@TJ, thanks, dude. Hope my post does him well. Also, I'm glad you mentioned my made-up news article in your post, gave me a laugh :)
@Eyeris, whether or not Haven recognizes Y from Densha's description is up to you, of course. It might be better if she either didn't know or didn't care to tell Densha, however; that way, we can go with TJ's main story before going into Densha's backstory. If you want Haven to know Y, then I can spill any info on him that you need. Or PM it to you, if that's better.
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In
The Faintly Gallows (Dark Fantasy/Horror/Suspense/Supernatural)
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10 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
In
The Faintly Gallows (Dark Fantasy/Horror/Suspense/Supernatural)
→
10 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
Densha gave her name and spelled it out for the innkeeper, then dropped the correct amount of coins into his hand.
“Thank you,” she said. She thought briefly about whether she could ask him about Y without raising suspicion. Then again, innkeepers see so many travelers coming in and out, and this is the only inn in town; if Sloan has a good enough memory, he just might have seen him.
“By the way,” she began, choosing her words carefully, “do you often get a lot of, ah, diverse customers? I can see there are many different races of people here already, and it’s not even noon.”
“Oh? I s’pose so, yeah,” Sloan replied, confused. “Why d’you ask?”
“Do you get customers from some of the more northern parts of Imerill? Maybe a man who wears a lot of furs? Shoulder-length red hair, a hooked nose? About yeigh high?” She raised her hand above her head to indicate Y’s height as best as she could estimate.
Sloan narrowed his eyes warily. “Lookin’ for someone you know?”
“Um, yes,” she said, thinking fast. “A friend of mine. He mentioned he might pass through here.”
“Well,” Sloan began cleaning a glass mug as he spoke, “I might’ve seen someone like that. I don’t keep track of everyone who stays here, y’know. We throw out our older ledgers every so often.”
“He couldn’t have been here too long ago!” Densha said quickly. “In fact, he might still be staying here. Do you think I could have a look‒“
“Absolutely not,” Sloan interrupted gravely. “Our records are for business purposes only. If y’need help finding someone, try asking around town. There’re plenty of people who’re better at trackin’ folks than they oughta be.”
She gave in with a small sigh. “Sorry for bothering you,” she mumbled, and went upstairs to her room. Maybe I’ll have better luck asking other people staying here for the night, she thought to herself. She stored her spare clothes and extra food in a drawer, then returned downstairs.
Finding an empty table, she pulled up a chair and sat, looking around the room at the various people. A small, colorful jester was attempting conversation with an annoyed-looking man clad in black. A woman who appeared to work at the inn was serving breakfast to some diners. The innkeeper was pouring ale into an enormous pitcher.
A loud grumble emerged from her stomach. Realizing she hadn’t eaten in hours, Densha waved her arm to get the attention of the serving woman.
“Can I get a plate of potatoes and chicken, please?” she asked her. “Oh, but before you go,” Densha realized she had an opportunity; surely this amiable-looking girl would be willing to share any information she had. “Have you seen a red-haired man come in recently? Maybe wearing some fur outfit, has a hook of a nose? Fair skin, rather tall?” She made sure to lower her voice to avoid getting the attention of the innkeeper.
“Thank you,” she said. She thought briefly about whether she could ask him about Y without raising suspicion. Then again, innkeepers see so many travelers coming in and out, and this is the only inn in town; if Sloan has a good enough memory, he just might have seen him.
“By the way,” she began, choosing her words carefully, “do you often get a lot of, ah, diverse customers? I can see there are many different races of people here already, and it’s not even noon.”
“Oh? I s’pose so, yeah,” Sloan replied, confused. “Why d’you ask?”
“Do you get customers from some of the more northern parts of Imerill? Maybe a man who wears a lot of furs? Shoulder-length red hair, a hooked nose? About yeigh high?” She raised her hand above her head to indicate Y’s height as best as she could estimate.
Sloan narrowed his eyes warily. “Lookin’ for someone you know?”
“Um, yes,” she said, thinking fast. “A friend of mine. He mentioned he might pass through here.”
“Well,” Sloan began cleaning a glass mug as he spoke, “I might’ve seen someone like that. I don’t keep track of everyone who stays here, y’know. We throw out our older ledgers every so often.”
“He couldn’t have been here too long ago!” Densha said quickly. “In fact, he might still be staying here. Do you think I could have a look‒“
“Absolutely not,” Sloan interrupted gravely. “Our records are for business purposes only. If y’need help finding someone, try asking around town. There’re plenty of people who’re better at trackin’ folks than they oughta be.”
