Antediluvixen

Blades of Iron Roses: A fantasy Knight RP

@Raineh Daze

Wood isn't all that weak.

Blades of Iron Roses: A fantasy Knight RP

@Raineh Daze

What about pikes?

Ianus Congreatio: Secret societies, horror, and mystery in the shadows of Prague.

Aleksandra charged through the sewers after her target - the young man who had decided it was a good idea to try to escape the two of them combined. She called out mockingly to him in English, hoping he would understand a little of it, “Come here little boy! I promise I won’t break too many bones if you don’t make me chase you through all of Prague’s sewers!” Sewage splashed up onto her legs as she stormed through it, coating them in a stench she’d rather not deal with.

She grumbled internally to herself. She could catch him if she wanted, but the little Bohemian princess had wanted to catch him herself and hopefully scare him enough to talk. As it was, she was a bit too close for that at the moment, only a couple of feet behind him - she could tell by the sound of his breathing that he knew he wouldn’t be able to evade her at this rate. She let off some speed, letting the little bastard think she was tiring. Now, if the little princess wou-

Something in the muck snagged at her boot, sending her sprawling in the filth of the sewers. She kicked violently at it, realizing after the offending object went sailing into the wall of the sewer that it was an abnormally large rat corpse. Disturbingly large. Nightmarishly large, in fact. She dragged herself up, chest, face, arms, hands, legs, all of it was completely covered in a reeking mixture of feces, urine, rotten food, and other… even less pleasant things. She would’ve retched at the truly horrific smell, but rage held her stomach under control - right up until she felt some of the putrescent mixture seeping through her clothes to… places.

She heaved reflexively, splattering the wall next to her with her breakfast and lunch. The little shit was getting away, but her stomach wasn’t letting her move for the precious few seconds it took to empty.

Wiping her mouth out of habit, her eyes widened as she realized what she’d just done - barely managing to repress another surge of vomit, she spat, clawing her gun out of its holster as she forced herself to move through the sludge in a fury induced charge.

She rounded the corner, haphazardly waving the pistol and her sword as she howled insults in his general direction, having forgotten to use English. “Ёб твою мать, собака!” She caught a glimpse of him, bringing her gun to bear and firing off a shot that grazed his shoulder and little else before he turned another corner with her hot on his heels.

As she pursued him around the final corner she saw up ahead the blockage in the wall, grinning savagely. Now she’d have him all to herself. “Иди сюда! Щас по ебалу получишь, сука блять!” She sped up, only noticing Lucie through the red haze when she was a couple meters away.

She looked her dead in the eye, growling, “Дайте мне его.” She dug through her pockets, pulling out a small vial, holding it maliciously as she advanced on him.

(Translations:
“Ёб твою мать, собака!” = “Fuck your mother, you dog!”
“Иди сюда! Щас по ебалу получишь, сука блять!” = "Come here! Now I’ll fucking kill you, bitch motherfucker!"
“Дайте мне его.” = “Give it to me.”)

Blades of Iron Roses: A fantasy Knight RP

@AtomicNut

Blade Runneeeeeeeeeeeer

Blades of Iron Roses: A fantasy Knight RP

Tarrya rode sullenly alongside Garrett. She had never been comfortable in the saddle - despite being taught the basics of riding growing up she had never taken a liking to horses, or saddle sores for that matter. Even as a lieutenant of the company, when nobody would’ve looked twice had she taken a captured warhorse or two for her own use, she had preferred to fight and command on foot, sacrificing the mobility and height advantage for the security provided by her own two legs. Not that she would be commanding anyone anytime soon - this order had ridiculous notions about eligibility or command, just as bad to choose a young girl for her time of birth as to choose a young man for his family connections. As it was, the horse she currently rode was a far cry from the impressive steeds she had sold after the occasional capture of a knight, she was hardly a massive weight, even with her armor, but the beast seemed to lag behind the other horses all the same, struggling with her weight. He didn’t have much longer, she reckoned.

Branches seemed to mock her as they poked her in the face, just how they would do so she was unsure - but she had never been fond of thick forests. Too many friends had met their end in an ambush from thick woods before. Of course, the commanders of this little detachment would probably not even factor that in - and so far she hadn’t seen the faintest hint of a scouting party sent out to reconnoiter the area. It was almost as if there was an untrained sixteen year old in command, or something preposterous like that.

She kicked the spurs of her horse, urging the animal on again to catch up with Garrett. He seemed to be joining a few of the other knights in a small little circle, probably discussing tactics. She smirked to herself, overhearing a small fragment of conversation - at least the girl seemed to realize charging in bellowing was a poor course of action. Maybe with some experience she would turn out competent after all; only time would tell however, and no amount of heavy armor would save them from any poor decisions she made now.

