Bonjour xx

Greetings! Candy Cane Service!

Thank-you for my candy cane <3

*me opening my PMs*

Fog of Torvelt

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Z O S I M O S B L A C K C O I L

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Zosimos had been trudging along besides the horses pulling the cart, favouring their company to that of her traveling companions. Beneath her thick cloak she was dry and warm, kept safe from the deluge soaking the others. The downpour was nothing she was not already accustomed to from years surviving in Torvelt’s mountains, but she did wonder if perhaps the others were unprepared for it. She had kept an ear on the conversations unfolding around her as the day progressed, only really half listening for most of her attention had remained on subtly keeping a watchful eye on the magic users of the band.

When the agitation of the horses quickly turned to panic, Zosimos reached out to calm the beasts. The rancid odour and the cry of warning from one of the band alerted her to the source of the horses’ fear. She growled loudly as she spotted Nathanial vanish into thin air, cursing both him and the oncoming danger under her breath.

Zosimos caught the bridles of the cart horses and stood in front of them, trying to stop them from rearing up and bolting away with all their supplies or trampling one of her quest companions in their blind fright. She used the connection her arcane magic gave her with the creatures of the natural world to attempt to soothe the pair. She spoke to them in a calm tone, one that contradicted the mounting alarm she was feeling.

The Tiefling’s gaze swept over the line of trees on both sides of the muddy road, watching in trepidation for trolls in come into sight. Zosimos had run into trolls before, mostly during the first few years she had been living in the mountains of Torvelt. Those were the times before she learnt the signs they left and how to avoid them. Only once had she ever gotten close enough to one to be within any mortal danger. She had accidently stumbled across a small troll one day while scaling the crags and heights the peaks while exploring. Before she realised the troll was far too small to be anything other than a juvenile, two more had appeared in quick succession. They had trapped her against a cliff face, their positioning indicating that they had spotted her far before she had been aware of their presence. It had only been Zosimos’ ability to rapidly scale the rockface and frantically squeeze herself through a narrow fissure in it that that had allowed her to escape been torn limb from limb by the trolls that day.

When their enemy finally broke through the tree line, Zosimos’s one good remaining eye widened in shock. The flesh of the trolls was sloughing off as they charged towards them. Great, big open sores festered all over their bodies and the stench as they neared was enough to turn anyone’s stomach.

Zosimos hung back as the battle began. She was no use in combat if she could not use her retractable claws and shark-like teeth – and touching the decaying flesh of the trolls would only poison her. Instead, she steadied the horses as they cried out wildly and tried to break free from the cart in order to flee. Zosimos extended her magic, Onterprinh, again to reach out to the consciousnesses of the beasts of burden and willed it to be enough to quiet the terror she could see in their eyes.

Fog of Torvelt

@Jeremor If you would like to post to move things along for everyone else, that's absolutely fine by me, but otherwise I'll have a post for you tomorrow :)

Fog of Torvelt

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Z O S I M O S B L A C K C O I L

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Zosimos stood off to the side of the group, carefully surveying her new travelling companions as they each in turn sized each other up. Nathanial, the court magician, irked her some with his flowery words and gestures, but she put it down to not having been around so many people and for so long for over two decades. She listened to the conversations around her, offering nothing to them. After so many years in the isolation of Torvelt’s mountains, socialising did not come easy to the scarred Tiefling.

Zosimos wondered at the mask and robes Nathaniel wore. She, better than most, understood wanting to hide one’s appearance away from prying eyes. Still, why someone who was constantly surrounded by crowds – a royal court magician, no less – would also seek to conceal themselves so thoroughly intrigued her. Like the brusque half-elven warrior, Zosimos found herself wondering why Nathanial had been assigned to lead them on their perilous quest. She didn’t necessarily agree that the royal bodyguard should have the role instead, but she did find herself pondering on why a mere court magician had been appointed to them. 'Looks can be very deceiving…'

The Tiefling let her astute gaze flicker over her companions. There were those, like herself, who only observed those foolish enough to take up the King’s decree, but there were also those who Zosimos thought might one day cause the band problems. She saw how the minotaur’s lip twitched at the half-eleven warrior's words and the slight tremor in his hands as he distanced himself from her presence. It seemed like her fellow horned beast had a temper lying not so far below the surface and Zosimos wondered what it would take for it to erupt.

There were those among her companions who made Zosimos uneasy too. She had great distrust for fellow magic users; the elven sorceress and Nathanial caused her to tighten her grip on her Warlock’s staff as they spoke. 'Just how powerful are they?' Likewise, though he was gently spoken and took care with his words, the flames the Dragonborn could create set her heart racing. For a split second she could swear she could feel the burning, agonising heat of Hellfire against her scarred cheek before in the next breath it was gone.

The only member of the group who did not give Zosimos pause – or too much, anyway – was the half-elven huntress. Someone who lived in and respected the forests of Torvelt was someone Zosimos could potentially see herself not minding the company of.

Zosimos cleared her throat and turned her gaze back to the lavender-scented court magician. No one had inquired yet as to why they were to start their quest in this Mudshit or about the magician's suspicions. “Why do you think this town you are taking us to is linked to the source of the Fog?”

