AlteredTundra

Wardens of the Glade: A Light Fantasy RP

With holidays over, I'm hoping to reconvene, assuming everyone is still about it.

@mickilennial

We ain't goin anywhere!

Starlight Cove: Oceanside Memories

Ignore that oopsie

Brenden

B R E N D A N
B R E N D A N

^{”Even in darkness, even in the unknown—there will always be a light, a north star to guide you to where you belong.”}

C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T _________________________________________________________ C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y _________________________________________________________ The often introspective, emotionally cynical, twenty-six year old Brendan Leclair is the sole keeper of the lighthouse on the outskirts of town. The lighthouse has a two-story house about twenty steps away from it with a pier next to it. It is there that Brendan stands, often contemplating his purpose in the circle that is life. When he’s not questioning his existence, he likes to write his musings in a journal and take strolls along the shore (usually without shoes so he can feel the sand between his toes). He enjoys fishing even though he isn’t any good and has an obsession with making pies, be it fruit or meat pie. He might not be very good, but it distracts him from how loud his mind can get. He also has a cat. A black cat named Way

C H A R A C T E R B I O G R A P H Y C H A R A C T E R B I O G R A P H Y ________________________________________________________________________________________ Before settling on the small island of Starlight Cove, those who bore the name Leclair, they were sailors. They were navigators. They were kings of the seas. Rumor has it, the sigil of a shooting star was the symbol they were coming. It’s been rumored that everyone who took to the sea knew of their name. But this was so long ago and the norieity of that name has faded into memory of those who still bear it. For three generations, the name Leclair has been associated with the lighthouse tower. From Brendon’s grandfather to his mother and now passed onto him, he oversees the lighthouse. He fixes what needs fixing. Replacing the light, patching up things that need patching up, and making repairs. He inherited it merely three years ago when his mother fell ill and when his father left the island a few months after that. The lighthouse might seem small in comparison to what role it serves to the island, but if there’s one thing that Brendan has always valued, it was how everything in the world has a role in the great circle of life. Everything from the animals the hunters kill to provide the island with food to the florists that give them the benefit of a flowers beauty to even the safe guidance a lighthouse provides for sailors and traders who come to Starlight for business. Everything has a purpose. And though Brendan understands his purpose in maintaining the upkeep of the lighthouse, he still questions about his personal purpose. What is it he’s meant to do? Is being the keeper of the lighthouse simply it? With nobody but himself to fall back on, is he meant to just be alone by the pier without anyone? Or is there someone, somewhere, waiting for him?

---

Starlight Cove: Oceanside Memories

Brendan

B R E N D A N
B R E N D A N

^{”Even in darkness, even in the unknown—there will always be a light, a north star to guide you to where you belong.”}

C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T _________________________________________________________ C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y _________________________________________________________ The often introspective, emotionally cynical, twenty-six year old Brendan Leclair is the sole keeper of the lighthouse on the outskirts of town. The lighthouse has a two-story house about twenty steps away from it with a pier next to it. It is there that Brendan stands, often contemplating his purpose in the circle that is life. When he’s not questioning his existence, he likes to write his musings in a journal and take strolls along the shore (usually without shoes so he can feel the sand between his toes). He enjoys fishing even though he isn’t any good and has an obsession with making pies, be it fruit or meat pie. He might not be very good, but it distracts him from how loud his mind can get. He also has a cat. A black cat named Way

C H A R A C T E R B I O G R A P H Y C H A R A C T E R B I O G R A P H Y ________________________________________________________________________________________ Before settling on the small island of Starlight Cove, those who bore the name Leclair, they were sailors. They were navigators. They were kings of the seas. Rumor has it, the sigil of a shooting star was the symbol they were coming. It’s been rumored that everyone who took to the sea knew of their name. But this was so long ago and the norieity of that name has faded into memory of those who still bear it. For three generations, the name Leclair has been associated with the lighthouse tower. From Brendon’s grandfather to his mother and now passed onto him, he oversees the lighthouse. He fixes what needs fixing. Replacing the light, patching up things that need patching up, and making repairs. He inherited it merely three years ago when his mother fell ill and when his father left the island a few months after that. The lighthouse might seem small in comparison to what role it serves to the island, but if there’s one thing that Brendan has always valued, it was how everything in the world has a role in the great circle of life. Everything from the animals the hunters kill to provide the island with food to the florists that give them the benefit of a flowers beauty to even the safe guidance a lighthouse provides for sailors and traders who come to Starlight for business. Everything has a purpose. And though Brendan understands his purpose in maintaining the upkeep of the lighthouse, he still questions about his personal purpose. What is it he’s meant to do? Is being the keeper of the lighthouse simply it? With nobody but himself to fall back on, is he meant to just be alone by the pier without anyone? Or is there someone, somewhere, waiting for him?