She gave in with a small sigh. “Sorry for bothering you,” she mumbled, and went upstairs to her room. Maybe I’ll have better luck asking other people staying here for the night, she thought to herself. She stored her spare clothes and extra food in a drawer, then returned downstairs.
Finding an empty table, she pulled up a chair and sat, looking around the room at the various people. A small, colorful jester was attempting conversation with an annoyed-looking man clad in black. A woman who appeared to work at the inn was serving breakfast to some diners. The innkeeper was pouring ale into an enormous pitcher.
A loud grumble emerged from her stomach. Realizing she hadn’t eaten in hours, Densha waved her arm to get the attention of the serving woman.
“Can I get a plate of potatoes and chicken, please?” she asked her. “Oh, but before you go,” Densha realized she had an opportunity; surely this amiable-looking girl would be willing to share any information she had. “Have you seen a red-haired man come in recently? Maybe wearing some fur outfit, has a hook of a nose? Fair skin, rather tall?” She made sure to lower her voice to avoid getting the attention of the innkeeper.
In
The Faintly Gallows (Dark Fantasy/Horror/Suspense/Supernatural)
→
10 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
Posted.
TJ, I believe you said at one point that it was all right to speak for your minor characters, but I wasn't sure if Sloan was considered a minor character, and I didn't want to overstep any boundaries. Let me know if you want me to write his response.
TJ, I believe you said at one point that it was all right to speak for your minor characters, but I wasn't sure if Sloan was considered a minor character, and I didn't want to overstep any boundaries. Let me know if you want me to write his response.
In
The Faintly Gallows (Dark Fantasy/Horror/Suspense/Supernatural)
→
10 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
It’s a fucking nightmare out here.
Densha pulled irritably at the hood of her cloak. Downpouring raindrops shattered like glass on the cobblestone pathway. As she crossed a small bridge, she looked up at her destination. The dark, towering wall seemed to stare her down as she walked toward it. She couldn’t recall ever seeing such a tall structure in her life. In fact, pretty much everything she’s experienced since leaving Eastwind had been a shock to her. Men riding wolves, homes built underground like anthills… even spellcasting was unheard of in her homeland, save for the occasional healing enchantment by the local shaman. Though, by far, the heavy rain was the most horrible new thing. Sure, Eastwind had a few sprinkles now and then, but deserts don’t storm like this. The explosions in the sky made her flinch every time; each one felt closer and closer.
As Densha neared the entrance gates, a man shouted down at her from a watchtower.
“Oi, down there! State’cha bus’ness!”
She thought for a moment. Densha didn’t exactly want the whole world to know she was hunting a large bounty. That would only mean competition.
“Just a traveler, looking for a place to rest!” she bellowed back.
The gate man looked skeptically at her weapons and armor. Densha forced a smile.
“Awright, bu’ we go' our eyes on ya!” He signaled to other men on the wall, and the iron-clad gates began to open slowly inward. Densha slipped through and looked behind her to watch them shut it.
It was morning, and there didn’t seem to be many people out in the rain. Those that were rushed to and fro, searching for shelter. She spotted a beggar sitting on a pile of wet papers nearby; he was trying to protect his head from the rain with a particularly thin news article on The True Lives of Elven Warriors. Densha approached him warily.
“Hey, know where I can get some food and a warm bed?” she asked him.
At first, the man didn’t seem to realize she was talking to him. He looked behind him anxiously.
“Me?” he asked her, pointing at himself.
“Yes,” Densha responded, puzzled. I suppose the people around here don’t talk to the destitute, she thought.
“I… Y-you probably want The Faintly Gallows. It’s just in the center of town. You can follow the main road and cross a wooden bridge to it.”
“Thank you, sir. Here,” she pulled a golden coin out of her purse and handed it to him. “Have a good day.”
The man was dumbfounded, holding the little coin with both hands as if it was his firstborn child. Densha left him stunned speechless and went down the wide stone path. Sure enough, she had only walked some 10 or 20 yards before reaching a tall, grayish building with curly letters spelling “The Faintly Gallows” above the door. Though it was similar to the rest of the town’s structures, the inn seemed warmer, more inviting somehow. The windows glowed orange from a lit fire, and she could smell bacon and potatoes being cooked.
When she opened the door, Densha was immediately in a better mood. The rain was practically a whisper compared to the bustling people and the sizzling breakfast stuffs. A woman behind the far wooden counter greeted her welcomingly. Densha felt the heat of the enormous fire pit on her skin, and she took off her cloak and wrung it out outside the door before shutting it and stuffing the cloak in her bag. A small man by the dining tables was performing a cheerful song on his fiddle; Densha watched for a moment, then neared the innkeeper at the other end of the room.