Fog of Torvelt

Apologies for not making a second post yet. I’ve been rushed off my feet the last few days but I’ll be making one either tonight or tomorrow :)

Edit: Voilà!

Western/Wild West RP (looking for M for M/F)

𝓑 𝓤 𝓜 𝓟

Fog of Torvelt

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Z O S I M O S B L A C K C O I L

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Zosimos eyed the gathering of travellers in the royal court with suspicion from underneath her hooded cloak and nimbly side-stepped any who drew too close to her person. She kept to the back of the hall, sequestering herself in a nook behind a lit torch that was attached to the wall. There she hid in the dancing shadows the flames cast and observed those who came forward to answer the King’s quest – a fool’s quest. Many times, between setting foot inside the royal castle and leaving behind her reclusive life in Torvelt’s mountain forests, Zosimos had questioned her own sanity following her decision to journey to Koprust to embark upon this fool’s quest. As many travellers turned and filtered out of the King’s hall after his wise words of warning, she mused that many shared her thoughts on the matter.

Whilst Zosimos held the Prince no ill will, she did not desire to forfeit her own life in the search for his – and yet, her feet remained rooted to the spot. The very thought of banding together with an assortment of miscreants and would-be heroes had the Tiefling’s pistris-like teeth tingling in her mouth. She watched closely as members of this band stepped forward and wondered what motivated them to do so. For some it seemed it was honour; for others perhaps it was compassion of some kind; and for those like herself, it was the promise of the King’s reward should they succeed.

It was that tendril of faith in this promise and what she would claim from it that finally gave Zosimos the nerve to walk through the remaining members of the Hall towards the King and Queen. She stopped in front of them and lowered her hood. She heard a few gasps and sharp intakes of breath as eyes fell upon her disfigured face and demonic features. Zosimos’s hand tightened on her Warlock’s staff. She gave a small bow to the King and then to the Queen before lifting her eyes – or rather, her one good eye – to meet theirs.

“Zosimos Blackcoil. I pledge my staff in the quest to find your son,” the Tiefling spoke calmly before moving off to follow her fellow companions.

Fog of Torvelt

Zosimos Blackcoil

Image

Z O S I M O S B L A C K C O I L

Do you like what you see? Come closer, sweetling... Why don't you see just how sharp my teeth can be?

_{B A S I C S}

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_NAME
Zosimos Blackcoil

_AGE
44

_RACE
Tiefling

_CLASS
Warlock (Former Druid)

_OCCUPATION
Once a forest guardian of Havenloft, Zosimos now lives a reclusive life in the mountains of Torvelt. She tends to the sick and wounded that manage to find her in exchange for coin, but otherwise has no livelihood and instead lives off the land.

_{ORIGINATES FROM}
Havenloft

_{IF OUTSIDE TORVELT}
The sprawling, ancient forests of Havenloft outside of Torvelt.

_{P H Y S I C A L A T T R I B U T E S}

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_{PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION}
Though once a true Tiefling beauty with porcelain-like skin, tumbling raven locks, invitingly plump dark ruby lips and a generous femine figure, Zosimos’s eerily blood red eyes and large black coiling horns, which give her a height of six foot, have always given her a slightly menacing air. From her Tiefling bloodline, not only did Zosimos inherit her horns but also her retractable claws and her pistris-like teeth. When they are ‘at ease’ they simply look like human nails which have been filed to a sharp point. A smile from her reveals pointier than usual teeth. There are in fact several rows of them, able to be bared and able to clamp down around something or someone viciously should she be attacked.

After the deal that made her a Warlock, the right side of Zosimos’s face was melted by Hellfire and her right eye blinded, giving it a milky sheen. Twisted pink and purple skin now cover was is left of that side of her once beautiful visage.

Zosimos wears hardy dark robes and a black hooded cloak capable of withstanding the weather of the Torvelt mountains and of concealing herself from prying eyes or those who might seek to hurt her. Her body is well muscled from and accustomed to surviving off the land with the bare minimum at her disposal.

_STRENGTHS

• Retractable claws and pistris-like teeth for close quarter combat
• Stamina
• Magic user

_WEAKNESSES

• Armed combat
• Inability to blend into crowds
• Depth perception is compromised (blind in one eye)

_{P S Y C H O L O G I C A L A T T R I B U T E S}

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_PERSONALITY
Hardened - Defensive - Shrewd - Observant - Guileful - Astute - Private - Feeling

_SEXUALITY
Bisexual

_FEARS
- The limitations and differences in her Arcane magic from her Divine magic
- Rejection from even Torvelt
- Betrayal

_GOALS
- A peaceful life tending to the mountain forests of Torvelt
- To regain the ability to summon storms

_{S K I L L S}

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_{RETRACTABLE TEETH AND NAILS}
Zosimos possesses feline-like nails that are tapered to a sharp point and can be used to claw at an attacker, delivery deep gashes. Her teeth, with several jagged rows hidden away behind the first, posses the ability to rip large chunks of flesh away from bone.

