Sounds like a really interesting setting. This will be my first RP in a while, but I will make a pilot.
Barioth Member
probably can't read
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In
The Dragon Dance - A Dark Fairy Tale Fantasy (High-Casual/Always Open)
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10 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
Europa Wilderness, the road to Alexandria
The cold breath of winter found its way weaving across the land into the hood of a cloaked traveler. The traveler felt the nipping wind bite at his face as it burrowed its' way down his neck to his toes and shivered softly as he snapped the reins with a short flick of his wrists. Slowly the beaten carriage crawled along the well-worn path, an old carriage road situated precariously next to a drop off and a steeply sloped hill. Located at the bottom of the hill was a well visible lake, frozen partly in a visually appealing jagged-like pattern, like the jaws of some great beast. Parting his gaze from the lake, the traveler looked ahead of him to see the thin pass begin to widen into a wider, stone cobble road. He was but a few days from the city and he could already hear in the distance the commotion of people and the noises of majestic creatures. A soft laugh escaped his lips, his breath like a puff of smoke in the cool air. It had been a long while since he had begun his journey and it amused him to think that there was still even more for him to see, and such an event as a royal wedding would undoubtedly hold lucrative business opportunities for him to hold of. The varied wares and trinkets he had acquired over his travels would hopefully sell to the myriad of consumers in Alexandria, though, it was definite there would be fierce trade competition within the streets and he knew that he needed connections as soon as he arrived as well as an enforcer or bodyguard of some type. To set up shop in such a big stage without friends or protection was an amateur move and such actions were only ways to lose money.
Outside Dragon Keep, Marketplace
After the long debacle of navigating his carriage through the heavily packed streets for hours, Orpheus had finally situated himself comfortably in a marketplace within sight of Dragon Keep. The structure was towering and held a certain depressing visage over the lower people, or at least that is what Orpheus saw, not the common opinion of the people standing around him, ogling the majestic features of the building. All he could imagine was the backs of the common people it was built on when he observed the structure, and looking around him, they all seemed oblivious to their backs being used. With a sigh Orpheus returned back to what he had been doing before he had been distracted by his ideals, something he found distracted him more than often.
After conversing with a wide amount of merchants traders, Orpheus began to hear about some kind of bard competition within the Keep. An interesting idea, and there could be things to be gained from joining such a contest. Should he join and place well, he would have the chance to have his name known throughout some areas of the city. Having a name was a double edged blade, there came influence and bigger opportunities, but there was also higher risk involved. Misfortunes were common in these times and envy and greed had seen many along his travels to meet these stripes of bad luck. Though risky Orpheus decided he did not come to this city to lurk around as a market rat this time as he had done so far up until he had arrived in Alexandria, he would use his time here to seek his ambitions and take risks.
He took time to barter with the other stands near him and get to know the flow of gold within the city. A polite face and well-kept manners were enough to squeeze information on the more skilled producers of goods in the city from the more naive traders, but it required a little bit of gold from Orpheus’s own pocket to learn the markets from the older more grizzled merchants. He visited various places after locking down his carriage and paying off a less than ambitious fruit stand owner to watch his wares in his absence. One of his first destinations was the blacksmiths’ forges, an already crowded destination by many all seeking to place orders from the metal workers. This day, orpheus was satisfied in merely introducing himself to the smiths and getting to know their skill levels and quality of their work.
Orpheus leaned back in his stool against a barrel behind the table of his market stand and sighed, usually these times behind his own stand were the only brief moments of true relaxation he ever got, and even then it wasn’t complete rest. He kept a sharp eye open on his wares as he relaxed, making sure no open handed thieves took advantage of his relaxing. His wares had accumulated over time from just instruments of the musical arts to instruments of all shapes and sizes. He had anything the eye fancied, trinkets, jewelry, books, and weapons, all from the lands he had travelled before arriving in Alexandria. He had found there was more gold to be made from a wide variety of goods rather than focusing on one specific type of product without being the producer of such goods. He displayed the few weapons he had gathered more prominently to the passing viewer, there was also a combat tournament going on in celebration of the royal marriage and it was in Orpheus’s hopes that some of the prospective contestants would be perusing the markets in search of a good blade to suit their needs in the upcoming competition.
