Hellion

A Fine Tale of Adventures [Hellion & Lord Wyron]

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If anything, humans seemed to be a rather predictable lot, along with attachments to a variety of objects that could not or would not have an attachment to them. And while the Goliath admired a warrior who prized a particular weapon, for instance, the weathered mage had a few things that appeared to be near and dear to him. Things that almost seemed trivial to the other, yet what did she care?

Vah’lux nodded in appreciation toward Brennen as she slid the shaft of the hand ax through metal rings that hung on a thick leather belt around her waist. Speaking of admired weapons, the woman couldn't deny the fact that she loved the ax, especially one so well-balanced and fit just right for her style of combat. She may have hailed from a race of pseudo-giants who packed on the muscle through both genetics and physical training, but make no mistake that she was far from a lumbering beast. Heavy, clumsy weapons were never her thing, but a weapon with some weight to it and one that wouldn’t hinder her ability to make swift attacks and counters, was something to cherish for sure.

“You handled yourself well.” The Goliath said as she continued to survey the area, watching as the fires which engulfed at least one pine began to die away. “I noticed the Goblins on my own journey throughout this part of Faerun, especially this far west. I think something may have pushed their numbers this way, but unsure of what.” Vah’lux shook her head. “Most likely greed if you ask me. They are a race of scavengers above all else, and where there are numbers in their ranks, there’s bound to be trouble on the horizon.”

A Fine Tale of Adventures [Hellion & Lord Wyron]

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The fact that the human struggled a bit with the weight of the Goliath’s hand axe wasn’t missed, and it even brought a bit of a smirk to her face watching such a thing. Still, there was a small bit of respect now for the mage, that while Vah’lux assumed differently about the effectiveness of such a man’s martial skills, it was clear that the human at least knew how to swing a weapon without losing it.

The Goliath turned her attention to the remaining Goblin, the one who seemingly was at odds with itself and with the situation at that point. Their comrades were taken down within seconds between both she and the human, and perhaps the creature who now stood shaking and mumbling something in its native tongue would be wiser to simply-

“We have a runner...” Vah’lux said in a matter-of-fact tone, watching as the small being turned-tail and scurried off as quickly as its little legs could carry it. The warrioress jammed the spiked butt-end of her glaive into the ground far enough for it to stand on its own, and with the other hand, reached behind her to slide out another steel javelin from it’s leatherbound quiver. Switching it to her other hand, she shifted her stance, positioning herself to wind back her arm, and held the other out, pointing two fingers toward her target, as she turned her head and aimed down the length of her muscular arm for a moment.

“But hopefully not for long.” And with that, she thrusted her weapon arm forward and released the metal shaft as it once again let out a low whistle through the air, gliding across the clearing, before skewing the Goblin through the back and causing it to immediately collapse and squirm before bleeding out.

Vah’lux sighed as she surveyed the camp. “I assume this was your place?”

Hiya!

Welcome to Guild, @DyingSpark

As for navigating, a lot of it is just exposure over time and getting used to the sections and what they're there for, since it's not a terribly difficult site to get through otherwise.

You shouldn't have a problem finding an RP since there are various genres going on, but also keep in mind that you'll need to practice patience here since some of the larger-scale RPs have a slower pace than others.

In any case, explore and I'm sure you'll figure it all out soon enough.

Our Final Nights: A World of Darkness Roleplay

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North San Vincente Blvd | West Hollywood

The city took on a seemingly different atmosphere this time around. The once vivid colors of endless street-lined billboards and advertisements, storefront neon, and urban-themed murals that covered various buildings all but lost their fervor, coming off rather muted through the eyes of one born into darkness. It wasn’t right though. In fact, everything seemed out of order, and the natural progression of things was in more chaos than the woman remembered. Besides, why would she even be thinking of such trivial matters? Los Angeles had been a place of wonder and beauty, hope and loss, industry and destruction, but from one who walks the jagged line of both the living and the dead, it’s aesthetic becomes a dream in which you never truly awaken. Nicole Stathos found herself standing in the middle of it all and feeling everything at once.

“Hey l-lady, spare some change f-for a Vet?”

