Shadows danced across the path, casting darkness over ferns and moss. The sunbeams that both created and dispelled the shadows were slowly gaining in intensity and increasing in angle, unperturbed by the problems of man, which were very hasty and pointless compared to the thousands of years that those same sunbeams had cast shadows in the same forest.

The path wound its way through the forest for miles, eventually breaking out into the open and beginning a short yet steep ascent. It was along that slope that a small man was plodding. His pace was far from constant, though; he scurried along for short distances, then he would slow drastically, inch along almost hesitantly.

The reason for his uncertainty was also visible, in a manner of speaking--on the crest of the hill, a massive wall was visible, along with wide-open gates in the middle of it, which the path ran through. Above that was nothing. There should have been the glimmer of the morning sunlight on the helms of the sentries, and several plumes of smoke as the cooks prepared breakfast. But the frontier fortress of Andayon was still. There was no sound from within.

And so it was that the man reached the top of the hill, and passed into the fortress through the gates. Actually, he didn't go all of the way in at first. He stopped as still as a stone right on the threshold, his eyes bulging with terror, his mouth stretching open in a shrill scream, which he held all of the way down the hill, where he barely paused to catch his breath before he continued running.

A fist impacted on a table. High Captain Fionn Melwyn was the youngest commander in the history of the Empire--at least, the youngest to have been the Supreme Commander, under the Emperor. Tall, handsome, with a prowess in arms that few could equal, and an intellect and understanding of tactics to match it, he was extremely good at what he did. And yet he pounded the table in frustration.

"How do they know?" he asked, his voice tinged with his anger. The object of the question, a mere First Captain, shook his head in helplessness, wondering at the attitude of his commander--Melwyn never let any emotions into his voice, except for joy, occasionally.

The High Captain traced his finger over a map on the table. Every known detail about the Talyran Empire's territory was on that map in crystal clarity. All too much remained blank. All of the ocean that was in and around their archipelago was charted, of course, but so many of the islands were merely blank shapes, without any more information than the name of it.

"Every move we make towards finding them, they know of, and all we gain is more casualties. Every move. And they could be on almost any of these islands, with so many deep rivers and bays." Melwyn sighed. "For now, there is only one course of action that I see," he said, "and I pray to the Creator that there will be others soon."

He took the quill out of an inkwell on the table and wrote rapidly on a piece of parchment, blew on it to dry it out, then folded it and sealed it with wax in the imprint of his signet ring.

"It may take you several weeks or even months to find them all, but I think that they are our best chance, for now. I trust that you remember that they have all done us services before, so you don't need to do everything that almost got you killed out of annoyance last time. Take several men when you go, and make sure that when you come back, they are with you." Melwyn handed the sealed parchment to First Captain Karrd Iyrdannal, then stalked out of the room, out of the building, and into the street, where his nondescript clothing blended right in among the poorest section of the capitol city of the Talyran Empire of the Archipelago. With luck, nobody would even know that he had been there.

-----------------------------------

Okay, so this is a new RPG thought up by myself with a considerable amount of assistance and prompting from Ellie. Mucho thanks to you, Ellie.

There hasn't been much activity in this part of the forum recently, so we both put in a little effort to come up with this. However, we had to settle on a compromise. A lot of us come here daily, or even multiple times every day, or like me, pretty much stay on here all day. However, a lot of us don't get on daily, or more than once or twice every day. Therefore, our primary rule is slightly different than normal. One post per weekday, though more than one on weekends. Hopefully, all of you will be able to post at least once every two days, but for the sake of keeping slow enough for those with less free time to not get lost, nobody is allowed to post more than once per weekday.

All of the RPers will be playing characters who are trackers, hunters, warriors, etc., as they try to stop the threat to the Empire. The Imperial Army has at least one mole in it, rather high up, because information is somehow getting out to the enemy. The enemy, in this case, isn't even known. They've never been seen--only the scenes of their ambushes and massacres dictate that they even exist.

Btw, all characters must be human and not in the Imperial army. There aren't any elves or anything like that in this RPG.

So. Rules.

#1. One post per weekday.
#2. No playing (or really doing anything to) other people's characters without their express permission.
#3. No powergaming. That means make your characters as believable as possible. In other words, try to avoid having a character that's an MS.
#4. Please, please, please try to use correct grammar and spelling. It saves the rest of us from a lot of confusion.
#5. Please make sure that there is some content to your posts. Something that will give somebody else something to post about.

Perhaps more rules will be added if I think that they're needed, but for now, that's all.

Btw, all characters must be human and not in the Imperial army. There aren't any elves or anything like that in this RPG.

