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Terrenum: The Great War (Fantasy/Realistic/Dice - Recruiting Applicants)

While it’s fair to say that Ezlan perceives all woman as a different creature unto themselves, this is not true for all races. Tiefling, Tiefling are a hard exemption to this exception.
Upon the sight of those horns and tail, an old wound tingles with un-fond memories. Autonomously his fingers find their way to it and trail along the old raised scar tissue. Dancing gently and slowly as if to try sooth the history. They trace it along its long journey across his upper left hip, just below his ribs as it reaches around ever so violently towards his back. Amongst all the others, this scar sits prominently on his body, the healed flesh long since faded, still sitting like a wide river through his skin.
While Ezlan might be a man of reckless pursuits, danger, adrenaline and adventure, this is one he could go without living through again.

“Ah’righ gang, we got our orders, let’s reconvene at the Drunken Huntsman. I should probably go ‘n’ get dressed.”

As usual Ezlan spoke boisterously and with that ever present smug confidence. He gave his comrades a half-hearted sarcastic salute and then disappeared down the halls whistling as his bare feet slapped along the cold floors.
They had no reason to meet back up or start their journey at a tavern, but then again, when in all of history did a caerbean ever need one.

Terrenum: The Great War (Fantasy/Realistic/Dice - Recruiting Applicants)

@Moskau Spieluhr quarter Orc at best :p

White Gull [Fairy Tail Spinoff ~ still accepting!]

He had been sitting there, listening to the back n forth, and enduring the painstaking drudgery of the silences in between, for what seemed like forever.... it went on and on for ages but nothing was happening, they were all lost and clueless, there was no guidance, no direction, no action! First Arden fidgeted on the spot, growing restless, then he paced back and forth as he grew even more in nervous anticipation. Finally it was enough.

With a sudden explosive roar he disappeared into the forest in a fearsome blur. His voice softening as it trailed off in the distance. He wasn’t sure where he was going but he wasn’t sitting still anymore.

Terrenum: The Great War (Fantasy/Realistic/Dice - Recruiting Applicants)

E Z L A N
At the guild

Ezlan, not one to usually follow orders, slowly made his way back towards the door in his own time. A poor compromise at best. Meanwhile he began to hold his own growing opinions and questions of his guild mates standings as things continued to proceed. He could feel the early tell tale signs of tension and the likely hood for confrontation forming as his own disdain began to surface.

He didn’t know how to act around a lady of such position and power, she was not like the usual rabble he would engage with. This uncertain territory both excited and terrified him. He cared little for the details of their task or the others concerns. He would happily oblige and fumble his way through it best he could, what did occur to him was the fleeting moment soon to pass for him to make an impression, time that was steadily getting consumed by his lousy comrades greed.

“Eh, good lady and the guild will be true to their word and as always.” He boldly interrupts. “if you come back I’m sure our esteemed leader will make sure you are fairly compensated.” Ezlan ensures Eomer, something subtle and sinister slipping into his voice as he places a heavy hand on the mans shoulder and gestures to the lady sitting across from them.
“Now have some faith and pride brother. You are a guild member of the great shield brethren not some desperate lowly sell sword.”
The words, actions and pride within them, while exaggerated, at least sounded good and true. An almost quite believable display.

“Now, my lady, onto more pressing matters...” Ezlan says, moving from Eomer, simultaneously disregarding him and his business. A seriousness took his face, his brows furrowing and eyes growing dark as he leant over the desk, his weight pouring heavily into his hands.
“Now, you can’t really rely on that elf for authentication. He’d lose his legs on the mere fumes and we’d be none the wiser.” He proclaims.
“But yourself.” ... Ezlan pauses in contemplation as he stands back up and eyes the guild master. Quickly looking her over, he brings a hand to his chin as if to pronounce his thoughts. In a deep rough decided voice he announces his findings. “hmm I bet you know your way around a drink, maybe two if there’s more meat to those bones than apparent” He teased, slyly trying to bait her before continuing on. “But alas words alone can not take the place of experience, it would be a much more educational learning if you would allow me to accompany you with it.”

A wide flashy confident grin would be the last she saw of his face, for now at least. Knowing when to quit, argument made, he didn’t wait for a rebuttal. Suddenly Ezlan had spun on the spot and was halfway out the door. Moving quite nimbly for a large man. “When I return.” He called back over his shoulder as he went to watch the growing confrontation in the main hall. Never looking back.

While others sought to de-escalate the situation, Ezlan could only watch on with hopes and desires for the exact opposite. He searched the situation madly for any chance, opportunity or reason for it to become otherwise.

Terrenum: The Great War (Fantasy/Realistic/Dice - Recruiting Applicants)

E Z L A N
At the guild

As he was told to remain silent, Ezlan gave an exaggerated surprised and slightly insulted look, pretending not to understand why he had been singled out or the reasons for it. Of course it was a ruse, he surely did and was proud of his reputation. He followed the lie with a playful chuckle and a teasingly wide smile. Now turning his attention around him to his new comrades he looked over them all quite quickly and slightly dismissively. With a slightly harder-than-necessary nudge Ezlan elbowed Loran and whispered “Was a pretty big guy but recon I could take ‘im.” And gives a confident nod as they waited at the last door.