The shoeless, frail, bearded man dressed in torn jeans, an Army-green jacket, and stunk of urine and cheap wine watched the woman with curious eyes as she simply stood in the alley peering out across the street toward the West Hollywood substation of the Los Angeles Police Department. Not much had changed in her physical appearance, save for a paler skin tone and hair that had been shaved off grew at an extremely slow pace, if it really grew back at all. The three scars along the side of her face still shown however; a constant reminder of the attackers the night of her embrace.

The woman honestly couldn’t remember just how she had made it back to the city after being alone in the wilderness for almost a week. A “test”, if anything else, to prove to herself and her clanmates -wherever the fuck they were- if she was even cut out to be part of the tribe known as the Gangrel. From what she had learned of the clan, they were outsiders among Kindred society, specifically the Sect known as the Camarilla. “Too much politics, not enough action” was the typical response, and yet Nicole wondered what that meant for her future living in a city supposedly run by vampires. Would those outside of her clan accept her, or moreso, would those loyal to the Gangrel accept her. These and many questions still rattled around in her head, questions that Eva couldn’t possibly answer, and that would only be discovered by existing long enough to uncover the answers herself.

“Change.” Nicole muttered, allowing the word to drift, and turned her attention to the other, who hesitated in even making eye contact with her through scratched eyeglass lenses. There was a shadow of something unsettling growing in the back of the vagrant’s mind. Something just not right with the woman standing only a few feet from him. Why was she there? Who was she? The man had questions, but did any of them really matter?

“Um yeah, I have change.” She said, reaching a pale hand into the front pocket of black jeans that hugged her hips and thighs like a glove, and pulled out a wad of folded bills, mostly tens and twenties, which caused the eyes of the vagrant to widen. She slid a few from the stack and held them out. “Here. Take it.” Nicole smiled, albeit a rather empty one. She didn’t quite care about the money so much though, considering it originally came from the evidence locker prior to the undercover operation she had been on the night of her embrace. It was bribery money for sure, mostly to gain the intel needed. But the whole op was a sham she concluded in her mind. It had all been a wicked setup to lure her -the prey- into the waiting arms of her Sire. A creature who had gone missing, or perhaps was killed, before she even had a chance to learn anything.

Still, a few weeks after the ordeal and a “debrief” by Eva, Nicole was puzzled by the entire existence of vampires. Her upbringing wasn’t necessarily religious in a way that profoundly impacted her, but at the same time, how could one’s mind be open to the possibilities of the supernatural actually existing? The belief that any of this was real still haunted her, and yet if this had been a dream...wouldn't she have awoken already?

“Are you waiting for s-someone?” The vagrant’s inquisitive tone pulled the woman from her brief reverie as she continued to keep focus on the brick police station across the street.

Had she been waiting for someone specific? What caused her first stop since returning to Los Angeles to be the substation she previously worked out of while on undercover assignments? She thought for a moment, even allowing a bit of a chuckle to escape her lips, because her only reason for being there was entirely…human.

“No. Just missed this place.” Nicole finally said, immediately shrugging it off. “Anyway, take care of yourself, buddy.” She gave the man a pat on the back and headed toward Sunset Strip to walk and think...

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The newly minted Gangrel’s main reason for returning to Los Angeles, was of course, to find her Sire, someone of which seemed more like a fairytale than an actual person. While Eva had to release the woman from her charge, she wasn’t going to allow her to wander the Kindred underworld without a plan. Without resources. Without allies in high and low places. The Toreador wore many faces, yet Nicole wondered which one had been for her specifically. She knew the Elder cared, but to what end? Was it pity taken on a neonate who was otherwise lost in a world she didn’t understand? Perhaps the “Masquerade” was a large part of it, as Eva went through much of the history of the Kindred, including the laws that all must abide by. The Gangrel fledgling knew she would be watched, not only by those appointed per Eva’s wishes, but also much of the city, as news traveled fast within the city that never sleeps, and the last thing the Camarilla wanted was a breach of their world.

As long as Nicole kept herself in check, things would presumably go much better in the long run.

