasts their mountains and skies, and the mermaid and water folk their waters.

                                            For a time before the marking of time, all of Eithlond was in order, but the greed of mankind eventually spoiled the goodness in the earth. The peace was broken when their people first crossed the bounds of their territory and invaded the people's that resided there. Soon, a great war was wrought throughout the land, which lasted for one hundred years. Mankind has pushed most of the natives into the corners of the earth, where they were all but forgotten about β€”Β As time continued on at its own pace, these races had become nothing but myth and legend. All magic was gone from the realm of Eithlond.

                                            P R E S E N T L Y


                                            Our story takes place in the Kingdom of Noitrem, one of two most influential nations of man, and one of the eldest. Noitrem had lasted through the war and beyond, keeping its citizens safely tucked inside of its great stoned walls. Most that have grown up inside of this Kingdom rarely seek a reason to leave it, as it is the wealthiest on the Eastern hemisphere.

                                            Strange things have been happening in Noitrem, though... Ranging from inexplainable murders, to curious happenings. Mothers have begun to re-spin the tales of the old creatures of the realm, warning their children that if they stay too late at night, they might encounter something unnatural.

                                            And they weren't joking.


                                            There have been recent murders in Noitrem. Victims are usually left torn apart, and as it appears to be, half-eaten. Some duller folk have suspected wolves, but how and why would the animals make their way inside of the gates?

                                            genre: medieval fantasy.
                                            inspired by: lots of amazing stuff.
                                            images: found on photobucket.

Loiterer

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                                        1. Basic stuff. Follow Gaia Tos. Keep everything PG-17; this means that violence and romance are indeed allowed and encouraged, but please time skip the details.

                                        2. Semi-Lit means, in my terms, that you follow basic grammar and make your posts interesting. No one-liners, and enough to allow others enough intrigue to respond. I'm not picky about length, so long as your posts aren't dry. If you're into your character, then I'm sure this will be no problem!

                                        3. No Godmoding or auto-hitting/dodging. You can dodge every once and awhile, but this has to align with your character's skillset. Please don't dodge all the time. It's fun to get injured. With that, please do not auto-hit or kill off characters without the owner's consent. If you have been plotting and it's cool that you smack the other player's character around, then make sure to put a note in ooc at the bottom of your post, so I know it's all good.

                                        4. No Demi God/Godlike characters in this roleplay, please. There are many races to choose from, I tried to give you that freedom. Please stick to the abilities listed for each race.

                                        5. Absence: If you are going to be gone, or won't be able to post, or are logging off, please let us know, for pete's sake! Some of us may be waiting, or enthused that you're online, when the next second you log off. Of course, we understand real life cannot always allow this convenience. But please be generous to your roleplaying pals ;D

                                        6. This is a medieval fantasy world/setting. With that being said, be somewhat realistic about the era. Homosexuality, interracial relationships, etc are mostly not widely accepted but that doesn't mean that you can't do it. In fact, it is WELCOME. More dramas, the better. c: On another note, please make sure the characters suit their culture corresponding with their race, or this is otherwise explained in the profile that they were raised in a different setting. Ex: Getting profiles with Elven characters named something like "Marissa" doesn't make any sense, unless they were somehow raised by humans, etc.

                                        7. Profiles are fun. Please no repeat characters. For example: if you look over the other characters before you join and you see that there is already a Noble with a snippy attitude and brains, please don't make a duplicate. Make varied individuals. It's fun!

                                        8. Roleplay profile pictures must be real life/photographs. No illustrations, or anime. If you need help finding a model, let me know. Last note about profiles... HEY YOU KNOW WHAT'S COOL? You don't have to complete a profile first. Thass right. If you send me a reserve, you can rp right away, so long as you send me a sample of your writing. BUT I WOULD like a profile from you eventually. I just know profiles can be a pain in the a** sometimes.

