Tony Stark
(?)Community Member
Offline
- Posted: Thu, 03 Feb 2005 05:53:28 +0000
When has the world treated everyone fair? Ever?
In the world I have laid out for you, take a role, play it to the best of your ability and see what Lady Luck has in store for you on her game board. Yes, game board.
Do the Gods not pick and choose their champions? This is a massive game of chess is it not? The very best live, the most cunning, the strongest? No, those that have found favor in the eyes of the illustrious Lady Luck live!
Champions (Or soon to be)
Terayon - Tony Stark
Open
Open
Open
Character Creation
-Simply limited to your imagination, yet to those that have an overactive one, beware. I hold all pawns in this game, if I find your character to be either lacking or overdone, *snip* You're cut...
Name:
Race: (Basics, nothing beyond a slight Hybrid)
Physical Description: (Looks)
Mental Description: (The common thoughts)
Skills sad Do you posses any?)
Biography sad Not needed, unless you just have to tell me.)
PM all applications to me before posting on the boards!
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
The atmosphere was dull and smelled of mulled wine. Considering it was a local alehouse, what could one suspect. For the Breathless Rider was somewhat popular with those that wished to simply quench the thirst brought upon by a days ride, hence the name. Located in the harbor town of Herlath, the Breathless Rider was one of the more lower class taverns that could be considered 'nice.' The timber markings of the title swung idly with the brought upon sea winds, salt clinging to the air like ticks to a dog. The growing night would be long, for clouds gathered along the horizon.
Patrons of the sea scuttled about in attempts to strap lines to the docks, it was a common thing to do when you lived along the most ravaged coastline. The sun withered skin members of this community ignored all that they didn't recognize, it was simple and didn'tt bring about trouble for himself or herself or the traveler that passed through.
But back to the place of business from which we shall conduct. The two-story building standing against the crimson skyline, the clash of steel against ceramic could be heard from the hinges of the door. A rather curvy bard swayed between the patrons, winking along with the words she spoke. Something about the troubles faced by a town and the raiders that constantly attacked. Her tale weaving inside the minds of all that found themselves listening, most didn't appreciate music enough to care.
Lanterns adorned the walls, leaving not a corner in the dark of the approaching night. And yet, you could find those that wished to remain anonymous sitting alone at the dagger scared table. One such man happened to be watching the illustrious lady bard dance her dance or whatever it was she was dancing about. He didn't hide his hardy shaven face within the shadows of a hood, nor did he carry come elaborate staff or weapon. He was a simple man that possessed talents that were stricken against the law. Being a Jack-of-all-Trades was an interesting occupation. Dabbling in the arts of Sorcery and simple thieving, Terayon once was a farm boy, tired of cleaning stables.
And so the setting is placed, the Breathless Rider gaining more than it bargained for. The night would bring numerous perils, considering its occupants at the moment.
His grin boyish in a manner, it wasn't hard to tell that Terayon rarely had the pleasure of enjoying find music and 'company'. The ale that was served in a somewhat planned out pattern had slowly started to blur common sense and such, but that could be overlooked due the amount of blacked-out patrons dotting the floor. His hands drumming against the timber plank serving as a table, his eyes alight. The singular attendant pranced about in attempts to calm that boisterous bellows of those men and women that had one to many tankards tilted back in their favor. Her smile a forced one, she idly glanced toward the feminine bard in a jealous way. She could dance and sing her hearts content, so why not her?
From his perch in the fringes of the already bulging common room, he longed to come to terms with the feathered pillow resting oh so lonely upon his mattress only a floor above. Head jerking to the left momentarily, a potential skirmish unfolded before his green eyes. It seems, from his point of view, that a sleight of hand artist in the Halfling form has simply slipped the twine of a brutish looking half-orc and attempted to spend the barbarians' very coin? But eh, it was an assumption based on solely observation. The opponents standing chest to chin, seeing as the smaller of the two didn'tt quite reach eye level, barks of laughter only encouraged the inevitable. Terayon laughed audibly at the present standing of the green skinned warrior, for he didn't seem to see the purse-snatchers companions creeping on their tiny furred feet with daggers drawn. Devious glares erupting on either side of the Breathless Rider, if one only glanced about, the races were slimming. Few dotted the seats that hadn't already attended one or another gathering in the port towns' inn.
The obviously half-elven man that laughed simply stood in an attempt to calm the room before his night was ruined by bloodshed and the foolish attempts of men to prove themselves. "Good sirs! Calm yourselves!" Taking a pause in hopes of gaining the attention of all occupants. The muffles of profanity and ill thought out vulgarities fading almost into nothingness, Terayon seemed to hold an air of confidence about him. Nodding solemnly to the bard for her to pause in the strumming of her lute, he cleared his throat once more. "Friends, what say we to this unjust crime? Do we prosecute to the fullest, or do we let the fiend go free?" In all obviousness, the half-orcs roared for punishment to be brought forth. The half-elf simply smiled.
The eruption of words once more retracting into a blank void, he silenced the battle-hardened warriors with a wave of his gauntlet-adorned hand. "Ah, so one party has spoken. What of the defendants?" Casting his slanted eyes over the thief in question, his companions edged ever forward into the backs of the unsuspecting prosecutors. Daggers reflecting the dancing flames that gathered along the timber walls, it would be solved in a quick motion performed with an expert's grace.
The blades finding the throats of the ones out of question, they slid with ease along the jugular. Blood spurting forth as the last few words of those that let their guard down in a drunken stupor emerged into the ale soaked air. "Well, the intelligent answer has been given. Please, enjoy your nights." Taking his seat once more, the bodies that now slumped forward and backward over the oaken chairs were being brought out back for the lucky inhabitants of the wood. Calm ensuing as his trial was being presented; the original calamity started once more.
