Announcements: Cutting Costs (2024) » January 2024 Copyfraud Attack » Finding Universes to Join (and making yours more visible!) » Guide To Universes On RPG » Member Shoutout Thread » Starter Locations & Prompts for Newcomers » RPG Chat — the official app » Frequently Asked Questions » Suggestions & Requests: THE MASTER THREAD »

Latest Discussions: Adapa Adapa's for adapa » To the Rich Men North of Richmond » Shake Senora » Good Morning RPG! » Ramblings of a Madman: American History Unkempt » Site Revitalization » Map Making Resources » Lost Poetry » Wishes » Ring of Invisibility » Seeking Roleplayer for Rumple/Mr. Gold from Once Upon a Time » Some political parody for these trying times » What dinosaur are you? » So, I have an Etsy » Train Poetry I » Joker » D&D Alignment Chart: How To Get A Theorem Named After You » Dungeon23 : Creative Challenge » Returning User - Is it dead? » Twelve Days of Christmas »

Players Wanted: Serious Anime Crossover Roleplay (semi-literate) » Looking for a long term partner! » JoJo or Mha roleplay » Seeking long-term rp partners for MxM » [MxF] Ruining Beauty / Beauty x Bastard » Minecraft Rp Help Wanted » CALL FOR WITNESSES: The Public v Zosimos » Social Immortal: A Vampire Only Soiree [The Multiverse] » XENOMORPH EDM TOUR Feat. Synthe Gridd: Get Your Tickets! » Aishna: Tower of Desire » Looking for fellow RPGers/Characters » looking for a RP partner (ABO/BL) » Looking for a long term roleplay partner » Explore the World of Boruto with Our Roleplaying Group on FB » More Jedi, Sith, and Imperials needed! » Role-player's Wanted » OSR Armchair Warrior looking for Kin » Friday the 13th Fun, Anyone? » Writers Wanted! » Long term partner to play an older male wanted »

Tis a Good Thing, My Feet are Sore.

a topic in Fantasy Roleplay, a part of the RPG forum.

If you would like to make your own roleplay based in a fantasy realm (dragons, elves, magic), use this forum. You will be in charge of all things related to your roleplay, so you're on your own here.

Tis a Good Thing, My Feet are Sore.

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Doodlepad on Fri Dec 16, 2011 5:19 pm

Okay well we'll try this again. Hello everyone I'm a noob to RPG but I'd like to have a good Rp with my friends for the purpose of character development. You are however, welcome to join us, though understand that this is an open ended rp with no real plot. It is a character based story, so the plot builds on it's own.

Welcome to Ellinsdale my good folk. A rather large country I'd say, but let me tell you about it, so that you may understand where to you're adventures may take you.
To the West there is a large spanning mountain range, the Caverntroll mountains we call it. It stretches far to the North and far to the South and acts as a rigid and rocky barrier to the Western Sea. The inhabitants of these mountains consists of magical fey folk,Trolls, Druids and other unknown creatures. Most men avoid theses mountains but know that there are also Dwarves who burry deep into the mountain sides here, building great cities of stone, but that is farther in northern reaches of the mountains. Keep on heading North past the dwarf cities and you'll find the Northmen, large brutish men who sail the Western Sea and find glory in knocking your head off.
Of course, let me not forget, if you look to the East you will find vast rolling hills of grass with patches of dense forests, and scattered about them, are the little villages of peasant folk and their surrounding farms. But If you'd rather meet the kindly king Candwell, he lives in his fortress at the center of Einterdale, a large prospering city of the good folk who rule the hills of grass.
To the South there is a thick forest, Direwood the elves call it, where the large elven city Antelwol sits. The elves here enjoy songs, games and gloroius fun and make for the best artisians you may ever find in Ellinsdale.
Well yes that is Ellinsdale my friends and now you know what is where and where is what. Oh but beware, though it all may sound pleasant, as we all know, the world is never kind all the time. There are wicked men, elves, dwarves and all, and sometimes there is a demon or two who finds their way out of hell and into our world, and of course there are necromancers who study in secrecy in dark froboding places. So be warned my dear friends and may you always tread on comfy grass.