                                        9. Have fun! This roleplay is totally kept alive by group participation and plotting. SO PLOT. PLOT AWAY.

                                        Reserve:


                                        If anything, you MUST send me this before roleplaying. If I accept this, you can begin roleplaying. Profiles you can take up to a week to complete, as I do want them from you eventually. It's normal that I ask you a few questions about your character, especially if you don't immediately attach a profile. c:

                                        [img]150x150 picture of character[/img]
                                        Name:
                                        Race:
                                        Role: (if applicable)
                                        Sample: (of your writing, especially if you don't immediately create a profile before roleplaying)


                                        Profile Skeleton:
                                        No need to title the pm anything. I trust you read the rules.

                                        [align=center][img]url of your character image here[/img][/align]

                                        [list][list][list][list][list][size=11]
                                        [b]Name:[/b] [i]Full name of character[/i]
                                        [b]Other titles:[/b] [i]Nicknames, titles[/i]
                                        [b]Sex:[/b] [i]Biological sex[/i]
                                        [b]Age:[/b] [i]Age/approx age.[/i]
                                        [b]Race:[/b] [i]Your character's race. Be sure to look at the section of 'Races' to play as on the thread![/i]
                                        [b]Orientation:[/b] [i]Heterosexual, Homosexual, Bisexual...[/i]
                                        [b]Status/Occupation:[/b] [i]Job/Role/Societal status. Ex: Peasant, Blacksmith, Thief, and the list goes on.[/i]

                                        [b]Biography:[/b] [i]Can be as long as you please, or as short. However, if you want your character to be 'mysterious', this is understood. But for the sake of plotting and playing, I will ask that you spill most of your character's secrets here.[/i]

                                        [b]Personality:[/b] [i]Your character's personality! Make them interestin! [/i]

                                        [b]Appearance:[/b] [i]Scars, tattoos, general appearance, etc.[/i]

                                        [b]Abilities:[/b] [i]Please adhere to your selected race's abilities[/i].

                                        [b]Other:[/b] [i]Any pets, quirks, likes, dislikes, or any other details you'd like to include?[/i]

                                        [b]Crush?[/b] [i]This can be updated later in the rp. If you're feeling adventurous, immediately starting a character out with a crush is always fun, too.[/i]

                                        [b]Theme Song:[/b] [url=url to your character's theme song]Name of song![/url]

                                        [b]Ruler:[/b] [i]Your username[/i].

Loiterer

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                                        Kingdom of Noitrem: A mainly human-occupied Kingdom governed by a tyrannical King, its wealth is taken from logging the surrounding forests and hunting.

                                        Kingdom of Ugaria: A rivaling human-occupied Kingdom by the sea, ruled by an oppressive Queen. Its wealth is taken from fishing and intricate textile manufacturing.

                                        Myths of the world beyond... (Will be edited and added as the story expands)

                                        Nimtas: Rumored to be a large populace that lives just inside the Haunted Wealds, mostly comprising of Nymphs. They are ruler-less, and governed only by their lords and chieftains. Any who wander into the Haunted Wealds never return, and it is said this is often because they are eaten by the creatures that still live therein.

                                        Londuinn: In myth and tale, this was the sanctuary and largest concentration of Elves, deep within the Haunted Wealds. In the days of old, they had a single monarch to which they were ruled.

                                        City of Batun: Supposedly only in fantasy, this is the refuge of Winged Creatures β€” Primarily a Kingdom of Harpies, whom have since prided themselves in their lack of involvement in worldly skirmishes.


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                                        R A C E S


                                        Humans: The dominant race of most of the realm, and thought to be the only race. Humans are incredibly intelligent, and are clever manufacturers of their own wealth. Magic does not exist in their culture, and most our taught that magic does not exist in the entire realm since the ending of the war so many years ago.

                                        Nymphs: There is much tension between the Elves and the Nymphs, as the Elves consider the Nymphs a much more savage and unrefined folk than they. They are extremely good huntsman, and are also blessed with elemental-based magics. They have extremely keen eyes, able to see clearly in the dark β€” It is a possibility that they were once nocturnal predators. They are almost entirely immune to most illnesses and diseases.

