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5 yrs ago
Current What lies in the hearts of the drae if not madness? - Ma'doc
5 yrs ago
Replies will be coming out in a few days. Been down sick.
5 yrs ago
"Fly you fools!"
3 likes
6 yrs ago
To everyone waiting on replies. They most likely will be out tomorrow or Saterday. I need to get a part for my computer!
1 like
6 yrs ago
Sorry if replies are a bit slow. Dealing with a headache.
4 likes

Bio

Hello! I'm LadyRunic! But you knew that...

I love most types of Role Play, but by far my favorites are those that are well thought out and worked with. Especially when you can find a group you can work well with. I love books- So many books. It's a running bet that I will become buried under a pile of said objects one day... I'm a tad busy, and when an Rp really catches my interest I'm inpatient for posts. It's like reading a good book and getting stuck on a cliff hanger.

You can generally expect posts regularly once a week if not more.

I've RP'd for the better part of fourteen years, so I can honestly say I have some experience and I've developed the understanding of what I expect of a partner in a one-on-one or a group. I'm also the sort who will speak up and point out something if it looks off or forms a problem to me. I spent most of a year once stuck in a Voice Chat Rp that was hell on Earth, so I'm straight forward when I need to say something. I expect this in return from my Rpers and DMs. I want to improve my writing and love constructive criticism.

Most Recent Posts

Here as well!
Bump
@CyraniaFixed it up. Sorry about that!
The wolf-creature watched Arn as the large man approached. Snarling and growling like any cornered wolf who was stuck in a trap. Though this was a trap not of Arn's making, but one of an injury caused by man. As Arn spoke softly the wolf creature quieted. Almost as if it were listening to the words, though Arn could see the eyes held no real recognition for the words. As Gwendolyn mimicked Arn's movements the being's growl grew louder, too many people around this creature could well spark a defensive attack. Minutes ticked by and the growls softened to whines of pain. The blood was seeping across the ground and it was likely the arrow had come very close to hitting something vital. Gwendolyn's knowledge of healing would tell her that if it had hit one of the large arteries then this creature, running and crashing through the brush, would already be dead. Bled out and laying motionless on the ground.

Finally, the wolf-human lowered their body to the ground. Weakness overcoming them, Arn would see the lack of curves that would denote the creature as male. The arms well-muscled under the pelts of wolves, the body toned from hunting. Scars marked what of the human skin, Arn could see of the man-wolf. Yet, as the human creature laid their head upon their hands much like a wolf upon their forepaws, the ears perked towards the two and the teeth, so very white and sharp looking, were still bared in a warning. The tail also moved, curling about the injured leg as though to hide it. Understandably, weakness lead to death in the unforgiving north.
Rolling an orc's corpse over the wall, Zatana retrieved her dagger as the body dropped. Wiping the blood away with a bit of cloth she had cut free from a dead guardsman the dark elf watched as the orcs were chased from the walls. The men about her cheering their victory, though Naysein's song wore off and the reality was simply put before them. War was messy. It was brutal, and the bodies of friends, relatives were scattered about before them with grievous wounds in various stages of dead or dying. Bodies were being carried from the wall, wounded men helped to where their wounds would be tended to, those who didn't see the horror took trophies. Had these orcs been of any real note, Zatana might have joined them. There was nothing wrong with a trophy to remember a worthy enemy or to take proof of the kill.

Moving to shadow the Prince, the dark elf arched a brow as the paladin called the bard elf 'Nan'. An odd familiarity if she was any guess. Though her brows snapped together with a glower from the shadows of her cowl when the Prince suggested they return to the keep to rest. Did the boy listen to nothing? Her only task was to keep him alive and well and now he was running off into more danger! Exasperated and feeling as though she understood her grandfather's dislike for excitable people, Zatana bounded along the wall after the Royal Prince. Sliding her daggers into their sheaths, she watched as the Manald was savaging a troll. Drawing her bow form her back, she snatched a few arrows from a guardsman as she passed the soldier. Her bow quickly drawn as she perched on the battlements and took careful aim at the troll. Firing when she thought she could without hitting the wolf-man and to cover his potential retreat. Absently she hoped the wolf would hear the 'oil' part of Leonidas's plan.





Arc I - Terreille in Trouble




Location: Winton


The three brothers glared back at the tiny Queen, but the twins did back down each taking a step away from the Black Widow-Healer. Bellinar was the quicker of the two, some might notice. Gennar, however, remained where he was. The eldest of the brothers glared at the tiny Queen, but his mouth snapped shut on any possible argument as he gripped the back of Faeril's chair. His large leathery wings closing tight to his back. Faeril reached up a hand and patted Gen's own, the large Eyrien glowering at Saetan and nodding slowly. "I will not interfere, Ladies." It was the only concession they would get out of him. If there was one common trait among the Eyrien men in all the race, it was their stubbornness to hold onto a willful temper.