In
The Dragon Dance - A Dark Fairy Tale Fantasy (High-Casual/Always Open)
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10 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
Sorry, I'll have my post up before noonish today. I've been bogged down by ISP crap lately.
In
The Dragon Dance - A Dark Fairy Tale Fantasy (High-Casual/Always Open)
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10 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
There are tons of Spanish fairytales that are applicable to this RP if I'm not mistaken?
On a side note, ZealousBlade, how would you feel about having Baleno employed by Orpheus as a bodyguard or something? They could be like Tyrion and Bronn lol
**CITY HIGHWAY 51 - 4:30AM**
For so early in the morning, the traffic on the highway still seemed to produce a significant amount of noise. People going here and there no matter the time, the bustle of the city never truly let up. The highway was 2 separate lanes each going to and from the heart of the city. In between the lanes was a gap where one could see the highway suspended above a fenced off area filled with litter, wreckage, spirit vines, and the occasional hobo.
Tartok sat quietly atop a cardboard sheet, legs crossed and back rigid against one of the concrete pillars holding the Highway 51 afloat. The waterbender seemed unfazed by the loud noises of traffic above his head as the headphones over his ears played the soft soothing sounds of the ocean. He had meditated from dusk till dawn. His chi in alignment and his breaths steadied he meditated unfazed by his surrounding. He had found this place sheltered from the weather and had made it his own some weeks ago, though not much like a home to many, it served Tartok's base needs, and that was all he could ask for. Small spirits floated and bounced around the young man as he meditated in tranquility.
Tartok's white eyelashes flickered open as his bracelet began to vibrate and buzz, he disliked the peace of technology, it reminded him too much of the Buzzard Wasps he had encountered in the desert. The buzzing brought unpleasant memories of that journey. Letting out a deep breath, he rose to his feet limberly as the spirits who sometimes stayed with him in his dwelling flew off to do whatever they did during the day. Tartok directed his gaze up towards the gap between lanes above him, the light of dawn starting to fill his dwelling. _A nice day_ he thought to himself as he observed the morning sky. The grey clouds and thick fog always seemed to remind him of white paints made from pearls, a pleasant thought for someone of odd tastes like him.
With a bright mood, he brushed his wispy white hair back as he began to make his way towards Green Heights. The enthusiastic soul an odd sight amongst the dreary city-folk. He looked around at the towering structures and wide myriad of sights as he walked, the city still never ceased to amaze him even after having held. Residency within its territory for a few months now. He had. Joined the freedom fighters very recently and was interested as to what this team he was going to be a part of was going to be doing. He shrugged to himself as it was no use in worrying on those thing, it would all be revealed in time, with patience.
At last, He arrived at Green Heights and promptly entered the beaten apartment complex. The place was quaint and had a certain sentimental value to it despite its' appearance, in Tartok's opinion and he had grown fond of the building in the few times he had paid a visit to the location. The elevator dinged as the doors slid open, bidding him to enter. As the doors closed, Tartok removed his headphones from his ears and put them around his neck as he pondered what he would do for dinner that night. Just as he imagined the usual ramen cup noodles, the elevator dinged and the doors reopened. He was greeted by a room filled with computers and workers tirelessly tapping away at their keyboards. He approached the table where three had already gathered and gave a respectful bow, "Greetings, I do hope I am not late" After rising back up, he took a seat next to the girl with the mask in front of her.
With a quick glance he carefully took in his new would-be teammates. They all seemed to be characters of varying background and disciplines, all seemed to be rugged and familiar to some extent with martial arts or bending. The team as a whole so far was ragtag and potentially dysfunctional, but still maintained a charm to it, giving the faint idea that such a gathering of different people could possibly _work_.
