“You must be mistaken, there is no way she could have POSSIBLY survived.”
“Begging your pardon, my King, but I do believe I am alive.”
Bela sauntered in, a smile on her lips and a purse of gold at her hip for her patron. The king smiled widely, tucking her into a tight embrace that would have made a lesser person blush. “Ah, Bela! It cannot be true that there were twenty scores of undead, you had no reinforcements…” The king looked at loss for words as he led his hero over to a table set with battle plans and jugs of wine. Bela eased her sore body into a chair and sighed as a woman poured the two a glass of wine. “By the grace of the Father I was able to send the creatures back to death where they belong. No villagers were harmed in the fray…” she reported, all business for her liege. Her body ached and she knew there was a fresh wound on her shoulder that would need to be attended to.
“Yes, but you can’t have taken on that many without being injured…surely…” his voice of concern was cut off as another warrior came up and clapped Belamica on the back in greeting, a small wince was all that broken her stoic demeanor, but it was enough for the king to see. “Leslie! Bring Belamica to Maester Jamon, make sure she is taken care of. My champion, go rest, there is time for boasting in the morrow.” With that, Bela didn’t complain, didn’t protest, simply followed the serving woman down the hall. She knew the way to Maester Jamon’s by herself, and Leslie knew that well enough, but she was doing as tasked by her king, so Belamica said nothing.
“What on earth possessed you to do such a thing alone, Bela,” the soft voice came from the well muscled man before her. Looking nothing like the Maester’s Bela knew, Jamon was a rare breed. Beautiful and well built, a man suited for battle, but an accident as a child had left him blind, and because of that he made himself known in scholarly circles. Eventually he made his way through the ranks to those of the king, who had kept him as a royal healer and advisor. A shiver went through the paladin as Jamon peeled her armor off, exposing the festering wound underneath.
His delicate fingers danced over Bela’s pale flesh and all she could do was bite into her lip to hold back a whimper. No one gave her the sensations Jamon did, and to Bela’s warrior mind, it was unsettling. He cleaned and sewed her wounds with the precision of someone with keen eyesight and let his hand rest on her uninjured shoulder once he was done.
“You must not throw yourself so recklessly into danger..” his concern almost made Bela squirm, and as his hand moved to cup her chin, Belamica had to hold back a sound of surprise. His unseeing eyes stared blankly into hers. “I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you…” His closeness made Bela stand abruptly. She didn’t know how to deal with the warring feelings inside her.
“Thank you Maester, for you aid, if you could have a sleeping draught sent to my room for bed, I believe that is all.” The woman gathered her things without so much as another wince and left the Maester grumbling to himself.
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This was the sort of place Bela liked. Low-Key, out of the way and just far enough from the village for no one to recognize her. It was night the darkness afforded the paladin something she could use to her advantage, stealth. Though this wasn’t her usual tactic, the large black cloak over her hid her intricate armor from view. To just below her collarbone, Belamica was covered in silver, not just any silver, but the silver of His Holiness. Her blade had been known as ‘Light Seeker’ and Bela thought it was a fitting name, it sought to bring the light by ending the darkness that was the scourge on her land. The undead had been a problem for so many years that the king developed an entire guard just for the purpose of keeping the kingdom safe from the threat of the undead. After years of proving herself a more than worthy foe in battle, Belamica had taken up the mantle as the chosen champion of the king, and in turn had taken charge of the initiative against the undead.
She was in this tavern to seek out the informant that had passed an urgent message to the king. There had been an outbreak of the undead plague. A large number of graves were turning up empty with clawing marks in their lids. The dead weren’t staying that way. With her bright eyes closed, Bela’s pale lips moved in prayer. “Father, guard us against the darkness and steel us to unleash your might against those who are no longer of the living. “ It was a short prayer, but it was something that calmed Bela before the chaos of battle. Even as she whispered her prayer, the tavern she was in had gone eerily quiet. With her head bowed and her hood up, she hadn’t noticed as people filtered out of the place, scared looks on their faces.
