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Just became a college freshman; be on sparingly

Name: Horus Mirach
Race: Elf
Weapon specialty/skills: Horus is adept at mounted combat, prefering a quick, brutal attack to a drawn out duel.
Appereance: Horus has brown hair to his chin, often hidden by his sallet. He has a scar across his nose, and a pale visage from his years in the north. He is tall, about 6' 5'', and has pointed ears and blue eyes.
Attire: A loose black tunic and trousers. For armour, Horus wears a brigandine, along with steel vambraces, greaves, and an open-faced helmet with an aventail and fur band across the brow for when things get ugly. In cold weather, he wears a fur coat.
Weapons: A steel-reinforced crossbow carried arross his back, a short szabla-type sabre across on his left hip opposite his quiver, for heavy fighting.

I'm basing his attire and fighting style off the Magyars and other European steppe people. Think Cossack with a crossbow.

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Son of Bellatrix

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Nice guys! Can't wait to start! One more bio and we can!

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(}--{)Imagination Inspires Ideas -Zandain(}--{)
Married Cloud Strife 9/17/08

Just 1 question, are there races besides humans we can play? Or was the race field just for show?

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Son of Bellatrix

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Oh, yes, you can play other races. Like elves or dwarves and the such. Sorry if I didn't make that clear!

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(}--{)Imagination Inspires Ideas -Zandain(}--{)
Married Cloud Strife 9/17/08

Ah. OK, I'll try an Elven character. Though, the mounted archer combined with the katzbalger....sounds a bit like a Magyar. The szabla would be a better cavalry weapon, anyway. Off to edit!

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Son of Bellatrix

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Ahhhhh sorry. Very sorry. Hang on!

name: Innia Misovnie
race: Dark Elf (if not, just elf is fine)
weapon specialty/skills: She's basically the cloak and dagger type. Silent kills is her specialty but she can fight with a dagger in each hand.
appearance: She's very thin and pale. Long blonde hair and black eyes.
attire: Light black tunic and pants with a dark green cloak. Armor consist of hardened leather, mostly dark
weapons: Five daggers, including one that is attached to her left hand, hidden by clothes. This one is spring-loaded, which extends the blade from her hand. As a result, her ring finger was cut off to accommodate this. (Think Assassin's Creed) Also a crossbow

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I was cured all right.