---

Starlight Cove: Oceanside Memories

Thinking about character ideas, I've got a few in mind

Would Starlight Cove have any use for a lighthouse? It's an island, but still not sure if it would be of any use plot wise or not

If so, I was thinking of making a character whose family has been the keeper of said lighthouse for a few generations

Alternatively, also had an idea for either an astrologist or maybe even a psychic.

Starlight Cove: Oceanside Memories

Got room for one more? 👀

Wardens of the Glade: A Light Fantasy RP

Really enjoying reading this, but like... How long does it take you to write each response? It takes me over an hour to hit 300 words, including my drafting, proofreading, cross-referencing, revising...

These are long, long posts. How do you manage to do so much without manipulating other characters, or stifling their players? Whenever I write more than 4 paragraphs I feel like I'm doing too much in one post and I need to cut it back to let others respond.

Do you send your responses accepting that large parts of your post simply won't be addressed as other players perform their characters in incongruent ways? Do you just trust each other to read everything multiple times and look for stepping stones to your next posts?

Sorry for all the questions (especially as I'm not even playing) but I'm just getting back into RP and these longer posts have always fascinated me, and I'd like to do it myself, but I want to do it in a way that's considerate, where I've always found myself becoming domineering.

Anyway, again, I'm enjoying the read. Great work, really.

@shallow grave

Intro posts are always a special case because they're the thing you want to really sell your character, but even past that, I do like to yap when I'm writing. Part of it is just writing until I find a flow and then making the decision to end it on a sweet note. Another part is plotting with others and getting a scene together, but the other parts of it? Just going with the flow. At the end of it, having that organic element of bouncing off of each other is what really allows me to write lengthy posts.

300 words per post isn't bad honestly. I remember when I couldn't even do that much. I think as long as you're having fun with it, length is secondary.

Wardens of the Glade: A Light Fantasy RP

“What is that atrocious odor?” Zyran gagged as he stepped into the Grand City of Atutania.

No, not grand. Nothing about the plain, unrefined peasant-for-a-city that was Atutania was deserving of the title of grand. His father, Hisham, now that was someone who was fitting of the title “Grand Prince”. His home of Atuunis was fitting of being called grand, but the shithole that he was forced to travel to? Unacceptable! It’s an insult.

Prince Zyran was someone who hated traveling and he hated it even more when the end of his journey made the slums feel like paradise. For almost a fortnight, with nothing but three of the best guardsmen that the Siada family could afford traveled with him, Zyran encountered all sorts of horrors. He experienced the lack of a comfortable bed and had to settle for inns like he was some commoner. Imagine that! Zyran Siada having to sleep in a bed no bigger than how far he could stretch his limber legs. And that was on the nights where they could rest comfortably…Or whatever the commoners thought comfort was. There was no servant to wash him, dress him, or sit there as he vented about the problems he had. The closest thing to that was the owner of these inns, but after barely scratching the surface, they silenced him and even threatened to kick him and his hired guards out of the inn.

So what if he offered to buy the inn if these owners kicked everyone else out so he and his traveling companions could have the place to themselves? It’s not like he insulted the wives and partners of these innkeepers. Zyran wouldn’t dare do that.

Well that’s why he’s in such a sour mood. No inns or commoner levels of comfort for nearly a week. Word traveled fast about the entitled prince of Atuunis fast and inns refused him. But he had standards.

Zyran walked alone through the main festival grounds of the Day of Heroes. It wasn’t the worst, he supposed. There was a certain flare to it, but it lacked refinement. The smells that penetrated his senses was like a sneak attack from someone without honor. Or when the servants address him as just “Zyran”. No use of “my lord” or “prince”. It’s so unrefined and undignified. What he felt invade his nose was the lack of spices.

The prince, whose white hair, attire of an elaborately-designed robe with silk sashes holding it up, and entire bravado came to a stop at one of the…chefs were trying to entice him with what, as the man called it, an Atutanian delicacy.

“It’s a meat pie. It doesn’t even look like you seasoned it,” The Hahrali prince sourly said, disgust on his face and he made a point to make sure the seller knew it.

