Of Mages and Kings : A Twokinds RP (Open, PM sheet to GMs)

 Pages 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 NEXT
 

Of Mages and Kings

A Twokinds RP

Introduction

It has been long since the events of the rebellion, the event that would change the face of the continent of Mekkan from being dominated by the Vast Human Empire and instead divide the land into a number of sovereign nations as it still exists to this day and age. The rebellion started out along the Human-Keidran borders as a simple understanding between the races that lived there, developing into a ceasefire and peace over time. However, this conflicted greatly with the policy of human superiority that the imperial rulers had attempted to ingrain into the heart of the nation. Seeing this as something that might evolve into slave uprisings and questioning of their practices, they retaliated with force, intending to spark war near the borders once more. Their plan backfired however, when the local populace both Human and Keidran alike decided that enough was enough, they had fought each other for far too long already. Eventually aided by the militaristic Basitin as well, they managed to fight back the Imperial forces who retreated to the Human Capital. The Azure Badlands, located in the path of the advancing Human-Keidran armies, feared the destruction that might be wrecked in their lands. As a result they declared themselves neutral in the conflict and renounced the imperial crown and banner, becoming what is today known as the 'Border Nations'. A big portion of their territory ceding from their rule, and with their armies battered and broken, the Empire petitioned for peace and a treaty was fashioned at the neutral ground of Lyn'Knoll. The treaty stated that the Templar order, a powerful order of magi under imperial command, would face immediate disbanding and the imperial military was to be reduced to one fourth of their current strength. In addition to this, all secessionist territory would be allowed to govern themselves, and that the territory of the Keidran and Basitin would remain theirs. Peace once again restored on Mekkan, a few years passed before various Keidran clans and ex-imperial territories formed the current republics. In the North there was the Arctic Republic, in the south the Republic of Felimarlch, and to the west there was the Republic of the Free lands where the rebellion had its origins.

The years have passed since that time, no one who still lives can say that they fought during those events. The races have grown closer in the republics, living side by side as equal individuals, free from slavery, but perhaps not entirely free from racial tension. In the border nations it is still like it has always been, numerous nations with each their own laws and views, seemingly differing every few miles, if not more often. In the Human Kingdom not much has changed, the human race is still regarded as superior, the other two kept in shackles by law and prejudice, forced to wear slave collars and being treated as the property of their betters, but even here some stand up for them, and the 'Resistance' has been busy freeing slaves as long as there have been slaves to free. And the Basitin Isles? Well, Basitin being Basitin, they are still fighting with each other, and enjoying every minute of it.

This RP is based on the world set up by the webcomic TwoKinds. You are not required to have to have previous knowledge of TwoKinds to join, but it's recommended that you take a look at it.

Character Template
(Note: The characters will be starting in the Port city of Wreathwood in the Republic of the Free lands, which is not too far from the Border nations.)

Name: (Guess what goes here.)
Race: (Human, Keidran or Basitin.)
Subspecies: (Only applicable if you're a Keidran or a Basitin. See the extra notes on different species under Keidran and Basitin.)
Age: (Self explanatory.)
Profession: (What your character does, or did prior to the RP. Anyone who wants to play as a mage, or magic user has to PM both GMs.)
Physical description: (How your character looks. Height, weight, skin/fur colouration, hair colour, eye colour, build, etc. Clothes and stuff like that also goes here.)
Weapons: (If your character begins play with any weapons you write it down here, but keep in mind that your character isn't a walking arsenal.)
Other notable equipment: (Any other equipment that is not weapons and has story significance. Like 'Medical supplies', or 'lockpicks' or whatever.)
Backstory: (Your characters past, what made your character the person s/he is today?)
Additional notes: (Optional notes about your character that don't really fit any of the aforementioned points.)

Differences in Species

The Setting

GM Sheets

Current Roster

You can bet I'm signing up for this one again.

Well, why not try again? See if this goes somewhere or someplace. Hopefully it works nicely.

Awesome, love the webcomic. I was in a Twokinds RP couple years back. But something cut me short and I had to leave. What it was I don't remember, but I've plenty of time now.