Rules:
This is a medieval themed story so you must have a meidieval themed character, makes sense yes?
You may have up to five characters, but you must not let it get confusing, and write clearly.
Please post up to a paragraph or more.
Be kind and respectful and no killing others without consent.
OOC discussion must be kept at a minimum and written in Purple.
If you wish to leave the rp, let us know, instead of leaving people stranded.
Adult themes (violence, sex, swearing) is permitted but lets not get too gross here.
Characters shall be posted in an OOC Topic titled "OOC TGTMFS " ooc-tgtmfs-players-wanted-t65964.html

Tip jar: the author of this post has received 0.00 INK in return for their work.

User avatar
Doodlepad
Member for 13 years
Promethean Conversation Starter Conversationalist

Re: Tis a Good Thing, My Feet are Sore.

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Doodlepad on Sat Dec 17, 2011 9:00 pm

There was the distinct winter chill in the air and already snow dusted the rolling fields. Brittle stalks of grass bent in the wind and Resed pulled his hood over his head. "We had better get going ole Rundy, those clouds are threatening us with snow this evening." He brushed the cheek of his grey speckled horse and looked to the sky again. The mare responded with a snort. But they had yet to wait for news from RukRuk Resed's beloved carion bird.
A slow moving cart came up the road. "Good Morn!" Resed greeted the cart driver, but he was met with no greeting in return. It was to be expected. Resed was an odd looking character for a peasant to meet on the road. Not only did he wear all black but his hair was white as if it had been bleached. But unlike the hair of an old man, Resed's hair was glossy and smooth and held back in a pony tail. His eyebrows were as black as his clothes and his eyes were like dark unending voids. He was young but his face was worn and wrinkles presented themselves on his forehead and at the corners of his eyes. The most menacing feature of Resed was his long and nimble body, leaving him to tower over most like a looming shadow. At his right he kept his sword and scabbard, both of course, black as ebony, and strangely decorated with images of human skulls.
Resed understood that he looked strange to these folk and didn't mind their suspicion towards him, as it was, they had reason for suspicion. He simply shrugged it off and kept watch over the skies. "You know Rundy, I'm glad we'll be seeing our dear friend again, don't you think? Gets rather lonely round here." He scratched her ear, then mounted the saddle.
Last edited by Doodlepad on Mon Dec 26, 2011 3:28 pm, edited 2 times in total.

Tip jar: the author of this post has received 0.00 INK in return for their work.

User avatar
Doodlepad
Member for 13 years
Promethean Conversation Starter Conversationalist

Re: Tis a Good Thing, My Feet are Sore.

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Chrome Shiny on Mon Dec 19, 2011 3:53 am

Shareth yawned loudly as he stretched. Years of working on the farm had made him an early riser, but that didn't mean he particularly enjoyed mornings, especially mornings where he woke up outside. Sure, every morning brought with it the chance of a new adventure, but this morning he had woken up rather cold. While well equipped for sleeping outdoors, he wasn't equipped for the brisk winter air or the light dusting of snow, something he intended to remedy as soon as possible.
Shareth sighed as he pulled out his money pouch for the fourteenth time this week. He already knew how much was in it, but that didn't stop him from wanting to check. Sure enough, what had once been an ample collection of currency was now rendered a meager shell of its former glory. Traveling was expensive, and Shareth was sure the merchants had been gouging their prices, but what could he do? He needed to keep himself well supplied and the things he'd bought were essential to his journey, and the merchants knew it. Supply and demand at all its glory. The sound of hoofbeats down the road cause him to swiftly stow the pouch away. While he had yet to run into any bandits, brandishing a coin pouch, meager as it was, was just asking for trouble. Upon nearing the source of the hoof beats, Shareth sees an odd man on a grey speckled mare. He waves his hand in greeting, "Hallo, good mornin to yeh!"
Image

"If I die, put on my tombstone that I died doing what I loved, eating babies."
-Rinna Cooper

"If you wanna make a statement, say nothin at all."

Tip jar: the author of this post has received 0.00 INK in return for their work.

User avatar
Chrome Shiny
Member for 15 years
Conversation Starter Conversationalist Lifegiver

Re: Tis a Good Thing, My Feet are Sore.

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Doodlepad on Mon Dec 19, 2011 5:01 pm

Resed blinked a moment and couldn't help but smile. "Well now, not everyone is so unhappy to see me eh Rundy?" The horse bobbed her head as if in agreement. "Hello there Lad!" Resed shouted " And a good morning to you! Though I must say it's getting rather cold for my taste." Which wasn't true, Resed had an uncanny tolerance for the cold but the heat was another thing all together.
"Are you heading to...." Resed stumbled over his words as he came near enough to see that the boy had two different colored eyes. Although Resed had seen much in his days, more than most, it was something he hadn't expected to see in this part of Ellinsdale, and for whatever reason it put him off guard. He chuckled. "Scuse me, Are you headed towards Junction boy? I don't mind a companion."