                                        Elves: Consider themselves the dominant of the forest-dwellers. They are swift and nimble, and their lifespans are prolonged; an elf can live up to one-thousand to fifteen-hundred years. Because of their prolonged lifespans, they consider themselves ancient and knowledgable creatures, superior to the other forest-dwellers. They have keen ears and senses, but can only use very little magic, mostly to do with healing and temperament. They are incredibly vulnerable to diseases and toxins.

                                        Dwarves: Short in stature, they make up for it in their sheer might and craftsmanship; not even an elf can craft as fine and durable a weapon as any skilled dwarf. Most have withdrawn into the mountains, where no man can venture. They can be nearly as strong if not twice as strong as any man, but lack any magical abilities.

                                        Lycan: Another term used to label these creatures are werewolves. They are what is causing all the commotion in Noitrem, to begin with. Lycans have the ability to transform into the form of a large and monstrous wolf whenever they please. Younger pups tend to have less control over their abilities, which can be problematic. They can be killed just as any other wolf or mortal man can; however, while in wolf form, they are much stronger, and able to withstand quite a lot of damage before eventually bleeding out/or otherwise being decapitated. They can get especially hungry and ravenous during a full moon, but they do not, per say, have no control over themselves.

                                        Harpies: Harpies, or other winged folk, (which include Fae) are human-like beings equipped with wings. They can obviously fly, and are also keen on detecting things on the wind. Most harpies can emit a screech that, at such a high frequency, can momentarily stun its victims. Fae are magically inclined. Both are physically more fragile than the other races, as their bones are hollow.

Loiterer

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Completed Profiles l OOC Thread


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roles available:
King of Noitrem + Prince
Queen of Ugaria
Elvish King + Prince (eldest) + Prince (youngest)
Daughter of Nymph Chieftain
Dwarf King
Alpha of the Lycans in Noitrem

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Loiterer

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                                C U R R E N T L Y


                                Both the King of Noitrem and the Queen of Ugaria have decided to form a temporary alliance, though there is still tension between the nations. There have been recent murders in Noitrem. Most non-humans that live in Noitrem know that this is due to the Lycans, and are irritated with their recent activity.

                                Event: Abaet, also known as the Tall Dwarf, has come to Noitrem to scout out the Lycan problem. Any who wish to assist him (or repel him, for that matter) can catch him in the streets.

                                I M P O R T A N T _F A C T S


                                β€’ Elves are particularly rare outside of the Wealds. It is strictly against the law of their Kingdom to wander outside the bounds of their territory. Though most races, if they live amongst humans, conceal their race, it is very rare for an elf to choose to live elsewhere than the Weald.
                                β€’ Nymphs and other forest-folk are far more common , (unbeknownst to mankind). Many leave their forests to seek a better life in the West.
                                β€’ Dwarves are considering war against mankind. This is obviously bad.
                                β€’ Harpies are considered quite meddlesome and tricky, and are not to be trusted.
                                β€’ Noitrem's Lycans are responsible for the murders, thus being, a lot of the inhabitants that aren't quite human are angry for drawing attention to them.

                                Racial slurs:

                                β€’ Elves: Dagger-ears/pointy-ears, fop, elfling (can be used in a degrading way), root-muncher.
                                β€’ Dwarves: Stump, Hairball.
                                β€’ Nymphs: Leaf-eaters, Twig, Savages, Nador (short for Nadorhaun, meaning dog/”cowardly” dog, used mostly by Elves).
                                β€’ Lycans: Dog, Mutt, Cur, Pooch, Tail-wagger.
                                β€’ Harpies: Bird, Screecher, Poultry.

                                T A K E N _F A C E C L A I M S

                                Orlando Bloom
                                Gerard Butler
                                Willy Cartier
                                Mila Kunis
                                Dean O'Gorman
                                Ogre
                                Lee Pace
                                Tom Hiddleston

Loiterer

Loiterer

Loiterer

Loiterer

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This rp is now open and accepting! Please wait to be accepted by me via pm before posting.