Edit: Rewrote my entire character. I didn't like the guy I made. Didn't sit well with what I like. What I have made I really do love.

[b]Edit 2: Spruced up my character at Baldrek's request. Just some polishing and obscurities cleared up. So everything should be cool.

Hi! Could I reserve a place on this? Like Mortis, I'm reading through the web comic too, so I'll hopefully provide a character sheet once I feel versed enough in the world to not screw up!

Like the folks above me, I wish to reserve a spot as well. I'm too interested in the webcomic to make a sheet right now.

EDIT: Alright, Here's my sheet. Made a few changes. Hope it's good. Still can't wait for it to start.

Hey, sorry for the repost, but I was just wondering: How many people are yall looking for?

Oooh this sounds like fun, I will give this a try since the last RP didn't last very long.

I thought I'd try to be something different from anyone else.

Is this rp dead before it started?

Grim327:
Is this rp dead before it started?

It's not going to start instantly... some people are still thinking over ideas and coming up with character sheets, myself included. A little patience goes a long way.

InkBlot Royalist:
Hi! Could I reserve a place on this? Like Mortis, I'm reading through the web comic too, so I'll hopefully provide a character sheet once I feel versed enough in the world to not screw up!

Ah, we should have probably informed about this in the opening post, but we do not accept reserves, mainly because the RP is not on a 'first come, first served' basis. We will accept sheets until our deadline of Sunday March 11th (Which may be extended, don't count on it though) upon which me and RBM will go through the submitted sheets to select players.

Also, we have not yet decided upon how many players we would like, it may be as few as five, it may be as many as twelve, we will see when we select players. But until then feel free to submit your sheets, and don't be afraid to edit them either, but the sheets we have on the day of the deadline will be considered the final product.

CounterAttack:

Grim327:
Is this rp dead before it started?

It's not going to start instantly... some people are still thinking over ideas and coming up with character sheets, myself included. A little patience goes a long way.

Ya, your right. Maybe I'm just too excited for this rp. I guess I could look over my sheet in the meantime and make some improvements.

Due to people still working on their characters, as well as a few real life happenings, RBM and I have decided to extend the previously mentioned deadline to Thursday March 15th, giving everyone a bit more time to get their characters written and submitted.

I was just wondering if it would be possible to be a magic user? I'm hoping to put a sheet up soon, so it'd be helpful to know!

Nosighter:
-Quote Redacted Due To Heresy-

Umm dude?Totally wrong RP...just sayin'

All right, here we go. My request to write a mage character has been approved by the GMs.

Athol:

Nosighter:
-Quote Redacted Due To Heresy-

Umm dude?Totally wrong RP...just sayin'

Aw, admit it. You laughed. I mean, read that thing. I bet it took a long time to copy/paste all that stuff and change the location at the end.

Greetings all! Hoping this is an acceptable character:


Hope this is acceptable! Looking forward to getting started!

EDIT: I changed the Backstory and added a couple of things to the Additional Notes.

EDIT#2 I slightly derped my character's fur/hair colour, so I've changed that (grey-brown).

Edited my character sheet, hoping its better now?

As of now the deadline has been reached and the submitted sheets have been locked in. The selection process has started.


The following sheets have been accepted for the RP. Finalized sheets and Group invitations for these people will be posted/sent out tomorrow, the RP itself will start on Friday. Thanks to all who applied.