Team Smelly-Fingers
Character Sheet
**Name:**
Tartok Oshiro
**Age:**
Twenty-Two
**Gender: **
Male
**Element:**
Water
**Appearance:**
**Abilities:**
Despite his being a country bumpkin from the outskirts of the Southern Water Tribe, Tartok is a gifted Martial Artist, like his own way of doing things, he reflects sharpness and precision in his Water-bending while still maintaining a serene fluidity as well as learning the fiercer ways of the olden Southern Water Tribe Warriors, even carrying a Water Tribe Boomerang with him. Keeping within himself an inner peace and a mind that is constantly adjusting to any given situation, Tartok has the foundations of Ice and the adaptability of Water. He prefers a defensive style that counters with aggressive attacks. Well taught in the ways of traditional and ancient water bending techniques, he is old-fashioned and is stubbornly adjusted to combating newer, more modern bending styles. Besides his bending, Tartok's inner peace gives him a strong spiritual peace enabling him talent in the Spiritual Arts and a good relationship with spirits, able to calm and appease the anger of spirits as well as enter the spirit world through meditation and communicate with them.
Before entering the city, he taught himself techniques for urban water bending, manipulating water in an area without large bodies of them would be a much different environment and experience for Tartok and he would be prepared for such things. Tartok draws water from any place he can, anything from water towers to sewer pipes, he increases the pressure withing to release water sources for himself to bend. He has also learned to bend steam and is trying to learn to draw water from the air. As an additional water source, he carries a water bottle on a clip to his pants.
**Personality:**
In contrary to his age, Tartok is wise and cunning, displaying the wisdom of an old man and showing a defined maturity. Tartok knows the virtues of loyalty and friendship and provides his council to any in need of an outer opinion. Most often, he displays a cool-head and a peaceful attitude, unshaken and relaxed in almost all situations. He enjoys tranquility and meditation whenever he is not training as his own personal recreation, treasuring enlightenment as one of his favorite pastimes. Unfortunately, he is quite out of date with the newest technological advancements, his only electronic being his music player, which constantly plays sounds of the ocean and rain on loop, his own favorite playlist he listens to at all times when not talking to anybody.
As a newcomer to the urban setting, he oftentimes finds himself lost amidst the maze like cityscape and often out of place with his respectful and polite old customs and ways of speaking amongst gruffer cityfolk. He harbors a growing feeling with himself that something within the city is amiss and wonders whether it is just his spirit unsettled for no reason or an omen for events to come.
**Brief Bio:**
Raised by his single mother in a house a few miles away from the Southern Water Tribe. He and his mother lived alone in the wilderness of the tundra, their house, a fine log cabin next to a frozen lake, the final destination on a road leading out from the Southern City before ending leading out into the still unexplored areas of the arctic. Together, they lived in a quiet environment undisturbed by any others except the occasional and very rare lost traveler who had only arrived at their doorstep by mistake. Tartok was homeschooled and taught by his mother. His mother, a powerful water bender taught him her techniques and skills as well as how to communicate with spirits. For years, just he, his mother and the spirits lived without a disturbance until one day, while his mother was out fishing, a beaten mail delivery truck sputtered and coughed down the road sometime after his 17th birthday. The mailman in the truck carried a letter and package, both addressed to Tartok himself. Reading the sender, Tartok was shocked to see it was from his father, whom he knew nothing about and knew better than to ask about. The letter was a happy birthday card from his father, the man he had inherited his surname from. Despite it being for his fifth birthday, Tartok still couldn't find himself to be angry at his father whom he had never seen. Inside the package was a music player and a map of the world,the music player, loaded with sound tracks of water in nature, was an odd present, but he still considered it thoughtful.
Uncharacteristically, Tartok kept the letter and gift a secret from his mother. He knew the topic of his father always left a sad look in her eyes so he decided to not cause her grief. The map sparked a desire within himself to go out into the world and further his own training and spirit. He wanted to see what the outside world was like and decided that he would go out and see for himself when he turned twenty. Not wanting to keep _this_ a secret from his mother, he asked for her permission and was pleasantly surprised to give him her approval. She understood he could not stay there his whole life and decided to let her son go. On his twentieth birthday, with just a backpack of supplies he set out on his journey.
