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Mist City Story: An Urban Fantasy Mage RP

@VitaVitaAR

Haha! I’ve got my two mage rp’s mixed up :o
Sorry 😐

Mist City Story: An Urban Fantasy Mage RP

Ignore

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

I need a 1d6 roll for Ezlan, please. Add +1 to it for your CS score and let me know what the result is.

Good post, by the way!

Unless you feel comfortable with me doing all the rolls, of course.

@One Who Tames

Thanks, and 100% ok for you to do my rolls.
Not even sure how to do them on this site.

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

“Johnny fucking silver tongue” Ezlan says musingly, referencing a popular tavern tale as Eomer, quite skilfully, tried to diffuse the situation. The almost sad desperation of his attempt stripped away any admiration his comrades skillfully placed words might have earned from the Caerbean.

It was going quite well Ezlan thought to himself, not feeling any need to justify himself to Eomer. The room had revealed itself and those of non-importance had left.

While the tension in the air might have been as thick as mud, Ezlan sifted through it with the oblivious ease of a mud demon stalking in its own habitat. While seemingly unaware and unhindered by the way it gripped the room and the breath and hearts of the patrons within, this could not be further from the truth.

Ezlan could feel and almost taste it. He relished in it drawing youth and vitality. It was as electricity to his skin and an insatiable thirst on his tongue. There were micro dilations in his pupils and a slight unnoticeable flare to his nostrils as his body began drawing in extra oxygen to supply his raising heart beat. The sweet nectar of adrenaline now coursing through his veins, like an addict, despite common sense, Ezlan couldn’t help himself. Limits would be pushed and boundaries tested. While he held no hostility, it was fair to say not all shared his demeanour.

All this excitement brought a mighty thirst to his lips, and the good thing about everyone standing with hands at the ready, was now their hands were empty. A situation Ezlan would take full advantage of.

Ezlan’s deduction differed from Eomer, and he truly hoped he was right so he could slap the smug righteousness off his comrades face. He instead took the crippled man beside the Tiefling as Dagston. Not all those of position flaunted their wealth so openly, and most cripples wouldn’t speak up and invite trouble so confidently unless the loyalty and respect of the men around him had long since blunted the burden of fear.

Still he kept the fancy clothed man in the corner of his eye, this man bothered him, swathed in unpredictablity he might act on his own accord. But it was one of the heavily armed and armoured men that Ezlan approached. Not only was the weapon heavy and slow but it was overkill for a bar room fight. Hopefully this meant he would not use it. Still, weapon in hand or not Ezlan liked his opponents to use the heavy swinging style that often accompanied such items. Secondly a man in plate armour would fall to the floor easier and find it more difficult to rise.

Ezlan locked the mans gaze intently, not to intimidate but to study. He wanted to see who he sought confirmation from, who it was he looked up to. The smirk long glued on Ezlan’s lips vanished behind a sudden mug of ale. Swiped from the mans very table right before him, Ezlan turned to side profile to steadily drink deeply while still keeping a ready taunting eye on the beverages rightful owner.

..........

Always the showman Ezlan had picked his opponent carefully. While appearing foolishly unready he was actually quite prepared. His loose pants hiding the tense muscles balancing his unorthodox stance. His torso like a wound spring ready to snap and follow his opponents momentum. While he had the muscles and size to upright oppose most others strength, Ezlan often preferred to not be so predictable.

Play the fool. Misdirect. Redirect. Strike fast and overwhelm.

Should everything go to plan, any attempt to touch or attack Ezlan would be quickly met with equal force and dictate the degree to how hard he put his opponent to the floor. It is then that he would introduce himself.
”Ezlan” he would announce loudly in reply to the cripple while kindly aiding his foe back to his feet. “Son of whore and a fisherman with too much coin.” He would joke at his own expense. Truths hidden and weaveing through his humour as was the case with all great stories.
”as my nervous companion said while placing his lips on your asses.” the next joke hopefully these rough men would appreciate was at Eomers expense. ”we are here to do some guild work in this territory, and as I’m sure you are all aware, preparing for work gives a man a fair thirst. Just as doing, completing or even thinking about it.” he finished his last statement, one that hopefully found mutual agreement, with a self amused chuckle. He would then thank the man who’s drink he stole and offer to buy him the next.

If... IF everything went to plan.