Lambi:
-snip-

UnusualStranger:
-snip-

Mortis Nuncius:
-snip-

Grim327:
-snip-

Athol:
-snip-

CounterAttack:
-snip-

InkBlot Royalist:
-snip-

Meta_Trooper:
-snip-

The port city of Wreathwood is a sprawling urban area filled with lines upon lines of houses divided by cobbled streets and alleyways. Walls of stone more than a century old cut through the city, dividing it into rough districts and encircling its border to protect its inhabitants from outside threats. Once an important city in the Human Empire, the city used to have a Templar garrison at all times before the rebellion. And a Templar tower used to rise far above the walls, an imposing sight to remind people of who the real power in the city used to be. Nowadays however, only the ruined first floor of the tower remains, having been razed to throw off any remaining ties with the old empire. And as a result the skyline is now dominated by the few towers and church spires belonging to the resident magic academy and the clerics, as well as the countless masts of ships leaving and entering the harbor. As an important trade hub between the Republic of the Free Lands and the outside world, the city of Wreathwood receives more than its fair share of traffic and commerce, and many outdoor markets and shops of all kinds can be found within its walls.
The city is positioned at the northern end of a small gulf, making the area a natural harbor that is well shielded from rough seas and storms. A small lighthouse is positioned at the inlet to the gulf to help ships avoid the reefs close to the inlet, it is kept running by apprentice mages in an agreement between the city council and the mages guilds. But there is little else of interest close to the inlet to the gulf.
The area surrounding the city is mostly rural farmland with a few villages in between, but the high road west is a valuable trade route to the capital city, even though the perils of brigands and highwaymen are as present today as they have always been. The high road leading east first comes into contact with a smaller port city called Arroy before crossing the border into the Border Nations.

- From Lucious Askanti's, The Travelers Guide to Mekkan.

The cobblestones felt cold against Katja's feet as she walked, having only been out in the sun for the better part of an hour. It made her glad that she kept her feet wrapped up, as the cold feeling would have been even more intense without the cloth between her feet and the roughly shaped stone.
Pulling her mind away from the cold sensation, she focused her gaze on the horizon, where a few stone spires had been visible for a while now, a tell tale sign that a bigger city was just beyond the horizon. And surely enough, a few hours later she was walking up to one of the city gates. It was an imposing sight in and of itself, the walls encircling the town reaching at least 10 meters, and with two even taller towers flanking the gate. The gate itself, however, was wide open, in what seemed like a gesture of welcome.
Katja stopped and looked in suppressed awe at the massive stone structure spanning around the city, feeling terribly uneasy about entering as one of the guards near the gate shouted. "Alright people, keep moving! Don't hold up traffic!" As he motioned towards the gate with his halberd for people to get a move on.

Not wanting to be a nuisance to the local guard, Katja pulled the hood of her cloak closer around her face and followed the crowd into the city. And moments later she regretted it.
All around her there were people, so many that one could hardly walk through the main street without bumping into someone. She remembered that this was one of the main reasons she disliked cities like this, there was just too much happening all at once, she could hardly keep up with what was happening right next to her in this chaos.

Finally making her way into one of the side streets branching off from the main road to the harbor, she stopped to collect herself. She needed to find somewhere to stay for the night, but finding an inn in this mess would be harder than she thought. And to top it off, cities were terrible to navigate, everything looked the same. How the people living here managed to find their way around everyday she would never understand. Having collected her thoughts somewhat, and regained her composure, Katja set off once more into this maze of stone and timber.


Dusty looked out over the hustle and bustle of everyday life in the city, the central street going from the harbor to the west gate was chock full of people this early in the morning. There were merchants heading to the markets to peddle their goods, farmers bringing in produce from outside the walls, workers heading off to their jobs both within and outside the city, and also guards trying to keep the whole mess moving. But as for her, she was none of the above, and that probably played a large part in why she wasn't outside at this moment, instead letting the time pass by with a couple of rays of sunlight shining in on her at her vantage point from her room.

Yawning widely and stretching her arms over her head she let her thoughts wander from the numerous people just outside her window, she thought back on the last few months out on the road and realized that this bed right beside her was probably the only really comfortable place she had slept in all that time, even now it felt like it was beckoning her to lie down for 'just a few minutes more'. However, just as she was about to indulge in the almost heavenly softness of the linens there came a series of timid knocks on her door.

"Excuse me, Miss Durand, but you're going to miss the breakfast if you don't get downstairs soon." The voice of a young woman told her through the iron-bound oaken door, likely one of the proprietor's daughters that she had met last night when she purchased a room.