“Got any rooms available?” she asked the balding man casually.
Densha pulled irritably at the hood of her cloak. Downpouring raindrops shattered like glass on the cobblestone pathway. As she crossed a small bridge, she looked up at her destination. The dark, towering wall seemed to stare her down as she walked toward it. She couldn’t recall ever seeing such a tall structure in her life. In fact, pretty much everything she’s experienced since leaving Eastwind had been a shock to her. Men riding wolves, homes built underground like anthills… even spellcasting was unheard of in her homeland, save for the occasional healing enchantment by the local shaman. Though, by far, the heavy rain was the most horrible new thing. Sure, Eastwind had a few sprinkles now and then, but deserts don’t storm like this. The explosions in the sky made her flinch every time; each one felt closer and closer.
As Densha neared the entrance gates, a man shouted down at her from a watchtower.
“Oi, down there! State’cha bus’ness!”
She thought for a moment. Densha didn’t exactly want the whole world to know she was hunting a large bounty. That would only mean competition.
“Just a traveler, looking for a place to rest!” she bellowed back.
The gate man looked skeptically at her weapons and armor. Densha forced a smile.
“Awright, bu’ we go' our eyes on ya!” He signaled to other men on the wall, and the iron-clad gates began to open slowly inward. Densha slipped through and looked behind her to watch them shut it.
It was morning, and there didn’t seem to be many people out in the rain. Those that were rushed to and fro, searching for shelter. She spotted a beggar sitting on a pile of wet papers nearby; he was trying to protect his head from the rain with a particularly thin news article on The True Lives of Elven Warriors. Densha approached him warily.
“Hey, know where I can get some food and a warm bed?” she asked him.
At first, the man didn’t seem to realize she was talking to him. He looked behind him anxiously.
“Me?” he asked her, pointing at himself.
“Yes,” Densha responded, puzzled. I suppose the people around here don’t talk to the destitute, she thought.
“I… Y-you probably want The Faintly Gallows. It’s just in the center of town. You can follow the main road and cross a wooden bridge to it.”
“Thank you, sir. Here,” she pulled a golden coin out of her purse and handed it to him. “Have a good day.”
The man was dumbfounded, holding the little coin with both hands as if it was his firstborn child. Densha left him stunned speechless and went down the wide stone path. Sure enough, she had only walked some 10 or 20 yards before reaching a tall, grayish building with curly letters spelling “The Faintly Gallows” above the door. Though it was similar to the rest of the town’s structures, the inn seemed warmer, more inviting somehow. The windows glowed orange from a lit fire, and she could smell bacon and potatoes being cooked.
When she opened the door, Densha was immediately in a better mood. The rain was practically a whisper compared to the bustling people and the sizzling breakfast stuffs. A woman behind the far wooden counter greeted her welcomingly. Densha felt the heat of the enormous fire pit on her skin, and she took off her cloak and wrung it out outside the door before shutting it and stuffing the cloak in her bag. A small man by the dining tables was performing a cheerful song on his fiddle; Densha watched for a moment, then neared the innkeeper at the other end of the room.
“Got any rooms available?” she asked the balding man casually.
In
The Faintly Gallows (Dark Fantasy/Horror/Suspense/Supernatural)
→
10 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
Nice IC post, TJ. I'll have Densha arrive soon. Should have a post up by the end of the day.
In
The Faintly Gallows (Dark Fantasy/Horror/Suspense/Supernatural)
→
10 yrs ago
Forum: Casual Roleplay
Name: Densha Nzongo (DEHN-shuh ehn-ZOHN-goh)
Age: 22
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Class: Bounty hunter
Appearance: Densha has black skin and heavily lidded, dark brown eyes. Her long, dark dreadlocks are tied in a half-ponytail. She has multiple silver and gold piercings on her face and ears. Her height is about 5’9”, and she is fairly muscular. Some sketches I did of her.
Clothing: Densha wears light leather armor over a red cotton tunic, leather gloves, and tall, laced boots. She has a fine, black cashmere cloak with an attached hood in case of rain or when she wants to be covert.
Weapons: Crossbow and iron bolts; steel hunting knife
Personality: Educated and intelligent, Densha is very opinionated on many subjects and has a strong sense of loyalty and pride. She is willful and a bit hotheaded; she sometimes lets her emotions overpower her good judgment. She tends to have a cautious approach when it comes to other people, but can be very sociable, even silver-tongued when she wants to be.
