Estunas Aetas

[forced meme (harambe)]

Oct 22, 2016 14:45:20 GMT -4 The Jiggler said:

Arn

You jump out of the way from the man's thrusting sword and slam his hand with the flat surface of your sword. Disarmed, he staggers again. 

Arn was on him immediately, slapping the shield aside and hitting him in the head with the butt of his sword, wishing not to kill the man.

[The Jiggler]

"'Mildly' Utopian" as in the tribe would be more like a utopia than a normal society.
Credor, which is the name of the Utopian tribe he grew up in, is where Normandy would be nowadays, so it would be south of Aiworera (if I understood it correctly Aiworera would be on the British Isles in southern England).

An explanation for how he had access to knowledge could be because the elders of the tribe had employed/trained mages to try and mislead travelers or scouts away from Credor, so as to not have the tribe be discovered and their heathenish way of life discovered. Few could have apprenticed with one of these mages and if he were to return to Credor he would have been employed as one of them. I suppose if this was the case he would have lied about the length of time he left, due to that study of magic assumedly being tedious to the point where they wouldn't train someone who would just run away during the coming of age adventure.

I apologize. I mistook the 'Utopia' as the name of the tribe and then Credor was like an archipelago or another continent entirely. This means Credor is fine as a tribe name and I'll allow it to be in Normandy.

About the Few's magical capabilities, what I predicted was that the elders of the tribe felt an essence of supernatural during Few's childhood and sent a group with the riches of the village as well as goods to be traded with the Treidaene Sanctum, a college of magicians which would be where Winchester, Hampshire was in exchange for magical tomes. But the story you used is okay too.

Arn 

You slam the butt of your sword into the man's head. A bump pops up and just a little bit of blood begins to trickle from the spot you hit him towards the left side of his forehead. 

[llama]

Alright. i guess i'll just go with the one i used.
anything else?

[The Jiggler]

Nah dude you're good.

Few

You sleep in the cot in the thick forests of Credor. Summoning wisps and imagery to soothe your aching eyes. 

[llama]

Snoozing soundly, I feel in this moment of rest a true sense of peace in this dreadful world where I have to do dreadful things just to keep interest.

[forced meme (harambe)]

Oct 23, 2016 10:58:48 GMT -4 The Jiggler said:

"'Mildly' Utopian" as in the tribe would be more like a utopia than a normal society.
Credor, which is the name of the Utopian tribe he grew up in, is where Normandy would be nowadays, so it would be south of Aiworera (if I understood it correctly Aiworera would be on the British Isles in southern England).

An explanation for how he had access to knowledge could be because the elders of the tribe had employed/trained mages to try and mislead travelers or scouts away from Credor, so as to not have the tribe be discovered and their heathenish way of life discovered. Few could have apprenticed with one of these mages and if he were to return to Credor he would have been employed as one of them. I suppose if this was the case he would have lied about the length of time he left, due to that study of magic assumedly being tedious to the point where they wouldn't train someone who would just run away during the coming of age adventure.

I apologize. I mistook the 'Utopia' as the name of the tribe and then Credor was like an archipelago or another continent entirely. This means Credor is fine as a tribe name and I'll allow it to be in Normandy.

About the Few's magical capabilities, what I predicted was that the elders of the tribe felt an essence of supernatural during Few's childhood and sent a group with the riches of the village as well as goods to be traded with the Treidaene Sanctum, a college of magicians which would be where Winchester, Hampshire was in exchange for magical tomes. But the story you used is okay too.

Arn 

You slam the butt of your sword into the man's head. A bump pops up and just a little bit of blood begins to trickle from the spot you hit him towards the left side of his forehead. 

Wasting no time, Arn slammed into the man, attempting to knock him down. If he succeeded, he would put the tip of his shortsword just against the man's neck, so that it would not rend the throat but it would break the skin. "Yield."

[The Jiggler]

Arn

Unfortunately, this bizarre display of yours is unnoticed, as you knocked out the man with your hefty blow to his forehead. 

Few

As you lounge in your bed, Prokopios walks into your hut. He sits down on a chair and unravels a scroll,

"To Few, Chief Eetxahu demands yond thee taketh the pelt to the cl'ric in Totikamp, f'r that gent needeth to maketh t into leath'r f'r his new tome yond shall beest deliv'r'd to our tribe. Thee has't ten days to completeth this task, and prithee tryeth not to receiveth in ado while thou art out."