Tip jar: the author of this post has received 0.00 INK in return for their work.

User avatar
Doodlepad
Member for 13 years
Promethean Conversation Starter Conversationalist

Re: Tis a Good Thing, My Feet are Sore.

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Chrome Shiny on Tue Dec 20, 2011 8:56 pm

Shareth couldn't help but notice Resed's reaction, after all, his eyes often had that effect on people. That they would surprise a man who looked as Resed did, made him consider it a compliment. Though his appearance was odd, and a wee bit unsettling, he seemed like a nice enough guy. "Aye, It is a bit cold. Since I have no set destination at the moment, I wouldn't mind traveling with you to Junction. I'm Shareth Alynor, a traveler and former farm hand."

Tip jar: the author of this post has received 0.00 INK in return for their work.

User avatar
Chrome Shiny
Member for 15 years
Conversation Starter Conversationalist Lifegiver

Re: Tis a Good Thing, My Feet are Sore.

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Doodlepad on Wed Dec 21, 2011 1:28 pm

"Haha, a Former farm hand eh? What made you leave the farm life lad? Aww don't worry, you don't have to answer that. My name is Resed Reddingfold of Rosignold and it is good to meet you Master Shareth Alynor. Oh here I have an extra cloak you may borrow if you like." He unmounted and began to dig through his saddlebags when he was interupted by a deep gurgling croak from the sky. "Ah Rukruk, there you are." He raised his hand to meet the bird which dropped a small rolled up piece of parchment then ungracefully landed on his head. Rukruk was a large raven the size of hawk and it glared down at Shareth with beady black eyes, as if he were judging him.
"Shareth meet Rukruk my faithful companion. Rukruk say hello to our friend." The bird simply ruffled it's feathers and belted out a loud croaking CAW!
"Ah I see." Said Resed reading the parchment. "He'll meet us in the hills west of Junction at noon the day after tomorrow. Good we have time. Shall we walk then?"
Last edited by Doodlepad on Mon Dec 26, 2011 3:39 pm, edited 1 time in total.

Tip jar: the author of this post has received 0.00 INK in return for their work.

User avatar
Doodlepad
Member for 13 years
Promethean Conversation Starter Conversationalist

Re: Tis a Good Thing, My Feet are Sore.

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Chrome Shiny on Thu Dec 22, 2011 1:23 pm

"Alright, let's go." Shareth said, hoisting his pack onto his shoulders, and walking along. "It is a pleasure to meet you both, Resed Reddingfold of Rosignold, and Rukruk. I left the farm life because I've got a bad case of wanderlust. I wanna go and see as much of this world as I can, and bring back the stories of my travels. The people in my village, almost none of them have set foot out of town in their many years. I didn't want that, a life where everything is the same, day after day, where nothing changes, ever." He smiles wistfully at the thought of further travels. "anyway, I've never been to Junction before, so I figured it's as good a destination as any at this point. How about you, you're meeting someone there I take it?"

Tip jar: the author of this post has received 0.00 INK in return for their work.

User avatar
Chrome Shiny
Member for 15 years
Conversation Starter Conversationalist Lifegiver

Re: Tis a Good Thing, My Feet are Sore.

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Doodlepad on Mon Dec 26, 2011 4:13 pm

"Yes my good friend Ayden. He wishes to go to Einterdale, but he needs a guide since well, he's forgotten how to be.....human. I figured I could help him on his quest. Though I doubt it'll be much of an adventure for you." Resed pulled out the cloak he was searching for before and handed it to Shareth. "Here, wear this till we get to the next town. I'll find you a nicer cloak then, and a fresh horse." It was faded and warn with holes, offering only a little protection from the wind. Rukruk croaked and hopped from Resed's head to his shoulder, still eyeing Shareth as he would a fresh carcass.
Luckily for Shareth, the next town was only an hour or so walk away, and there Resed knew he could find a fir trimmed cloak and a decent mount for his new friend.
As they walked he considered the possible solution for the dogs he would encounter in town. It was something he dealt with whenever he traveled. Some folks could smell it, but all the dogs could smell it as certain as day. Resed had a faint odor, a strange smell of decay and disease. It made dogs bark and whimper and run in circles with their tails tucked between their legs whenever he came within a mile, and it made horses whinny with panic. Rundy of course, didn't react because she had become accustomed to the smell. Rukruk on the other hand enjoyed the smell of death and black magic, so he had no complaints.
Resed had tried in the past, perfumes, spells, potions, and even illusions, but nothing was powerful enough to hide the odor. Today he had a tiny vial of some clearish liquid which, undetectable by humans, but pleasant for dogs, the idea was that the dogs would be more confused than frightened. Either way, he was thankful that elves seldom traveled so far north since their sensitive noses could detect him as easily as a dead fish in a field of roses.