Background: Densha grew up in a faraway land in the deserts known as Eastwind. Her parents were wealthy merchants who wanted her to have a bright future; they taught her arithmetic and rhetoric with the intention of sending her to a university in a big city. Densha, however, wanted to be a fighter; she learned to use a crossbow and practiced sword fighting in secret. One day, when Densha was about to set off on her own, a traveler came to Eastwind who claimed he wanted a place to rest and a cold drink. Densha was fascinated by his foreign clothes and his mysterious demeanor, and went to the local tavern he was staying at to meet him. The traveler, a handsome man with red hair and a hook nose, identified himself only as Y. After Densha persistently bugged him, Y told her about how he was going to a town near Darkwood after he “wrapped up here”. He refused to tell Densha anything more about him. She gave up and returned home. When morning came, there was news of the royal governor of Eastwind’s murder. Later that day, after investigating the crime, the government put up a wanted poster in town square for the red-haired man. The bounty was set at 50,000 gold coins. Densha knew that she had the best chance of finding him, claiming the bounty, and restoring the glory of her home, as only she knew where he was headed next. That was a month ago; recently, Densha had reached Blackwater and took shelter at an inn called The Faintly Gallows, where she intended to rest and question the locals.
Let me know if any of you guys want to do something with or participate in Densha's backstory. I intend to dive into this at some point, but I'd love to have her solve some local mysteries with other players first. Thanks, everyone. :)
Age: 22
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Class: Bounty hunter
Appearance: Densha has black skin and heavily lidded, dark brown eyes. Her long, dark dreadlocks are tied in a half-ponytail. She has multiple silver and gold piercings on her face and ears. Her height is about 5’9”, and she is fairly muscular. Some sketches I did of her.
Clothing: Densha wears light leather armor over a red cotton tunic, leather gloves, and tall, laced boots. She has a fine, black cashmere cloak with an attached hood in case of rain or when she wants to be covert.
Weapons: Crossbow and iron bolts; steel hunting knife
Personality: Educated and intelligent, Densha is very opinionated on many subjects and has a strong sense of loyalty and pride. She is willful and a bit hotheaded; she sometimes lets her emotions overpower her good judgment. She tends to have a cautious approach when it comes to other people, but can be very sociable, even silver-tongued when she wants to be.
Background: Densha grew up in a faraway land in the deserts known as Eastwind. Her parents were wealthy merchants who wanted her to have a bright future; they taught her arithmetic and rhetoric with the intention of sending her to a university in a big city. Densha, however, wanted to be a fighter; she learned to use a crossbow and practiced sword fighting in secret. One day, when Densha was about to set off on her own, a traveler came to Eastwind who claimed he wanted a place to rest and a cold drink. Densha was fascinated by his foreign clothes and his mysterious demeanor, and went to the local tavern he was staying at to meet him. The traveler, a handsome man with red hair and a hook nose, identified himself only as Y. After Densha persistently bugged him, Y told her about how he was going to a town near Darkwood after he “wrapped up here”. He refused to tell Densha anything more about him. She gave up and returned home. When morning came, there was news of the royal governor of Eastwind’s murder. Later that day, after investigating the crime, the government put up a wanted poster in town square for the red-haired man. The bounty was set at 50,000 gold coins. Densha knew that she had the best chance of finding him, claiming the bounty, and restoring the glory of her home, as only she knew where he was headed next. That was a month ago; recently, Densha had reached Blackwater and took shelter at an inn called The Faintly Gallows, where she intended to rest and question the locals.
Let me know if any of you guys want to do something with or participate in Densha's backstory. I intend to dive into this at some point, but I'd love to have her solve some local mysteries with other players first. Thanks, everyone. :)
If this isn't closed, I have a character in mind I'd like to use here. Should be able to PM you a profile by Friday evening.
In
Virtual Calamity (Virtual Reality, Modern Sci-Fi. Suspense Thriller) Interest Check
→
10 yrs ago
Forum: Advanced Interest Checks
Cool, I think I will join. Count me in!
In
Virtual Calamity (Virtual Reality, Modern Sci-Fi. Suspense Thriller) Interest Check
→
10 yrs ago
Forum: Advanced Interest Checks
This sounds intriguing. Question: Can I be an organizer for the tournament, or can I only be a participant?
Don't worry, I tend to draw my characters after I've already written their character sheets, so it would be more of a visual aid than a writing supplement. Thanks so much, Bing!
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