A N N O U N C E M E N T S

New = Bold
Old = Italicized

Ooc thread is now up!
OOC THREAD.
The link will also be available next to the 'Completed Profiles' link on the Characters post.


Character Updates

I'm really wanting to integrate some characters from new players before I allow any more from the
current players to pass. Side characters are also allowed, but should be used to further character
plots. They are also a bit more subject to harm or death, but of course not without permission.

Plot updates // Important for new members

The current happenings are pretty lengthy, so I don't want to post summaries in this section
and scare possible new members. I do not expect new members to read all the previous pages
of the role-play, but a summary will be given to those who are interested. However, I do expect
new members to read over the profiles, mostly to assure that there won't be any duplicate
personality types or character types.

Loiterer

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                                            How can I s β„“ Ρ” Ρ” ρ at night...
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                                                      He was rolling out of bed and dressing, when Lady Cristiana, his Father's mistress (or rather, his soon-to-be-wife), began to speak to him. Drunk off of the red wine she loved so much, she purred to him as he slipped on his trousers, "You know what I like about you, Telian, dear? You simply don't care. You never seem to care." She giggled obnoxiously, leaning back against her pillow and turning to him, "It's a good trait for a man. Your Father would have done well to adhere to it."

                                                      He feigned a smile, and before he pulled on his shirt, leaned over on the bed, making as if he were to kiss her, "And do you know what I love about you, Lady Cristiana?" He purred, before his expression dropped entirely, and his voice hardened, "...You keep your promises."

                                                      She frowned at this, slapping him across the face, and leaned upwards to pull her robes around her aging body, "Yes, yes," She grumbled, "I have three more months until that technicality is adhered to." She scorned, "I should have the contract rewritten, you know. The nature of it is rather unfair."

                                                      Ignoring the raw side of his face, he pulled on his white tunic, back turned from her, "Was it, now?"

                                                      "Bloody light blinds me." She muttered to herself, "I need more wine." Turning, she began to saunter out, but before she shut the door, she called behind her shoulder, "...Telian, dear. You would do well to cease reciting your Father's work," The last note she dropped with a jingle in her voice; obviously content in the reaction it was bound to stir within the younger fellow, "You know it will never get you anywhere."

                                                      With that, she shut the door, and he was left to stir quietly in anger.

                                                      Three months. Three. Bloody. Months. He couldn't honestly handle it, and in fact, his decision quite suddenly made, he wouldn't. Quite a bit had been stirring around in his head over these past few weeks; thoughts of his Father, thoughts of the Lurakrod name, and many, many thoughts of his beloved niece, Leah, whom he had not been able to see. In fact, he truly had not been able to see much of the light of day since the contract had been accepted, which had been for over a year.


                                                      He couldn't take it anymore.

                                                      Pulling on his boots, he straightened his clothes, slicked back his messy hair (which did little for him, anyways), and proceeded to the bathroom. Though the Lady kept her estate securely locked, there was a window close to the top of the ceiling, meant to keep the bathroom ventilated. She would have never suspected him to escape, anyways, as doing so would mean stepping over his Father's name β€” The contract broken, nothing would prevent her from ruining their title.

                                                      Except, maybe... If he did something truly astonishing. Though that idea seemed very misplaced to him, still, he seemed to settle for one of his lesser goals: Finding Leah her Father would restore his sisters pride, and hopefully, her heart. This would be his own adventure. This would be his own choice.

                                                      Before he left, though, he was sure to do one thing: Steal from her funds. She kept quite a bit of coin in a safe in her closet, crafted with a lock. But he had done his fair share of meddling, and retrieved a spare key that he had hidden under a loose floorboard. Hefty with enough coin to get him what he needed, he resumed his path out. As he climbed through the window and slipped into the night, he made his way for the stables, having no time to steal a sword, or even decent traveling clothes for that matter. He would have to pick up on supplies once he was out...