“So do you want it or not?”

And the disgust devolved into a deeper level of disgust that was also insulted. “You really think I would poison my perfect body with this…filth?” With a laugh, Zyran walked away.

Not long, Zyran felt his insides grumble with hunger and he ended up buying one of the atrocious meat pie (certainly not like the Sfeeha the cooks make back home) only so he wouldn’t succumb to hunger going into the proving grounds. Each bite felt like he was insulting his palette. The unseasoned beef and how overcooked it was was demeaning to someone like him. It felt like the ultimate betrayal. Despite that, he consumed it so he had the energy for what knew was going to be a difficult day.

---

Zyran, with a belly full of spiritually-poisoned subsistence, had finally freed himself of the decaying odor of mediocracy that were the streets of Atutania and was closer to the proving grounds where he would show just how far superior he was to everyone. It’s where he would start his journey to become a knight of the order and prove to his father that, though his siblings have all achieved far greater things he has done thus far, being a Warden would far surpass all of them.

But alas, his desire would have to wait. What kept him was one of the worst things imaginable for the prince. Something so horrendous that it made the quiver on his back, the golden bow that was under it, and all muscles in his body ache.

“A line? Really?” He groaned, exasperated. He crossed his arms over each other, almost pouting and tapping his foot quite impatiently.

There was two people in front of him. One was a short redhead whose name seemed familiar. Lina Ariesca? The family name was, at least familiar to him but he couldn’t be bothered to remember. If it was important enough for him to actually care to remember, then he would’ve.

When she moved on, the other who Zyran caught quite the barbaric odor. His nose was sensitive, especially after being exposed to the natural scent of Atutania, the Shithole City, there was something equally as unripen as whoever was in front of him.

And then their name came.

Sternwyss.

What kind of name was that? Certainly no name he has ever heard of. It almost sounded elvish, but that couldn’t be possible. Why would they be here?

Zyran took notice of the ears and that confirmed it. He didn’t know whether to just ask the would-be tree-hugger if they were an elf or just some deformed human or if he should leave it be. It was beneath him to bring up such a matter but it was bothering him. So he decided to follow through with it, but before he could, they moved on so Zyran would have to save that for later.

He stepped forward and looked at the man in armor who stood behind the reception desk. “Name?” She asked in the most ungodly tone of voice. So devoid of passion.

“Are you seriously asking my name? Do you not know who I am?” Zyran gave him the benefit of the doubt and let her gaze upon his face so it would come to her.

“I’ve got no clue. Name?”

Zyran felt his blood boil so much that he was almost going to raise his bow at him. That level of disrespect was treasonous in Atuunis, but the diplomat in him that his mother raised him to be found restraint and clung to it for dear life because he feared his bruised ego wouldn’t let it slide. “I am Prince Zyran, of the GRAND merchant guild of Siada." He added extra emphasis to what he felt was important.

The man seemed to write it down on some piece of parchment. “Ranged combat is over there. There are targets you can shoot that fancy bow of yours at.”

For a moment, he wondered if he really should voice his displeasure with the way she insulted the Prince of Atuunis, but he let it go for now. Zyran would make her regret it when he aced all the trials and blew everyone out of the water.

The prince simply walked into the proving grounds, near the targets and readied himself to outshine everyone. They’ll see the shine of his bow and he’ll amaze them with how far he’s come with his magic. “If anyone wants to watch how it’s done--” He took notice of the peasant Hahrali with the crossbow and scoffed, “--how a real archer gets it done, feel free to watch. Perhaps you might learn a thing or two.” Again, he looked at the Hahrali with the crossbow, as if to direct that directly at them.

And Zyran withdrew his bow and pulled a steel-tipped arrow from the matching gold quiver on his back. As he took his position, he aimed for the center of the target.

