LadyRunic

Blood's Jewels (High Casual Fantasy Revolution)

@eclecticwitch Giving a slight nudge to remind!

To Claim a Starting World

@Omni5876 You would be right in assuming they have most likely seen him around at least if they haven't outright talked to him. And If you could hold off I hope to have a post up by tomorrow. I've come down with a blistering headache so that has tossed a wrench in my plans, unfortunately.

To Claim a Starting World

I'm putting it here and then if you have any questions I'll edit in anything I missed and toss it in a People of Note (NPC) post in the character tab. I may also add people if I need to note anyone else.

Village of Norn;
Headsman Vosker; A fairly average man in his late thirties. Brown hair and eyes, a rugged face and though he dresses well, he does get his hands dirty with work and hunting. Has a reputation as a fair and competent headsman of the small village. But with such a reputation comes the fact he is often concerned with the future and is often worrying over things.
Yarra; Vosker's wife. A portly woman in her mid-thirties, her hair was blonde but now it turns towards darker colors due to age. Her eyes are tired grey. Mother to four children and wife to the headsman, she is often the woman other women will go to if they are looking for news on the quiet or there is something hush hush going about the village.

Hod; The smith of Norn. He does good work and apprenticed down by the coast when he was a boy but enjoys the quiet life in Norn. he doesn't talk much about his past though many think the tall, bald man with his tattoos was once a raider. Looking to be in his mid-thirties, he is married to Jetamio and they have one young son.
Jetamio; Blonde, blue-eyed and sweet as spring. She is in her early twenties. Her people were from the neighboring village Laettir, there is no secret that the couple tried to live there (Hod leaving Norn to appease Jetamio) before they moved to Norn. Nor that the reason was Jetamio's mother who badgered at Hod until Jetamio-heavily pregnant declared they were leaving and left with only what she could carry. It's a well-told story and often joked upon.
Tholan; Three years old, blond hair and black eyes. He's a bubbly baby and one that Gwendolyn and her father delivered. Born during the spring.

Garin; The wiseman and healer of Norn. He also works as a wiseman for several other smaller villages. Adopted father of Gwendolyn, he named her the uncanny name for a Southern woman he met simply because he liked the sound of it. Not keen on taking charity and serious in his work as the local commune with the spirits, he often finds himself comforting Vosker that everything will sort itself out.

Lutter; A man in his mid-twenties and often drinks. His parents lived in an unhappy marriage til a fire burn down their cottage killing them and Lutter's little sister ten years ago. Since then he took to drinking and hunting to support the habit. He often hangs out with a group of other young men who are locally known 'lay-a-bouts'. Dark brown hair and dark brown eyes as are common in Norn.

Frenn; The man who runs the mead hall. An older man in his late forties. His wife, Iza died over the past winter of old age. He insists he is fine, though he often drinks.
Dallen; Frenn's oldest son who looks like many of the villagers, he is married to Yvenna and helps his father and sister run the mead hall. Well built man in his Early thirties. Though he was known for an even temper it has been getting worse over the years.
Yvenna; The blond-haired siren in her late twenties. Cousin to Jetamio. She is the local flirt and there's an uncomfortable marriage between her and Dallen as many of the men in the village make a pass at the woman. Rumor is that Dallen's children are not his.
Seyja; a young girl of about seven years. Blond hair and brown eyes. Bubbly child.
Gunnar; A burly young boy of nine who is the son of Dallen and Yvenna. Brown hair and eyes and he is large for his age.
Oskar; A boy of about eleven who is the firstborn of Dallen and Yvenna. He has blonde hair and brown eyes and is often slipping away to hunt.
Ryska; Frenn's oldest daughter who returned home when her husband was killed by a bear. Brown hair and eyes, a large woman who is very foul-tempered and often fights with Yvenna. She is in her mid-thirties.
Wersk; Ryska's son. Black of eye and brown of hair. He is close to his mid-teens. He has his mother's temper and is often a bully and encourages Oskar to follow his example along with his brothers.
Skal; Two years younger than Wersk, Skal is brown of hair and eye. He is just as sadistic as his brother though he is far better at hiding it and being charming.
Durin; The third son of Ryska who is about seven. He looks like his brother and often sneaks off to follow them.
Alven; The youngest of Ryska's sons. He is five and was born shortly after his father's death. He is picked on horribly by his brothers and often seeks out Yvenna.

Ottar; Father of Bauld and husband of Drega. Brown hair and eye. He inherited the farm from his father and married Drega. They had another son, but he left to go west and join the raids on the strange Southern. Ottar does not speak of him and his bitterness about it is well known.
Drega; Brown of hair and eye and of average height. She is a cousin of Yarra and a weaver. Very kind woman and stubborn.
Bauld; Young village guard, who works for coin to secretly buy presents for a girl he is sweet on in town.

Kettil; A older man who often traps a line in the area and sells charms come market day. He is well known to Arn for his being a kind man who likes to talk about the hunting and often has jobs for the large man to do in the area. With his head going bald in patches, he is not handsome in the slightest and lives on the edge of Norn.