In
The Dragon Dance - A Dark Fairy Tale Fantasy (High-Casual/Always Open)
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10 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
There is my CS in the Characters tab. I changed him into something like Orpheus reborn. I didn't change his name because I used it around fifty times within the CS so that was the most plausible way to keep the name, and to be honest I kind of like the idea. Besides that, I changed the paragraphing in my second paragraph of the Bio, which was challenging since it was a dialogue paragraph so forgive me if it looks a bit broken now.
In
The Dragon Dance - A Dark Fairy Tale Fantasy (High-Casual/Always Open)
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10 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
**Name:** Orpheus Taygetus, Descended from the original Orpheus
**Titles:** None Yet
**Affiliation:** An amateur travelling trader and musician, Orpheus has ties with many merchants and musicians of his homeland but in the place of his mother’s ancestors, Europa, he is in a place unknown to him.
**Gender:** Male
**Age:** 22
**Birthplace:** Hellas
**Origin:** Orpheus and Eurydice
**Race:** Human, A mix of Hellas and Celt Blood
**Appearance:**
[Orpheus](http://paizo.com/image/content/GameMasteryModules/7.-DariusFinch.jpg)
**Occupation:** Travelling Merchant and Bard
**Resources:**
-Trade Commodities from his Homeland
-A bag of coins
-A Golden Lyre
-An Ivory Lyre
-A wide assortment of instruments
-A Dagger
**Skills: **
Merchant/Business Minded- Orpheus is skilled in the art of marketing and obtaining money through many means. As well as good at marketing, he has developed at least an amateur sense of identifying lucrative opportunities
Eye for Potential- Orpheus can tell the worth of a man with just a short look, a useful tool in negotiations as well as finding useful friends.
Silver Tongued- A natural born utilizer of words, Orpheus has always been well gifted with an outgoing personality and an open plethora of words to get what he wants. Preferring the use of his tongue to the use of his dagger, he speaks with strong persuasiveness. Just as well as he can convince people he can also lie with similar ease.
Musician- An extremely talented musician, Orpheus plays his Golden Lyre beautifully having learned how to play since a very young age as well as a wide plethora of unique instruments he has learned
**Personality:**
Orpheus is an earnest young man with an outgoing and charismatic personality. Sharp of wit and even sharper of tongue, he is quite intelligent and seeks to utilize his own talents to their furthest extents. Beneath the face of the cheerful young musician lies the mind of an old wise fox, clever, sly and ambitious who will do many things to reach his goal. To sit upon a throne of his own wealth obtained through the use of his own talents and looking down at the backs of the people of power he has toppled to reach the pinnacle is the basis of his final goal. To reach such a shining stage from his current standing, Orpheus, even at his age, has a basic understanding of the morals and means necessary to make such a dream happen. Though an opportunist and ambitious, Orpheus still knows the meaning of companionship and loyalty and has a moral obligation against betrayal of those he considers true allies. Even further beneath his burning ambition is a smoldering distaste for those of noble blood.
**Biography: **
Born the bastard of a Hellan nobleman and a Celtic musician, Orpheus was raised in the lesser known areas of his father’s rural estate as a lowly servant alongside his caring mother. His mother was a comely maiden from Europa with a strong talent in music who had been captured by slave traders on the road while she and her caravan travelled through Hellas. She was sold as a slave to a Hellan nobleman captivated by her fair skin and golden hair. A year and a half later, at the horror of the lady of the house, Orpheus was born, a young child with the same fair skin and blonde hair as his mother. Since a young age he discovered the beautiful music talent he inherited from his mother and with his mother, he spent the little amount of hours in his free time fostering his skill with instruments provided as gifts to his mother from his father.