Tip jar: the author of this post has received 0.00 INK in return for their work.

User avatar
Doodlepad
Member for 13 years
Promethean Conversation Starter Conversationalist

Re: Tis a Good Thing, My Feet are Sore.

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Chrome Shiny on Tue Dec 27, 2011 12:43 pm

"On the contrary, I've never been to Einterdale, so I would very much like to see it. Assuming your friend Ayden doesn't mind me tagging along," Shareth responds. As Resed hands him an old cloak, Shareth takes it and smiles, "thank you, that's very kind. I should have enough to afford both once we get there."
Shareth neglected to mention that his money would be really tight afterwards, but he'd figure something out. As Resed ponders, Shareth follows suit. Being a half-blood, he had aspects of both Elves and Humans. The elves developed sense of smell did not happen to be one of them, but that didn't mean he didn't suspect Resed was more than he seemed. The way he dressed, and the aura he gave off seemed to contrast greatly with his personality, at least at first glance. Shareth was sure Resed knew some sort of magic, but he didn't want to pry. While a curious lad, he had been raised to be polite as well. He also wondered about Reseds friend who had forgotten how to be human. "I hope your friend is going to be alright. I never knew how to be human, nor did I figure out the secret of being an elf. I'm a bit of both, yet I am neither. I guess I only know how to be myself, but it'd be a real shame if I forgot how to be me," Shareth muses thoughtfully.

Tip jar: the author of this post has received 0.00 INK in return for their work.

User avatar
Chrome Shiny
Member for 15 years
Conversation Starter Conversationalist Lifegiver

Re: Tis a Good Thing, My Feet are Sore.

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Doodlepad on Tue Dec 27, 2011 4:33 pm

"Huh?" Resed pulled himself out of his deep thought. " Oh he'll be alright, he just doesn't remember his manners very well. He's lived too long away from people and well, you forget things." He smiled and eyed Shareth. "A half elf eh? Can't say I've met one such as yourself. Those elven folk seem to keep to themselves mostly." As he said this they entered into a little town called Thimblebeury, many of the shops on the main road were open for business and looked friendly enough, but Resed turned down a side street away from the crowd. "Should be right around here." He mumbled to himself.
"WE DON'T SERVE YOUR KIND AROUND HERE!" An ugly squat man with a missing eye and a pock marked face burst from the building next to them. Rukruk Cawed and took flight and Resed jumped grasping his sword hilt.

"For shit's sake Bandor! You scared me." Resed said as he pressed his hand to his chest to still his racing heart. Rukruk glared from the roof,not feeling amused.

"Bwahahaha! me scare you, you creepy bastard!" He grinned displaying his off colored teeth. His voice was gruff like a gargling toad and the white of his only eye was stained yellow "Well well, what does ole Resed Want today? OH! you came at a good time! I have a freshly dug up skeleton! A complete one too. Bastard died only a week ago, and I know you like them fresh!" Resed clapsed his pale hand on Bandor's ugly mouth.

"Ehem!" Resed directed Bandor's gaze towards Shareth with his eyes.

"Oh right, did I say skeleton? I meant to say I have a freshly dug up sweet potato!"

"ugh..." Resed shook his head.

Tip jar: the author of this post has received 0.00 INK in return for their work.

User avatar
Doodlepad
Member for 13 years
Promethean Conversation Starter Conversationalist

Re: Tis a Good Thing, My Feet are Sore.