Character template:

Name:
Gender:
Age:
Occupation:
Phys. Description (please include hair colour, eye colour, etc.):
Attire:
Weapon(s):
Background:

-------Characters-----

Name: Arren Frondhaven (Aerandir)
Age: 31
Occupation: Thief-hunter/Tracker
Phys. Description: Arren has short black hair and grey eyes, relatively pale skin, and is around 6'1" (185 cm) and of a relatively average build.
Attire: Generally, Arren wears brown and green clothing, with boiled-leather pauldrons and steel vambraces.
Weapon(s): Long, two-handed sword with a slightly-curved blade; a bow/arrows; and a pair of hunting knives.
Background: Arren makes a living hunting down criminals among the many islands that make up the archipelago. His father did the same until his death a few years before the setting of the RPG. Arren normally uses only his bow, but he trained extensively with his sword after a rather harrowing experience with a more-highly-skilled criminal. He also hunts down creatures that pose threats to colonies, etc--i.e., large nasty beasties that keep wiping out flocks and shepherds. Because of the nature of his job, he's worked with the Imperial Army quite a few times, due to the lack of a separate police force, and the fact that a lot of the Empire is still uncivilized, barbarian country.

Name: Danil Tharkan (Elegost Eruaphadion)
Gender: Male
Age: 47
Physical Description: Danil Tharkan is a well rounded man. Broad yet wiry, he has the strength of an ox, but gladly not the temper. He has thin, greying hair, and a gaunt looking face, that whispers of hardships gone by, and much experience. His pale, icy blue eyes further enhance his older looking face, but they shine with a youthful endurance. A lone scar runs down his left cheek, hardening an otherwise soft face that was once very handsome.
History: Danil Tharkan grew up in house Tharkan, the prominent family on Craandor Isle, famous, and indeed wealthy, for its tobacco and ale. His brother, Regan, took government of Craandor, and Danil, shying away from politics and the island’s economy, went instead to join the island’s small army, which sends annually a selection of men to serve nationally. Instead of assuming Captaincy from the start, he decided to train with the men, thus earning their respect and friendship. Craandor is known for heading a cavalry regiment, an otherwise unusual tactical decision with the terrain, but much honour has been bestowed upon Craandor for its fine horsemen which have turned the tide in battle many a time.
Attire/Equipment: In battle, Danil wears a steel plated chest plate, engraved with the symbol of Craandor: a lone eight pointed gold and silver star. With this he wears a steel plated fauld, with black velvet under-cloth with gold stars embroidered onto it. Matching vambraces, pauldrons and greaves complete the armour. He wears a black velvet cloak to match, fastened with pins in the shape of Craandor’s star. Craandor’s men are also famed for their choice in weaponry; on horseback, they prefer lances, but on foot they favour a slightly curved light one handed sword. Danil carries such a katana, but his favoured weapon is the Glaive, to which he puts to devastating affect both on foot and mounted.

Name: Fyreg Kalgaar (Curunìr)
Gender: Male
Age: 25
Occupation: A bounty hunter, currently working for the army all tough likes to think that he is an independent worker
Phys. Description: Fyreg has very noticeable reddish long hair down to his shoulders, but he prefers to keep them on a ponytail. His face is carelessly shaved with few strands of beard around his mouth and chin, he has grayish eyes and a somewhat tanned skin. Fyreg is relatively strongly built, but it he appears quite thin as if the muscles on his body had been forced in like it was against his very nature to have them.
Attire: He wears otherwise simple black clothing with brown boots and gloves underneath his chain mail armor that sacrifices defense capabilities for agility compared to a plate armor. On his back he wears a simple, brown traveling cloak.
Weapon(s): As his main weapon Fyreg wields a flail and a light round shield, as secondary weapons he carries a short sword on his belt and a knife hidden in his armor sleeve.
Background:[/b] Fyreg originates from humble beginnings as a street child, he never came to rely on others and hated those with greater wealth than him. His life(like any other street child's) was diverted to crime and for a short period of time he became a thug, he was relatively happy with his life and had gained a somewhat fearsome reputation on the streets due to his flail use. Yet Fyreg did not find himself long satisfied with staying around the same spot for petty tasks of threatening merchants and beating up anyone who opposed his boss. He left the thieves guild he had been serving and set out as a bounty hunter as he had heard it was good business, thus greed was his only motivation for now.

His work at first was hard and capturing or killing targets proved an arduous task from time to time, but his work again paid off. He created himself a reputation and gained a deal of coin along the way, just enough for the army to take interest in him. As the army was the only law enforcers around, they were the one`s paying Fyreg and thus decided to offer him a stable working position with the army. Fyreg gladly took up the offer, mainly because he counted that he would make a better living with a proper agreement with the army.

Yet despite all this, Fyreg never claims to work for the army out of devotion or loyalty to the empire, he simply says he will stay on that path until something more profitable comes along. As his opinion clearly indicates, he is simply a bounty hunter still and nothing more.