By the time she realized the room was empty, the frigid feeling of death had already began to seep into the place. No doubt the undead were coming, someone had led them here just for her. For any other Paladin this would have been a death wish, but all Bela could do was smile as she unpinned her cloak and turned. The dark green material fell to the floor, leaving Bela in glinting silver armor. Even in the dim light it shone with an inner brightness. The creaking of wood caused a perked ear to turn towards the door, and as soon as she was distracted a window was broken. The growling of the undead was like music to Belamica’s ears.
“Bless me Father as I cleanse this land of this unholy MENACE!”
Her sword was pulled easily from her scabbard and as the undead swarmed into the tavern, all Bela could do was smile. For three hours the elf fought the undead swarm, and as the sun rose, she was the only thing left standing in that Tavern. Covered in blood and worse for the wear, Belamica loaded her horse and sauntered off to find somewhere to sleep off the battle she had single handedly just waged.
She was in this tavern to seek out the informant that had passed an urgent message to the king. There had been an outbreak of the undead plague. A large number of graves were turning up empty with clawing marks in their lids. The dead weren’t staying that way. With her bright eyes closed, Bela’s pale lips moved in prayer. “Father, guard us against the darkness and steel us to unleash your might against those who are no longer of the living. “ It was a short prayer, but it was something that calmed Bela before the chaos of battle. Even as she whispered her prayer, the tavern she was in had gone eerily quiet. With her head bowed and her hood up, she hadn’t noticed as people filtered out of the place, scared looks on their faces.
By the time she realized the room was empty, the frigid feeling of death had already began to seep into the place. No doubt the undead were coming, someone had led them here just for her. For any other Paladin this would have been a death wish, but all Bela could do was smile as she unpinned her cloak and turned. The dark green material fell to the floor, leaving Bela in glinting silver armor. Even in the dim light it shone with an inner brightness. The creaking of wood caused a perked ear to turn towards the door, and as soon as she was distracted a window was broken. The growling of the undead was like music to Belamica’s ears.
Her sword was pulled easily from her scabbard and as the undead swarmed into the tavern, all Bela could do was smile. For three hours the elf fought the undead swarm, and as the sun rose, she was the only thing left standing in that Tavern. Covered in blood and worse for the wear, Belamica loaded her horse and sauntered off to find somewhere to sleep off the battle she had single handedly just waged.
Name: Belamica Darkthorn
Age: Unknown, somewhere around 150 when she was killed
Appearance:
Her hair is a sapphire blue, in life she wore it in a single, thick braid down her back, in death her hair is short, just above her shoulders, she doesn't seem to care or notice if it's out of place. Her skin is an almost ivory white, in life it looked almost as pale as in death. Her body remained well toned from years of hard training and though she sported many scars from past battles, her face and chest are largely unmarred.
History: Bela was born to an elven couple on the outskirts of a large city. Being the only elves in this area, people watched closely as Bela aged and grew into the abilities seen as 'natural' for elves, but Bela wanted more. Though skilled with a bow and arrow, nothing compared to the feeling of a hefty sword hilt in her hands. Not long after she became of age, a tournament was held in the village to recruit those who would be in the king's guard. No one expected Bela to show up on the first day in full armor to fight for the honor, by the time the tournament was done, Bela knew she would gain one of the coveted places on the King's guard. The king viewed himself a holy man, and from that night forward, Belamica became one of his Paladin's. She roamed the land with a small group of well trained men to take out the scourge the undead had unleashed upon the land.
Personality: Loyal to a fault, she would fall on her blade if her liege commanded it, and because of this she became a trusted confidant of the King. Many distrust her because of her strange looks, but Bela goes out of her way to make sure they know she means them no harm. She keeps to herself, in life she tended to not entangle herself in romantic relationships because they were a liability.
Age: Unknown, somewhere around 150 when she was killed
Appearance:
Her hair is a sapphire blue, in life she wore it in a single, thick braid down her back, in death her hair is short, just above her shoulders, she doesn't seem to care or notice if it's out of place. Her skin is an almost ivory white, in life it looked almost as pale as in death. Her body remained well toned from years of hard training and though she sported many scars from past battles, her face and chest are largely unmarred.