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Chrome Shiny on Sun Jan 01, 2012 6:29 pm

Though Bandor had perhaps given Shareth a clue as to the nature of his traveling companion, he did not wish to pursue that line of questioning just yet. Now was neither the time nor place for that. In fact, it might be better not to pursue it, and instead play innocent. And he knew just the way to do it to, "All this talk of sweet potatoes and skeletons reminds me of a story. Back home, we had an old dog named Rebour, who likes to knaw on a particularly weird item. You see, a couple of winters ago, Old Lady Anni died. Since the ground was too frozen to dig, we couldn't go and bury her, so we waited for the spring thaw. Well, whilst we waited to bury her, wouldn't ya know it, but one of her hands somehow wandered off. We searched high and low for that travelin hand, but twas nowhere to be found. Eventually we decided to bury her sans the hand, figuring it probably had found a new home. It wasn't until it was time for the sweet potato harvest that we uncovered her hand in the potato patch. As it turns out, old Rebour had taken a liking to her hand and buried it in the potato patch with the rest of his stash. Needless to say, that dog was quite unhappy that we found his owners hand. Since Old Lady Anni was so fond of Rebour, we let him keep the hand as a momento. It grosses out the visitors, but the locals like to tell the tale of Rebour and the Hand."

Tip jar: the author of this post has received 0.00 INK in return for their work.

User avatar
Chrome Shiny
Member for 15 years
Conversation Starter Conversationalist Lifegiver

Re: Tis a Good Thing, My Feet are Sore.

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Doodlepad on Tue Jan 03, 2012 5:42 pm

Resed and Bandor looked at Shareth, neither saying a word for a moment, as if taking their time to process what Shareth had just told them.

"Heh well that's uh....an interesting story Shareth." Resed laughed nervously. "Yes well um, Bandor as it is, I'd like to discuss.....things, business, but our young friend here is in need of a horse and decent winter cloak." He gestured to Shareth.

"Ah, I have cloaks! Fine Cloaks too, but for horses you ought to find ole Clancey. He's the only man in this God Forsaken town who has a decent horse, but he'll be wanting more than half over what it's worth." Bandor said as he rubbed his stubbled chin.

"Hmm well shit, Clancey is in no way fond of me." Resed bent low, and whispered into bandor's ear. "Tell me Bandor is there a way, say one of your connections could perhaps..... take Clancey's horse tonight so that we might borrow it? We'll be sure to return it before the week's end, and I'll be certain to return it with a heavy purse tied about it's neck."

Bandor made a gruff gurgling noise from his throat that was supposedly a laugh. "You know, that's why Clancey doesn't like you in the first place. But! I believe Slinker is up to nothing this evening, he'd be interested, if persuaded..."

Resed pulled out a money purse from within his tunic and with nible white fingers he held up a sparkling red ruby. Bandor's eyes grew large and refused to look anywhere but at the ruby. "Yes that would do it."

"Take half the money for yourself and half for Slinker. Now about that cloak? It had better be warm."

Quick as lightning Bandor snatched the ruby with his grubby little hands. "Right! Well mister Shareth I hope you like the color green because, I have the nicest green cloak lined with fur from a great white northern bear. It's the warmest and nicest cloak I got!" He opened the door to his little cluttered shop. There was no sign above the door, one had to know Bandor to ever find his shop.
It was a good thing too, since many of the items inside were stolen, illegal, or just plain strange. It was, dusty and dark and every nook and cranney was filled with junk. From books, tombs, scrolls, rotten fruit, entire sets of armor, rusted swords, Bags of beans, Jars with floating bloated heads, a live rooster, and clothes piled high on the furniture. There was another room in the back, emitting the oddest of odors.

Tip jar: the author of this post has received 0.00 INK in return for their work.

User avatar
Doodlepad
Member for 13 years
Promethean Conversation Starter Conversationalist

Re: Tis a Good Thing, My Feet are Sore.

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Scaea on Tue Jan 03, 2012 6:07 pm

Aled looked up toward the shining wooden shanty town of Thimblebury. It didn't really shine, but it looked like it to Aled. He rubbed his chin roguishly and thought. It had been a damn long time since he'd been in a town of any sort and he was feeling the need to find some one besides Tigirid to talk to. The thin little man beside him was glancing nervously into the wind as if he could sniff it like a dog. Aled pulled his satin cloak a little tighter. He just had to ask:

"What the hell are you doing?"

Tigirid glanced askew at him, and murmured something. Sounded like 'nothing'. Aled shook his head. "I want to go to town." Tigirid nodded. As though he had already known as much.

Silence continued. Aled looked at Tigirid expectantly. Finally, "Well?" he asked.

"What?" returned Tigirid, still not paying poor Aled any attention.

"Do you want to go to town, my fine fellow?" he all but shouted.

Tigirid just shrugged. Again.