                                                      He had never left Noitrem in the entirety of his life, and the realization of that made him pause as he prepared his brother's horse. For a moment he was there, quite frozen, pondering as to whether this was the most intelligent decision to make; he was never one to act irrationally, and yet, he felt completely compelled to do so.

                                                      And so he did.

                                                      He rode out of the stables and down the street, furthering his venture into the great City. By the time he arrived at the marketplace, he would be easily concealed by the crowds. Dismounting, he lead his horse down the street. Unfortunately, since it was approaching nightfall, most of the markets were closing... Thus being, he needed to get what he needed and leave. The recent murders had not even crossed his mind; most of those still lingering in the streets were hurrying to get inside not just because of closing hours, but because of the potential threats that lingered in the night.

                                                      currently : Streets and Marketplace of Noitrem l theme l wearing : nothing fancy l ooc:

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                                                      ...There's a Ο‰ Ξ± я inside my head.

Tipsy Vampire

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                                            I am with you... f o r e v e r... the end...
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                                                      The Phoenix...

                                                      So much power, destruction in death in a name. But what was in a name? Warlocks and wizards alike believed that to own a name, meant to own the vessel. Plebeian folk--humans they called themselves--believed that a name held no more power than a ghost of essence. But elves? Elven folk believed in something purer, something much more ethereal. In a name held much more than the power to own the vessel, a ghost of what once was, but rather, what is. The name was the soul, the name was who you were and the name? The name held truth, The name was soul. The name was power. The name held being.

                                                      Some names were meant to be spoken in the daylight, in a time when every syllable, every enunciation could be spoken with ease and delight, the flash of illumination spreading over it's power without so much a whisper to hide from. Other names were meant to be whispered, feared the way most dark things were meant to be whispered, feared; in the corners of the heart, of the very Akasha. The Phoenix was just another one of those names. Whispered only by lips who dared to stray into unknown territory, the name had become associated solely by a red coin, blood strewn angrily around by those same lips, before it spread like wildfire only by those that did not fear immediate death. One utterance of The Phoenix with ill intent, malice or jest would sooner result in nothing more than a flash of golden orbs, a thin lipped smirk, and the sound of elven silver slicing through the air, and through flesh for she was a killer, and a dammed feared one at that.

                                                      Scars littered her body as if she were nothing more than the exact poster child for self mutilation but was that not the sign of a true killer? Would no proud veteran of the great wars sung about in halls of stone and gold bear the shameful marks like armor? Death followed her like Hansel and Gretel's breadcrumbs, brought on by the strike of her own hand, and the She Elf preferred it that way, just like she preferred her eyes the colour of molten gold unknown to nature to be hidden, shielded from the world by an emerald green cloak, hooded and mysterious. Her thin lips pursed as she brought a long, black gloved finger to them to lightly run along her bottom lip, deep in surface thought.

                                                      Saphina was not an elf to be trifled with, and it had been obvious that even the bar keeper had made mental tabs not to approach the woman unless absolutely needed, which was surely when her red wine, rich and earthy (for Mortal's taste) had reached dangerously close to the bottom. The woman had taken it upon herself to keep the golden eyed Elf's glass at a constant half full, careful to keep ambitious humanoids from approaching the recognized hood without valid cause and paid promise. Though it would only suffice for so long before someone by the end of the night would approach the woman with either an offer too good--or too outrageous--to be true that she would either accept or deny. It had been long since she had seen her accept any... 'Proposals', and it seemed that the pointed eared scarred vagabond was overdue.

                                                      If that was the most trouble she had to deal with this Harvest Moon night, there were worse things that could happen.

                                                      The She-Elf reached down to lightly stroke the stem of her glass, watching every man make his move, laughing loudly, singing and hollering by the aid of the liquor flowing like milk and honey, and could not help but allow the corners of her mouth to peel up into a very uncharacteristic smile as it spread over her face. There was something about this evening, something magical that seemed to reverberate through her bones, singing to her the song of the moon children, urging her to join in their blessed dances of praise and worship. The earth called through the tavern floors, its whisping tendrils slinking through her boots to grasp at each toe, and the air, though warm and humid, breathed new life into her lungs.