Name: Nienna (Niënna Undómë)
Gender: Female
Age: 22
Occupation: Warrior
Phys. Description: Nienna has long auburn hair, piercing hazel eyes, and a pretty but pale face. She is around 5"9
Attire: A light suit of chainmail, with leather covering it, Steel vambraces, boots, and shoulderpads.
Weapon(s): Twin short swords, Bow and arrows. Hunting knife.
Background: Nienna spends most of her days training her skills for when she will need them. She makes a living by doing jobs for peasants, mostly combat associated. Ask if you want any more info.

Name: Raignheidra Terhin (generally shortened to Raign [rine], especially by those who call her Lady Raign) [Meldawen]
Gender: Female
Age: 24
Occupation: Leader of a small independent band of warriors, primarily male but a few female.
Phys. Description: Darker brown hair generally braided and coiled around her head. Hazel eyes. Moderate skin tone, generally from being out in the sun, and moderate build. Has trained with weapons for seven years, but focuses on agility and speed rather than muscle. Might be pretty if she cared more about her appearance, and looks very nice in a dress if not so much in armor. Scars from various battles.
Attire: Loose breeches tucked into boots, tunic with leather jerkin and light armor. Not much, in order to maximize her ability to move quickly. Wears a silver ring with a lapis lazuli stone on a chain around her neck, generally under her clothes.
Weapon(s): Excellent aim with a bow and arrow, but also carries a light rapier for close combat.
Background: Daughter of the King of the Jewel Isles until age 19, when the division of the court that had been developing for the last decade came to a head, and gruesome civil war erupted. Powerful magicians were allied with both sides, and dueled furiously in the final clash, causing thousands of deaths. The end result was a ravaged realm and a pitifully small surviving band of warriors led by their Princess, who at that point was a 17-year-old Raign, whose parents and younger siblings died in the fighting. For five years they worked to ensure vengeance was had on those who rebelled, and when the last were dead the band became an independent and almost mercenary group, led still by the Princess, who is no longer known as such. Her followers call her Lady Raign, but her older brother is simply Lucan, and even now not all know her as Lady.

Name: Aidne Sarasdat (Valera Elenhathel)
Gender: Female
Age: 24
Occupation: Clandestine Operator, aka jack of all shadows
Phys. Description: Brown hair, green eyes. Height: 5'4", lithe and acrobatic, but her height (or lack of it) makes her appear almost frail, or at least in need of protection. Her features are well-proportioned, but not very memorable.
Attire: Whatever makes her blend in, which is usually a dress and kerchief, or a dark blouse and breeches for nighttime work. There is a leather cord with a silver godscharm that she always wears around her neck.
Weapon(s): Throwing stars, several knives, a fine steel strangling chain
Background: As a child with only a mother, Aidne always seemed to end where she wasn't supposed to be. After a short, rough childhood in the slums of the Empire's capital city, she realized she could put this talent to good use as an informer for that area's thief-lord, who valued her open ears, shut mouth, and nondescript appearance. After a series of events, which she has never fully revealed, she was sought out by a military Captain, and has not looked back since. Besides providing intelligence, her commissions have ranged into anything that the military needs done, but can't do in the public eye. Although soft-spoken, she has an intimate knowledge of the shadow-world, a backbone of steel, and some long-term grudges.

Name: Garvan Breen (Elenya)
Gender: Male
Age: 41
Occupation: Weapons trainer
Phys. Description: Garvan is about six feet tall, lean and strong. He has short brown hair, green eyes, and dark, tanned skin. His face is blunt and lined, with a strong chin, wide cheekbones, and jutting nose.
Attire: When he's not training, he wears simple, practical tunic, pants, and a jacket. When he is training, he wears a leather breastplate over a chain mail shirt. He also has leather vambraces and greaves.
Weapon(s): Being a weapons trainer, Garvan knows how to use quite a few weapons with at least passable skill. His strengths, though, lie in the sword, bow, and throwing knife. He owns an unadorned broadsword, a hunting bow and arrows, and a pair of daggers.
Background: When Garvan was a young man, he joined his country's army. After seven years, he left the army to marry. He and his wife, Siyem, moved to a large city, where he found work as a weapons trainer. They don't have any children.

Name: Laraina Endymion (Eruraina Aniarure)
Gender: female
Age: 18
Occupation: hunter/tracker
Phys. Description: she's average height, standing around 6 foot. Has black hair just above shoulders, usually messy. Grey eyes. She's thin, and her form is somewhat masculine, as is her face.
Attire: black trousers, along with brown leather calf-high boots. a blue long sleeve shirt, with green vest, brown jacket, green cloak- all dull and worn. And black gloves that go up to her shoulders under her jacket and shirt.
Weapon(s): a longsword, bow/arrows, hunting knife
Background: Her mother was a papur(sp?), her father hunted near in the small forest that her family lived on in a small village. He father taught her to track, and how to use a bow. When she was 15 her parents sent her to school on a bigger island. The year after she left, when she came to visit she found her village destroyed, and the villagers pilled and burned. Around and in the town were clawmarks, not foot or bootprins. So around her neck she wheres a slightly melted ring with a diamond on a chain that was her mother's that she found.