"Thanks! I'll be down in just a minute!" Dusty replied as she rose from the chair she had been sitting in for the previous hour or so and grabbed her overshirt from the bedpost, quickly putting it on before sitting down to put on her boots, since they were a Keidran make they didn't cover her toes, allowing for free use of her claws, but they were sometimes a pain to fasten correctly.

Fastening the final clasp she decided to leave her archery glove and her chestguard in her room, along with her weapons and her pack, they weren't exactly necessary items for getting breakfast, well not in the city anyway. Exiting her room and locking the door behind her she headed downstairs to the first floor of the inn to get some food, greeting the staff and some of the other patrons with cheerful nods as she grabbed a seat at one of the vacant tables.

The door to the inn opened with a crash to reveal a solidly built, and rather dusty, male Basitin. Steeping into the building he shook himself rather vigorously, causing a shower of fine grit to fall to the floor. "Terry you ass, I jus' cleaned tha' floor!" The innkeeper moaned. The Basitin smiled. "Sorry Bill, once every ten years does not qualify as 'just cleaned'." He shot back.

Boy it's good to be off the road. Terry thought as he made his way to a booth. He'd been working as a guard on a run to Arroy, and had just gotten into town. Winding his way through the crowded inn, the distinctive sound of someone heavily armed, made people move before they even saw him. Finding a clear table, he dropped his bag and crossbow underneath, while propping his warhammer against the edge. Placing his order with the serving girl, he sat back and scanned the crowed room, looking for one of two things.

The two things he was looking for where either recently free slaves, and Basitins. Ah there's one. He though, spying a fox Keidran who's eyes where constantly flicking around the room. The Keidran was trying to make it look like he wasn't looking at the collar Terry wore, but was failing badly. Are there any....yes. Spotting a table full of what appeared to be Basitin sailors, he lent his chair back and but his, oh horror, unwrapped feet on the table. Watching the sailors get fidgety and uncomfortable, when they saw him nearly had Terry burst out laughing.

*SNAP*

His mischief making was cut short by a twisted up bar towel being snapped at the sole of his foot. "Get yer filth paws off my damn table!" Bill swore, re-twisting the towel for another shot. "OW! Ah geez I'm sorry!" Terry yelped, pulling his feet down and rubbing the pad. Terry's plans for revenge against his friend where immediately derailed by the arrival of food and drink.

Light steps of leather boots were easily drowned out by the hustle and bustle of the multitudes in the markets of Wreathwood. A petite, black-haired woman cut a path through the crowds, weaving her way through the small gaps between people until she suddenly found herself standing in the open, away from the masses. The figure noticed that she was in a fairly large gap between two stalls, beyond which lay an open path away from the markets. It was free of people, for the most part.

The diminutive person was never really a fan of places where a large number of merchants got together and tried to entice potential customers into parting with their money. Lots of yelling, people jostling one another for positions, and potential for pickpockets to sneak away with someone's purse. She began to head away from the markets at a pace slightly faster than a walk, intending to find a nice quiet spot down near the harbour to spend some time more or less alone for a while.

A few minutes later she was seated on a bench in the harbour itself, near one of the few unclaimed docks. Hazel Katriana took the time to just sit and let the ocean's breeze gently play with her hair, as she gazed outwards to the waters beyond. She often came down to Wreathwood's harbour in the mornings, to collect her thoughts and prepare for the day ahead of her. It was quite peaceful when she wasn't disturbed, a welcome break from the chaotic nature of a city such as this one.

In the past few days, she had once again returned to Wreathwood, secured a room at her preferred inn and begun her usual routine of going out and asking people if they had any short-term work for her. There had been a few things to do, but none of them brought Hazel any closer to finding her goals. The city's Academy had been kind to her when she visited, but as usual she hadn't found anyone there with both the skills she wanted to learn and the time to take her on as a student...

But once she had learned more, what would she do? Hazel didn't have an answer to that question yet. She sometimes felt that she was lacking direction. She needed something to keep her going. Advancing in her talents of choice wasn't the end goal: it was only the beginning. She had to put her abilities to good use.

