LokiLeo789

Mid/High Casual - Divinus: The Deity Roleplay Mk.II

@Antarctic Termite, She's most likely near either the Oath of Stilldeath or lurking around Pictaraika. Those are her two favorite places nowadays :-)

@Frettzo

Y’all can hang out at Amy’s strip club if you want. We got sexy Hain.

Relatively Generic Medieval Fantasy

@Rockin Strings

Be careful about meta-gaming, man.

Relatively Generic Medieval Fantasy

Aight, ima wait for @Avali to throw up Grace's reaction before I decide whether Whisper needs to sit some fools down or just play it cool and let the youngsters take care of everything. He might have too sit a fool down.

Mid/High Casual - Divinus: The Deity Roleplay Mk.II

#Mace4lyfe #bestweaponu #downwithpikes #shamelongbows

@Vec

The Skyrim quest for that was so ass. But Oblivion was lit.

Mid/High Casual - Divinus: The Deity Roleplay Mk.II

Hey, I took a 'which medieval weapon is best for you' quiz and

they know me well

<Snipped quote>

holy shit

@Antarctic Termite

I got a Glock 19 😗

Relatively Generic Medieval Fantasy

I hope graverobbers dig up your body and take your toenails or something.

@Avali

Toenails, the most valuable body part.

Relatively Generic Medieval Fantasy

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Thunder's Whisper

_{Location: Tavern
Interacting With: @Bluetommy Lorne & Kenan| @Fury Panda Izabel | @Avali Grace}

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Thunder's Whisper turned to face the owner of the voice who addressed him. A rather daring dwarven woman started back at him. He gave the her a quick, decisive appraisal before gifting her a knowing smile. The power so easily tossed around by the two duelist was no doubt intimidating to many, but not to Whisper. He would not stand idly by while others callously endangered the lives those involved not.

"Gratitude is owed to you stranger. We value your insight, but the danger to innocents too high stands. We recommend you make haste and flee if you endeavor not to join us." he advised.

Once more the duel caught his eye. It was sight to see... in addition to being a sword, this Runeblade was also a logistical nightmare for enemies. In Whisper's long life, he had come across few spell-blades of this caliber. Whisper watched in muted awe as ethereal golden armor was called forth from the blade's rune and cast onto the Messiah's body, all in an effortless nature. Whisper being a practitioner of the arcane arts knew this to not be a simple feat. He found it difficult to create mere flames and still required focusing aids such as incantations. Whereas this man was able to summon defenses simply from a rune-- truly the weapon was magnificently crafted, a statement Whisper's hubris and inbred hypocrisy wouldn't allow him to admit aloud. Just a moment ago he chastised the weapon of destruction.

But Thunder's Whisper wouldn't let his guard down; he would stay on his toes and keep a vigilant watch.

"That is the spirit, companion." he jibbed, ignoring the man's reconstruction of his appendages as he took on a different persona in preparation for the fight to come.

Like the coming of night, light was consumed by darkness as it invaded Whisper's persona. His hair and eyes abandoned their nature inspired shades of earthen brown for more somber tones. And an unnerving aura of intense intimidation manifested around Thunder's Whisper. These were the effects The Aspect of the Destroyer forced upon Whisper as his features were swallowed in an enveloping darkness: deep, lusterless, coal-black eyes watched every move. In-taking this aspect lent to his ability to conquer foes by bolstering attributes; a benefit that would surely be useful in the coming assault. But what move would be made? Only fools rush in, and Whisper would not be so reckless.

In one swift motion he returned his helmet to his head and flicked his wrist, shaking the Sacred Root to live. She was ready; tentative, alert, and ready to strike in a blink of an eye. He withdrew two arrows and loaded them in his bow-string, one for each of the duelists.

"These arrows of growth bind those they hit. Whether they miss or not, we succeed in halting this furious duel. Make your move as you see fit, companion."

In quick succession and with deadly precision the two arrows where released and ripped through the air towards their marks.

Relatively Generic Medieval Fantasy

Oh... I missed more Rose posts...

I meant OOC too. It is veeeeery quiet around here.

