Soo...are we going to do it? I was so excited about being an evil antagonist...

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going on a journey through my old claims

And I forget again!

All I need is to get my bio up, then we can start. Tonight or tomorrow, I swear!

EDIT: Ok, here's my bio..finally.

Name: Eryn
Gender: Female
Age: 247
Race: Elf
Appearance: Slender build, of average height. Has dark brown hair to the middle of her back, fair skin and green eyes. Pretty much similar to: http://vhea.deviantart.com/art/Indian-e ... r-20644426
Attire: Tan breeches, white tunic, worn underneath a dark knee-length coat. Wears deer-skin boots that reach to her calves, and oftentimes wears a dark hooded cloak.
Personality: Notably introverted. Often seen as anti-social, even haughty. Has a tendency to avoid trouble at all costs, stemming from a painful past.
Weapons: Bow and arrows, curved hunting knife. Also carries several hidden daggers.
Abilities: Foresight(on occasion), Wind walking(elven term for control of the air element). Has limited healing abilities, but cannot use them on herself.

Starting post should be edited in shortly. I may be contacting all of you involved to see if you still want to proceed.

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(Excuse the double post, but it's easier to start this way.)

Drip, drop. Drip, drop. Drip, drip, drip. The sound of a leaky roof. In a common room. Near a roaring fire. Not the best conditions to brood in. But, when low on funds, one couldn't be too picky. Food, fire, and -relative- shelter at least meant one could have a safe night out of the wilds. Right? One could only hope. Safety was certainly left in question. It was quite the motley crowd gathered in the tavern/inn so aptly named River's End. How many of these drunkards had metaphorically reached the end of the river? River's End - also the name of the city in which the tavern/inn River's End was located - was the end of the line, in many senses. Run down, derelict, overrun by crime and ruled by martial law. So..what person in their right mind would choose to take board in a tavern named after a city, a city full of cutpurses, pickpockets, and backstabbers?

That is a very good question. One such unlucky soul - hood drawn up carefully to conceal fair features - had to ask herself this as she took up residence at the semi-grimy bar of River's End. One glance at the wood and she quickly changed her mind, standing up as quickly as one could while still retaining dignity - turning down an offer of ale..really, who would drink the ale in this place was beyond reasoning - and retreating fireside..where at least the stone hearth was swept clean. The rain didn't come through the roof, here, either. Another plus. On top of the warmth. Warmth on a cold, rainy night was good.

Now..came the fun. Crowd-watching. Would any disturb her? Hopefully not. Was there a reason she was crowd-watching? Yes. The reason? A moment, weeks before, of foresight. Hold..foresight? Yes. The one in question by the fire - for now, alone - was, in fact, Enlightened. Yet another reason to avoid River's End. Locals were hostile towards Enlightened. Hostile, as in, would sooner run them through than look at them. Lovely thoughts that prompted.

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The dark sky poured buckets on him, but Mikol reveled in the rain. Moody weather to match a moody person...he smirked. Walking briskly through the "streets" of River's End, his blue eyes staring daggers into the darkness, Mikol's tall build and confident carriage was enough to deter any potential thieves. Not that they would've gotten much money --destruction was a rather poor business to be in. Pulling the hood of his dark cloak closer around him, Mikol paused to consider the gloomy building before him. Light came from the grimy window, and some drunked laughter spilled out the door. Giving a twisted smile and a small shrug, Mikol stepped inside.

The tavernkeeper seemed more bored than worried about a potential customer. Waving a hand, he indicated that any place was open to sit. Mikol silently took a mug from the counter and selected a dark corner rather near the fireplace. He settled down on the bench and rested his boots on a chair further in front of him. As he peered into his mug, he saw a woman on the other side of the fire watching him.

The woman didn't seem to fit with the crowd of cutthroats. Mikol gave her sidelong glances, trying to discern her purpose.

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going on a journey through my old claims

How Eledhe hated rain.

Irritably, she jerked up her hood to protect somewhat against the unfriendly elements. The action likened her to every other traveler of the streets at this time of night, but had the skies not been forcibly expressing their wrath - or so it seemed they were - she wouldn't have bothered. Nobody in Rivers' End was unduly concerned with anyone other than themselves. It was a trait Eledhe embodied very well.