D&D Founded Story Starter - A Path to Immortality

Possibly Interested

The Silent World

Name: Amundr
Age: 32
Nationality: Norweigan
Languages: Icelandic + Norweigan
Height: 6’1
Are they Immune?: No

Profession: Troll Hunter
Attributes
Strength:4
Charisma: -2
Dexterity: 1
Constitution: 2
Wisdom: 0
Intelligence: -1

Skills:
Melee weapons (Str)
Fire arms (Dex)
Driving (Dex)

Personality: Amundr is a kind, friendly giant with a scarily short temper and some anger issues. He’s not great in social circumstances and speaks his mind freely irregardless of who it might offend. He has a dark sense of humour and despite being a bit grim, always perseveres. For all this he is honest and straight forward. A simple man of simple values and virtues, he is all too happy to help those he can.
Present Circumstances:
Theme Song: Jekyll and Hyde

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

“Well ain’t this a sorry looking bunch.” Ezlan loudly muses to himself as he casually enters the nameless tavern with long confident strides.
“Well, let’s just hope the ale is better than the atmosphere.”
The Caerbean had an almost eager excitement in his eyes as he took in the rough riff-raff of the room. His lips rolled into a smirk as he eyed the wooden leg but no tangible jokes were ready to leave his lips, clearly though, they were steadily forming in his mind.

Making his way to the bar Ezlan leant on it as he eyed as much as he could of what was behind it. Curiosity either sated or running dry, Ezlan spun around, facing the room he addressed them all in his well practiced deep and attention demanding voice.
“Any of you happen to be serving, or perhaps be the one to run this fine establishment?” He asked while looking around.

Ezlan got near enough straight to the point, not afraid to draw the attention of the near empty room.

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

:D time to be loud and obnoxious

Wind Riders: Heroes of the Etheric Sea

WIP

Vel ray see en - Vel’rasion
Vull rah she ah Val’ratia
Vel eeh shen-Vel’ęshn
Vull ray shah -Valraisha
Velateria

Lefarian

---

---

Name: Kyle Jet Carver
Race: Human / Val’iéshn
Age: 21

History: Son of the famous Captain Howell Carver head of the Lantanian Mercenaries, a man with ambition and ego to rival that of the Val’iéshn. Perhaps it is because of that strong self belief and the fact he had the skill and wits to back it up, that he was respected by, and fathered a child to a Vel’eshn woman.

While rare, it was not completely unheard of. Rarer was the successful fruit of their union and the birth of Jet. Due to Val’iéshn and human genetic differences, children don’t often make it to birth or survive long after. Jet however not only survived but was also healthy and fully functional. His appearance leans heavily towards his fathers side but his brain activity and reflexes are as sharp as any of his mother’s race. He has a stronger than human immune system, heals a bit quicker and has the second Vel heart.

Personality: Carefree, Arrogant, Cocky, Reckless, Lazy. These are all terms that have been used to describe Jet. But so are daring, brave, kind, selfless, trustworthy and reliable. It all depends what side of him you are on.
Sometimes he can be quiet in contemplative thought, other times he talks a lot and can’t be shut up. A few things undeniable though, he has a short attention span, cares little of others opinions, is sarcastic and gets restless quite easy. This combination often leads to poor choices and quite often trouble.
Core Belief: Kindness, because life is cruel enough.

There is enough sorrow and cruelty in this bleak meaningless existence already, no reason to add to it. It’s just the natural state of things and of people. Pain, suffering, greed, poverty. These are things you just can’t change. But what we can do, all we can do, is leave brief little sparks of brightness here and there during our fleeting, short and meaningless path through this dark unforgiving maze.

There are no second chances in life.

Equipment:

Armour & weapon

The gun, obviously too big for him, is supported by his magic.
The armour, like his ship, contains a source of magic that Jet can draw from, enhancing his limited powers.

Ship: Apophenia.

Hider

Magic: Gravikinesis
Jet’s magic ability is quite weak and limited, however like the Val’iéshn he uses tech to enhance his magical reserves.

The Val’iéshn:

About

Val’iéshn: ’Val-ee-shen’
The Val’iéshn are a humanoid race from a distant small galaxy cluster known as Paledian. Believed to descend from altered human DNA with the purpose of improvement and efficiency, they are a notoriously arrogant and religious race who rarely mingle with others that they consider their lessors.

A small isolated technological warrior race that has advanced and adapted to the poor conditions of all the planets in the system that they call home.

The Paledian system consists of only five planets that unsteadily circle the Vel’ruh and Val’rasia. The twin stars that appear to be slowly splitting or merging.
This cosmic energy emitted from between these stars awakens the dormant magic within their second heart and fills the many mineral rich uninhabitable moons with reservoirs of magic dense materials that they can manipulate.

Those not born near the stars may never learn to manipulate the mystical energies that they give off and possibly won’t awaken their own potential as much of their magic latency develops in their early learning years.

Wind Riders: Heroes of the Etheric Sea

@chukklehed

Yea not to far off, over complicating it with unnecessary law... I’ll simplify things and get something up in the next few days :)