In the world I have laid out for you, take a role, play it to the best of your ability and see what Lady Luck has in store for you on her game board. Yes, game board.
Do the Gods not pick and choose their champions? This is a massive game of chess is it not? The very best live, the most cunning, the strongest? No, those that have found favor in the eyes of the illustrious Lady Luck live!
Champions (Or soon to be)
Terayon - Tony Stark
Open
Open
Open
Character Creation
-Simply limited to your imagination, yet to those that have an overactive one, beware. I hold all pawns in this game, if I find your character to be either lacking or overdone, *snip* You're cut...
Name:
Race: (Basics, nothing beyond a slight Hybrid)
Physical Description: (Looks)
Mental Description: (The common thoughts)
Skills sad Do you posses any?)
Biography sad Not needed, unless you just have to tell me.)
PM all applications to me before posting on the boards!
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
The atmosphere was dull and smelled of mulled wine. Considering it was a local alehouse, what could one suspect. For the Breathless Rider was somewhat popular with those that wished to simply quench the thirst brought upon by a days ride, hence the name. Located in the harbor town of Herlath, the Breathless Rider was one of the more lower class taverns that could be considered 'nice.' The timber markings of the title swung idly with the brought upon sea winds, salt clinging to the air like ticks to a dog. The growing night would be long, for clouds gathered along the horizon.
Patrons of the sea scuttled about in attempts to strap lines to the docks, it was a common thing to do when you lived along the most ravaged coastline. The sun withered skin members of this community ignored all that they didn't recognize, it was simple and didn'tt bring about trouble for himself or herself or the traveler that passed through.
But back to the place of business from which we shall conduct. The two-story building standing against the crimson skyline, the clash of steel against ceramic could be heard from the hinges of the door. A rather curvy bard swayed between the patrons, winking along with the words she spoke. Something about the troubles faced by a town and the raiders that constantly attacked. Her tale weaving inside the minds of all that found themselves listening, most didn't appreciate music enough to care.
Lanterns adorned the walls, leaving not a corner in the dark of the approaching night. And yet, you could find those that wished to remain anonymous sitting alone at the dagger scared table. One such man happened to be watching the illustrious lady bard dance her dance or whatever it was she was dancing about. He didn't hide his hardy shaven face within the shadows of a hood, nor did he carry come elaborate staff or weapon. He was a simple man that possessed talents that were stricken against the law. Being a Jack-of-all-Trades was an interesting occupation. Dabbling in the arts of Sorcery and simple thieving, Terayon once was a farm boy, tired of cleaning stables.
And so the setting is placed, the Breathless Rider gaining more than it bargained for. The night would bring numerous perils, considering its occupants at the moment.
His grin boyish in a manner, it wasn't hard to tell that Terayon rarely had the pleasure of enjoying find music and 'company'. The ale that was served in a somewhat planned out pattern had slowly started to blur common sense and such, but that could be overlooked due the amount of blacked-out patrons dotting the floor. His hands drumming against the timber plank serving as a table, his eyes alight. The singular attendant pranced about in attempts to calm that boisterous bellows of those men and women that had one to many tankards tilted back in their favor. Her smile a forced one, she idly glanced toward the feminine bard in a jealous way. She could dance and sing her hearts content, so why not her?
From his perch in the fringes of the already bulging common room, he longed to come to terms with the feathered pillow resting oh so lonely upon his mattress only a floor above. Head jerking to the left momentarily, a potential skirmish unfolded before his green eyes. It seems, from his point of view, that a sleight of hand artist in the Halfling form has simply slipped the twine of a brutish looking half-orc and attempted to spend the barbarians' very coin? But eh, it was an assumption based on solely observation. The opponents standing chest to chin, seeing as the smaller of the two didn'tt quite reach eye level, barks of laughter only encouraged the inevitable. Terayon laughed audibly at the present standing of the green skinned warrior, for he didn't seem to see the purse-snatchers companions creeping on their tiny furred feet with daggers drawn. Devious glares erupting on either side of the Breathless Rider, if one only glanced about, the races were slimming. Few dotted the seats that hadn't already attended one or another gathering in the port towns' inn.
The obviously half-elven man that laughed simply stood in an attempt to calm the room before his night was ruined by bloodshed and the foolish attempts of men to prove themselves. "Good sirs! Calm yourselves!" Taking a pause in hopes of gaining the attention of all occupants. The muffles of profanity and ill thought out vulgarities fading almost into nothingness, Terayon seemed to hold an air of confidence about him. Nodding solemnly to the bard for her to pause in the strumming of her lute, he cleared his throat once more. "Friends, what say we to this unjust crime? Do we prosecute to the fullest, or do we let the fiend go free?" In all obviousness, the half-orcs roared for punishment to be brought forth. The half-elf simply smiled.
The eruption of words once more retracting into a blank void, he silenced the battle-hardened warriors with a wave of his gauntlet-adorned hand. "Ah, so one party has spoken. What of the defendants?" Casting his slanted eyes over the thief in question, his companions edged ever forward into the backs of the unsuspecting prosecutors. Daggers reflecting the dancing flames that gathered along the timber walls, it would be solved in a quick motion performed with an expert's grace.
The blades finding the throats of the ones out of question, they slid with ease along the jugular. Blood spurting forth as the last few words of those that let their guard down in a drunken stupor emerged into the ale soaked air. "Well, the intelligent answer has been given. Please, enjoy your nights." Taking his seat once more, the bodies that now slumped forward and backward over the oaken chairs were being brought out back for the lucky inhabitants of the wood. Calm ensuing as his trial was being presented; the original calamity started once more.