To get revenge, she traveled to island after island, searching for all the beastes she could to get her revenge. Through experience she taught herself to fight with a sword. Along with doing that, she hunts deer and such, selling the meat and pelts to merchants and clerks to earn money to get by.

Name: Altair (The~Doctor)
Gender: Male
Age: 29
Occupation: Bounty Hunter/Tracker sort of person
Phys. Description: He has short brown hair with just the slightest indication of a beard growing on his face. Altair has hazel eyes he inherited from his mother. He is around 5’ 11” in height.
Attire: http://i123.photobucket.com/albums/o298 ... maller.jpg
Weapon(s): Altair carries a hidden blade on his left arm, a plain longsword, two throwing knives, and a crossbow. While he is fairly accurate with the crossbow and deadly accurate with the knives, Altair isn’t the greatest fighter with his sword, so he tries to avoid direct confrontation if it is at all possible.
Background: Altair makes his living hunting down anyone that has a bounty on his or her head, whether a legal or illegal bounty doesn’t matter. Neither does it bother him if it is an ‘only paid if dead’ bounty; or in other, less civilized words, an assassination. He achieved a reputation somewhat akin to honor because if you offer him more money to capture or kill his current employer, he will steadfastly refuse even if you offer him two or three times what he will get from your bounty.

Both of his parents were killed during a botched assassination attempt on someone totally unrelated to them in their simple lives when Altair was only 10. If that assassin had tried gathering his own intelligence instead of blindly trusting what other told him, Altair’s life would have been so much different. He would never have become a bounty hunter to track down and kill the man who had ruined his life. That was his lifelong goal, and Altair made sure that he would be able to follow through with his vow of vengeance against this unknown man. He eventually fashioned his trademark weapon, which he simply calls his ‘hidden blade,’ and also his personal signature of a white hawk’s feather left at the scene of either the kidnapping or assassination.

Once Altair managed to find and kill the man who had killed his parents, he had become too used to a life on the move, a life of adventure that he knew that he would never be able to settle down again. So he continued doing jobs for people. These days, those ‘people’ are often the Imperial Army, so Altair wasn’t really surprised when his next job came from them.

Name: Líadán Selmarin (Aerlinniel ó Eressëa)
Age: 27
Occupation: Huntress, Travelling Musician/Professional Beggar (when in need of money )
Phys. Description: About 5’8, green eyes, blonde. Long days spent travelling and being outside tanned her skin to a darker tone than is at the moment considered fashionable for ladies. It’s a good thing she can hardly be called a Lady than. Líadán looks younger and less experienced than she really is.
Attire/Equipment: She usually wears dark blue or green tunics, boots and trousers. She doesn’t dislike dresses or bright clothes, but it’s hardly practical for her to wear them.
Background: Líadán is an innkeeper’s daughter. Her mother died when she was 3, and her dad never really had time for her. Maybe that was why she discovered, maybe at a somewhat too young age, many ways to get other people’s money. Her brother Kyllain discovered this and tried to make her stop stealing, but with no success. Her father soon discovered this too, when some guest actually noticed her stealing their stuff. That, combined with her determined/stubborn and independent personality, did not make her a very likeable person. It wasn’t long after that when her dad asked a travelling musician, who came to the village for the Summer feasts, to take her with him. Líadán was only 11 by then, but a fiery and hard-to-handle 11 year old nonetheless. The musician agreed ( though he had probably been convinced with a lot money), and that was when Líadán’s life-on-the-road started. She turned out to be quite musical, and for the first time in her life, actually earned money instead of stealing it. Maybe she was just growing up, maybe it was just the old musician influencing her, but Líadán slowly stopped stealing: she didn’t need it anymore anyway. She does still have the stealth and skill of a good thief though, and the sense of honor of one too. This doesn’t mean she’s a bad person though: she’s just practical. She doesn’t really care about what other people think, thinks practical, and is blunt when she feels like it. She now spends her time hunting and travelling ( of course making music when she feels like it and needs money. She hasn’t got a problem with playing the poor, blind beggar either…Using other people’s compassion is an easy way to earn money.) She sometimes steals things for this or that little Kingdom, and has never been caught yet. Maybe that is why she has been called to this meeting? She has no idea. Or maybe it’s her connections with the travelers and less legal citizens of the Empire.

_________________

*should be doing school* Oh I'lljoinI'lljoinI'lljoin!!!

_________________

Welcome, Melda and Ellie...though Ellie's kind of 'been here' from the first, since he helped think it up.

_________________

I'd like to join, too! I think I could manage one post a day. lol

So as far as I understood it, there are no mages, clerics etc allowed? Well np..

