Vas Khaleen

Fallout: War for the Commonwealth

Still open?

🆃🅷🅴 🅼🅰🅶🅸🅲🅰🅻 🅿🅻🅸🅶🅷🆃

Rhaenyes is still open for interaction as well, i can collab if desired.

The Lord of the Rings

Ill have one up tonight

Over the Misty Mountains [LOTR] [Hobbit]

Anyone who wants can interact with Mawiyah.

When revolvers ruled the West - A casual/low-advanced Western RP based on various Spaghetti Westerns etc.

As the bandits ran away fleeing the stout opposition from the town Lily chased after them out the bullet riddled building, drawing her griswold from its leather holster; firing after the riders down the street unsuccessfully due to range and speed. Running over to her dead horse grasping the winchester rifle from the leather saddle holster along with the union cavalry sword, rushing over to the stables along with Hawthorne; grasping the first horse she saw by the mane and jumping onto its back by sliding her boot through its stirrup. Holding the rifle in her right hand as she pressed her heels into the chestnut colored mare sending it hauling ass down the blood soaked dirt road, kicking up quite a dust-storm as she did; the Union sword simply wedged between her belt and right hip. The blood from her wound soaking through the thin improvised bandage she made, though the pain was bearable enough that her anger towards the outlaws out paced the need to patch it up; her horse bolting out of town on their heels chasing them across a wide open grass plain. Lifting her rifle to her shoulder allowing the horse to guide itself, leaving her heels dug into the beasts underside as she fired towards the bandits; dropping the lever in a smooth motion to fire again as she rode still fairly accurate.

Over the Misty Mountains [LOTR] [Hobbit]

Mawiyah sat at the end of the long caravan line, her stout black mare tied to a tree beside her makeshift shelter which she built from the plentiful branches and trees around the area; child's play compared to building a shelter in the Harad desert. Though the rain here was far heavier and frequent, she had a small fire beneath the shelter providing her with warmth along with a way to cook the rabbit she had hunted earlier in the day; using her curved hunting knife to roast the fairly heavy meat over the fire. Her scimitar sheathed and laid against the tree her shelter propped against, along with her quiver of bamboo arrows and her bamboo composite bow currently unstrung to keep tension out of the arms; her black eyes scanning the darkness every so often knowing her presence was tolerated but not appreciated. A silk scarf was wrapped tightly around her head and neck, leaving her hair hidden but not her tattooed face, the ruby ring on her right index finger filling her body with a sense of dull warmth against the dropping temperature.

Her eyes dropped from the darkness down to the modest ruby ring rolling it around her finger slowly with the others, pulling the roasted rabbit from the edge of the flames ripping a chunk from the middle with her teeth nodding pleased with the result though she felt it needed more flavoring. Mawiyah stood up and stepped out from her hovel, grabbing the long scimitar from its resting place pulling the black leather belt around her waist buckling it tightly to hold the blade in place; walking towards the front of the caravan where the merchants would be. Wrapping the silk scarf closer to her head covering more of her face and swarthy oily skin, hoping the rain and dark would lessen the odds of any trouble being started, as any upset could end in her death something she had no intention on reaching. Sheathing her knife as well, holding the rabbit in her left hand as she approached a man with crates on a wagon which she recognized as spice crates, from her time spent in the port city of her birth; she stepped close to the man and nodded respectfully before speaking. Her accent thick and far different from any that would be found amongst the other nationalities of man, her common tongue just as fluent as Harad and black speech.

"Hello my friend, I need pepper and parsley."

The man glared at Mawiyah something she anticipated even before she ventured into the dark rain, but his glare softened as she produced several gold coins in her outstretched palm worth a bit more than the spices actual value; while his disdain for her may have been great gold conquered all. So the man retrieved the spices from a crate and set them in small rough sewn sacks handing them over in exchange for the gold, Mawiyah smiling as she nodded in thanks turning to walk back to her shelter the fire still burning gently beneath it, her lamellar brass colored steel armor catching glints of light from the others fires; leaving her right palm laid gently on the pommel of her scimitar.