Awesome! So we're a group of five humans, an elf, and a dark elf! This sounds like it'll be interesting! Now lets get started!

~~~~~~~~~~~

Endymion leaned against the wall outside the local tavern, cleaning one of his twin swords with a rag. The wall he was leaning on was littered with wanted posters, put up by people who were too cowardly, or unskilled enough to face the bandits and things that haunted the world. Instead they hoped somebody else would do it for what little they could pay.

Endymion was one of those somebodies who took the wanted posters down and earned cash. He, and his fellow mercinaries. Upon finnishing their most recent, and first, mission, they went to the nearest town, split up, and planned to meet to choose their next mission. Someone took the target to get the pay, others went to sharpen their weapons, heal wounds(if there were any), and other most likely personal things.

The black haired mercinary looked up at the rising sun, bugling the start of a new day full of who knows what supprises...

(not the good, I know, but I'm tired...)

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(}--{)Imagination Inspires Ideas -Zandain(}--{)
Married Cloud Strife 9/17/08

Mikol stared into the glass, trying not to grimace as the cold blade scraped across his face, and again as he splashed on colder water. He rubbed his hand over his chin, enjoying the feeling of smoothness after weeks of an itchy beard. There was no time to stop and shave when pursuing merchandise. Thoughts flitting to said merchandise, on its way to be traded for hard cash, and he smirked. That had been an interesting chase, to say the least. Thank the light -or darks, he wasn't particular- that he got out of it with less than broken ribs or arms.

Five minutes later Mikol was out on the street near Endymion. With a nod in greeting, he sat on his heels and began testing his bow. Everything seemed to be in working order, so he unstrung it and started on his daggers. He soon collected a neat pile at his feet, gleaming and sharp.

"Hope they get back with the money soon. Ale and hot food would be welcome." Mikol shaded his eyes against the strengthening sun, hoping for a glimpse of coins walking his way. Preferably running.

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going on a journey through my old claims

Orlan stalked behind their newest pay check. The man was rather large, so it was no small wonder that she was able to push him about so - Orlan was not a big woman by any stretch of the imagination. The man was drugged, of course, but the other people in the street didn't know that, so the awed stares at the tiny woman tugging the large man like a dog gave her ego an unnecessary boost.

She could not decide why this target was needed alive - these jobs were the worst because of the carting. Oh well, I'll be over now anyway, she thought as she gave the man's rope a sharp tug leading him to the doorway banging on it harshly.

Orlan pushed him inside, argued a bit with the customer, whom she decided wanted revenge himself thus the alive stipulation and then walked away with a pretty leather pouch filled with gold. She shook the purse by her ear - best sound in the world.

It didn't take her long to find Endymion and Mikol, and she figured she was fairly recognizable - there were few in the world that had hair as curly.

"Oi! Endm'on, Mikol!" She yelled out before she got level with the two. " 've got ourselves some tuckah' and what'eva else ya heart desire....all in 'ere," she said waving the pouch in front of their faces. "Believe you be owin' som'un a thank ya."

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Heavens no. Hell Yeah.


Set 1: Nurr | Set 2: Me

The sun was rising, it's fiery shimmer obliterating the darkness. Morvynn stretched lazily and blinked as a shaft of light broke through a gap in a nearby tree. She turned on her heels and picked up her twin blades and placed them in sheaths that were strapped to her back. Picking up her cloak, she folded it up as neat as she could and placed it in a canvas bag and draped the strap about her shoulder, flicking her long blonde hair over it. Lastly she picked up her staff, she smiled as her hand gripped the wood. It was time to go meet up with the others, see if anyone had any luck in capturing any merchandise.

Morvynn walked through the dense woodland forest, always taking note of it's beauty. Beauty that in the night skies, could become intimidating and unwelcoming to the unsuspecting traveller. Morvynn had no such fears during the day or night. Always alert, though not as alert as her Elven comrade in arms. Morvynn on the outside looked innocent, almost fragile. But was a ferocious warrior when provoked. This was something she had learned to use to her advantage.

The voice of Orlan broke Morvynn's thoughts as she came out the edge of the woods and towards the tavern that was to be the groups meeting place. She smiled at her friends enthusiasm and also the rather appealing bag of money that she dangled in her hand.

"Job well done I see, Orlan" Morvynn called out to her with a grin.

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Horus slung his crossbow over an armoured shoulder, the wood giving loud clack. The Elf drew curious glances from the town's denizens, but one look at the symbol on his brigandine had them shying away. The crest of the Makdera was a feared emblem in these lands, but to Horus it was as natural as the fletching of his bolts.

He made no sound as he stepped up to his fellow mercenaries, tossing a ring set with an emerald in his hands. His wife would enjoy such a trinket, and he needed something to show for his months long absence. Nodding to his comrades, he whistled sharply and waited for his light horse to trot over. Still silent, he dug out his coat from his saddlebags and rubbed his mare's nose, whispering to her in his own tongue. Giving her a light slap on the rump to send her away, he stood his crossbow aganst the wall of the tavern and pulled the fur garment, cinching his swordblet over the coat. Then, he picked up his bow and leaned against the wall.

"What news? We have an assignment, or are we going to loiter in this cesspit for a while?" He asked, scanning the streets. A young boy ran across the dirt path, and dashed into a small house, prsued by several other, older boys.

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Son of Bellatrix

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Just became a college freshman; be on sparingly

The sun's beautiful rays slowly crept over the horizon striking the sleeping Innia. She groaned, loathing the fact that she had to get up. She buried her head into the bag that she used as a pillow, tugging the cloak closer to her petite body. When she could no longer elude the seeking rays, she opened her eyes, burned by the sudden flare of light. She flailed her arms wildly, upsetting the bottle of wine that she had been sipping before she went to sleep. Rich crimson liquid poured from the tipped bottle like a flood of blood. She swore at her misfortune so early in the day as she stretched, her sore muscles moaning in pain. Her legs fared little better. But at least she didn't have any wounds caused by blade or arrow.

She quickly donned her cloak and her bag, before making sure the two eyeballs that was requested were still inside the small velvet bag. Then putting the crossbow around on her back, she began to run. Not that she was in any rush. She could find a job with or without her "friends". But rather to enjoy the feeling of running. The way her legs took off the ground and came back again. The spring in her feet as they pushed off the ground. Keeping a steady pace, she reached the outskirts of the town they were supposed to meet.

She stopped, getting a breather before she walked, her hood resting at the back of her neck. Wearing it up will only attract attention and she could not afford that. She weaved her way through the crowd, gently dodging the people on their way to their business.

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I was cured all right.

"Allo there, Morvynn. See lads, at leas' someone's got a sense of propriety," she joked, looking towards the blond. The name never failed to make her smile, as it was such an opposite to the woman. She had told her as much when they first met. She'd been expecting some tall black haired lass and then in walks the tiny blond.

Orlan tossed the bag to Endymion, "I already pulled me wages," she said holding out her hand to show the five gold pieces.

Although a mercenary by trade the woman still had a disturbingly strong sense of right and wrong...well when it came to her comrades. In her line of work it was good to have those that trusted you somewhat, and knew that you wouldn't go behind there back.

"I call for wallowin'," she replied to Horus. "I need to get myself a new pair o' boots. Mine are just about done for," she said looking sorrowfully down at the leather boots that were starting to crack and tear from too much use.

It was another one of her habits, going through boots, she tended to need a new pair at the end of every mission - she expected a lot from them and they never seemed up to the task. Orlan was just thankful that this pair suffered in silence, their predecessor sounded like she had ducks for feet after a few months.

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Heavens no. Hell Yeah.


Set 1: Nurr | Set 2: Me

Endymion watched as one by one the group met up. He finally put his sword away when the last of them showed up. But still he didn't say anything because he was like that. Usually quiet and thoughtfull. A flicker of a smile came to the corner of his mouth as he listened to his 'friends'.

The money bag got tossed to him, which was easily caught with his figher reflexes. The swordsman opened the bag, and poored some of it into a gloved palm before placing it back it. Deliberatly he pulled out five pieces of gold for himself, and tossed the bag to the person on his left.

When he did finally speak, his words were almost hushed. Just loud enough for only his six 'friends' to hear over the racket and crowds that were starting to fill the market around the tavern they were just outside of.

"Before anyone showed up I was seeing which one of these bounties would bring in the most to our purses," he said in his low, rough voice that could almost sound like a stormy ocean crashing against rock, and pointing to the wall he leaned on with his thumb. "Turns out it's none of them. A noble was in town and is traveling East, and is paying fifty gold to each person willing to guard their caravan of two wagons and a carriage. They are also supplying horses if needed."

He paused for a moment, clear blue eyes gazing at every face at their expressions, each weathered and full of the wizdom the comes with battle.

"The caravan leaves at noon. I told them if we all agreed on it, we will meet them on the Eastern edge of town at the appointed departure time. This gives us time to get warm meals, long overdue drinks, and to make sure our equipment is good," another of his fleeting smiles came to the corner of his mouth before it was gone. "What do you all say to this?"

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(}--{)Imagination Inspires Ideas -Zandain(}--{)
Married Cloud Strife 9/17/08