History: Bela was born to an elven couple on the outskirts of a large city. Being the only elves in this area, people watched closely as Bela aged and grew into the abilities seen as 'natural' for elves, but Bela wanted more. Though skilled with a bow and arrow, nothing compared to the feeling of a hefty sword hilt in her hands. Not long after she became of age, a tournament was held in the village to recruit those who would be in the king's guard. No one expected Bela to show up on the first day in full armor to fight for the honor, by the time the tournament was done, Bela knew she would gain one of the coveted places on the King's guard. The king viewed himself a holy man, and from that night forward, Belamica became one of his Paladin's. She roamed the land with a small group of well trained men to take out the scourge the undead had unleashed upon the land.
Personality: Loyal to a fault, she would fall on her blade if her liege commanded it, and because of this she became a trusted confidant of the King. Many distrust her because of her strange looks, but Bela goes out of her way to make sure they know she means them no harm. She keeps to herself, in life she tended to not entangle herself in romantic relationships because they were a liability.
Sorry, got confused, it said two main characters so I took that to mean canon, my bad >.<
Could I put in a place holder for Rogue until I get my character sheet together? <3
The world of Eborus is a vast one; a world both like and unlike our own. It's people; however, are not so advanced. Eborus is a world of nature and worship, of kings; queens; rulers; and armies of swords and shields. Wood, stone, worked metals, fire and natural resources make up the technology available to the inhabitants of Eborus. Villages and towns dot the land in between forests and mountains and surging rivers. Every now and then a castle or stronghold might rise and cast the shadow of it's ruler over the region. The humans of Eborus were a simple people; so why was there such a brutal and bloody event known only as 'The Hunt' ? Greed. Power. Fear. All good answers, but wrong answers.
The truth of it all, was because the simple humans of Eborus encountered a not so simple problem. The curse of Lycanthropy. The arrival of 'Werewolves'. At first, no one knew what they were. Most weren't even aware of their existence. They spread quickly, however. One bite could infect a human with the disease; and that disease stayed forever in their family from then on. Passed down to their children, and their children's children; once a family had it they had it forever. At first, the infected had no control over the change; no control over the feral part of themselves. Then, slowly, a few learned control over it; and then they passed on that knowledge to their children and their children taught it to their own. A Council was created to help keep these lessons fresh, to help keep the Werewolf community from being a threat to the humans by teaching them control. Thus, the humans and Werewolves coexisted for a time so long as the humans could trust that their afflicted neighbors and friends, smiths and bakers, hunters and priests; were in control of their disease.
This coexistence didn't last long, however. The greed of some humans was simply too much. When the first tests ever to be performed on the body of a Werewolf were done; it lead to a discovery. A Werewolf's heart contained magical properties, and those properties could be harnessed to varying effects. Hunters began to spring up and try their hand at hunting down and killing these Werewolves to make gold; but none were as successful as the group of hunters who became known as the Silver Hand. They were brutal, bloody, and effective. Once a single Werewolf was captured; the tests performed was all they needed to train their hunters for the specific task of slaying a Werewolf for their heart, and so, covered up by the Silver Hand so that the humans believed the Werelwolves lost control of their change and turned on the humans, 'The Hunt' began.
Werewolves are now 'boogey men' they aren't deemed real and almost none exist. Almost.
~~~~~
We're looking for people who'd like to play half breed werewolves, ones that didn't live with the clan when the hunt began. Our thread would be set 20 years after the massacre. I would love to go in depth with this world, and I'm looking for people who'd like to do that with me. If you have any questions, please feel free to post them here or PM me :-)
The truth of it all, was because the simple humans of Eborus encountered a not so simple problem. The curse of Lycanthropy. The arrival of 'Werewolves'. At first, no one knew what they were. Most weren't even aware of their existence. They spread quickly, however. One bite could infect a human with the disease; and that disease stayed forever in their family from then on. Passed down to their children, and their children's children; once a family had it they had it forever. At first, the infected had no control over the change; no control over the feral part of themselves. Then, slowly, a few learned control over it; and then they passed on that knowledge to their children and their children taught it to their own. A Council was created to help keep these lessons fresh, to help keep the Werewolf community from being a threat to the humans by teaching them control. Thus, the humans and Werewolves coexisted for a time so long as the humans could trust that their afflicted neighbors and friends, smiths and bakers, hunters and priests; were in control of their disease.