                                                      And then she saw him.

                                                      currently : Noitrem tavern in a far corner l theme l wearing : elvish attire l ooc:

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                                                      ...I cant face t h e d a r k without you.

Panda McGee's Partner

Indulgent Bibliophile

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  • Foolhardy Benefactor 500
  • Demonic Associate 100
  • Bookworm 100
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β€œThat bloody rooster has three seconds before I…” a massive lump under the blankets growled ominously, rolling away from the first tendrils of sun that snuck between the boards of his window coverings. Blissful silence fell almost as soon as he had spoke, leaving behind only the sound of muffled voices and a faint clip-clop of ox hooves followed by the tiring grind of a wooden axle. With a sigh of relief, the lump settled back down into the pile of blankets that engulfed his bed, hiding from the brisk morning air that swept in from the street. He had plenty of work to do, just not yet.

Another loud call came from a certain deplorable fowl and Faelon sat up with a snarl, β€œFine! Have it your way!” Using all his strength, the lump heaved a massive feather pillow at the wall. In an explosion of feathers, the pillow was no more and rooster that belonged to his neighbor made its way to the other end of the block. Groaning, the dwarf ran his hands over his face, scrubbing his eyes to banish the last bits of sleep from them. His unbraided hair hung around his face like a hay bale, tangled and begging for attention, as he threw away the warm covers and embraced the chill hug of morning. Craning his neck with a loud pop, Faelon pushed himself to his feet and grabbed quickly for his over shirt and quickly relaced his breeches. Rolling both shoulders to relieve the tension in his chest, the blonde dwarf slowly made his way to the larger water basin that stood in the middle of his large wooden work table. Grabbing for his comb and cinnamon oil, Faelon lowered himself onto the three-legged stool beside the basin and began his morning grooming rituals.

All tangles freed, hair and beard clean, he began to work the oil through the thick mane. The thick, heady scent of cinnamon filled the room, warming him as he began to relax and compile his workload in his mind. Thick, heavily scarred fingers moved deftly, creating smooth and intricate plaits in their usual spots. He fastened them with the gleaming silver beads and clasps his brother had given him upon his Naming Day. Sighing, he murmured a small prayer in his name to Mahal before heading out to attend the day.

- - - - -

Soon night was falling over Noitrem, and the sun burnt a red smudge across the evening sky. The deep reds and greys reflected the colors of his forge as it smoldered through the last of his projects for the day. Bringing down his mallet once more, Faelon ran his forearm across his face to get the sweat out of his eyes, turning the sword to catch the light and check for any other sprains. Satisfied, he dunked the fading orange steel into the large catch basin to his right, allowing the water to stop the expanding process. The sword hissed, sputtering in defiance against such treatment before giving in and starting to cool.

With a small chuckle, the dwarf picked up the dirt-stained head towel from his work bench and moped his face and forehead with it. He smiled happily upon the workload that lay sprawled across his table before running the towel across the back of his neck. Tossing the sweaty rag into a side basin, Faelon reached up to release his hair from the leather strip that kept it away from the forge while he was working. Across the open yard, Deraz lifted his great head and nickered, his lip wiggling as he attempted to nibble at his owner.

Ruffling the pony’s massive forelock, he paused to quickly brush it out of his eyes and plait it to lie on the side of his face. Not getting the treats he was expecting, the pony hurumphed under his breath and moved his head away from the front of the stall. Jeering at him in Khuzdul, Faelon stuck out his tongue and threw a bit of oats at his obstinate pony. Tugging at the throat closure of his shirt, the dwarf started to head back to his main living quarters when something caught his eye.