_{SURVIVING OFF THE LAND}
Knowledge of edible plants and herbal medicines coupled with experience living in unison alongside the natural world has enabled Zosimos to survive in the remote mountains of Torvelt for many years.

_{CLIMBING AND RAPPELLING}
Surviving in the steep, craggy mountains of Torvelt has meant adapting to the rocky, precipitous terrain. Zosimos is an adept and rapid mountaineer and is able to traverse the many peaks and chasms she encounters.

_{M A G I C}

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_MINDFOG
A spell to cause confusion of the mind. The consciousness at the edges of your vision becomes blurry and tendrils of drowsiness start to seep in. Slowly the world becomes more addled and your purpose is forgotten. Your speech becomes slurred, your movements drunk, and your mind oh so weary. The closer Zosimos is to you, the more strength the spell has.

_SANANDUM
A spell of healing for both plants, animals and the many races of this world. Simple ailments and wounds can be healed with a short touch from her hands, but more grievous wounds where flesh needs to be sewn back together or bones set need longer and take a much more physical toll on Zosimos.

_ONTERPRINH
The ability to communicate with the natural world around her. While not 'word for word', Zosimos can sense the trials and tribulations of forest she resides in.

_{G E A R}

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_{ITEMS ON PERSON}

• Black hooded cloak
• Strong rope

_WEAPONS

• A trailing point dagger
• A Warlock's staff to focus her magic

_{H I S T O R Y}

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Abandoned at birth in the dead of night in the ancient Havenloft forest, a newborn Zosimos survived until the dawn chorus that heralded the next morning broke. She was found by a small order of Druids who acted as peaceful guardians of the forest; tending to the land and the creatures that roamed it, and keeping the balance of nature in check. Zosimos grew up among these Druids and, in time, she too become one. She was granted magic by the Divine Beings of the natural world for her pious servitude: the ability to communicate with the creatures of the earth, the ability to heal, and the ability to summon storms. Zosimos found love in a paramour among her Druid brethren and was content in the peaceful existence she had for many years.

However, this happiness was not to last. Resources found far below the rich soil of Havenloft’s ancient forests were discovered by those who began to destroy large parts of the forest for their own greed and wealth. With parts of the forest burning, parts being blown to the heavens, mountains carved in two and the ecosystem that Zosimos had nurtured for so long dying before her very eyes, Zosimos defied the orders of her elders and sought to cleanse the land of those who sought to bring only destruction and pollution to it. Zosimos summoned up a terrible storm and wiped clean the forest of those who would have sought to harm it. The forest guardians, who followed strict pacifist principles, condemned the young Druid’s actions. After the Divine Beings stripped her of her powers as punishment, Zosimos was exiled from Havenloft by the Druid elders.

Tossed out from all she had ever known, Zosimos found it impossible to assimilate into any new community. Men who sought her out for her beauty were soon dealt a fate where her pistris-like teeth closed around their throats. Such was the violence of these killings, even though Zosimos pleaded they were dealt out in self-defence, that soon mobs assembled themselves to bring her to justice. Zosimos fled into the night, keeping off all roads and avoiding all towns. She lived off the land like she had as a Druid until she happened across a Warlock. He too noticed the Tiefling for her extraordinary beauty – but not in the way she first thought… Exhausted, terror-filled and desperate to once again regain her powers, Zosimos struck a bargain with him: her beauty in exchange for the return of her ability to conjure and control magic.

What Zosimos was not to know was the terrible price she would have to pay. With the deal struck, the Warlock sealed it in blood. He conjured up Hellfire and burned the beauty right off of Zosimos’s face, scaring her horrifically. In the aftermath, where before unsavory people had been drawn to her to use her for their own pleasure or greed, now not a soul looked her in the eye. Her new appearance coupled with her Tiefling features struck fear in all of those who looked upon her. In this fear, danger appeared. Thinking she would harm them, any community Zosimos came across or tried to settle in ran her off.

Thus, Zosimos chose to flee once again. Zosimos traveled to Torvelt and settled in its remote mountain forests. There she lived a quiet and very secluded life, honing her new Arcane magical abilities with the use of her Warlock’s staff and tending to the forest. Occasionally some of the forest’s inhabitants sought her out after hearing tales of her healing abilities, but it was very rare.

Zosimos had been caring for the mountain forests for almost a quarter of the century when she sensed a change in them. There was a staleness to the air, a sickness that permeated the skin of everything it touched. When the Fog fell upon her forest, the mountain tribes sought her out for those afflicted, but the Tiefling held no cure. It was from them she heard of the Prince’s own sickness and disappearance as well as the King’s decree. Zosimos had not intended to travel to Koprust to join the quest to retrieve the Prince, but the promise of a reward that she could name was too tantalising to dismiss. For many years the peoples of Torvelt had been encroaching on the mountains she called home, building more settlements and damaging the landscape as they spread. Zosimos set out for the capital with that hope that by finding the Prince, she could use her reward to protect her home.

Fog of Torvelt

@Jeremor Is it alright if I've not played DnD before?

Fog of Torvelt

@Jeremor Are you still accepting characters?