Afina

Cinder Sickness - A DnD style classic RP

@knighthawk@TheWizardLizard

Good idea Wiz - Shela would be this I guess - smells like tobacco and moss.

Cinder Sickness - A DnD style classic RP

@knighthawk Good to have you back!

Cinder Sickness - A DnD style classic RP

@Invisible Man Limited dnd knowledge is perfectly fine, many here have little to none. I just use it as a very loose outline and to help people get ideas. A half ogre is perfectly acceptable. I have a cs sheet posted in the original ooc, fill it in and shoot me a pm when you are done so I can review it. ^^

Cinder Sickness - A DnD style classic RP

"I'm good," Shela retorted to the offer. Though she was short and broad in stature as well as well armored she moved quickly through the forest towards where the scream had come from. Keeping her head down, she built speed as she followed the prints in the mud from the archer that had stormed off in her undies. Slowly her eyes moved forward and up to in front of her, seeing the man that had gifted her the nice piece of ass in the distance as well as someone she had not seen before. Her trudging stopped and she slid forward in the mud a few feet before she came to a stop.

"Bloody hell, you ain't be the one that dun screamed," Shela grunted rather obviously. Taking a wide stance she gripped her hammer as she looked at the woman holding the bow that she had seen Sana point at her earlier the cave.

"What you gone and done to the loud mouth?" Shela asked in a accusatory tone of voice. She didn't know this woman, granted she only knew Sana by name so far but it was a step up from the one before her. "And whatca doing with her bow?"

Cinder Sickness - A DnD style classic RP

@Dragoknighte@Horrid@Luminosity@knighthawk@Afina@Billsomething@Melkor@Penultimate_Pi@TheWizardLizard@Warrior In The Shadows@Goldeagle1221

Whoops, I think I just stirred things up with the group, ;p

Cinder Sickness - A DnD style classic RP

The night had finally rolled in as the sun set in the east but dark clouds still rolled through the sky hiding the moon from sight; the chill in the air grew in intensity even as the winds died down. Sana tilted her head back and looked towards the leaves as a chill ran down her spine. Something was off. The cold was one thing but her burns were at least sated in their desire to cause her pain from it. There was something else in the air, something that should not have been there; something hostile. Sanas eyes narrowed as the pull in her gut began to knot, her head lowered and turned to the right and then the left as she surveyed the forest around her. It was so silent, she could not even hear the others speaking in the cave anymore. She had not wandered far enough for such a silence to invade her senses.

The snap of a twig broke the silence and her heart felt like it was ricocheting off the wall of her chest as she held her breath. Her fingers gripped her bow as she drew the string back; amber flecks flickering against the dark orbs of her eyes as they darted around. A slow breath passed through parted lips as she spun around towards the sound and took aim yet there was nothing there; nothing but a dense fog rolling in fast. Was whatever that made the sound hidden in the fog? The fog came in quickly as if it was a living and breathing thing. Sana felt helpless as tendrils whipped out from the fog, wrapping around her and sending her into a bewildered stupor. A scream ripped from her vocal cords as she dropped her bow and arrow to the mud at her feet before she was pulled deep within the fog. Suddenly the fog was gone as quickly as it had appeared, along with Sana. Nothing remained but her scream on the air, her weapon on the ground and her foot prints in the mud.

In the cave Shela leaned back on her elbow, puffing away on her pipe with an amused expression on her face hearing the weak sneeze. “Hope you wield a blade better than you sneeze,” she jested with mirth in her voice. “Well it looks like we are all just a bunch of waywards looking for a good brawl. So any of you see any action as of late? I haven’t been able to gut anything in weeks and I think me hammer is getting thirsty for blood once again.”

“Me thinks I be keeping with you all. Cinder is nasty but hunting down something on the road while ya all look could be a smashing good time! Yes, that be it! Tomorrow I trek with you, show you what a real mad woman can do. We have some grand stories to tell in no time at all,” she exclaimed as she righted herself and slapped her knee, proud of the decision that she had made. As the goblin spoke she turned her head, her teeth grinding against the wood of the pipe for a moment, never have been too fond of their kind but his short words were enough to break a grin on her features. “Drizzak fight? Must have fought something mighty to be turning gold. Soon you be worth more dead than alive with that pretty skin,” she pipped before she heard the scream rip through the cave.

“Told that woman she catch something wandering out there like that, sound like something done caught her,” she said as she pushed herself to her feet and popped her neck. “We check it out?” she said as trudged towards the edge of the cave, heavy footsteps falling against the ground as each step grew faster and she built speed. She wasn’t waiting for an answer; the chance for a battle right then was too appealing.