Name: Fyreg Kalgaar
Age: 25
Occupation: A bounty hunter, currently working for the army all tough likes to think that he is an independent worker
Phys. Description Fyreg has very noticeable reddish long hair down to his shoulders, but he prefers to keep them on a ponytail. His face is carelessly shaved with few strands of beard around his mouth and chin, he has grayish eyes and a somewhat tanned skin. Fyreg is relatively strongly built, but it he appears quite thin as if the muscles on his body had been forced in like it was against his very nature to have them.
Attire: He wears otherwise simple black clothing with brown boots and gloves underneath his chain mail armor that sacrifices defense capabilities for agility compared to a plate armor. On his back he wears a simple, brown traveling cloak.
Weapon(s): As his main weapon Fyreg wields a flail and a light round shield, as secondary weapons he carries a short sword on his belt and a knife hidden in his armor sleeve.
Background: Fyreg originates from humble beginnings as a street child, he never came to rely on others and hated those with greater wealth than him. His life(like any other street child's) was diverted to crime and for a short period of time he became a thug, he was relatively happy with his life and had gained a somewhat fearsome reputation on the streets due to his flail use. Yet Fyreg did not find himself long satisfied with staying around the same spot for petty tasks of threatening merchants and beating up anyone who opposed his boss. He left the thieves guild he had been serving and set out as a bounty hunter as he had heard it was good business, thus greed was his only motivation for now.

His work at first was hard and capturing or killing targets proved an arduous task from time to time, but his work again paid off. He created himself a reputation and gained a deal of coin along the way, just enough for the army to take interest in him. As the army was the only law enforcers around, they were the one`s paying Fyreg and thus decided to offer him a stable working position with the army. Fyreg gladly took up the offer, mainly because he counted that he would make a better living with a proper agreement with the army.

Yet despite all this, Fyreg never claims to work for the army out of devotion or loyalty to the empire, he simply says he will stay on that path until something more profitable comes along. As his opinion clearly indicates, he is simply a bounty hunter still and nothing more.

_________________

Let him curse my name
On these blood stained pages of misery
Let him call me a tyrant so cruel
Let him curse my name, but remember the truth!

Sounds good.

Name: Nienna (girl)
Age: 22
Occupation: Warrior
Phys. Description: Nienna has long auburn hair, piercing hazel eyes, and a pretty but pale face. She is around 5"9
Attire: A light suit of chainmail, with leather covering it, Steel vambraces, boots, and shoulderpads.
Weapon(s): Twin short swords, Bow and arrows. Hunting knife.
Background: Nienna spends most of her days training her skills for when she will need them. She makes a living by doing jobs for peasants, mostly combat associated. Ask if you want any more info.

Also, are our charries allowed horses?

_________________

<center>


~Thank you to Estë Undómë for the Beeeautiful Banners & Avvie <3 ~

Name: Raignheidra Terhin (generally shortened to Raign [rine], especially by those who call her Lady Raign)
Age: 24
Occupation: Leader of a small independent band of warriors, primarily male but a few female.
Phys. Description: Darker brown hair generally braided and coiled around her head. Hazel eyes. Moderate skin tone, generally from being out in the sun, and moderate build. Has trained with weapons for seven years, but focuses on agility and speed rather than muscle. Might be pretty if she cared more about her appearance, and looks very nice in a dress if not so much in armor. Scars from various battles.
Attire: Loose breeches tucked into boots, tunic with leather jerkin and light armor. Not much, in order to maximize her ability to move quickly. Wears a silver ring with a lapis lazuli stone on a chain around her neck, generally under her clothes.
Weapon(s): Excellent aim with a bow and arrow, but also carries a light rapier for close combat.
Background: Daughter of the King of the Jewel Isles until age 19, when the division of the court that had been developing for the last decade came to a head, and gruesome civil war erupted. Powerful magicians were allied with both sides, and dueled furiously in the final clash, causing thousands of deaths. The end result was a ravaged realm and a pitifully small surviving band of warriors led by their Princess, who at that point was a 17-year-old Raign, whose parents and younger siblings died in the fighting. For five years they worked to ensure vengeance was had on those who rebelled, and when the last were dead the band became an independent and almost mercenary group, led still by the Princess, who is no longer known as such. Her followers call her Lady Raign, but her older brother is simply Lucan, and even now not all know her as Lady.

_________________

count me in! gimme a bit to come up with a bio, something not too MSish...

EDIT

Name: Aidne Sarasdat
Age: 24
Occupation: Clandestine Operator, aka jack of all shadows
Phys. Description (please include hair colour, eye colour, etc.): Brown hair, green eyes. Height: 5'4", lithe and acrobatic, but her height (or lack of it) makes her appear almost frail, or at least in need of protection. Her features are well-proportioned, but not very memorable.
Attire: Whatever makes her blend in, which is usually a dress and kerchief, or a dark blouse and breeches for nighttime work. There is a leather cord with a silver godscharm that she always wears around her neck.
Weapon(s): Throwing stars, several knives, a fine steel garrotte
Background: As a child with only a mother, Aidne always seemed to end where she wasn't supposed to be. After a short, rough childhood in the slums of the Empire's capital city, she realized she could put this talent to good use as an informer for that area's thief-lord, who valued her open ears, shut mouth, and nondescript appearance. After a series of events, which she has never fully revealed, she was sought out by a military Captain, and has not looked back since. Besides providing intelligence, her commissions have ranged into anything that the military needs done, but can't do in the public eye. Although soft-spoken, she has an intimate knowledge of the shadow-world, a backbone of steel, and some long-term grudges.