Through the years, Orpheus acquired enough freedom that he could leave the estate when he wanted as long as he returned within reasonable time. It was with this that Orpheus entered the market streets of Parnassus, a captivated rural slave bumpkin wandering around the city for the first time. While wandering the streets he found himself in a winding maze of the back alleys, it was here he found a small market stand in the shadows of decrepit pillars sitting atop ruined walkways. Standing within the stall was a hooded old man leaning quite still against the rotted olive wood posts in his stand. As Orpheus approached the hooded figure, it spoke to him in a surprisingly enchanting voice that radiated with warmth, “Come hither child, need not be cautious child, you are not lost, this was your destination whether you knew it or not. I have a gift for you child”, as he spoke the old man fumbled through a linen bag slung over his shoulder.
Standing across the stand at this point, Orpheus strained his eyes to see the face of the old man, shrouded under the hood. The old man lifted his face towards Orpheus, thought the rest of his facial features were hidden by the shade of his hood, Orpheus could see clearly the brilliant glowing golden eyes that lay beneath the shroud. Quite apprehensive and nervous, the 13 year old Orpheus watched anxiously as the Golden-eyed old man pulled a beautiful golden lyre from his bag, the bow and handle of the lyre wrapped in gold and embroidered beautifully, the strings appeared to be thin strands of gold themselves.
Orpheus was captivated by the beauty of the instrument and could look only with awe at the delicate inscriptions and folding on the lyre. The old man spoke his voice still warm and sweet, “I will give you this instrument, child, take it, a [i]gift[/i].” He said as held out the lyre. Awestruck, Orpheus mindlessly reached his hand out to take the Lyre and then nervously retracted his hand as he came back to his senses and suspicion. “There are no such thing as gifts, sir. I must ask, there are surely strings attached to such a lucrative gift, and I fear that such strings are not the type I want to be tied up by, so what is the catch?”. said Orpheus as he looked into the golden eyes of the old man. The old man let out a soft chuckle, “You are certainly sharp of tongue for a young one. Indeed, this gift may seem too good to be true but it is a true gift. One from me to you with honest intentions, not quite like the gifts you know of that your father gives to your mother with the intentions of receiving affection, your talents have impressed me child, and perhaps you will be someone worth mentioning in the future.” The old man leaned in closer to Orpheus, his eyes burning ever more brightly as he drew closer, within seconds the dark alleyways was being bathed in radiant light and Orpheus, shielding his eyes, could hear the old man’s voice close to his ear, “The only intention behind this gift is in gratitude of entertainment you have given me so far, perhaps you will be someone to continue watching in the future...perhaps like you great-grandfather...” The voice faded as the shadows of the alleyway slinked back. Orpheus cautiously opened his eyes, the stand and old man had disappeared and all that remained was the Golden Lyre laying atop the linen bag.
Sometime around the fourteenth month of his eighteenth year, a now well established peddler in Parnassus who had been given his own freedom from his father as a gift to his mother, Orpheus would sell his wares and play his beautiful music regularly using a Lyre he bought with his own money within the streets. He received news that his father had passed away as a result of a mysterious illness. Orpheus was aware of the gravity of the issue with his father’s passing. His father had been the one who stood between his official wife and Orpheus’ mother, and with his passing his mother was no longer protected. Hurriedly, Orpheus travelled to the estate to find his mother but was destroyed to find he was too late. The lady of the house’s cruelty had already reached his mother. He found her laying in pig stables, her beautiful blond hair scalped and her fair skin burned. Horrified, Orpheus wrapped his mother in a cloth and carried the corpse away into the nearby forest. He buried her beneath a small oak tree in a wide open field. With sorrow, he placed his lyre that he spent so long saving up for on her grave and left. That night, he packed up his things, spent the last of his gold on a carriage and two mules, gathered all his goods and set out on a journey.