Just off his side-alley there was a man, a young man at that, leading a horse and looking… scared? No, confused was more likely. Faelon had half a mind to continue on his way, but the gossip of recent murders sat swimming at the back of his mind and he soon found himself turning back with a sigh towards the alley. Hell, maybe he could sell him something. Leaning on the dark gate that blocked his interior courtyard from the road, Faelon smiled in greeting through his beard, β€œHo there! Might you be looking for sword? I see you’re without one!” A quick glance over the lad and he saw that he seemed to be traveling, but could not make out any weapons. Of course, it could easily be tucked against his person..

β€œI don’t mean to scare ya’, but with the events of late, it’ll be best to be flashing something on your hip. Come on, I’ve got just the thing.” Pulling the gate open, he held it wide for the traveler, hoping he’d accept the offer.



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|| Faelon ThulonΓ»n || Wearing- The Normal Wear || At Home -- Noitrem || ooc: --- ||

Loiterer

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                                                                    β–€ β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€β–€ β–€ theme l wearing: the usual. l location/company: tavern in Noitrem, tavern folk. l l ooc:

                                                                    He had not returned to Noitrem in so long. In fact, he had not been expecting to. He had a past here, and there was no doubt that he would be recognized if he happened upon folk that had known his wife β€” Or, rather, the woman who would have been his wife. He worried not of it, though, as this was not the reason he had come: He was here purely for business, and one of important regard.

                                                                    He had received word that a pack of Lycans were not behaving so brilliantly. Their reckless behavior was leaving bloodstains on the city, but more importantly, suspicions were traveling in the wrong direction. There were plenty of folk that weren't human that lived in Noitrem, and the fact that the Lycans were suddenly acting out would eventually draw unwanted attention to them. But Abaet was not here to spare the well-being of the sparse non-human citizens that lived in Noitrem; even more still, he was here to prevent what would inevitably come if this were to happen. Noitrem was not to learn of the creatures that still lived beyond mankind's territoryβ€” if they did, another war was very likely.

                                                                    Most had agreed, especially the Elves, who were rare to even see among the non-humans, that it was best that they hide and remain unseen. There were some, though, that were beginning to disagree with this train of thought; particularly the Lycans and Dwarves. The Dwarves had a much harder time of blending in to human society, as they were obviously quite smaller than most; this being, they have had to take extra precautions to assure that they and their people remain isolated from human society. But the Dwarves were never a cowardly race, as he very well knew, and were beginning to consider enacting war on Noitrem and its peoples.

                                                                    In other words, things were getting rather complicated in an extremely short span of time, and it was giving Abaet a headache.

                                                                    He had entered the city unattended by any of his tribesmen, as they would, no doubt, draw unwanted attention to themselves. For now, he wandered down the streets β€” A tall stranger clad in furs and leathers β€”Β listening and learning from the bustling city as he did so; he would have to wait till nightfall until much of anything happened, as the Lycans were bound to come out then. He kept his eyes sharp, light hues dancing over the heads of most of the folk that were now making their eventual retreats back to their homes. Though he wasn't really a man of talking, he did want to speak with the Lycans before anything β€” He didn't usually like killing pointlessly, but if they showed resistance to their claims, he would have no choice.

                                                                    For now, though, he headed to the one place in town that was still open β€” And the best place to collect information. The men and the tavern were always carelessly loud, which, in the past, had always benefitted him. As he entered, his presence was not easily disregarded by the other folk; he had a distinctly savage and dangerous emanation about him, even whilst in casual settings. For now, he settled himself against one of the stools, keeping his eyes and ears as alert for any new information that would make itself available.

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                                            Try to DEFY the Beast...
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                                                      The loud ruckus of the old tavern was piping with the latest gossip of the town. Some of the Lycans, Cyelena's kind, have been acting out, murdering people in the streets at night and causing too much trouble. Thus the murders have been the popular topic of the tavern the past couple nights. It all made Cyelena’s stomach uneasy, and the noise was starting to give her a mass headache. Cye began to work away at the front counter at some stain that a drunken customer had left for her on the beer pint glass, her arm moved in a fluid speed and it was all she focused on. Tuning out the loud racket of the Tavern, Cyelena closed her eyes, back turned towards the noise..