_________________


<center>Nothing but the Rain</center>

Here's my character!

Name: Garvan Breen
Age: 41
Occupation: Weapons trainer
Phys. Description: Garvan is about six feet tall, lean and strong. He has short brown hair, green eyes, and dark, tanned skin. His face is blunt and lined, with a strong chin, wide cheekbones, and jutting nose.
Attire: When he's not training, he wears simple, practical tunic, pants, and a jacket. When he is training, he wears a leather breastplate over a chain mail shirt. He also has leather vambraces and greaves.
Weapon(s): Being a weapons trainer, Garvan knows how to use quite a few weapons with at least passable skill. His strengths, though, lie in the sword, bow, and throwing knife. He owns an unadorned broadsword, a hunting bow and arrows, and a pair of daggers.
Background: When Garvan was a young man, he joined his country's army. After seven years, he left the army to marry. He and his wife, Siyem, moved to a large city, where he found work as a weapons trainer. They don't have any children.


Anything I should change? I'll be playing his wife. (She probably won't be that involved in the story, and doesn't really need her own bio.)

Yayness and welcome, everyone. I like the bios.

Niënna, it's probably better if they don't all have horses at the start--most likely, they'll get horses at some point in the story, but since this is all taking place in an archipelago, which is basically a big cluster of islands, it's not too practical for people who are constantly going back and forth between them to have horses.

Valera, would the 'steel strangling chain' be something akin to a garrotte?

---------------In-Character Post----------

The ship had not much more than reached the dock before Arren Frondhaven was off of it, striding into the city of Thoronus, the Talyrian capitol. Several weeks earlier, he had received a visit from a most interesting fraud. First Captain Karrd Iyrdannal possessed entirely the wrong air of self-confidence to be dressed in peasant clothes. Even in relatively shapeless clothes that hung off of people like bags, Iyrdannal's efforts to conceal his rigid military posture were blatantly obvious.

Still, he had a very interesting message. That was why Arren was now wandering through the boisterous streets of Thoronus, beleaguered with the sounds of merchants hawking their wares, of children running and laughing, and a brawl that was developing off to one side. Cities had never been something he enjoyed.

He walked for over an hour, slowly leaving the richer sections of the city behind, until he reached a section where the streets were little more than muddy morasses, in which pitiful beggars sprawled, their hands outstretched in the vain hope that someone would give them something with which to buy their next meal. He pulled the cowl of his cloak farther up around his face, and made certain that the cloak was still held tightly closed. He had made certain that his boots wouldn't look out of place among the lesser denizens of the city, but if he accidently let his cloak flare open, his garb, sword, quiver, and bow would be a dead giveaway that he was not at all a normal lesser denizen. It certainly was troublesome, though, trying to make sure that his bow, sword, and quiver weren't noticeable through the cloak, with their annoying tendency to stick into things. For that matter, trying to walk with a bow stretching the length of his leg, along with a sword and quiver on the other, was rather difficult.

After a few inquiries, he reached the building he had been told to go to. It looked completely ordinary, with its shutters closed, door closed, and chipped and worn brick along the side. He stepped up to the door, and glancing surreptitiously around, knocked softly. A moment later, he heard the sound of something heavy being moved from the door--probably a bar, and then the door opened, and he went in.

The door was immediately closed behind him, and Arren looked around as the heavy bar was lowered into place across the door again. His eyes widened slightly when he saw who was doing the lowering. He opened his mouth, remembered where they were, and changed what he was going to say. "Melwyn," he said, knuckling his forehead in a show of respect. After all, he could hardly label the man as High Captain after all the trouble he had gone through to get here without arrousing any suspicions. Few would suspect that 'Melwyn' was the High Captain, though, unless someone was stupid enough to say that title out loud.

The High Captain was alone in the room, and most likely in the entire building, which seemed considerably larger than it looked from the outside.

"This house is actually connected with two others," Melwyn said, explaining the unusual proportions. "Then we can exit from several different doors, just in case we were followed."

Arren nodded. It was a sensible precaution. "Have any others shown up, yet?" he asked. Iyrdannnal hadn't mentioned anything about any others, but for it to be important enough to send a First Captain as a messenger, one thief-hunter would be inadequate.

"Just one, so far." Melwyn's voice betrayed no emotion whatsoever. The man should have made a living playing cards--his face might as well have been made of stone for all it gave away.