For now, she set those questions aside. Instead of burdening herself with familiar topics which she had yet to answer, Hazel tried to relax, enjoying the scent of the ocean and the breath of the wind on her skin.

The rolling ocean was of some comfort to the Basitin ashe sat near the docks, simply biding his time for the moment. The sound of the oceans, and the slight breeze as it went around him was a little more chilll than he liked, but he had done his best to get more used to colder climates, especially since sometimes a target thought knowing the assassin was Basitin would mean going to snow would keep them safe.

Leaning against the anchor post for the time being Victor decided to close his eyes for a moment. While the peace was somewhat appreciated, and possibly a good change after the long mess the last mission had given him where he had to not only chase down the target but kill several guards along the way. However, the money he had gotten coming here was a good enough payment for the mess, and he was taking it easy for a while, and letting the stories play their part.

However, the longer he stayed at this city, the more he became attuned to what it once was. It was a former fortress, a place of Templars and battle and probably more. The burning down of the tower may have taken care of the most obvious sign, but that didn't mean that the people and town itself forget them so easily, especially when the first floor was still there.

And all these damn merchants, thinking that I'll work for next to nothing to track down a bit of stolen merchandise. "Available" does not mean "free labor" you greedy bastards.

Rising from where he sat, he decided his restlessness could be calmed slightly by at least walking the docks. Perhaps he would get lucky and find something, or perhaps find something someone left behind for his own uses. Either would be a bit more favorable than the nothing this city seemed to like offering him.

"Alright boys! Let's get this ship ready to set sail!" the captain of the ship Chris was working on yelled. "We only have until nightfall to get the ship ready, so move your asses!" He yelled again. After Chris was finished moving barrels and crates from the docks onto the ship, he started tightening ropes and making sure everything was battened down. Once that was finished, Chris headed to the captain to tell him his work was done, and that he was heading off.

The captain was hulking man with simple garbs on and a corn-cob pipe in his mouth. He was a good captain, who cared about his crew, and overall had a big heart. Chris liked him and was glad that he went on a voyage with him. As Chris walked up to him, he could see the captain pointing and barking orders.

"Hey Captain, my job's done here, I'm going to go and head off on my own."

"Alright, boy. It's been great working with you on board. Maybe our paths will cross again sometime in the future," the captain replied.

"Maybe so. Well, it's been real captain."

"Take care Chris." And with that Chris was heading off, "Oh, Chris! Don't forget your pay!" The captain yelled, pulling out a small pouch of coin and tossing it toward Chris. Chris turned around and caught it. "Thanks captain." Chris headed off the boat and to the marketplace to buy a few things. After that, he went to the inn he was staying at. Chris was bumping into people left and right on the way there, and he started to remember how nice it was when he would camp in the woods and sleep under the stars, but he needed coin if he was going to keep up with supplies, which is what brought him to Wreathwood today. Once he finally made it to the inn, he felt relieved to be back, and able to sleep in a warm bed. He opened the door to the inn and walked in. People were sitting at tables, playing card games, and drinking out of their mugs. He saw a few keidran slaves, but that was the only thing was possibly out of place; everything else looked normal. He walked by the front desk, said hello to the woman behind it, and went to his room. He opened the door, set his recently-bought supplies down next to his bow and quiver, took his boots off, and fell face first onto the bed, and quickly nodded off to sleep.

Arryn was in awe at everything that was happening in the city. This was her first time in a city, after all. All the different people, all these places she had no idea what were. Though it wasn't easy to find someone who could help her get around the place. Because she only knew Keidran, some people just pointed her away, though she still managed to find people who were helpful enough. If only because they could understand her.

She had been stopped at the gate for wanting to just walk into the city without clothes on. How was she supposed to know it wasn't acceptable everywhere to be in the nude? Grumbling and mumbling, she had put on her pants and sweater and been allowed inside, though not without a few stares before she had put on her clothes from bystanders who were either eyeing her for her looks or just looking in shock because they would think others could show decency.