A giant List of Ideas and Potential Stories [High-Casual to Advance] [18+]

Boop

To Claim a Starting World

Planning on a reply tomorrow or the day after that! I should also have a decent list of general people in the town (tavern owner, headman, smith, etc.).

Blood's Jewels (High Casual Fantasy Revolution)

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Arc I - Terreille in Trouble

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Location: Winton

With the many conversations going on in the small room, Gen was slightly concerned that Sybl would pick up something to report. But the Warlord Prince seemed entirely enthralled by Fatima. Even offering to buy Dareen a dress, something the Eyrien suspected was most likely not appreciated by the warrior witch. Though this Sybl quickly backtracked in making the offer that of a smithy. Oh, that was grand. Put the idea of a sword or some knife in their little Queen's hands. As if she wasn't a handful as it was. Though to be fair, Fatima was an enjoyable handful of a headstrong Queen and she was playing this man like a fiddle.

Looking sideways at his brother, Denvar gave a slight shrug. He could fit in with the populace better while playing the hulking bodyguard. "I will come along, if the Lady doesn't mind the company. My brother ought to stay here and make sure everything remains to the Lady's taste." The Warlord Prince in Denvar snarled at Sybl's bold interest in the tiny Queen. "After all, her will is my life." Words of complete surrender to Fatima that caught the eavesdropping Faeril and Gennar by surprise. Denvar had certainly not felt the pull towards Fatima, but he would embrace her will anyways. But beneath those words was a private challenge and warning to the other Warlord Prince. Fatima's will was his life and if anything funny happen there would be one seriously angry Eyrien to contend with.

Gen shoved off the wall and leaned towards Dareen slightly. "Go with them. Another woman there of your caliber will throw off the town and right now we want that. Jandar hopefully will take the opportunity to join you." The man's tone was low and he shrugged slightly. "We are going to work on finding that devil of a Warlord Prince who we need." He noted absently, not really explaining who the 'we' was. But as he left Dareen in his wake, he nudged Mikhail slightly and gave a slight nod up the stairs. "We ought to get to work on the requirements."

Sybl himself would know of a lovely dress shop, it's owner had done very good business for the Aristocrats. Linda was nothing short of a miracle worker of a tailor with her dresses that echoed the latest fashions she could find, and her shop was filled with the bright light of the day. Excellent for showing off the fine wares. But there was grime in the corners of the windows, her dresses on the floor were just a little bit less exhaulted as they normally were, and Linda herself looked nervously about as she went from gown to gown. It was hardly busy, in fact no one was in the shop. Most of the Aristocrats of Winton had Linda come to them, and it was the good fortune that she was indemand that kept the woman safe. Standing at a respectable height, her curly blond hair was tamed, barely, in a thick plait at the back of her head. A bit of a rounder frame set in a well made and worn blue dress matched her cheerful face that held a bit of worry. If the group travelled there, the woman looked up sharply. Startled by the sudden appearance of actual customers in her shop. "Well, now. Prince Sybl... You've brought some guests. What can I help you with?" The woman's accent was thick as she dipped a slight curtsy. "I've just got some lovely new fabric in..." She offered.

To Claim a Starting World

@Omni5876 I can create a rough list of characters about the town and such beside the generic that I flesh out as you interact with them. It will take some time, however. A day or two is my guess and I may add to it.

To Claim a Starting World

@Cyrania Not a problem, but read thoroughly. It's why I suggested reading throughly. After all its been 12 days since Luther was attacked. The wiseman/ your father is supposed to have a reply for the chief in 2 days.

To Claim a Starting World

@Omni5876 If you aren't sure? Ask. That would be the best advice I can give. As for how much freedom you have with NPCs and the world, you'd be generally alright but the one thing I would ask a GM would that if you do need something more than a generic conversation with a NPC or need a description of an area just shoot me a @ or a PM and we can collaborate on it. Just so people aren't Roleplaying with themselves. I'm usually on RPG every day and even if I don't reply I have seen what questions people ask. I may just be thinking hard on it is all. After all, I'd rather give a thorough answer than a half-baked one.

To Claim a Starting World

The streets were near-deserted with the odd child returning from gatherings eggs having found the night restless or found themselves unable to sleep with the promise of a sunny day. The summer was shorter in the North and the children delighted in being able to go about and explore before the snow cloistered them within the walls. As Gwendylon moved the small hut she shared with her father oddly early, the old man moved about on his cot. The rustle of furs marking the man's reluctance to wake to the dawn. It had been twelve days since Lutter had stumbled into the mead hall cursing about some strange beast and bearing wounds that could have cost the man his life if he had not been so quick to get away or the creature so lacking the care to kill him. Sitting up he watched the daughter he had adopted gather the bandages made of rough cloth from the wool of sheep. Stew was already cooking and the hut was swept. "You are oddly eager this morning, and to tend wounds without being called upon?" The wiseman of the village was growing older and he was happy for these brief days of summer even as the chill was a warning that harvest would soon be upon them. Was his daughter perhaps interested in a man? It would be good for the woman to take a husband and teach her children the craft of healing. But of all the men in the village, he had little idea as to who could use bandages aside from Lutter, and he hoped he was mistaken. The hunter was a decent enough man, but older and foolish. Gwendolyn could do far better. Perhaps he had best speak upon it?