From the shadows in the corner, where the bars of light coming in between the old shutters didn't reach, another man stepped forward, and Arren blinked. From the footfalls, the man was clearly heavy, and with his cloak thrown back that way, it was also obvious why he was so heavy. He wore a hauberk, but he also had not just one, but three short swords, a flanged mace, and a crossbow and quiver of bolts with him. The man was practically a walking armoury.

"Just what are we up against, then?" he asked faintly, wondering if he would be underprotected, then, wearing only several layers of cloth.

"Wait for the others, and you will find out," Melwyn said, sitting down in one of the room's few chairs.

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(mybad. Cut me some slack, I wrote that at 3am.)

Aidne lay flat on the rooftop, ignoring the late morning sun that, although bright, was disputing its place in the sky with an intermittent overcast. Her attention, as it had been for the past hour, lay focused on the block of houses across the street. Every passerby was inspected with her sharp eyes - the obnoxious merchants, the placid housewives, the pathetic beggars, and the thin, wiry street brats. She'd been one of them, many years ago. She still was.

The message, given her by one of her routine military contacts, had requested the pleasure of her company, in the house across the street, in about two minutes' time. Put on her guard by the unusual summons, she'd spent the past hour surveilling the house. It had been worth her while. Half an hour had passed; a man had entered, civilian clothing softening, but not disguising, the erectness of his posture and purpose of his bearing. Military, then. As he opened the door, he'd turned to face the street, and she had recognized the shape of his jaw, the lines about his mouth - she'd seen them a few times before. The High Captain! This was getting more interesting.

Fifteen minutes later, another man had followed - and he practically clanked when he walked. Now, the latest arrival, his face carefully shadowed by his cowl, had entered. There was something slightly halting about his gait - and then she saw the abrupt outline of a sword-hilt as the wind teased the cloak tighter about the man's leg, and she almost grinned. This "meeting" had either the makings of a well-armed trap, or the beginnings of something dangerous.

Very well, then.

She found her way easily down from the roof, stooping at the side of the house to shake the collected dust off of her rough blue homespun dress, then pick up the covered basket, containing a few loaves of bread and some vegetables. Before coming out of the shadow of the house, she loosened the knives at her wrists and adjusted the kerchief covering her hair, just as another man walked up to the door and hammered on it uncouthly. His cloak quickly proclaimed him to be from one of the outer islands - and fairly well-off.

Adopting a world-weary posture, she crossed the street and added her timid knock, then ducked her head again, folding her hands over each other in a position of humility - and easy access to her weapons. She stood almost shoulder-to-shoulder with the older man on the narrow doorstep; she preferred to be inside his longer range, especially if he had a sword.

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<center>Nothing but the Rain</center>

Nienna pulled the cloak tighter around her, hiding the gleaming chainmail, and the murderous weapons at her waist. Her auburn hair trailing behind her, and her piercing brown eyes warning starngers to stay away.
She pushed past yet another begger, his bony hands searching for food to feed his family with. Nienna frowned, she hated the cities, she much preferred to be free in the forrest, alone to do whatever she pleased.
"This had better be worth it"she murmered, striding up to the house she had been directed to. She knocked once, and waited.

*Sorry i hav'nt been able to write much, am a bit busy at the moment *

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<center>


~Thank you to Estë Undómë for the Beeeautiful Banners & Avvie <3 ~

It was hardly a day that differed from any other in his life, the city had awakened to it`s bustling life and you could not get a peace of mind anywhere when all the sounds came forcing their way into your ears. A relatively young man with long flaming red hair wandered across the alleys, but wandering would have been the wrong word to describe what he was doing. He was searching for something with great care and he seemed prepared to the extent that around every corner he would have to face a dagger or club wielding thug.

Yet then again there were hardly any people on the streets that didn`t recognize him somehow, many nasty rumors were passed on during the day from one person to another and gossip was almost a form of trade or at least something to sweeten the deal. Fyreg Kalgaar had made his fame on the streets with hard work and there were none who could argue about that, all tough some took his for a second rate thug was only because they hadn`t heard of his specific achievements. Despite all the dark rumors about him, he for once seemed to be on `official business` as he preferred to call it. Normally the bounties he collected were declared by crime lords, merchants or anyone who afforded to declare a price on someone`s head whom they wanted dead or captured.

Yet for now it would be the army, the very same element he had fought and disobeyed in his past as a mere thug, that employed him. Funny enough he only took up the offer because it might gain him some new contacts within the army and of course the fat pay that was attached to the assignments. Fyreg slipped past yet another corner only to stop at the sight of the house he thought he was supposed to meet his contact at, it was remote and small, hardly something you expected from the army. It did very well seem like a possible trap, but who knew, he had fought himself out of various tough situations. There had not been many bars that he had entered and not won a fight in, but of course should the army to to kill him, there would be professional soldiers involved. Fyreg shrugged off the thoughts and approached the building, there were two others at the door already yet the other one at least didn`t seem to be with the military. Indeed, she didn`t seem to belong, but then again who was he to judge people? Fyreg walked behind the two and scratched his neck with a bothered face as they waited for a response as it seemed that either of the two had already knocked.