If any name was to stick out in her head, it would be Rachel Fields, one of Eva’s closest advisors within her circle of kindred, and apparently someone who could help get the Gangrel woman established somewhere safe, and at least stay out of any unnecessary spotlights for the time being. The meeting place was a club of renown called “The Sunset”, which -according to Eva- would be a good place to start for seeking answers to more sensitive inquiries best kept out of Kine earshot. And as she eventually made it to her destination, not realizing that the place was fashioned into a sort of hotel, and the woman was awestruck by the beautifully crafted classic-meets-modern exterior architecture.

Was this a vampire aesthetic? She mused, and couldn’t help but notice a few well-dressed couples loitering near the hotel lobby entrance, and gazing in her direction. A few with looks of disdain, as though this “newcomer” was in the wrong part of town, but Nicole ignored the stares and whispers while doing her best to casually walk through the ornately decorated glass double doors and into the lobby, where awaiting elevators would take her to the lounge at the top of the building.

Seeing the inside, she realized that the exterior was only an extension of the beauty and classic feel the interior held throughout the entire hotel. It had a warm comfort, yet cold eyes could be felt while she looked around, noticing a fair amount of patrons, most of which were probably frequent visitors. Although thankfully not everyone was “dressed to the nines”, as there were a few noticeably decked out in street clothes, or casual outfits.

Entering into the lounge, Nicole stepped up to the bar and noticed a tall, muscular man speaking to a couple further near the end, and wondered if that was the one Eva had referred to as “Henry Locke”, who was apparently The Sunset’s long-time proprietor. The physical traits seemed to fit the description given, so the woman slipped onto a bar stool and waited, hoping to be able to speak with him and find out where she could find Rachel, because she honestly had no other recourse at that moment.

Hellooo

@Wind Flower Welcome to Guild

A Fine Tale of Adventures [Hellion & Lord Wyron]

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Mages. Conjurors. Wizards. Sorcerers. Spellcasters.

No matter what they referred to themselves as, or what others perceived them to be, only one word came to the Goliath's mind: Trouble-makers. Growing up in a culture where magic and mysticism seemed to be two separate entities, the magic aspect of Faerun was all but lost on many of her kind, and therefore mistrusted and seen as the work of darker spirits. On more than one occasion, Vah’lux herself witnessed such chaotic usage of spells and witchcraft, even a few of her tribe-mates dfelving in such things only to meet a terrible and agonizing end. Some losing their minds, others, being quite literally consumed by spells that were meant to defend, but backfired instead.

The bottom line was that magic was not to be trusted until otherwise proven different. And as the Goliath stood nearby only to see a spark form into a large ball of fire within the palm of the human’s hand, she all but leapt backwards a few meters, caught off guard by the cunning of yet another mage. With glaive at the ready, she watched as the fiery weapon was thrust forward and immediately hit the Goblin assailant nearest to them both. Vah’lux had to quickly remind herself that things were already set in motion, and it would do her no good to allow such prejudices to cloud her focus. At least not at that moment.

Two Goblins flanked the Goliath, one wielding a shortsword of crude iron, and the other a wooden pike fashioned with a rusty spearhead, and seemingly felt as though they were making a poor choice but at the very last moment. Vah’lux shifted her foot and positioned herself to face the attackers, swinging the massive glaive in a forward arc, first slicing through the torso of the sword-wielder, and knocking the other to the ground, before allowing the momentum of the weapon to guide her next action. Vah’lux quickly pivoted slightly, spinning the shaft of the glaive so the tail-end pointed down at the prone Goblin, and with a great force, impaled the creature through the face with the pointed steel tip. It’s lithe frame squirming under the initial pain, followed by muscle spasms, until no movement was left. The other, sliced halfway through it’s torso, bled out into the soil beneath. The Goliath spat toward the corpses, hating the fact that their decomposition would soon contaminate an otherwise beautiful area.

The Goliath pulled the bloodied glaive from the ground and turned to spot two others nearby who seemingly were ready to defend whatever they had left...

Musings n' Dreams

Don't call youself a loser
Because that's not what you are
In my eyes and in my heart,
You're a shining shooting star.

You are perfect and loving,
The flower that always blooms.
Even when you're stuck in dirt,
Your petals gleam amongst the moon.