Pausing under the nearest overhang, she squinted into the grey downpour. An inn for one night, and then away. To...well, wherever happened to be the most helpful to her cause. Or rather, her employer's cause. Another reason to find an inn. They were veritable mines of information if one knew where to look.

This, however, would be of more import if she could see one.

Eledhe muttered a curse under her breath and strode out into the rain again. A particularly vindictive gust of wind swept off her hood, and instantly there was a cold, wet trickle down the back of her tunic. "Seven levels of the bloody underworld, where's a flaming inn when you need one?" she growled, jerking it back up.

Finally. She made haste toward the building, which was marked by its dangling sign with a near-incomprehensible motif. The inn was no more cheerful than the rest of the city, but Eledhe'd seen worse. She entered the common room in a gust of wind and splattering of rain. The innkeeper, a greying man who, from his weather-beaten exterior, looked as though he'd dealt with none too few a number of shady patrons in a somewhat violent manner, glanced up from his book. "One bed," said Eledhe offhandedly, fishing the coins from her belt pouch to toss onto the desk. Before he'd finished noting it down, she was gone, cloak left on the nearest hook to dry. The thought of ale had never seemed quite so attractive.

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One more night. Cu'scath would stay in River's End tonight, and leave first thing in the morning. He had already been here for three days, and that was too long for his liking. If not for the rain and the cuthroats that hid in it, he would have been gone today.

The door to the tavern banged open, a gust of cold wind ushering in a cloaked woman. Cu'scath watched curiously as she paid for a room and hung up her cloak to dry. She didn't seem like the normal type to frequent a shady inn like <i>River's End</i>. He half-shrugged and turned back to his meal. It was none of his concern who came into a tavern.

Drunken singing? Check. Rain still pounding vindictively against the roof? Check. Still warm fire? Check. Intrusion on her thoughts? Double check. Shifting almost irritably in her seat - a rather sturdy wooden chair, able to hold up even the most..sturdy of guests without nary a wobble or creak - Eryn tugged the hood of her cloak farther up to hide her face better, casting one glance at the man that had intruded on her sense of personal space quite spectacularly without even actually intruding on it. Remarkable.

This one had a dark air about him, that was clear even to those that were too thick or too drunk to notice aught else. It was all the more clear to the elf sitting in uncomfortable silence in a chair that made her small stature and size seem all the more..miniscule. Well. If she dwelled on him all night, she would let other things slip through the proverbial cracks. Turning in her seat, she folded her arms as if in supreme unconcern, just in time to hear the rush of wind that signaled someone elses' entrance into the tavern. But who..she couldn't see. Ah, well. One can't catch sight of everything.

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Just became a college freshman; be on sparingly

Mikol glanced up as the woman entered the inn, flinching inadvertently from the cool air that blew into his face. The warmth of the fire didn't help that much. Following shortly after the newcomer, a black cat wormed through the door and stood for a moment. Mikol narrowed his eyes. Something was off about that. Any normal animal would be hanging around the kitchens or stables, where food was most likely to be forthcoming. Shelving his thoughts, he turned to the elf near him.

"Could ye tell me what lies up the road northways?" he asked her in the commonly spoken language of River's End. He had a rather decided idea of what exactly was transpiring there, but he wondered if news had traveled this far yet.

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going on a journey through my old claims

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Just became a college freshman; be on sparingly

"Could ye tell me what lies up the road northways?" What sort of question right out of the blue-

Turning to regard the one that had spoken - again, not for the first time, naturally - Eryn had to think quickly. She knew that River's End was under the 'jurisdiction' - in the loosest terms - of the human kingdom of Syrsevine, and the capital, Denar, lay to the north..but so did several smaller villages and settlements. Was this some sort of trick, a bid for information? Well, whatever it was..can't leave a question unanswered.

"The capital city of Denar." Voice smooth and only slightly accented, she spoke in a manner that not many residing under that roof could. If there was a touch of wariness, one could hardly fault her for that. Before she could say anything further, though, a cat nimbly leapt up onto a nearby table. What was wrong about that? Plenty. What animal would behave such in a noisy tavern? Then perhaps this was no ordinary animal..