@Avali

Don’t fret to much about OCC activity. There will be no doubt lulls in memery from time to time.

Relatively Generic Medieval Fantasy

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Thunder's Whisper

_{Location: Tavern
Interacting With: @Bluetommy Lorne}

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Whisper rose along side the corpse, studying him all the while. He felt no life within the man's body, only the icy breath of death that often crept down it's victims spine like a careful spider leaving a trail of silk. It was somewhat unsettling to him. Necromancy-the only likely catalyst for such a result-was anathema to the imperative of nature. Yet, his existence was his own, not Whisper's, and nothing would not change that unless nature herself called for his soul's return.

The fury of the duel's combatants raged on outside. The Runeblade... Whisper mused. He hadn't heard of the artifact fact before, likely because it proved to be construct of man instead of nature. Yet another weapon of destruction bequeathed to the devices of a callous being. A callous being who had to stopped.

Whisper lowered his head and removed his helmet, revealing his youthful, earth-toned features. "This one would readily agree with you, but this dance of death endangers others as well. We must intervene. What say you?"

Relatively Generic Medieval Fantasy

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Thunder's Whisper

_{Location: Tavern
Interacting With: @Bluetommy Lorne}

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Thunder's Whisper had made the mistake of wearing his armor into the confines of a human settlement... ever staring and questioning to as why he was wearing the bark and leaves of a tree; as if he was some mad man. Could they not tell it was for protection and furthermore camouflage? They really were naive beings. Where they got the audacity to gawk merely for being different he wondered, for he never commented on many's impractical light cloths and brightly colored fabrics. Although none could see it, a frown was present on his face. His distaste faded however, as he turned his attention to more pressing matters.

What was once locks of long brown hair turned white as fresh as the snow he stood upon while his formerly brown eyes turned blue. This change in features represented the embodying of the Aspect of the Ancients. This was a primal force that allowed him to sense the presence of powerful creatures and other great anomalies, even over great distances. Using that and other magic ensured him that he was on the correct path. But following wasn't going to be enough, if they held any hope of lifting this lands horrid curse and saving the people of Adarla before the tides of war buried them in a frozen tomb, he would need to cut it off soon.

Speaking of cutting off... Whisper mused as he focused on the ensuing duel in the distance.

The female combatant was foreign to him, yet the palpability of her authority was enough to signal a status of importance in some facet; good or bad, he could not decipher. On the other hand, the rather handsome man who wielded a blade imbued with runic magic, was no doubt a recognizable figure to many of Adarla. The Messiah; another man lost to the ceases cycle of injustice and violence that mankind were no less privy too. Blinded by war and politics, or their jaded ideas of "freedom" to deal with the greater problem that lay before them.

"The Permafrost." he whispered. The name he coined for the perpetual winter fit rather well in his opinion.

The duel raged on. Blade pitied against blade. Ideology against ideology. Just as their authority seemed to give off a pressure, so did their principals, values, and goals with each move.

Clearly they lacked moral fiber though, as they dueled on despite the collateral damage it caused; seemingly oblivious the fate of the beam of magic callously launched into a crowded tavern. Yet Whisper saw. Despite long since relinquishing hold of his Aspect, he needed it not to watch as the orphaned magic cut through one of the tavern patrons.

Lives where in danger, yet while stopping the duel was imperative, possibly saving a life held priority.

Undeterred by the power and savagery being tossed around him, Whisper casually skirted around the invisible arenas edge, content to letting the combatants continue their petty squabble for now.

With ease he slipped into the tavern proper, his 5'11 wooden and leafy stature no doubt garnering some attention from onlookers not so keen on the battle outside. Almost immediately he laid eyes on the injured victim and was just as quickly by his side. A cavernous hole in the man's chest told Whisper all he needed to know.

The natural order had claimed this man.

Whisper moved to grant the man his final rights, returning his soul to which it was granted, but paused. Realization dawned over him and withdrew his hand.

"Pardon this one for his presumptuousness, a being un-death this one now understands you are. No true harm has reached your body." True enough. Indeed only superficial harm marred his being. His unnatural status was anathema to him, but he by no means displayed it.