Afinas Bios - WIP

Name: Astra Eriksdotter (Brenna Gunnarsdotter)

Age: 23

Race: Human

Nationality: Northwoman

Height: 5’8”

Weight: 135lbs

Alignment: Chaotic Good

Appearance:

Eyes: Sea Green

Hair: Fiery Cinnamon

Skin: Pale with peach undertones and dotted with freckles

Voice: Alto voice with a slight rasp

Skills: Balance, Bluff, Climb, Jump, Listen, Ride (Land Animal), Swim, Sword, Axe, Dagger, Spear, Short Bow, Shield Combat, Shield Bash, Shield Mastery, Survival

Gods Gift: Prophecy

Armor: None Currently

Weapons: Small dagger

Possessions: Clothing on back, water skin, handful of dried rations

Personality: What her true personality is at this point no one knows. As a child she was kind, caring and soft spoken. Over the years due to her life she has become harsh and nearly cruel in her demeanor. Under the rough exterior still resides a kind heart but one that is truly guarded for survival.

History: Astra is her true name but she tells people that her name is Brenna to hide her identity. She was born the daughter of Erik Borgeson, a Northman Jarl. A kind hearted child with a sense of adventure who was the apple of her fathers eye; her mother having passed away during the birth of Astra. She lived a happy childhood and was denied nothing being the daughter of the chief but was taught early the ways of the Shieldmaiden. Her father training in the art of combat from an early age. When she was 16, her father went out with the rest of the men for a raiding party only to return to find that his village had been sacked and his daughter taken. It had been nearly 7 years that Astra has lived as a slave to a Dane Lord before she was able to escape. The years as a slave have hardened her, her back scarred with whip lash marks that are layers deep; ones she received whenever the lord felt like she had stepped out of line or just for fun.

Seeking Refuge

Killashandra watched the one who called themselves Marlona, studying the female creature before her. She had heard tales of such creatures but had never once personally run across one. Perhaps that is why they were considered legend, much like herself. Standing there in silence she listened to her seem to ramble on, thinking to herself that she must enjoy speaking to others. It seemed rather odd to her that one would be forthright with so much information and so many questions to one they just met but not everyone was like Killashandra. She found little use for words unless it was truly called for and yet then perhaps it was needed.

“Let me see if I can address all your inquiries,” Killashandra said in a thickly accent voice that was light on the wind as it pushed through the flame of her torch causing it to flicker oddly. “No, I have not been here long,” she answered first for she hadn’t. Not in the grand scheme of things, she had been there but a blink of time. “I do not know this Nyishia that you speak of,” she retorted to the question about if she was there to see the one she spoke of. “I was simply drawn here.”

“Can you assist me?” she asked as a thin light brow arched on pale skin. “I do not believe that I am in need of assistance for I have been searching for none.” Taking a shallow breath that caused her chest to rise and fall dramatically beneath the tightly cinched corseted gown that adorned her body. “Perhaps,” she began, thinking to herself before she continued. “Perhaps you can inform me what this place is.”

Your Princess Is In Another Castle

Isabella pulled the hood of her coat up and tucked her hair back beneath it as she left the castle walls and made her way into the city proper. She was tired of sitting around and waiting for word about Chritina, it was not how things should be done. She was supposed to be protected; she was supposed to be rescued. She was not supposed to have to wait for a nation to get word of whether she lived or died and pay out some ransom. That was not the way to show the strength of a nation or the resolve of the royal family. It showed weakness and passiveness, two things that the nation could not risk.

The city was bustling with activity as trade came in from all over the lands to the capital. Isabella could tell by the look in the peoples eyes that the kidnapping had been kept quiet from the general population and none of them were even aware what had happened. Though if they had known would it truly have matter to them? It did not affect them directly, there was no loss to them if Chritina was never returned or if she was. As long as trade continued and the city flourished they would be none the wiser and could care less.

For Isabella, it was not that easy. She had been Chritinas confidant since they were young, they did everything together and Isabella blamed herself for her kidnapping. Since it was her fault in her minds eye, it was her job to make sure that Chritina was returned to the safety of the castle. Further and further she pushed into the city. She ignored the Lords and Ladies with their finery, the traders trying to make a gold piece. Further she pushed into the depths and heart of the city; to the darker side where those that they spoke not of resided - The whores, the brigands, the thieves. If anyone knew anything, it would be these people. Rumors ran rampant in such areas for in areas they felt safe they felt they could brag of their escapades.

Night was drawing near and the darkest of the folk of the capital would be out in force, working in the shadows to make their next score. Isabella blended in well around these folk for she did not wear the colors of the crown and did not flaunt her position. Her attire was drab and dark like the rest and she carried herself like the skill assassin she was and not a child of privilege who had been raised behind the walls of safety the castle provided.

Pushing a stout man out of her way and shoving him into the wall she lithely moved into the Dark Tavern of Night and found a place in the corner, out of the way of the rest of the patrons that would soon visit as night claimed the city from the day. There she would wait and watch for a time, see who would enter, who would leave and what information she could remove from drunken slovenly tongues. Resting back in a chair, it squeaked softly beneath her feathers weight as she crossed her ankles beneath the table and her arms over her chest. She watched.