"Well as long as we are in agreement." Aled pulled his cloak a little tighter again. The thing didn't keep him all that warm, but it was velvety smooth and it was Aled's favorite. A flake of snow fell in front of his eyes. "And as the weather is turning rather quickly. I say! We are going to have to be moving south. This winter thing is getting on my nerves."

"It's just winter." said Tigirid with another shrug, still looking into the wind. "Yeah. Let's go to town." he shivered and sauntered ahead for Aled to follow.

"Why? What's made up your mind so quickly?"

Tigirid shrugged, "Could be nothing."

Maddening! Thought Aled. Simply maddening! "If you shrug your shoulders once more I'm gonna time 'em down. Mate." Tigirid shrugged.

"All right!" shouted Aled and ran after him, but Tigirid was much faster on his feet.

"You can't forget Marni." Tigirid whispered behind him and ran on to town. Growling, Aled was forced to stop and turn around for their horse. He'd just have to put ol' Tig's fingers in some water after he fell asleep that night; it would just take a little patience. Aled jumped onto Marni and started after his friend. Utterly failing to notice how nervous the horse had become over the last few hours.
Be The Change

Tip jar: the author of this post has received 0.00 INK in return for their work.

User avatar
Scaea
Member for 13 years
Promethean Conversation Starter Conversationalist Lifegiver

Re: Tis a Good Thing, My Feet are Sore.

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby cmpuncle on Tue Jan 03, 2012 10:37 pm

"Well, well it looks like we have a storm rolling in, and do I sense black magic in the town? Delicious I think I just may have to go out hunting in the village as soon as the storm rolls in." Phoenix stood glaring out the window, taking in the sweet smell of dark magic that was now permeating the entire village. Of all the abilities he had learned over the years he found his ability to sniff out magic seemed to amuse him the most. The individual smells, particularly the darker ones were like ambrosia to him. He lived in what appeared to most to be an abandoned building on the edge of town, but in reality it was all an illusion he had constructed over the years, he had even put spells in place that would turn most of the purely curious away at the gate with an overwhelming feeling of fear. He moved away from the window, chuckling maliciously, and sat down in a chair where he could continue to look out over the village and contemplate the coming hunt while waiting for the weather to arrive and mask his movements.
"Why So Serious?" Heath Ledger-The Joker-The Dark Knight
"He's the hero Gotham deserves but not the one it needs right now." Commissioner Gordon-The Dark Knight
"I'm not supposed to lose!" Setzer-Kingdom Hearts 2

Tip jar: the author of this post has received 0.00 INK in return for their work.

User avatar
cmpuncle
Member for 15 years
Conversation Starter Conversationalist Lifegiver

Re: Tis a Good Thing, My Feet are Sore.

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Chrome Shiny on Wed Jan 04, 2012 2:51 am

That nervous laughter...Either I'm on to something with my hunch, or they honestly don't know how to react to a tale popping up out of the blue like that... thought Shareth as he watched the two old friends converse. When Resed leaned in to whisper to Bandor, he couldn't help but feel a little worried. Resed certainly seemed to keep a lot of secrets. When dealing with strange people, secrets could often be dangerous, or leads to a great story. Either way, Shareth was slightly reassured by his companions nervousness. If he meant Shareth harm, he doubted Resed would be nervous. "Right! Well mister Shareth I hope you like the color green because, I have the nicest green cloak lined with fur from a great white northern bear. It's the warmest and nicest cloak I got," Bandor declares, shaking Shareth from his reverie.
"Wouldn't you know it, that's my favorite color. Lead the way Bandor!"
As he enters the shop, Shareth's jaw drops as he struggles to contain his urge to explore. With every nook and cranny filled with all sorts of wondrous and potentially ill-gotten goods, it set his desire to explore on fire.
I gotta calm down. This is neither the time nor place to be wandering into who knows what, he thinks to himself. He was like a kid in a candy store, albeit a candy store filled with all sorts of odds and ends of dubious quality. He wanders around for a bit, searching for the green cloak described to him by Bandor. The first and most logical place to look would be one of the myriad piles of clothes. Upon reaching said pile though, Shareth feels a bit of trepidation. Considering the amazing organization scheme Bandor had instituted within his shop, all manner of things could be lurking in that pile of clothes. He would be only mildly surprised to find a dragon calmly nestled amongst the clothes. With a shake of his head, Shareth dispels such imagery from his head and begins his search.

Tip jar: the author of this post has received 0.00 INK in return for their work.