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Hm... Alright. Well, with the permission of Raven, I've joined this RPG. Now! 'Ere's me bio:

Name: Quenlan (Quen for short)

Age: 296

Gender: Male

Phys. Appearence: Tall and lean, youthful. Short, spikey aburn hair that has a goldish sheen to it, a softly curved face, and, like almost every member of his family, dark green eyes. Normally, he wears worn scout clothing. Dark greens and browns, as well as a good amount of leather, make up his attire.

Race: Human/Elf

Weapon[s]: Two thin, hooked swords that hang at either side of his waist, without sheaths. They can be used for practially any use - a hacking saw, a slashing sword, even a fishing tool, but, sadly, cannot be used to stab something. He also carries a small dagger in his belt, but rarely uses it. (Hehe, anyone just happen to reconize the swords?)

Enlightened?: Yes

Personality: The smallest bit vain, he is an observant perfectionist with a wit the size of a mountain. At times, he can be a bit of a flirt, but gernerally is not.

History/Notes: Both of his mortal human parents had a bit of elven blood in them, and he was said to have 'hit the genetical jackpot', because not only was he born an elightened, he was born an elf, from his pointed ears to his sharp eyes. Unfortunately, though, not all elven attributes could come to him. He is a bit hard of hearing, and could possibly shatter crystal with his horrible singing voice.

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You may (or may not) know me elsewhere as Elfpen

((Welcome SG!))

Hm. The other traveler seemed unlikely to have heard of the troubles. All the better then. Time to plant some seeds. Before Mikol had a chance to formulate a lie --not a lie, exactly, more of a half-truth -- that odd cat jumped up onto the table and started purring. Hesitantly, Mikol stretched out his hand to rub it on the head. The cat purred harder and arched its back. Perhaps it was a normal cat looking for companionship. Mikol turned back to the stranger.

"I heard tell that there was a stir there yestereve," he said in a lower voice. "They say some Enlightened rounded up a group of peasants and had them all killed." He leaned back in his chair and took a sip of ale. That ought to get some thinking going.

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going on a journey through my old claims

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Just became a college freshman; be on sparingly

Quentan sat causually in his chair in the corner, a dark hood pulled up around his face. He listened intently to what was going around him, but, all audible noises seemed to bled together in a mess of bass and treble.

Curse his hearing. Of all elvish traits to not inherit, of course, hearing was one of them. Normally, he would use his self-taught skill of lip reading to suffice, but most of the men in this particular inn had beards, making this difficult.

Quen sighed, and idly tapped his foot to the soft 'drip drop' rythm of the rain. His emerald eyes scanned the other around him, seaching for something to hold his interest.

He didn't want to be here. He hadn't wished to end up in a herd of druken, dirty men in some run-down, leaky tavern. But apparently, the gods had a cruel sense of humor, for here he sat, waiting for the cascade of cold water to ceace falling from the dark sky.

Slowly, with much bordem, he lazily lifted his eyes. His head perked up. Off by the fire near the oppisite wall, sat a woman, who was speaking with a stranger. Her face was toward him. Thank the heavens! Someone without a beard!

Contentedly, he sat back in his seat, reading her lips. Oh, bother. he thought. Women speak of such borish subjects... Giving directions. What, had this man lost his map? Quen refrained from snorting. Either that, or he simply wanted to socialize...

Quen's smile faded. His brow came together in a shadowed frown as he studied the woman closer. He spotted her gracefully pointed ears. What in the heavens above is an elf doing here? he wondered. Especially an elf maiden? Dispite his own pointed elf ears, he was still curious.

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You may (or may not) know me elsewhere as Elfpen

"Enlightened, you say?" Tone deceptively calm, Eryn leaned back idly in her seat, lightly tracing the curved vines that wound their way around the hilt of her hunting dagger. The only weapon visible, it was deceptively small..yet deadly, if used correctly. Any of several points of entry would cause paralysis. Several more of the same number? Death. Why was all of this running through the elf's head? Well..this topic was intruding on her own status. And if this man found out what she was..or if anyone else found out...

"I must say, that is..terrible." Tone still carefully modulated, she went on in a lower voice. Best to head this off before anything ugly developed. "What those envairem were thinking, I don't know." That alone was a self-insult..a common elven curse used for Enlightened. Usurpers, loosely translated. Odd to say for Eryn..but necessary to cover her own safety. Except for the fact that her expression gave away distaste at the term. She didn't realize this. Talk about a compromise..

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