Don't give up the grueling fight
This is what you've known and done
Don't keep beating on your head,
Strike the pain until you've won.

Don't suffer or be angry
Thank God for this great chance
To show them you don't just sing
But steal the spotlight when you dance.

A Fine Tale of Adventures [Hellion & Lord Wyron]

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The Goliath knew of a river that ran quite the distance toward the Southwest, and since that was the way her travels would take her, she walked for a good distance -wary of the Goblins in the area- until she eventually reached the banks of fresh water. Thirsty, Vah/lux pulled the hide water pouch from her belt to refill before continuing her journey along the river, gripping the javelin in one hand, which can also double as a close-combat weapon should the need arise.

Her weapon of choice, however, has always been, and will alway be, the large glaive strapped to her back, one which was taken as almost a “trophy”, from her Orc captor many months prior. She had, since then fashioned the polearm to suit her aesthetic, carving into the hardwood handle, ancient symbols of her people, tribe, and culture, as well as fashioning feathers together from sacred birds, and hanging them just under where the massive blade attached. Vah’lux had wondered quite often why she’d kept such a reminder of her many years in captivity under the mud and shit covered heel of the Orcs, yet she could think of no other reason as simply a reminder of victory against oppression. Never again would she allow herself to be taken prisoner. At least, not alive.

The smell of burning wood caught the Goliath’s attention as the winds shifted toward her, and while that isn’t an unusual scent to be carried through the air considering plenty of intelligent creatures through the wilderness may build fires for cooking or warmth, what wasn’t typical was using the wood of the great pines, as it can be toxic to ingest and quite messy. So, one of two things were happening, perhaps: A camp had no other choice of kindling, or-

And just then, Vah’lux could see the thick, black plumage of smoke atop the tree line ahead, which most likely meant one or more of the pines had caught fire.

“V`harsoth” She spat the curse in her native tongue, immediately assuming that the various Goblin bands she had been seeing were most likely responsible for the destruction of nature. Creatures such as they were conniving, created only for nefarious purposes, and the Goliath despised them just as much as Orcs.

As she drew closer, the fire could be seen through the dense forest, and the Goblin’s guttural voices echoed from afar. A few could be seen running down to the nearby river, scooping up water with makeshift items and even the flipside of their shields, only to hustle back up the incline and disappear behind the trees. Using the bit of shadow cast from the forest, she moved up toward the thick, shady areas, keeping behind shrubs and trees as she crept closer to what appeared to be an encampment, and several Goblins scurrying about. Vah’lux also noticed something, or *someone* sat down and propped against a tree, with another Goblin a few feet away barking out something to the others as well as keeping an eye on its captive.

Human? She assumed based on the figure’s body proportions as she crept that much closer, and did her best to avoid direct inhalation of the smoke that was building. The Goblin looming over the captive shot a glance toward her direction, and the Goliath stopped, hoping that her natural slate-colored skin and earthy hide armor would keep her position secret for the time being. And that it did, as the creature turned away and toward the tree fire that the others were tending to.

With a sigh, Vah’lux wondered why she was getting herself into this mess in the first place. This wasn’t her fight, per se, and she could be off carving her own path through Faerun. But the Goliath, as stubborn as they could be, were also a culture who had a heart to assist those in need, sometimes whether they deserved it or not. And with that, she circled around until she was out of the Goblin’s line of sight, and crept ever-so-closer to her target.

Human indeed, or perhaps an Elf? It was hard to tell from the vantage point, but regardless, the person was clearly tied to the base of the tree as the Goblins decided to have their way with his camp. This wouldn’t do at all.

Vah’lux pulled back her muscled arm, javelin balanced in her hand, and closed an eye to gauge distance before thrusting the weapon forward and letting it fly through the air with the force of a hurricane behind it. The metallic spear emitted a low whistle as it cut through a few low hanging branches before skewing clean through the side of the Goblin’s odd-shaped skull, and sending its small frame soaring a few meters across the grassy landscape before the sharp tip of the javelin embedded itself into the trunk of a nearby spruce. The Goblin’s body dangled lifelessly.