User avatar
Chrome Shiny
Member for 15 years
Conversation Starter Conversationalist Lifegiver

Re: Tis a Good Thing, My Feet are Sore.

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Doodlepad on Wed Jan 04, 2012 4:37 pm

"Ah no no no! There's nothing in that rubbish. Let me get it for you it's upstairs." The rotund man waddled up the creeky stairs.
Resed sneezed from the dust. "Shareth I'm going to take a look in back, I know he has some items that are of interest to me in there. Stay out here and look around if you like though you should watch your fingers." He warned with a smile before stepping into the foul smelling room.

His eyes roamed about the ever familiar room. It was a well kempt room in comparison to the other, yew wands and wands made of bone were laid out nicely on the table. Skulls sat staring with empty sockets on shelves, and tombs neatly organized were stacked in the corner. There were also chests filled with vials of blood, many of them Resed recognized, the foul smell was coming from a large couldren in the hearth, which Bandor used to boil the meat off bones.
He pulled out a wand from his sword hilt, It was three feet long and made of polished bone with a sharpened point.The handle was like that of a sword, and his magic hilt kept the wand well concealed, most folks suspected it was an average sword. He looked down the length of his wand, inspecting it for marks unseen. He then felt the other wands on display with his fingers, closing his eyes feeling for magic. No, none of them could compare to the one he already owned, the one he had made so long ago. He then began searching for the sack of bones, Bandor had mentioned, a new skeleton would be useful. His old skeleton sets were beginning to fall apart. He found it, the bone still pink from the flesh that had one clung onto it. Perfect.

Outside the raven ruffled it's feathers, keeping watch over the rooftops. He spotted a female, flying in lazy circles in the grey sky. He often thought about leaving Resed, finding a mate, and building a nest somewhere, but the benefits of having his human companion were too good to give up for married life. He followed her with his eyes till she soared in front of a window, and something some human probably, caught his beady black eye, and he watched.

Bandor came back downstairs with the heavy green cloak in his arms. "Here we are, beautiful. Yes you'll look like a nobleman in this lad!"

It had been snowing for a good long while already in the Cavern Troll mountains and the trail Ayden was to use had been burried under several feet of snow. he didn't mind, why would he? He was a kid on his way to visit a friend, see the men folk he used to know, and explore on his own. It was easy enough to convince Hazel to let him go by himself, she understood him better than anyone and like him, she feared less in life. Maygnana was a different story, like a grandmother she fretted over it, but she made him a warm hat, a good coat, and filled his saddle bags with enough food to feed an army. Luckily it wasn't much weight for the three hundred pound boar. Grentyl was also hesitant to let him go, his overbearing need to protect everyone from everything made argueing with him difficult. But he finally yeilded when Ayden explained to him that he was growing into a man now and needed to prove it to himself, something an Alpha Druid would understand. With that Grentyl gave him Grandfather's Skull. A large wolf skull with it's old grey pelt attached to it, to be warn on your head, like a warrior. The skull covered his whole head and he had to lift it up to see from under the teeth, and the pelt was large enough, that it draped over his back and kept him warm, giving him the appearend of a shaggy beast..
The Massive red Boar trotted foward, his nose just above the snow. It was deep but he was a powerful animal and waded through it like water.
"Um I think we go that way?" Ayden looked right to a clearing of trees, where the path perhaps cut through. He tilted up the skull to see.
"No" said the boar in his deep rumbling and ancient voice. "I know this way, I remember it from the last time we came here."

Tip jar: the author of this post has received 0.00 INK in return for their work.

User avatar
Doodlepad
Member for 13 years
Promethean Conversation Starter Conversationalist

Re: Tis a Good Thing, My Feet are Sore.

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Scaea on Wed Jan 04, 2012 7:42 pm

Aled finally found Tigirid in a small in. The rotten man had already paid (too much) for their rooms in the more run down place in Thimblebeury. The small man obviously had never taken all that much consideration toward what he was laying on.

Aled would probably want to sleep on the floor in a place like this. He heaved a tired sigh and clocked Tigirid on the back of the head.

"You don't have the money for anything better!" his friend growled at Aled.

"That's why we make a little money."

"Steal a little money. You're going to get caught. Someday."

"Only if I stop being careful." Aled grinned, "So I better just keep on my toes. Get us a tab going. I'm going to want dinner when I get back."

"Get back from where?"

"Well. We got to chat up a few locals. Get some news, right."