And still no sign of any attempt at recon- she perked up, one of the knights had actually suggested sending out scouts! Incredible! Perhaps more than a handful nobles knew basic tactics? Most of them didn’t, in her experience, but this woman made her hopeful. She knew the woman would likely not notice her - after all, she was simply a commoner to them, beneath their notice. Unlanded nobility were not exactly the most prestigious members of society, and she had been adventuring with a mercenary company for the better part of a decade. In all likelihood, this woman would likely consider her simple common dirt to be ignored. Nonetheless her scowl softened, almost approaching a faint smile, and she nodded towards the woman, clearly wanting to offer her own input but remaining silent.

Blades of Iron Roses: A fantasy Knight RP

And CS posted. Time to start writing intro.

Blades of Iron Roses: A fantasy Knight RP

Tarrya Khoroushi

Name: Tarrya Khoroushi
Age: 27
Gender: Female
Race: Human

Appearance:

Tarrya is no dainty damsel, though not of towering height by any means, standing at a solid five feet four inches, every one of those inches is packed with lean muscle, giving her physique a hard edge. Her figure has less of the more delicate curves one might expect of a woman and she weighs well over a hundred and forty pounds - had she lived life in luxury like some, perhaps she too would have the luscious figure of other women , but a life of hard living and harder fighting has tempered her body to hard steel, with a set of sapphire eyes of similar hardness to the resilient gemstone. Her skin is smooth and of a darkish olive hue, taking after her mother; however, it is marred by scarring in many places - most notably an ugly looking cut on her neck that narrowly missed her jugular - she survived, but barely, and her gear now includes a chain coif of the highest quality to prevent a repeat event. She favors heavy duty armor capable of taking several beatings if necessary, and has a personal set of mail backed brigandine, pictured below.

Pikatures

Personality: Tarrya has two personalities, one for the battlefield and one for... well, anything not the battlefield. On the battlefield she has no sense of humor and knows no mercy, expecting none in return. She speaks in a voice used to shouting over the din of war and has no tolerance for inefficiency. Out of her armor however, is a different matter altogether. She was raised by a scholarly mother, and like mother, like daughter. She spends her free time reading, usually. At odds with her battlefield persona, she's generally shy and reserved, happier spending her time in the pages of a book than carousing and drinking. That is not to say she avoids other people altogether, and a good, thought provoking conversation is as good as any book to her.

Brief Backstory:
Name a people under the sun, and Tarrya has probably fought some of them. In truth, any mercenary as well traveled as she could make this claim, but Tarrya has knowledge of the world to back it up.

Raised as a member of the low nobility - and destitute nobility at that, Tarrya originally never dreamed of making war her profession. Instead, she buried her nose in dusty tomes of ancient lore and modern science. She dreamed of unraveling the mysteries of the universe, and aimed to become a scholar and scientist, not only learning all that she could from others, but pushing the boundaries of mortal understanding further, to invent new and amazing devices. Even as she read and studied, she trained with the blade - more as a formality than anything else, but it was an enjoyable sport to her, and good excercise.

Unfortunately, the universe did not have the same purpose in mind for her that she did. To enroll at one of the great universities of the land took money, and money was something they had precious little of. Still enough to send her though, if just barely. That all changed one day, as her family lost most of what little money they did have and became peasants in all but name. Her dreams crushed, Tarrya wasted little time in moping, searching around for other paths in life to take.

Throughout her late night binge readings and general bookish life, Tarrya had read the autobiographies of adventurers and mercenaries, losing herself for a time in great battles and letting her wanderlust run wild through the pages. These stories came back to her at this time, and she resolved to join a mercenary company herself and achieve fame.

Her parents forbade it.

Undeterred, she stole away in the night about a week after, taking a small amount of gold with her to purchase arms and armor. She joined up with a smaller company in the area, and spent a year wiping out brigands and other dregs of society, steadily growing more experienced and skilled. She rose through the ranks surprisingly rapidly, eventually becoming a top lieutenant of the company, which by then had grown to become a sizeable force.

Her downfall came when, patrolling around a village, a group of bandits had crept in and murdered some villagers, taking the rest as hostages. Tarrya and a small contingent of crossbowmen and sergeants were the only force in the area, and they immediately rushed to the village’s aid. However, Tarrya’s many years of seeing death and devastation had hardened her heart and made her into a callous woman. When negotiations failed she simply ordered her crossbowmen to kill the bandits, regardless of how many villagers died. To “teach the bastards a lesson that hostages won’t work on us” as she had said.

