| Welcome to our home, a world in which anything can happen. From sprawling deserts and vast forests to massive volcanoes and luscious hot springs, Soare and the Scattered Isles are beautiful places just waiting to be explored. For the brave and the bold or the cautious and the wary, creatures of all kinds roam the earth, looking for adventure or for a place to call their own. Species of all kinds - the well-known and the unknown - thrive here, though not always in harmony. Elenlond is an original medieval fantasy RPG with a world that's as broad as it is unique. Calling on characters of all kinds, the sky's the limit in a world where boundaries are blurred and the imagination runs rampant. Restrictions are limited and members are encouraged to embrace their creativity, to see where they can go and what they can do. It's no longer just text on a page - it becomes real. Enter Our World |
| Beggar Prince..ss | |
|---|---|
| Topic Started: Aug 7 2017, 04:09 PM (149 Views) | |
| Sabellius | Aug 7 2017, 04:09 PM Post #1 |
![]()
Fléctere si néqueo súperos, Acheronta movebo.
![]()
|
[Sabe is currently female. I'd considered flipping between his and her pronouns the whole way through for fun but I figured that would be too confusing. Anyway...it's a highway robbery. Whachu gon' do punk? Huh?!] Except for the fact that his pants were too big and the belt was a couple notches too loose, everything seemed to be just swell. The pants didn't of course, actually belong to him at all, and were a touch rough for her liking but frankly when you're walking around with pants that have no knees, boots that have no soles and a shirt that is basically one big hole held together with a few threads, you learn to make do. Which is to say, you steal from someone better off and hope that whatever you get fits. So the clothes were about four sizes too big, the shirt was more like a dress and the boots hadn't fit at all. He'd tucked the shirt into the pants in an effort to pad out the belt, but, well...aside from the fact he couldn't actually run anywhere without holding his hips, which made him look like some kind of dancer-in-training from the Dulassin mountains, everything was mostly cool. Well, alright, except for the fact that he was starving and had no shoes. And that the messenger he'd pulled over had been a big man, and even when he was a man, which was roughly the same size as he was now, he'd still been huge compared to him. Problem was, he couldn't concentrate enough to actually just summon something more his style, his head was buzzing since he woke up, burning eyes watering in the fierce noonday sunlight, and his skin was alive with the itch of a thousand bug bites. Small wonder then, that the wagon chain didn't take her seriously when the woman stepped out of the brush directly into their path. Maybe the people didn't, but their mule did, bucking and dragging the haywain off the road once it caught a wiff. "Hold it right there!" "Oy, what's the meanin' o' this? Get off th' bloody road y'damned fool!" Sabellius surveyed the four wagons trundling to a halt, the bulky guards,faces as world weary as he felt and raised his hand, cocked it like a gun and pointed at the foremost merchantman. He was met with a bewildered stare. "This here is a good ole fashioned shakedown!" "Are you bloody jokin- "Put all your valuables in the bag, and nobody gets hurt!" "What bag?" "You'll have to supply that too. And a good change of clothes that actually fit. And a weapon would be nice. And several days worth of food. And directions to the nearest town." There was a stony silence, then gradual laughter. Of course. A bedraggled woman steps into the road, with little more than a fierce grin and everyone thinks they've just met a madman. He waited while they laughed, took in his feminine form once more, and stopped, considering. Well if it was a drow, it could have been leftover from the fae, and that was dangerous. Lots of mages among their kind, or so it was told. Still, even she could fire off a couple of spells, they had more than a half dozen guards to the train, as well as those they'd picked up who just wanted to travel in safety. Might be they could fight too. At least the guards would earn their keep. "Bugger off, beggar, you're holdin' up th' road." Sabe sighed, rolling his shoulders. "Look, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way. I don't really care. I need what you've got." "Then trade for it." "I am. Your life is a fair price, right?" "That's enough, it ain't funny, now get outta th-" He made as if to shoot his...finger gun, and the merchant flinched. "Pow." "Right you little shit, I've had enough." It was as he reached for his riding crop that he suddenly keeled over, dropping heavy as a stone from the saddle and landed on his face in the road. The guards stopped, staring at the man as he gripping the sides of his head, groaning and grinding his teeth. One of the guards frowned, then drew his sword and stepped forward. Within the sliver of the moment, he was on his knees gasping, sword forgotten as he gripped at his skull, fearful that it might crack from the pressure building within. He began pacing carefully forward til he was level with the front of the first wagon, then the fallen merchant, the sound of cursing and braying as the mule struggled in the ditch with its drover breaking the silence. "Oh, I think I'll be needing a horse too. And feed for it. Now, where shall we start? How 'bout you, stranger? Hand over your valuables, if you please." Sabellius turned towards them with an open smiling face, when one of the men clad in the guardsman's uniform rushed him, cudgel swinging up high. He ducked in low, arm flickering up to catch the man's wrist, and squeezed. There was an audible creak of bone, then a pop, a screech, and the guard staggered back clutching his broken wrist. Just as well, because the cambion's pants chose that moment to slide down his legs and leave him bare-arsed in the middle of the road with only a shirt to cover his shame. He twitched his tail, then yanked them back up and busied himself with the belt again, stuffing the ill-fitting shirt inside. "The..the buzzing...make it stop!" "As soon as you all accommodate my simple needs, I'll be on my way. Let's make this fast, I don't have all day!" Sabe canted his head, burning gaze sliding to the nearest of the strangers. "Nice cloak. Fork it over." abilities
Edited by Sabellius, Aug 7 2017, 04:22 PM.