Quietly Fyreg placed his other hand on his waist, the cloak that had been wrapped around him, slightly opened and revealed a belt or to be more precise a flail. At first look one would have taken it for a belt, but in fact Fyreg had his flail chain wrapped around his waist as a belt all tough this didn`t affect as to how quickly he could being out the weapon.

"Seems awfully rude to make a working man wait"

He commented casually as he eyed the backs of the two others.

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Let him curse my name
On these blood stained pages of misery
Let him call me a tyrant so cruel
Let him curse my name, but remember the truth!

OOC: Hmmmmm...I might be intrested in joining this, if that's all right with you, Aerandir. But I'll have to get the bio up later because I have to go to work right now.

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Four Gods wait on the windowsill,
Where once eight Gods did war and will,
And if the Gods themselves may die,
What does that say for you and I?

Now, three Gods wait on the windowsill
Where one God's blood was lately spilled
While black tongues lap at the spreading pool
And build the strength they need to rule.

"Raign!"

The sound of Lucan's boots on the stairs indicated he was displeased about something. Raign, fairly sure she knew what, calmly sprinkled sand over her writing and blew gently to dry the ink.

The moment he appeared she looked up. "Eryn told you where I'm going."

"Aye, she told me! And - "

"And I'm going alone." Raign's level tone hung in the air between them for a moment. She stood, meeting his eyes. He was taller by a good couple of handspans, but their gazes could match in cold determination. Family resemblance was fleeting beyond that similarity. Both had dark hair, but where Raign's eyes were hazel Lucan's were steely grey, and he had always taken more after their father than she had. The King had been ruggedly handsome, which followed in Lucan, but Raign was under no illusions that she was a great beauty.

"No, you're not."

"Yes, Lucan, I am." This time her voice brooked absolutely no argument.

"Even you can't pretend you're immune to an arrow from a rooftop, Raign, or three men in an alley, or a dart tipped with - "

"And yet you seem determined to pretend that I would be the object of any of those." Generally Lucan did not argue when Raign's voice took on this underlay of steel, but he still stood there, eyes flashing as she spoke. "Stop living in the past, Lucan. I have no money, no power, no fame. Aye, I had them. So did you. Show me the assassin who's interested in Lady Raignheidra Terhin, leader of thirty-three mercenaries and an idiot who persists in thinking he's a prince."

She could tell he meant to contest their reputation - how he hated the word mercenary - but it didn't stop her from sweeping out, rapier belted on her hip and forest green cloak hiding it from view.

Raign did not smile upon descending the gangplank, or walking down the dock, or indeed when she joined the throngs that frequented Thoronus's streets. What was there to smile about? Everything she'd told Lucan was true. No exaggeration, no emphasis. The cold, hard truth of it. Perhaps that was why she led, and he followed. She didn't deny the hard knot of anxiety coupled with anger in her stomach. The label of mercenary rankled within her no less than it did within him, but at least she had the common sense to accept the future and stop living in the past.

There was no point, as she'd told him, in maintaining a particular level of secrecy, so Raign let her hood fall back as she moved through the crowds. Her dark crown of braids - the only crown she ever wore, now - was no more elaborate than the next woman's, and her features had never been heartstoppingly beautiful. Granted, she would prefer to leave as little impression as possible on anyone who might see her, so when Raign reached the designated meeting place, she lounged outside the deserted doorway until the street cleared, before vanishing inside.

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"Move your feet more." Garvan demonstrated to his pupil. "Your whole body has to be flexible, ready to move. C'mon, let's give it another try."

Knocking sounds filled the air as Garvan and his student blocked, parried, and stabbed with wooden swords. A rather shabbily dressed stranger stood back from the practice arena, hardly visible in the shadows of trees.

It was only after Garvan had finished the lesson and the student had left that the man detached himself from the shade. "Message for you, sir." He held out a folded paper to Garvan, who took it with a nod of thanks. He read it as he walked to his house.

"Siyem, take a look at this."

His wife read the note, curiosity on her face. "'Your presence is requested'? Sound formal."

Garvan nodded absently. "I don't know who'd be wantin' to talk with me." He shrugged. "Guess I'll be findin' out."

Siyem's face creased with concern. "What if it's a trap? Robbers or murderers wanting you?"

Garvan smiled. "Siyem, I'm a weapons trainer- not a spy or general. Or a rich merchant for that matter. I'll be fine."
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Half an hour later he stood in front of an ordinary- looking building, hesitating. <i>You can't leave now.</i> he told himself. Despite the uneasy feeling in his stomach, he knocked quickly at the door. It swung open.

"Letter?" A man's rough voice asked. Garvan handed it to him, and walked into the room. As his eyes adjusted to the light, he could see several people already there.