This coexistence didn't last long, however. The greed of some humans was simply too much. When the first tests ever to be performed on the body of a Werewolf were done; it lead to a discovery. A Werewolf's heart contained magical properties, and those properties could be harnessed to varying effects. Hunters began to spring up and try their hand at hunting down and killing these Werewolves to make gold; but none were as successful as the group of hunters who became known as the Silver Hand. They were brutal, bloody, and effective. Once a single Werewolf was captured; the tests performed was all they needed to train their hunters for the specific task of slaying a Werewolf for their heart, and so, covered up by the Silver Hand so that the humans believed the Werelwolves lost control of their change and turned on the humans, 'The Hunt' began.
Werewolves are now 'boogey men' they aren't deemed real and almost none exist. Almost.
~~~~~
We're looking for people who'd like to play half breed werewolves, ones that didn't live with the clan when the hunt began. Our thread would be set 20 years after the massacre. I would love to go in depth with this world, and I'm looking for people who'd like to do that with me. If you have any questions, please feel free to post them here or PM me :-)
Name: Anna Marie ‘The Black Maiden’
Gender: F
Age: 19
Nationality: Native British, both parents Welsh
Appearance:
Powers and/or Abilities: When she touches someone’s skin, she absorbs their life force. In normal humans, this can drain them and end their lives while leaving Anna with their memories. With others with abilities, she is able to not only absorb their abilities but also their memories with the same threat of possibly killing them if she holds on too long. Whomever she touches experiences intense pain as they feel the life being sucked from them.
Personality: Quick witted and known for cracking jokes, when scorned or double crossed, she will not rest until revenge is doled out. Her emotions aren’t a weakness, as far as she sees, since she can never be touched, Anna has resigned herself to a life of loneliness. Her accent can be a little jarring, but she can get her point across.
Personal History: Born in the countryside, Anna’s mother wanted more for her daughter. As she grew, her mother was able to get her into a Lord’s home to follow the women of the house, she began as a helper in the kitchen and ended up being one of the maids for the lady of the house. She enjoyed her time there but three days after her 14th birthday, something horrible happened. Upon bathing the lady of the house, something peculiar occurred. Anna’s bare hand felt as if it were glued to the woman’s shoulder as a stream of memories and energy flooded Anna. By the time she was able to pull her hand away, the woman lay in the bath cold and dead. She had begun life on the run then, realizing through many follies, that her mere touch could kill even the strongest man.
Miscellaneous: Elbow length leather gloves are something she always wears when around others, her clothing covers her completely. She tends to wear dresses with hoods to hide her face, colors usually in earth tones.
Gender: F
Age: 19
Nationality: Native British, both parents Welsh
Appearance:
Powers and/or Abilities: When she touches someone’s skin, she absorbs their life force. In normal humans, this can drain them and end their lives while leaving Anna with their memories. With others with abilities, she is able to not only absorb their abilities but also their memories with the same threat of possibly killing them if she holds on too long. Whomever she touches experiences intense pain as they feel the life being sucked from them.
Personality: Quick witted and known for cracking jokes, when scorned or double crossed, she will not rest until revenge is doled out. Her emotions aren’t a weakness, as far as she sees, since she can never be touched, Anna has resigned herself to a life of loneliness. Her accent can be a little jarring, but she can get her point across.
Personal History: Born in the countryside, Anna’s mother wanted more for her daughter. As she grew, her mother was able to get her into a Lord’s home to follow the women of the house, she began as a helper in the kitchen and ended up being one of the maids for the lady of the house. She enjoyed her time there but three days after her 14th birthday, something horrible happened. Upon bathing the lady of the house, something peculiar occurred. Anna’s bare hand felt as if it were glued to the woman’s shoulder as a stream of memories and energy flooded Anna. By the time she was able to pull her hand away, the woman lay in the bath cold and dead. She had begun life on the run then, realizing through many follies, that her mere touch could kill even the strongest man.
Miscellaneous: Elbow length leather gloves are something she always wears when around others, her clothing covers her completely. She tends to wear dresses with hoods to hide her face, colors usually in earth tones.
Shall I post my sheet here or in the IC
Then I think yes :-) definite interest. Maybe along the lines of the 1602 Marvel comic?
Haha, I concur with Nevis on this one. Would like the join upon learning more
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