She was stripped of her rank and arrested for the action. While she saw it as perfectly justifiable, others did not. In order to avoid harsher punishment, Tarrya promised to atone for her crime, joining the Blades of Iron Roses to defend the weak.

Or at least that was the line she fed them. In truth Tarrya didn’t care, the murder of the villagers was regrettable, but she felt no guilt in her heart. Nonetheless, she joined the Order as the retainer of one of the knights, accompanying him into battle and other duties. Nobody had informed her, however, that the new leader of the Order was an sixteen year old girl.

Equipment:

Heavy Brigandine Armor and Helmet (As seen in appearance section): What it looks like on the tin, a heavy duty set of sturdy brigandine armor consisting of tough layered steel plates riveted together and sandwiched between hardened leather - essentially forming a cuirass, albeit far cheaper and easier to create. The armor is incredibly durable, having saved her hide on more than one occasion from axe, sword, and mace blows that surely would’ve been her undoing otherwise. The armor is worn over mail and a padded gambeson.

Lucerne Hammer: A lethal weapon, spanning about three feet in length. Its primary function is as an anti-cavalry weapon, but is just as effective as a can opener, the brutal spike at the end equally useful for dragging an armored horseman off his mount as it is punching through his plate once off said horse.

Langes Messer: A brutal weapon with a self evident singular purpose - cleaving through as much flesh as possible. A strong blade, keen edge, and good quality steel ensure that this weapon will do exactly that.

Rondel Dagger: A weapon of last resort for armored fighting, when grappling with a knight, a quick thrust through his visor with the dagger is a surefire way of ending the confrontation.

Skills:
Weapon Master: Tarrya has been fighting for years, almost all of those fights to the death. She’s still alive. Her experience with all manner of weapons is nothing to shake a stick at, but give her a hefty sword or hammer and she has nary an equal, or at least, equals are a rare sight, and an unwelcome one if an enemy.
Leadership: Tarrya spent two years as a lieutenant in a prestigious mercenary company. Such a posting does not come easily, and in mercenary work there is no room for nepotism. She has thus acquired a good handle on commanding troops in the tactical sense, able to rally a second wind in exhausted soldiers and sense the opportune moment in a battle.
Sixth Sense: Years of fighting for a living have honed Tarrya’s awareness of her surroundings to a razor keen edge. It’s not quite a true sixth sense, but she’s highly unlikely to be caught by surprise by that angry infantryman with the nasty looking axe.

Blades of Iron Roses: A fantasy Knight RP

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaand a CS!

Tarrya Khoroushi

Name: Tarrya Khoroushi
Age: 27
Gender: Female
Race: Human

Appearance:

Tarrya is no dainty damsel, though not of towering height by any means, standing at a solid five feet four inches, every one of those inches is packed with lean muscle, giving her physique a hard edge. Her figure has less of the more delicate curves one might expect of a woman and she weighs well over a hundred and forty pounds - had she lived life in luxury like some, perhaps she too would have the luscious figure of other women , but a life of hard living and harder fighting has tempered her body to hard steel, with a set of sapphire eyes of similar hardness to the resilient gemstone. Her skin is smooth and of a darkish olive hue, taking after her mother; however, it is marred by scarring in many places - most notably an ugly looking cut on her neck that narrowly missed her jugular - she survived, but barely, and her gear now includes a chain coif of the highest quality to prevent a repeat event. She favors heavy duty armor capable of taking several beatings if necessary, and has a personal set of mail backed brigandine, pictured below.

Pikatures

Personality: Tarrya has two personalities, one for the battlefield and one for... well, anything not the battlefield. On the battlefield she has no sense of humor and knows no mercy, expecting none in return. She speaks in a voice used to shouting over the din of war and has no tolerance for inefficiency. Out of her armor however, is a different matter altogether. She was raised by a scholarly mother, and like mother, like daughter. She spends her free time reading, usually. At odds with her battlefield persona, she's generally shy and reserved, happier spending her time in the pages of a book than carousing and drinking. That is not to say she avoids other people altogether, and a good, thought provoking conversation is as good as any book to her.

Brief Backstory:
Name a people under the sun, and Tarrya has probably fought some of them. In truth, any mercenary as well traveled as she could make this claim, but Tarrya has knowledge of the world to back it up.