Wardens of the Glade: A Light Fantasy RP

Z Y R A N
Z Y R A N

^{“It's not bad luck that's to blame for your mediocrity. It's simply you were born with inferior genes, but don't be concerned, I will enlighten you.”}

C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T _________________________________________________________ C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y _________________________________________________________ There's not many who could be more aesthetic than Prince Zyran Siada, the youngest child of the Siada Merchant family, practically nobility in Hahral. Nobody is better at swaying a gullible sucker into doing what he wants them to do nor a better archer. But it's okay if you don't measure up to him. He forgives you. He'll show you the error of your ways and you'll thank him by being his slave...or friend, as other lands call it. Age: 17 Race: Human Nationality: Hahralian Weapon of Choice: Recurve Bow/Arrows Elemental Affinity: Thunder Spiritual Affinity: Dark

C H A R A C T E R B I O G R A P H Y C H A R A C T E R B I O G R A P H Y ________________________________________________________________________________________ The name Siada is known wide and far among the Free Cities of Hahal. It is the name of one of the richest merchant families in the land and are known for a certain cruelty against those lesser than them. One reason why is because they hold a certain monopoly over merchants, wealthy and not. In this monopoly, they always ensure they receive a massive cut of whatever profits. If they don't receive their money, they react with almost zero mercy. Rumor has it that they have hired bandits and criminal sydnicates to settle debts. Either way they get their money one way or another. And Zyran is the youngest son of Hisham and Zara. Much like his father, Zyran is a skilled archer with the silvertongue, two very specific traits he inherited from his father and mother respectively. He has five older siblings, all of whom have made a name for themselves as merchants and/or warriors. It is Zyran's turn. Both in a sense of obligation and desire to see the world, Zyran will travel to Atutania and become a Hero of the Glade and bring glory to his family. Compared to his siblings—three older brothers and two older sisters—Zyran could be considered the least terrible one. His morals tend to fall in the middle of unreasonably cruel (mainly to slaves and servants) to empathetic but unbearably vain and downright mocking of one's place in society. Zyran was raised a certain way and maybe that his desire to impress his father has clouded his empathy a bit. His way of being nice to people when he isn't being condescending is showing what they did wrong and making an effort to make them feel about it. After all, it's not their fault that they are too fast when wisdom chases them. Just a year ago, Zyran was training and training with his archery instructor. It was a long day and unbearably hot. The sun was high without so much of a cloud in sight and he was out in the desert. Zyran was tasked with finding a rare beast one that only a single arrow between the temple could kill. It would be the final test of Zyran's archery lessons. If he passed and returned to Atuunis, he would earn a spot right by his father in the family business. If not, he would be exiled. All of his siblings had a similar lesson and they all passed with flying colors. Zyran was at death's door and the beast, said to be the size of three bears and looked like a tiger fused with a lion. When Zyran encountered it, he was about to collapse but the beast had charged forward. He took his bow, aimed an arrow but was slow and found himself on his back. The beast was aiming to rip him apart and then an arc of gold lightning was shot from his left arm and he found himself on his feet. The lion-tiger beast was stunned and three arrows in a rapid-fire series of shots found itself between the beast's eyes. Zyran had passed his test and his father rewarded him. And a year later, he would travel to Atutania. All for the family and maybe to prove himself. To do something that none of his siblings had done. If he can do this, he'll have something over them. C H A R A C T E R I Z A T I O N C H A R A C T E R I Z A T I O N ________________________________________________________________________________________ Antagonistic ⬗ Charming ⬗ Glamourous ⬗ Snide ⬗ Supercilious ⬗ Vain A B I L I T I E S A B I L I T I E S ________________________________________________________________________________________ In terms of magic ability, Zyran might be considered still a novice. Having his elemental affinity awaken just last year, though he has been trying to hone his mastery over it (or just a simple comfort of using it). Through his practice and extreme training in the desert, he has managed to expand the storage of mana that would allow him four shots of lightning bolts. He has also found a theoretical way of shooting lightning-covered arrows with his bow, but this theory came to him the day before he set out for Atutania. He might test it out. Zyran is a skilled archer and among his family, is considered the best. And he certainly chooses to believe he's the best in the world. He excels at the rapid-shot and multi-target shot techniques. He can hit multiple targets with almost pinpoint accuracy as well as being a quick draw with his rapid shots. Combat aside, Zyran is considered an above average manipulator and merchant. He is able to talk people (most of the time) to do what he wants them to do. When he's trying to sell goods, that includes buying the product at the price he wants them to buy rather than what they might be able to afford. There's also getting people to do things for him. Generally he hates getting his hands dirty, so he likes to get others to do it. It doesn't always go according to plan but more often than not, he gets his way. God forbid anyone witnesses the bitch fit he throws and that is legendary on its own.

---

Wardens of the Glade: A Light Fantasy RP

Wardens of the Glade: A Light Fantasy RP

damn toma looks like a fuckboy

@Kuro

"And I took that personally" —Zyran probably