Today seemed to be a bit hot, but there was still a cooling wind in the air. She took her time walking around so she could soak in the sights. She didn't want to miss a thing, but she couldn't see anything. Luckily, if someone would try to pickpocket her, they wouldn't find anything, because she kept her bow and arrows fastened tightly on her, at least tightly enough to not hurt her, but not so loose that it could be taken off easily, and she kept a paw on her sheathed sword. As for her necklace, no one saw it, so she knew it was safe.

The ocean nearby fascinated her. "[So much water. And where does it all come from, anyway?]" she asked herself out loud in Keidran, with no answer to that question. She went down on all four to look at the water closer. And promptly got a face full of salt water. "[Bleh! This water doesn't taste good!]" She shook her head to dry off as much as she could and got away from the ocean and into Wreathwood again.

The river just south of South Leighton was a river Alistair has become quite partial to; especially during the spawning runs where, if fortune favored him, he'd catch plenty of egg-filled fish. Atop a boulder along the western bank of the river sat the mage, his reel and rod nestled between his knees as he was scrawling in the journal he kept. Though he may have put attention towards his writings, he hadn't turned all attention from the other task at hand. On occasion the fishing rod would bob and bend, in which case Alistair would stay his writing hand and focus on the rod. Too many times he recalls nearly losing his fishing rod on account of misplaced attention, but he has yet to let it drop into the river and be carried off by the catch or current. His right hand had the book steadied while his left darted back and forth across the pages, using the quill to mark down a list of ingredients; the list nestling between lines of scrawl describing in full detail the features of a rock he found with markings strikingly similar to those of his favorite beetle. Even though there were many blank pages in his journal, he felt it would be a waste not to use every available space on one before moving onto another. Many times he struggled to keep a thought on one page, and found himself needing to wrap his writing around the fringes of the paper.

As Alistair was turning the journal to the side to continue his list, a large trout saw fit to bite his fishing lure and make a mad dash with its prize. The fishing rod slipped past the mage's knees and flew towards the river, forcing the mage to drop his journal and quill into his lap to catch the rod before it fell. This motion caused him to bump the bottle of ink that was set beside him and knock it off the boulder, then onto the rocks below where it shattered, spilling its contents which were soon washed downstream.

"Blast," he muttered softly. "The damned thing was nearly half-full." He pulled the fishing rod and turned the reel, vying to catch the bringer of his ink bottle's end, ultimately ensuring that justice would be done. Perhaps he let his frustration get the better of him; perhaps the fish was stronger or the line was weaker than first thought to be; perhaps even a combination of those factors were the cause of what was to come. Regardless of the cause may have been, Alistair gave the fishing rod a great tug and the line snapped. The breaking of the tether between the man and the fish caused the man to reel backwards and tumble off his perch. He called out again as his sudden plummet both surprised and frusterated him, "Blast!"

Alistair landed in a heap at the rear of the boulder with his fishing rod and journal beside him. After picking himself up and dusting himself off, retrieving and pocketing his journal, he proceeded to examine the tearing of the line. "Took no more than a few inches of line," he said to himself, "but robbed me of my lure." He examined the place where the bottle of ink fell, but found nothing more than a small pool of dark water and shards of glass. Sighing in resentment and wishing he had secured the bottle better, he decided he should make his way over to Wreathwood. Although South Leighton was considerably closer, he never really felt welcome in the settlement after the incident at the inn he accidentally filled with nauseating fumes from one of his experiments years before. Collecting his satchel and resting his fishing rod on his shoulder, he set off westward into the woods, towards home and Wreathwood.

Namar Crell sat quietly next to the open window in his second floor room at an Inn near the docks, he'd been reading for several hours and the room had been getting steadily smaller for a while now, no matter how much he read though, no book had the answers he was after, perhaps he was looking at it from the wrong angle?

A knock at the door caught Namar's attention and he looked up as a rather scruffy looking man walked in, he was nervous, it was written all over him, and soon enough Namar could smell it too.

"Uh, i was s-sent with the money for y-your job by Mr. Carson..." He was shaking as he held up a bag of coins, Namar simply stared at him for a few moments before turning back to his book.