**Notes: **
-He dislikes nobles
Character Sheet
**Name:**
Tartok Oshiro
**Age:**
Twenty-Two
**Gender: **
Male
**Element:**
Water
**Appearance:**
**Abilities:**
Despite his being a country bumpkin from the outskirts of the Southern Water Tribe, Tartok is a gifted Martial Artist, like his own way of doing things, he reflects sharpness and precision in his Water-bending while still maintaining a serene fluidity as well as learning the fiercer ways of the olden Southern Water Tribe Warriors, even carrying a Water Tribe Boomerang with him. Keeping within himself an inner peace and a mind that is constantly adjusting to any given situation, Tartok has the foundations of Ice and the adaptability of Water. He prefers a defensive style that counters with aggressive attacks. Well taught in the ways of traditional and ancient water bending techniques, he is old-fashioned and is stubbornly adjusted to combating newer, more modern bending styles. Besides his bending, Tartok's inner peace gives him a strong spiritual peace enabling him talent in the Spiritual Arts and a good relationship with spirits, able to calm and appease the anger of spirits as well as enter the spirit world through meditation and communicate with them.
Before entering the city, he taught himself techniques for urban water bending, manipulating water in an area without large bodies of them would be a much different environment and experience for Tartok and he would be prepared for such things. Tartok draws water from any place he can, anything from water towers to sewer pipes, he increases the pressure withing to release water sources for himself to bend. He has also learned to bend steam and is trying to learn to draw water from the air. As an additional water source, he carries a water bottle on a clip to his pants.
**Personality:**
In contrary to his age, Tartok is wise and cunning, displaying the wisdom of an old man and showing a defined maturity. Tartok knows the virtues of loyalty and friendship and provides his council to any in need of an outer opinion. Most often, he displays a cool-head and a peaceful attitude, unshaken and relaxed in almost all situations. He enjoys tranquility and meditation whenever he is not training as his own personal recreation, treasuring enlightenment as one of his favorite pastimes. Unfortunately, he is quite out of date with the newest technological advancements, his only electronic being his music player, which constantly plays sounds of the ocean and rain on loop, his own favorite playlist he listens to at all times when not talking to anybody.
As a newcomer to the urban setting, he oftentimes finds himself lost amidst the maze like cityscape and often out of place with his respectful and polite old customs and ways of speaking amongst gruffer cityfolk. He harbors a growing feeling with himself that something within the city is amiss and wonders whether it is just his spirit unsettled for no reason or an omen for events to come.
**Brief Bio:**
Raised by his single mother in a house a few miles away from the Southern Water Tribe. He and his mother lived alone in the wilderness of the tundra, their house, a fine log cabin next to a frozen lake, the final destination on a road leading out from the Southern City before ending leading out into the still unexplored areas of the arctic. Together, they lived in a quiet environment undisturbed by any others except the occasional and very rare lost traveler who had only arrived at their doorstep by mistake. Tartok was homeschooled and taught by his mother. His mother, a powerful water bender taught him her techniques and skills as well as how to communicate with spirits. For years, just he, his mother and the spirits lived without a disturbance until one day, while his mother was out fishing, a beaten mail delivery truck sputtered and coughed down the road sometime after his 17th birthday. The mailman in the truck carried a letter and package, both addressed to Tartok himself. Reading the sender, Tartok was shocked to see it was from his father, whom he knew nothing about and knew better than to ask about. The letter was a happy birthday card from his father, the man he had inherited his surname from. Despite it being for his fifth birthday, Tartok still couldn't find himself to be angry at his father whom he had never seen. Inside the package was a music player and a map of the world,the music player, loaded with sound tracks of water in nature, was an odd present, but he still considered it thoughtful.
Uncharacteristically, Tartok kept the letter and gift a secret from his mother. He knew the topic of his father always left a sad look in her eyes so he decided to not cause her grief. The map sparked a desire within himself to go out into the world and further his own training and spirit. He wanted to see what the outside world was like and decided that he would go out and see for himself when he turned twenty. Not wanting to keep _this_ a secret from his mother, he asked for her permission and was pleasantly surprised to give him her approval. She understood he could not stay there his whole life and decided to let her son go. On his twentieth birthday, with just a backpack of supplies he set out on his journey.
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