He thought as she hurried to the door seemingly unaware of his presence or the early hour. "If you do rush off, daughter, perhaps bring this man you are so interested to dine?" Or would she be home at all, she had made the stew ridiculously early. By the time they would have sat down to a hearty dinner it would be well cooked! "And, perhaps this is not my place to say, but you could do well to find a man well worth your talents and with as quick of a mind." He hoped the little barb would aid his obviously smitten daughter against her apparent infatuation of Lutter. The man was old enough to have been a young hunter when Gwendolyn had been found lost and wandering the forests. Sighing slightly, the wiseman shrugged. He had problems aplenty it seemed. A strange beast roaming the forests and now a daughter smitten with a fool. He sincerely hoped it was an old man's wants for his daughter to find happiness.

The street outside the village was slow to rise. The odd hunter slipping from their home to walk along the road or wander amongst the houses towards the slowly lightening forest. Children either gathering eggs or seeing older brothers off on their hunt and sisters off to collect the herbs and berries that were growing in these happy months. It was picturesque just about, thought the headman. Who continued whittling before a blackbird crooned about his head in the most terrifying way. Was it a bad omen? Was some malicious spirit within his hearth? Looking up sharply and with a matching intake of breath at that shadowy apparition before him. Was this a woman of death come to whisk him away? But no, as the woman lowered her hood to show a face of great age the headman relaxed. A stout fellow, he was given to worry and the lines on his face shouted such for all to see. His beard was a tangle of grey and red hairs as much as from stress as from age. Studying the strange Mira, he grimaced slightly. How had a stranger gotten within Norn without being challenged by the sentries?! But he could see her countenance and found himself agreeing. It would be unwise to stand in the way of such a crone. For with the dim light, Mira looked far older than she appeared.

"Tavern, inn." He replied foolishly and found himself frowning. "You look from the North but speak as though you were from the Southern Kingdoms. The mead hall," He put emphasis on the words, belying his dislike of the Southern term. "Is right over yonder." He gestured with the hand not holding the knife, for to gesture with the knife would have been rude and perhaps invite a threat towards the woman when he meant none. If his gesture was followed the large building was indeed just a stone throw from the headman's own home. It's walls carved with curious stories from the mythology of the village. The gods in their ceaseless battles as was told throughout the North. Lutter could be seen past out under the eaves of the roof, his injuries healing well and would be better if he didn't try to regale the whole town every night. The stories were growing more fearsome and far-fetched by the night and the headsman was growing more curious if such a creature truly existed at all. Something had been raiding their flocks, but Lutter could have gotten in a fight he well knew was foolish. The steady roar of fire from the smithy interrupted the conversation as the smith blew the coals into life once more. "Does your son come for the market? You are but two days early if such is the case." He offered, curious as to why the older woman was indeed there.

Across the village, however, the headsman was not wrong as to why Mira was allowed to pass unchallenged. The sentries had seen the woman and found themselves valuing their lives. For while a witch would not cost them their lives, she could well cause other horrid things to happen. Bauld was a fearsome looking young man who would have rather been hunting than watching the road and treelines in hopes the game would come to him. The only reason he had agreed to such a duty was the fact his father's sheep had been one of the groups preyed upon and with a bad lambing year in the spring they could ill afford to lose more of the prized animals. His mother, Drega, spun their wool and wove it into cloth they traded with their neighbors and even donated cloth to Garin, the wiseman and healer of the village. Garin, the stubborn fool had paid for the gift despite himself, not wanting to take charity. Sighing, Bauld leaned on his spear then stood up straighter as a lumbering giant bear came from the forest and down the road. Only it was not a bear. After taking a second harder look he relaxed only slightly. The massive man dressed in a way that matched the folk who lived far to the North in their small tribes with their spirit and animal totems.

"You are back with a good catch it seems! The market is in two days, and there is a Southern trader. He would pay well for good hides." The young man noted as the giant of a man paused in they dying torchlight as Bauldr remembered it and snuffed the useless object. The light was enough as it was to see and there was little reason to waste the torch. "Been attacks in the woods and on our herds by some strange spirit." While the strange bear, literally, of a man had not been about the villages in a while he had come often enough for Bauld to feel easy letting him pass without challenge. For a large as the man was, he was known to the village and Bauld remembered his mother taking pity on the giant. Often buying his furs rather than paying any attention to the ones Bauld brought home. It had stung his pride, but his mother had pointed out sternly that he had everything he needed. The strange traveller only stopped by so often and was nearly mute by his own will. Drega had far too large a heart, she couldn't even let a runt die as would be useful but a small flock of motherless, small, or abandoned sheep kept a solemn company about their hut. His father had tried to butcher one only once, his mother had dumped their supper in with the pigs' and had decreed that she would rather sleep with the sheep than the man she had married. She had too, and his father had never brought up the topic again.