|
| (OFFLINE) PROFILE | QUOTE GO TO TOP |
| Scáthach | Aug 8 2017, 11:26 AM Post #2 |
![]() ![]()
|
The Erth'Netora, especially at night, was not the safest place to be post-insurrection. Hungry wolves and other unnamable creatures still called the place their home. As the creatures called out to each other across the forest, the travelers began to feel a deeper sense of dread. "Can we not stop here, Leareh?" A voice came from beside them. "There are safer, more sheltered areas to rest further ahead. We are too vulnerable here." The other responded. "We have already traveled so far without rest...we are in no condition to continue." Scathach looked at the weary duo. "I told her not to come. I told her to think of the child, our child." The war had not gone without leaving its mark on every man woman and child that lived through it. These travelers were no exception, and it was clear by the way that their dirty, tattered clothes hung off of their skinny limbs. Other people on the wagon were better off, with slightly less dirt and tatters, but their eyes were all the same. Haunted. A dark reflection of what they all had seen and somehow survived. Scathach was no exception. Their eyes, large and liquid, and as white as death, remained closed as if sound asleep. Their hair was black as the darkest night--thick and curly, brushing their collar, but mostly hidden under a black shawl. Their body had become much stronger during the war but with the lack of resources on their side, hadn't gained much bulk, despite all of the fightings. They had played their part in the war, that was to be sure, having joined in as one of Aniketos' shadows. Killing for the Councillor of Soto had been easy, as she had done it all her life, sometimes for no reason at all. However, this time, they were fighting for a cause. Everyone had their reasons for fighting. But Scathach had no reason to join another man's war. As her Master Phaedrus had joined and chose to play his part, they chose to assist him as his apprentice. It had been something else to do, a distraction from their true purpose, which was becoming more and more difficult to face. Especially now that the war was over....But Morrim was calling, once more. "Hold it right there!" "Oy, what's the meanin' o' this? Get off th' bloody road y'damned fool!" Sabellius surveyed the four wagons trundling to a halt, the bulky guards,faces as world weary as he felt and raised his hand, cocked it like a gun and pointed at the foremost merchantman. He was met with a bewildered stare. "This here is a good ole fashioned shakedown!" "Are you bloody jokin- "Put all your valuables in the bag, and nobody gets hurt!" "What bag?" "You'll have to supply that too. And a good change of clothes that actually fit. And a weapon would be nice. And several days worth of food. And directions to the nearest town." Scathach pressed their tinted spectacles to her nose and did not laugh. They stood up from the wagon and leaned off the side with her arm out to watch the commotion, even as the others continued laughing. They observed the beggarly stranger from afar. They knew that looks could be deceiving. In their case, they appeared to be nothing more than a starved disciple of Vespasian, shawl and all. It was a bit strange how the drow woman asked for so much from people who had very little. "Bugger off, beggar, you're holdin' up th' road." "Look, we can do this the easy way, or the hard way. I don't really care. I need what you've got." "Then trade for it." "I am. Your life is a fair price, right?" "That's enough, it ain't funny, now get outta th-" "Pow." "Right you little shit, I've had enough." Pain exploded through her skull, and they clutched tightly onto the railing to not collapse into the wagon like the other travelers, creating a pile of squirming bodies. Eyes squeezed tight, they winced and pressed a hand to their temple against the agony, but of course, nothing happened. It persisted. Scathach glared at the stranger. As if traveling long distances wasn't hard enough without constant attacks from persistent rebels and monsters of every kind. "Oh, I think I'll be needing a horse too. And feed for it. Now, where shall we start? How 'bout you, stranger? Hand over your valuables, if you please." "The..the buzzing...make it stop!" "As soon as you all accommodate my simple needs, I'll be on my way. Let's make this fast, I don't have all day!" Sabe canted his head, burning gaze sliding to the nearest of the strangers. "Nice cloak. Fork it over." Exhausted, hungry, and sleep deprived, Scathach immediately lost their patience. "Guid day asswipe." Scathach lowered their head just enough so the woman could see the color of her eyes. They glared, with bags under their eyes, and crossed their arms. They did not hand over their cloak. Their nice black cloak, which had no wear or tear, given to them by their good Master, the Necromancer. "Cut 'at jobby it, woods ye? Some ay us ur tryin' tae sleep!" Edited by Scáthach, Aug 8 2017, 11:27 AM.
|
| (OFFLINE) PROFILE | QUOTE GO TO TOP |
| 1 user reading this topic (1 Guest and 0 Anonymous) | |
| « Previous Topic · Morrim · Next Topic » |


