Over the Misty Mountains [LOTR] [Hobbit]

Mawiyah Firyal

Name:Mawiyah Firyal

Age, Gender, Race: 29, Female, Haradrim

Appearance:
Mawiyah is a tall and lean woman with swarthy sun tanned skin and curly black hair cut just below her jaw, with a long black line tattooed across her nose just beneath her eyes; along with three black dots on her chin. Her exact height six foot one inch weighing a hundred and seventy five pounds in excellent shape from training and surviving the harsh desert lands south of Gondor.



Equipment:
-Steel brass colored lamellar armor

-Horned brazen helm

-Three and a half foot scimitar

-Bamboo composite bow

-Bamboo arrows, iron heads (x20)

-Steel curved hunting knife

-Firestarter

Personality: Mawiyah is clever and quick of mind with no shortage of low cunning to call upon, not entirely trusting of Gondorians due to the two cultures constantly clashing. Though her travels and time around the men of the west has tempered her dislike, knowing she could end up dead if she gave any reason a thirst for the world and no direction also keeping her in check to see as much of it as she can.

Story:Being that Mawiyah is quite alone and without company she is looking for any that will talk with her, using her sharp tongue and the information she has about the dark powers arising on rare occasion seriously. More often twisting it into a fable of sorts to entertain drunks while she swipes there valuables, and learns all she can about the customs and expectations of the other cultures.

Biography:Mawiyah was born in a Haradrim port city bustling with trade and baked by the powerful desert heat, the city drawing most of its wealth off of fishing and trade of spices with neighboring cities and peoples. She was raised by an average family her mother was a spice trader and her father a guard for the Lord whom ruled the city, due to the harsh nature of the Harad Mawiyah's father taught her skills necessary to survive; starting with hunting and tracking along with the use of a sword. When she became old enough Mawiyah joined the city guard like her father before her, the remote location of the city along with the vastness of the desert sparing her from any incredible battles or sieges. She dealt with pickpockets, assaults, theft and the like eventually becoming a dirty guard bored with the repetitive life and frustrated by the Lord living like a king while everyone else footed the expense. So she took bribes and looked the other way on occasion, earning herself a fairly steady pay raise also collecting from some merchants to take extra care of their stall's. A dark man cloaked entirely in black arrived one day, a poor color in the deadly heat as any could tell you, but he never removed the cloak and had an air of death and cold around his very body; something very off putting which frightened Mawiyah. Then not even three weeks past a strange man cloaked in blue was preaching to a huddled group in the dark of a tavern warning them of a great evil arising which would seek to use their people's strength, he was promptly arrested on the orders of the Lord and thrown into a cell.

Mawiyah was set to guard the cell along with others which rotated day and night in teams of two, the formerly blue cloaked man still talking with her when she cared to listen, his ramblings sounding crazed to her until mention of the black rider arose. He begged her to free him from the cell, and she eventually did one night when the palace slept she shanked the other man on duty with her convinced of the old mans stories. Using the cover of night to sneak the man from the Lord's palace an uproar spreading quickly just as they passed through the lower port gate, where he split off from Mawiyah giving her a small silver ring with a ruby stone set in the center. It always seemed to give her comfort since the moment she touched it, granting a feeling of warmth at night and soft cold during the heat of the day, obviously unable to return to her home city Mawiyah wandered north. Finding the forests nearer to Gondor and the warlike Easternling's whom occupied them to be her kind of people, getting work as a private sellsword for some time protecting wealthy merchants and other such nobles. Saving enough coin to venture into the west, running into a caravan on the way to Minas Tirith the supposed city of several dozen tiers made of all white stones in the side of a mountain. Something she yearned to see.

Over the Misty Mountains [LOTR] [Hobbit]

I'll post tomorrow.

When revolvers ruled the West - A casual/low-advanced Western RP based on various Spaghetti Westerns etc.

I'll post tomorrow, chasing bandits down.

The Titan War

Ill have a character underway soon.