"The Item is on the table beside you, leave the moeny there, tell your boss that next time he tries to skip the payment by having me killed he'll be the one going six feet under." He said it with a straight face, not a hint of anger or even malice, you could even say Namar found it uninteresting, He didn't watch the man pick up the object and drop off the money, he just continued reading, the messenger left and he never bothered to check the amount he'd been given, after all, if they didn't give him enough, he'd just have to go collect the rest.

After about another hour or so of reading he finally closed the book he was reading, there wasn't anything in that one either, so he picked up and put on his red cloak which was hung on the back of the door and left, leaving his entire payment behind, he walked down the stairs and through the bar, it was somewhat busy and he got a few stares from customers familiar with him, but it didn't bother Namar, as long as they didn't annoy him they were insignificant, as he stepped outside he looked upward at the sun, taking it in for a few minutes before heading onward to the library to get some more books, and maybe get someone to collect the others.

Borta followed the crowd. He had no real idea where he was going, but the stream, or raging river as the case may be, of people around him seemed to, so he went with it. The sounds of life filled his ears as he strolled down the cobbles streets, feeling their re-assuring coldness and the cosyness of the close street walls. Unlike most of his kind, Borta loved cities. He loved the way they pressed around you, close and certain. In the forests and tundra's of his homeland there was little other than an ocean of snow, coating the ground as far as the eye could see. But in the cities, as far as the eye could see was generally ten meters. Borta liked that, it helped focus him.

This city was somewhat of a rarity for him however, as it was one of the few he'd never stopped at before. Borta sighed. He could remember when he'd first seen a map of the continent, and had marveled at the names of all the tiny places and vast cities, little more than dots on a parchment. He'd felt like an explorer simply visiting them, experianceing local customs and ways for the first time, the thrill of gazing at a fresh landscape and a new place to call home, for however long...
Borta hummed a few bars of "And I shall tred the earth" quietly to himself. He missed that feeling. But age and experiance were a harsh combination on the pleasures of naivety and youth. At least he still had his memories though.

The tide of people seamed to be thining, and Borta found himself infront of an inn. He stopped outside its door and looked at it. It seemed to be a block standard "red meat and mead" fare. Perfect.

The pressing grip of people seemed to have released him too, and once he heard his stomach growl he decided this was the place he should be tonight. Opening the door he found the place suprisingly full, the serving maids bustling around with trays of food and drink, and the patrons seemed good natured enough, as it was too early in the day to get rageing drunk. He crossed the room towards the bar and waited patiently for the landlord to come to him.

"Wha k'n I do for ya?" He asked, loudly and slowly. Most people seemed to speak to him this way. He didn't see the point, if he didn't speak human, he'd be talking to another Keidran.

"I would like a room for the night." He replied, over-articulating each word. He smiled as the man raised his eyebrows in suprise

"Yur in luck! We've got a couple lef. Ain very big mind..."

"That will be..." he searched for a word. Ah. "adequate. My thankses" He caught himself. Damn. That'd teach him for showing off.

After depositing his surpluss equipment, chainmail, mace and lute (which he lay reverently on a chair facing his bed), he returned downstairs. Glancing around he found to his annoyance that most tables were taken. Over in the corner, however, was one with a single occupant. A huge Bastilin was tucking into a suitably sized breakfast. Borta considered this, then the colosal warhammer propped against his chair. He shrugged to himself. Why not?

Walking calmly across the room he walked up to the Bastin, who he assumed was a warrior of some kind, and smiled

{Mind if join you I, friend?} he asked calmly in its own tongue

"{Mind if join you I, friend?}"

Terry looked up from his meal as the Keidran spoke. "{Please be sit.}" He replied, motioning to a vacant seat. With a rueful shake of his head he switched to Keidran "[Although perhaps it's best we converse in a more familiar language. I am not as familiar with my mother tongue as one would expect.]" Taking another bite of his meal, he smiled and shook the Wolf's hand. "[My name is Terrance, or Terry if you prefer. So my friend, what brings you to Wreathwood?]"

 Pages 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 NEXT

Reply to Thread

This thread is locked