With this, Prokopios lays down the pelt of a warthog at the foot of your bed and walks to the doorframe, but stops and turns around to give you one last word before he leaves, "Your provisions and some cedoecs will be left in your knapsack at the gate, as well as a walking stick and a blade to keep you safe during your travels from highwaymen and thugs," with this, he leaves.

[llama]

I groan as Prokopios makes his declaration as I come back to this world. No peace. Fuck.
Following his leave from the room, I rub the sleep from my eyes and glare in the direction of the end of the bed, where the pelt would be. Why does some piece of dead animal have the power to make me get out bed? I might have to take up the issue with Eetxahu, telling him how it could be leeching away from his power. I'm sure he'd take proper action with knowledge of this possible usurper.
I throw the covers to the side and rise from the bed, revealing my nakedness. Stretching and taking my sweet time, I go to my dresser and fish through its contents, finding an appropriate outfit for myself. Still rather tired, I splash my face with a bowl of water on top of the dresser for just this occasion, shaking my head in consternation of the self-induced misery of putting water on my face, while I gather up the pelt and whatever other necessities from my room before donning both my boots and vest and head out the door (perhaps my two daggers but there is many a time when I misplace them and lose them for days so I wouldn't be surprised if I can't find them).

[forced meme (harambe)]

Oct 24, 2016 20:30:07 GMT -4 The Jiggler said:

Arn

Unfortunately, this bizarre display of yours is unnoticed, as you knocked out the man with your hefty blow to his forehead. 

Few

As you lounge in your bed, Prokopios walks into your hut. He sits down on a chair and unravels a scroll,

"To Few, Chief Eetxahu demands yond thee taketh the pelt to the cl'ric in Totikamp, f'r that gent needeth to maketh t into leath'r f'r his new tome yond shall beest deliv'r'd to our tribe. Thee has't ten days to completeth this task, and prithee tryeth not to receiveth in ado while thou art out."

With this, Prokopios lays down the pelt of a warthog at the foot of your bed and walks to the doorframe, but stops and turns around to give you one last word before he leaves, "Your provisions and some cedoecs will be left in your knapsack at the gate, as well as a walking stick and a blade to keep you safe during your travels from highwaymen and thugs," with this, he leaves.

Arn sighed, feeling silly for demanding surrender from someone who wasn't even conscious. He lifted the man up and hefted him over his shoulder to bring him somewhere the man could get help, wherever that was.

[The Jiggler]

Few

You begin to trek out towards your destination.

Arn

The nearby chapel is probably the best bet for the old man.

[llama]

I head to the gate where my supplies wait for me.

[forced meme (harambe)]

Arn decided to take him to the chapel, then.

[The Jiggler]

Sorry for the delayed response, after my dispute with the admins I became a bit lethargic in the means to post aside from shitposting. Here're some proper responses. 

Few
When you arrive at the gate, you're met by Phaendar, he's a small child but hands you a knapsack with vittles in it. Inside, you also find a leather bag with 42 silver cedoecs, and a golden crown (coin) and a steel dagger with a vial of oleander sap to add some salt to the wounds if you come in contact with any adversaries. Phaendar also hands you an oak walking stick with some Credor charms to give you luck on your travels. 

Arn
You carry the man over your shoulder to the chapel's doors. After knocking on the door for a brief moment, you walk away into a nearby alley and observe the scene from afar. A nun opens the door and places her hand over her mouth when she sees the man slumped over. After observing him for a moment, she drags him inside.

[llama]

(it's all good bruh )

I take up my supplies, putting the dagger in a hidden sheath within the right side my vest. I don the knapsack upon my back, pulling the straps outward and then letting go to where they fall back onto my shoulders. I take the walking stick into my right hand. Offering both a thanks and some jest to Phaendar about how he's going to have to step up his charm for the village's women while I'm gone. With a grin, I begin my journey.

[forced meme (harambe)]

Arn watched with a slight smile. One deed at a time. With this, he walked back toward the cathedral and made a slightly louder rap on the door. He wished to pray.

[The Jiggler]

Few
As you step out the front gate, you walk along the dirt road that your ancestors have crafted over the decades by trodding along the road to reach their destination. Birds are singing high in the canopies and squirrels are chasing each other, leaping from branch to branch. On the ground you see mice scurrying across the road to reach their burrow and snakes slowly slithering along the road. Your chieftain was gracious when he gave you ten days to complete this quest because it will only take two days to reach Totikamp and two days to come back, which gives you six days worth of leisure. You continue to trek along the path when you hear a growling noise from behind you.