                                                      Her hair pinned up- a loose patch of hair wafted across the back of her neck, tickling her slightly, as the door opened to the Tavern. Her ears perked up as silence grew through the room. Without looking Cyelena could sense this was a rugged and rough man for she could smell the scent of travel and the outside world on the new customer, clothing smelt of dirt and horse, a smell she recognized. Her heart skipped a beat in excitement, she turned before the quiet broke out and Cye let loose a small crooked grin. β€œGood Marrow, sir. Welcome to Pad and Pub Tavern” shortly noise erupted out yet again, the room filling up with stories and gossip of the murders. The man looked around with a grunt on his face and walked up to the counter and sat on a stool. Before he was even down Cye had a clean large pint in front of him, full of the finest ale.

                                                      Cyelena went back to scrubbing away at the glass with a hint of a small smile after looking down from the tall man. He would come in very rarely for he did not live in the town. But she always recognized him, the face that many may think rough and harsh ot even off-putting, she found the utmost intriguing. He excited her, the life he lived, traveling and fighting for what he believed in. Cye glanced up at the lad, her ice blue eyes traveling from the counter to his large muscular hand up his arm to his faceβ€”wondering to see what he was intent on.

                                                      currently : Pad and Pub Tavern, Noitrem. l theme l ooc:


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                                                      ...The ANIMAL within.

Loiterer

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                                            How can I s β„“ Ρ” Ρ” ρ at night...
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                                                      Dark, wary eyes flitted about the dispersing folk of the evening hour, both a need to speak to them, as he needed supplies, and an instinct to disappear tearing through his mind. He could not set out with just a horse β€” He had hardly anything but the clothes on his back and his mount β€” And yet, he felt that he must, for fear that most would recognize his face. What was still worse, his elder brother may have been still in town; he had not had the chance to hear much of his family while with the Lady, and there was a chance that his brother was still in town β€” In fact, this was an incredibly likely possibility, as his horse had been locked away in the stables. Something told him that he would not approve of his youngest sibling stealing his horse and running out of Noitrem.

                                                      But he was here now, and there was not much else he could do of it, lest he throw away all his own aspirations and return to the Lady β€” Which was not about to happen, if not for the selfless reason of righting his sister.

                                                      If he were to stand idly by and only think though, he would not accomplish anything, and would surely be found either by the Lady or one of his brother's allies before the night had come. Just as he was about to dart down the street, though, and towards one of the merchant's he saw that was dismantling his stock for the evening, a strong voice pulled his attention aside. His head turned, expecting to meet the eyes of a towering man, but instead his gaze fell down to what was a much shorter man than what he was expecting β€” But one that smiled in a friendly enough greeting nonetheless. He was peculiar enough β€” And if Telian would ever believe in the sort of foolish myth and tales of old, he would have thought him to be a rightly representation of a dwarf β€” But those were silly speculations, meant for children. He had abandoned those beliefs in his childhood.

                                                      He was a bit embarrassed that it was so obvious that he was out on a rather last-minute run, and caught unprepared, but he did need a sword. If this man would give it to him, he had surely some luck on his side. And the dwarf β€” Er, man β€” Was right; running around without a weapon, especially with all of what was going on in Noitrem (which, quite frankly, he had all but forgotten about in his hurry) wasn't the best of ideas.

                                                      His jaw strengthened, and he nodded, attempting to put on a strong front, and accepting his offer with only a short utterance, "Aye, I do need a blade," His voice was laced with the familiar cadence of the upper-class; the contrast between their mannerisms notable. As always, he was ever-cautious of others, and especially right now. He followed the man passed the gate, knowing that as soon as his business was done here, he was to leave. Traveling in the night was never the best idea, especially when he was journeying into unfamiliar territory β€” But if he were to linger any longer, he would surely be found.

                                                      currently : Streets and Marketplace of Noitem, with Faelon l theme l ooc: Managed a post before i left! be back later tonight~

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                                                      ...There's a Ο‰ Ξ± я inside my head.

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