...

Ezlan had strongly considered the runners advice, he wanted to obey her, he truly did, but as the doors shut behind them and his eyes ran over the room taking everything in, he saw so much temptation and desire that it became painfully obvious that it was never going to happen, it just wasn’t even an option. It simply was not within his power.

The gamble ahead was of one too great to pass up. The risks just didn’t nearly compare to the reward, let alone the excitement of the challenge itself. How could he patiently ignore an opportunity like this. He felt it deep within his bones, the excitement of challenges which if overcome would offer stories and endless boasting for the rest of his lifetime.

After all, what harm could come from trying? Right?’.

For this, any reason or restraint was lost. thoroughly washed far from his mind. It was a gamble he couldn’t afford not to play. With a daring glee in his eyes, across his lips grew the most devilish and charming grin he could ever muster.

As the old woman spoke, Ezlan subtly moved around the room.
“Terrible thing that at Iron Harbour.” He said loosely in agreement as he listened in. By the time she had finished talking Ezlan was musing over the locked glass pained cabinet.
“That’s an Ill’ean spiced rum” he said slightly surprised and impressed, turning back to face the Guild Master. “If I’m not mistaken.” He added in, looking for that sense of knowing pride in her eyes, keenly judging her expression.
Of course he wasn’t mistaken, if there was one thing Ezlan knew it was his alcohol.

“Nearly lost me arm trying to get a hold of one. Would have been worth the trade too if it hadn’t turned out to be a poor knockoff no better than donkeys piss.” The disappointment of those memories slipped into his voice, he turned back to the cabinet and tested the latch, gently rattling it.
“They say the spices come from the isles of elves, ‘Tredegar’ I believe, that is if it’s truly authentic. Do you know how to tell if if it’s the real deal?” He asked playfully, clearly setting up a punch line as he turned back around once again. His eyes deliberately catching her near empty glass and reminding her of it as he awaited a reply.

|| The School of Death ||

Who is still around?

Terrenum: The Great War (Fantasy/Realistic/Dice - Recruiting Applicants)

E Z L A N
At the guild

---

The coincidences of life n fate.

Ezlan, bare foot and chested casually stroll into the main guild hall, shoving the main doors open wide with a fierce bravado and gusto as he entered. His movements were very aloof and without any urgency at all. He carried with him an air of confident surety often reserved only for those in positions of power, the elite and important, those otherwise considered untouchable.
Having found an apple on a nearby table, ignoring the current bite missing from it or the ownership therefore implied, he threw it into the air a couple of times, bouncing it in his hand before crunching deep into it, the juices running over his swollen lip and down his bearded chin as he carelessly devoured it, core and all.

Meanwhile a few rooms away, with dishevelled burgundy hair and in ruffled twisted leathers, the runner was slouched over herself hurriedly re-lacing her boots. It was considered improper of her not to be present at her wards arrival. As a long standing guild member she prided herself on her service and contributions to the guild that literally saved her life. Failing this frustrated her, a frustration that steadily grew and was aimed at Ezlan.

“Where’s the old salt hiding?” Ezlan called out aloud to some passers by, only swallowing the last of his food after he spoke.
“The guild master.” He quickly added after realising their confusion. He had not been away from the sea for long, and had been at the guild for even less, since then he had been finding language and mannerisms that he needed to adjust, customs that needed to be learnt, but for most parts it was something he cared little for. Fitting in was never really his thing.

Never having received a formal summons to the guild before, Ezlan looked around for someone he might recognise. Although to be fair, due to lifestyle choices, unless there was a big breasted guild member, Ezlan was more likely to find a familiar face at the local brothel or tavern over his own guild hall. This was not a representation of his loyalties (or lack of), but rather an indicator of how he’d rather spend his free time.

Spending as little time at the guild as possible also had helped ensure the longevity of his relationship and membership. It was a sign of value and respect that he had kept away.
Even a dog knows not to defecate where he sleeps. Or as the Caerbean commonly say, ‘Don’t soil your own nest.’

So his time had been spent exploring and getting to know his new city. To him this was truly a wonderful town, it still held that new undiscovered excitement that came with the unknown. Much wonder was hidden down the old and shabby streets, he was still finding many new holes to drink at and fill...
He was a sailor after all, a Caerbean of high ego and low standards.

With an eager excitement in his eyes, he wondered upon what new adventures and challenging dangers may unfurl from this highly mysterious meeting. Only time would tell.

Celestial Bonds

*bump* I’m looking for a keen partner! :)

Terrenum: The Great War (Fantasy/Realistic/Dice - Recruiting Applicants)

I might make a local guild post later today. Just a short one of him loafing about.

Edit: Turned out a bit longer than planned. But I’m at the guildhall if anyone wants to interact.

Terrenum: The Great War (Fantasy/Realistic/Dice - Recruiting Applicants)

Just a quick curiosity, I’ve seen ‘pens’ but assumed we would still be at ‘ink and quill’?