Arn
You walk to the impressive cathedral and knock on the door. Usually, people don't pray at this hour but every hour is a good time to pray. A bishop opens the door and welcomes you inside. Inside of the cathedral, it smells of roses and poppies with a purple velvet carpet leading up to a podium in front of a wall with a mosaic of Jesus Christ on the Holy Cross. A few others sit in the assorted rows of pews, heads bowed down in prayer. 

[forced meme (harambe)]

(( I'm curious- in this roleplay, are all mythologies true or is there only one true faith in canon? ))


"Good evening, Most Reverend," Arn whispered to the Bishop as he stepped through the cathedral doors. He approached the front, hesitated, stopped, turned on a heel and took his seat in the back of the chamber, in the final row, and crossed himself before saying the Lord's Prayer. With this, he sat for perhaps an hour, if it was allowed, in prayer.

[The Jiggler]

Nov 1, 2016 23:41:35 GMT -4 forced meme (harambe) said:

(( I'm curious- in this roleplay, are all mythologies true or is there only one true faith in canon? ))


"Good evening, Most Reverend," Arn whispered to the Bishop as he stepped through the cathedral doors. He approached the front, hesitated, stopped, turned on a heel and took his seat in the back of the chamber, in the final row, and crossed himself before saying the Lord's Prayer. With this, he sat for perhaps an hour, if it was allowed, in prayer.

(There are many real religions, as well as many fictional ones. I thought it'd be interesting to see how they would interact based off of a character's belief.)

Arn
You feel as if your divine communion with God has lifted you of many sins this day. You exasperate a sigh of relief at the end of your prayer. You tire from your intense thinking and your eyelids are slowly drifting closer together. Your piety will be rewarded soon you feel, but for now you feel that sleep is in your best interest. 

[llama]

I grin at the movements of nature all around me, feeling as though I got it lucky to be born in such a place. One of lulling forests, docile animals, and beautiful women. I might have to spend time with the third due to my extra time.. yes, the ol' chieftain sure does look after his community members. I snicker at my own humor, knowing that others would appreciate if they were around.. might as well laugh for them, huh?
My train of thought is interrupted by the noise behind me. Gripping my staff, I slowly turn to see what it is, my left fist clenched and ready to do a bout of magic or a draw of my dagger.

(sorry if they're any grammatical errors/bad writing in here; typing this on my phone while going through my school's hallways. )

[forced meme (harambe)]

As this was the case, Arn stood. There was no use standing here, taking up space in the stands and disturbing others with his prayer. He sidled out and into the aisle before exiting the grand cathedral, crossing himself slowly as he did and thanking God for his survival. Off to bed, now.

[The Jiggler]

Sorry for not posting. I went to a leadership camp this weekend and I just got back late last night. I'll be posting regularly again.

Few
As you turn around you spot the four-legged beast. It's an albino mountain lion. It's baring its' teeth towards you and is positioning itself to ready a pounce. The mountain lion appears to be wounded, with blood trickling down its' right foreleg. That's probably why it's being so aggressive. The mountain lion begins to move towards you quickly, still baring its' teeth and in the position to pounce. 

Arn
You walk back to your apartment without any problems. You change into your sleepwear, keeping your dagger in your hand, strategically placed under your pillow. When you wake up and get around, you notice a letter with a wax seal was slipped under your door during the night. You pick up the letter and break the seal, and begin to read the letter, 

Dear Arn, 
I saw you praying last night at the cathedral. Meet me behind the cathedral at night. If I'm not the only one, ask people "Are your silk wares here for sale?". You'll know it's me when I respond with "Yes, come with me to the back." I have a plan for you to make a quick wrap of Ascalon banknotes."

[forced meme (harambe)]

Arn looked at the letter with confusion for a moment, stupidly wondering at what to do. Obviously I have to go, he thought as his mind became more coherent and less maddened by his passage into consciousness. He set the letter on his desk, strapped his equipment on, and set out once again to find something to eat, thinking back now and again to the letter. Who could the sender be? He knew next to no one in this city, so why did the sender know his name?

[llama]

(can you please PM me all the illusion magic Few has or to what limit he can do it)

[The Jiggler]

This is dead. No one new is gonna join. :/

[llama]

Nov 12, 2016 18:58:24 GMT -4 The Jiggler said:

This is dead. No one new is gonna join. :/

(y/n for spells

and why not just continue for the people in it??)