Vah’lux ran up to the stranger who had been tied to the tree, knelt down next to him, and pulled out her hand ax to slice the ropes.

“U’hrs ghorth” She said to the other, quickly realizing this one most likely did not speak her language. “Do not move.” Her words seamlessly switched to the common tongue, with still the hint of an underlying accent.

“Are you hurt?” She finally said, after a few moments of cutting through the bindings until the stranger’s wrists were free. At that moment, however, the shrieking of the Goblin’s filthy language echoed from across the clearing. A few of the ones putting out the tree fire had turned and noticed the Goliath, and they were not happy. One even let off a barrage of exclamatory comments after witnessing the death of their supposed leader.

“Can you fight?” The Goliath gazed at the other with large emerald eyes that almost seemed to glow in the light of the fire. She cocked her head slightly, awaiting an answer, however, at that moment a half dozen Goblin soldiers armed with various melee weapons and shields bounded toward the two of them.

“By Kavaki, I certainly hope you can.” She said with a sigh as she stood to her feet, towering over the human, and passed him her ax which would most likely require two-hands to wield.

With almost the same fluid motion, Vah’lux reached around to the Glaive strapped to her back, and with flick of her wrist, released the hook and swung the six foot weapon around to her front before holding with both hands into a ready position.

Salutations!

Welcome to Guild

A Fine Tale of Adventures [Hellion & Lord Wyron]

The freshly sharpened tip of the steel javelin caught a small yellow-orange ray of morning sun as the hunter nestled between a pair of tall, hollowed-out tree trucks. The sunlight hadn’t quite reached the entirety of the vast landscape, and the massive trees of the forest gave just enough shadowy cover to keep the Goliath hidden from all but the most keen of vision. It was time to hunt, and this part of the region of Faerun was known for its wild boar, elk, and various vegetation, unspoiled by the age of industry as the wilderness itself continued to thrive. The large frame of the tribe-woman stood as still and silent as was possible, and a muscular arm held the short, spear-like weapon at the ready, awaiting the small boar to make its way into the kill zone.

Vah’lux learned much about patience when it came to the hunt, taking what she had been taught all those many years ago and building upon it, especially as a lone hunter. Too long had she been separated from her people. Too long had she dwelled in lands not her own. But if there was anything that could be said of the great race of pseudo-giants that hailed from the mountainous Northern reaches of Faerun, it was their survivalistic instinct. But, until she is one again reunited with her great tribe, surviving in the unknown regions is her only recourse.

Her emerald eyes darted to movement several meters ahead, and her hand gripped the javelin as she knew this would have to be the creature she’d tracked earlier. The wild boar were quite large in this part, one which could provide food for at least a few days, or even a week if rationed out properly. However, a Goliath’s metabolism is quite extraordinary at times, that such a beast may only be sufficient for a day or two. Either way, Vah’lux was hungry as her stomach enjoyed reminding her throughout the early morning hours.

There it was, the boar! And with her weapon at the ready, Vah’lux was just about to thrust her arm forward and release the steel javelin so it may fly through the air, fast and true, toward it’s target. But wait. What is this? Someone or something had spooked the animal enough for it to flee for its life, and Vah’lux, irritated by the sudden interruption, allowed a frustrated sigh to escape through her lips and nostrils. This wasn’t right. This was supposed to be her kill, not that of another. But, as it turned out, the short strangers paid no heed to the boar as they marched through the dense trees up ahead, with makeshift spears, wooden shields, crude swords, and a nasty disposition backed by distinct snarling and bickering that reminded the Goliath of a particularly sly and disgusting creature.

“Goblins.” She muttered under her breath, stepping back behind the old tree trunks to be fully engulfed by their shadows, while maintaining a clear visual on the band of mischief-makers as they continued their trek past her hunting spot and toward the south. Vah’lux had seen a few smaller groups of Goblins over the past week, gathering in various spots along her travels, and the few times they spotted her, their first instinct was to steer clear of the “giant woman”, which most likely kept them alive a day longer.

But the Goliath let them pass. She had no quarrel with them, nor did she intend to start one. She herself was enough of a stranger in a strange land, and at the moment, food was about the only thing on her mind.