Faeril, for her part, gave Jandar small thankful glance. She had known her spell would cause trouble if it would have come out, but it seemed so unlikely a thing, she was a bit startled it had come out at all. Yet, they all had a right to their reactions and Faeril could not fault the glowering looks she felt coming from the nearly mute Sybl. The young man had grown up fearing and distrusting Black Widows, with reason. Turning her icy gaze to meet the golden eyes of the Warlord Prince, the room dropped from both awarenesses. Saetan had not bothered to answer Fatima aside from an artfully raised brow and a polite incline to his dark head.

Second ticked by then minutes. Nearly a half of an hour. The Eyrien brothers grew restless and Gen was ever a statue as he watched the Black Jeweled Warlord-Prince. Thom hovered at Dareen's elbow, having returned and now found himself a bit at a loss as what to do. The boy rather like the group well enough except for the Eyrien brother, Bellinar and he was hardly sure about what the legendary Black Jewel's intentions were. Some gossip said he liked to assist those who suffered under the twisted Queens. The boy was hardly sure about that... "If he's on our side against them Queens why don't he just use all the power people say he has and blast them to nothing?" Surely it was something the Black Jewel could do? The question hadn't really been aimed at anyone, but it hovered in the air, spoken softly by the boy without him being aware he said aught.

Dunny cocked his head, and gave a whine up at Fatima. 'Perhaps if the Warlord Prince harms the Healer-of-Minds you could bite him? Or I could bite him for you? I know where to bite troublesome men. Should I bite those grumpy Eyriens? Why is the silent one act like a cat around a pack of Scelties? Are we going to chase him up a tree?' There was a privateness to the conversation as Dunny stood on his hind legs to lick at the Queen's dainty hand. 'You are a good Queen. You snarl very well.' The Sceltie Kindred approved.

The link between the members of the Hourglass was a delicate dance. As Saetan returned to himself, he looked astonished and insulted. Yet, there was a trace of bitterness in the golden eyes as he bowed slightly to the seated Black Widow. To any versed in the delicacies of the Courts, it was a bow of a man to a lady of Aristocratic status. "It is an honor to meet the last of the Ashkevron Black Widows." His voice was still cold, yet there was sincerity in it as he studied the tired-looking Eyrien. "Though, you have forgotten some key elements from your apprenticeship."

"I have grown desperate." Faeril croaked slightly sounding like a woman far older than her actual years, looking pale and wane. "You did not need to peer so deeply, Priest." Gen gripped the woman's shoulders and held her steady, worry etched into his face as he looked between the two. Faeril's hand did little to help the man's worries as it shook when she patted his arm. "I am well enough Gen."

"Ulterior motives are usually hidden quite deep. I have made it so far, by being wary of any possible schemes. If I were to be lax, then I would find myself in a perdictament. One I would rather avoid. Though I do congratulate you. You learned your Craft well, Lady Ashkevron. Though you walk a dangerous line, playing with such delicate threads that weave deep in the Twisted Kingdom." There was a warning in those words that skimmed the surface for the rest of the group. Anyone who would know something more of the Black Widows would know the warning was a caution. Faeril was stepping on a delicate Blood Law and pulling threads in the Twisted Kingdom that could lead her to madness. Turning his attention from the Black Widow he studied Fatima. "I will accompany you to Kaeleer, but there is one deterrent." He touched the band of compliance about his neck. A collar for the Queen's 'pet'. "Breaking free of Dorothea will start a war and a Realm-wide hunt to find and slaughter anyone of Dhemlan blood in Terreille." It was why the Black had no broken free before though he was certainly powerful enough to do so.
Again, sorry for the wait. I'm planning for an update in the next few days, it's been one thing after another this month!
@eclecticwitch @SilverPaw @13org @Zoey Boey Giving a bit of a notice!
Update is coming soon. Sorry for the wait!
@NaturalTendencyNot at all! And you are fine. I'm just nit-picking now so that we are on the same page. I've been in an Rp where not enough questions or thoughts about my character were asked and a lot was assumed very different on my side and the GM. So that's why I'm picking thing apart now. If you want to take time and think things out and change anything, go ahead. And PM or @ me any questions. I usually look three times (at least) a day.

Assuming the adoptive mother was from a Northern merchant family, she could be very well off. The Adoptive mother would know dances and embroidery then, though not in the same style of the Southern ladies. She may also have a firm grasp on the basics of reading or writing and a very firm grasp on arithmetic. Though these skills would lean more towards the merchant side of things. Northern girls were involved in the business, unlike Southern women.

As for wolves chasing the mother and her past. I believe I have the root of an idea forming there, but it comes at a cost for you. One, I will need to know why Isolde's adoptive mother lives alone and not in a town as she is from a merchant family. Plus, Isolde and the adoptive mother would be located in the Southern reaches, near the border between North and South. You can either be surprised or ask more questions and I will answer all I can and you can approve or disapprove of the ideas.

And you're writing is lovely, my only suggestion is to work on clarity.

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