Raised as a member of the low nobility - and destitute nobility at that, Tarrya originally never dreamed of making war her profession. Instead, she buried her nose in dusty tomes of ancient lore and modern science. She dreamed of unraveling the mysteries of the universe, and aimed to become a scholar and scientist, not only learning all that she could from others, but pushing the boundaries of mortal understanding further, to invent new and amazing devices. Even as she read and studied, she trained with the blade - more as a formality than anything else, but it was an enjoyable sport to her, and good excercise.

Unfortunately, the universe did not have the same purpose in mind for her that she did. To enroll at one of the great universities of the land took money, and money was something they had precious little of. Still enough to send her though, if just barely. That all changed one day, as her family lost most of what little money they did have and became peasants in all but name. Her dreams crushed, Tarrya wasted little time in moping, searching around for other paths in life to take.

Throughout her late night binge readings and general bookish life, Tarrya had read the autobiographies of adventurers and mercenaries, losing herself for a time in great battles and letting her wanderlust run wild through the pages. These stories came back to her at this time, and she resolved to join a mercenary company herself and achieve fame.

Her parents forbade it.

Undeterred, she stole away in the night about a week after, taking a small amount of gold with her to purchase arms and armor. She joined up with a smaller company in the area, and spent a year wiping out brigands and other dregs of society, steadily growing more experienced and skilled. She rose through the ranks surprisingly rapidly, eventually becoming a top lieutenant of the company, which by then had grown to become a sizeable force.

Her downfall came when, patrolling around a village, a group of bandits had crept in and murdered some villagers, taking the rest as hostages. Tarrya and a small contingent of crossbowmen and sergeants were the only force in the area, and they immediately rushed to the village’s aid. However, Tarrya’s many years of seeing death and devastation had hardened her heart and made her into a callous woman. When negotiations failed she simply ordered her crossbowmen to kill the bandits, regardless of how many villagers died. To “teach the bastards a lesson that hostages won’t work on us” as she had said.

She was stripped of her rank and arrested for the action. While she saw it as perfectly justifiable, others did not. In order to avoid harsher punishment, Tarrya promised to atone for her crime, joining the Blades of Iron Roses to defend the weak.

Or at least that was the line she fed them. In truth Tarrya didn’t care, the murder of the villagers was regrettable, but she felt no guilt in her heart. Nonetheless, she joined the Order as the retainer of one of the knights, accompanying him into battle and other duties. Nobody had informed her, however, that the new leader of the Order was an sixteen year old girl.

Equipment:

Heavy Brigandine Armor and Helmet (As seen in appearance section): What it looks like on the tin, a heavy duty set of sturdy brigandine armor consisting of tough layered steel plates riveted together and sandwiched between hardened leather - essentially forming a cuirass, albeit far cheaper and easier to create. The armor is incredibly durable, having saved her hide on more than one occasion from axe, sword, and mace blows that surely would’ve been her undoing otherwise. The armor is worn over mail and a padded gambeson.

Lucerne Hammer: A lethal weapon, spanning about three feet in length. Its primary function is as an anti-cavalry weapon, but is just as effective as a can opener, the brutal spike at the end equally useful for dragging an armored horseman off his mount as it is punching through his plate once off said horse.

Langes Messer: A brutal weapon with a self evident singular purpose - cleaving through as much flesh as possible. A strong blade, keen edge, and good quality steel ensure that this weapon will do exactly that.

Rondel Dagger: A weapon of last resort for armored fighting, when grappling with a knight, a quick thrust through his visor with the dagger is a surefire way of ending the confrontation.

Skills:
Weapon Master: Tarrya has been fighting for years, almost all of those fights to the death. She’s still alive. Her experience with all manner of weapons is nothing to shake a stick at, but give her a hefty sword or hammer and she has nary an equal, or at least, equals are a rare sight, and an unwelcome one if an enemy.
Leadership: Tarrya spent two years as a lieutenant in a prestigious mercenary company. Such a posting does not come easily, and in mercenary work there is no room for nepotism. She has thus acquired a good handle on commanding troops in the tactical sense, able to rally a second wind in exhausted soldiers and sense the opportune moment in a battle.
Sixth Sense: Years of fighting for a living have honed Tarrya’s awareness of her surroundings to a razor keen edge. It’s not quite a true sixth sense, but she’s highly unlikely to be caught by surprise by that angry infantryman with the nasty looking axe.

Blades of Iron Roses: A fantasy Knight RP

@VitaVitaAR

We're off to kill some bandits, some dastardly bandits of Thaln!

Blades of Iron Roses: A fantasy Knight RP

Don't worry, y'all will get plenty of cynicism to counterbalance the cute regardless :P

As a side note, almost done with CS!