Tigirid sulked. "Right" he murmered but followed Aled's directions. If Aled was going to get caught, Tigirid would have to be free to save him.

Tip jar: the author of this post has received 0.00 INK in return for their work.

User avatar
Scaea
Member for 13 years
Promethean Conversation Starter Conversationalist Lifegiver

Re: Tis a Good Thing, My Feet are Sore.

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Scaea on Thu Jan 05, 2012 6:00 pm

Aled stepped back out of the dead air of the inn and into the crisp evening air of Thimblebeury. He shook himself and sighed with contentment. Yes, it was contentment. It was good to leave Tigirid behind for a little while. He loved the thin little man, but sometimes (if he was the only person to talk to) Aled felt like he was forgetting what real people were like. Real people, who talked, who laughed. And, sometimes, it was nice if Aled didn't know them. Then there was something... challenging about talking with them.

All Aled wanted tonight was a challenge. And perhaps a little silver, but that wasn't the first thing on his mind. And maybe, just maybe, some quick female companionship for the night. This would be far, far superior to the Tigirid’s shack.

The streets of Thimblebeury were disappointingly deserted. There was a grizzled old man dragging a cart behind him, and a few pedestrians whispering together.

must be in the wrong part of town... thought Aled, There is nothing fun out here. The sun was dipping down into the west, just the best part of day to be in town, but a little too early for the ale-houses.

Finally, he spotted another local wandering around, probably headed home, for she had a small sack hanging from her hands. He stopped her with an over-elaborate show of friendliness. Dazzling her with the best words he could dredge out of his mind, she pointed him toward the center of town. Thanking her, he started toward it with more fervor in his step. He quickly wound his way through her directions and found the main street. There were many more people, but it still was not a busy metropolis. He thought, sadly, that he didn't have very much chance of finding any "companionship", but he would easily take a few coins and get belligerently drunk. What else could a person do in a good ol' fashioned town!

He engaged a passing baker in raucous conversation. But the most news he learned from the man was that his children had all just gotten over a horrible case of illness where they all had puffy red spots and ghastly fevers. But that his wife was now afflicted. Aled showed all the sympathy that was acceptable and walked away with a small boule beneath his cloak.
Last edited by Scaea on Fri Jan 06, 2012 3:44 pm, edited 1 time in total.

Tip jar: the author of this post has received 0.00 INK in return for their work.

User avatar
Scaea
Member for 13 years
Promethean Conversation Starter Conversationalist Lifegiver

Re: Tis a Good Thing, My Feet are Sore.

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Doodlepad on Fri Jan 06, 2012 1:32 pm

Rett trudged through the snow for the next few days, settling down at night. Ayden rested his back on the Boar's side, and let the fire warm his feet. Before the dawn they rose again and continued their uneventful journey down the mountains. Ayden practiced shooting rabbits along the way but he was a terrible shot and releyed on the food Magyana had packed for him. After a while he began to wish that he had invited Hazel, he had only Rett to talk to, and Rett was often cryptic. Although Hazel wasn't much of a talker either, she'd at least play games, and sing songs. So he sang to himself most of the way, letting the cold air bite at his throat.
On the sixth day RukRuk met them to tell them how far they were from Resed.

"He could make it junction in the next couple of days, that's where you ought to go." He croaked sitting on Rett's backside.
"Alright then, I'll write him to tell him to meet us by Junction." He stopped for the night and pulled out a journal with some scrap pieces of parchment in it and used a burnt end of a stick to write his scribbly letters. It took a fairly long time to write it, since he hadn't learned how to read or write very well. The raven was surprisingly skilled in writing and reading, something he thought would later be important, and so he helped Ayden.
"JAY!" He cawed, "YOO...EGHN!"

Tip jar: the author of this post has received 0.00 INK in return for their work.

User avatar
Doodlepad
Member for 13 years
Promethean Conversation Starter Conversationalist

Re: Tis a Good Thing, My Feet are Sore.

Tips: 0.00 INK Postby Scaea on Fri Jan 06, 2012 4:50 pm

Tigirid sat in front of the fire and stared clearly into its depths. Nursing a warm beer, he was paying more attention to the sounds and smells of the tavern around him. Aled always got mad at him if he purchased a room at such a place, but Tigirid always did. If he was doing the purchasing. Tigirid like these sorts of places much more than the fancy shirt places that Aled always got.

Tigirid didn’t even have a fancy shirt.

The inn smelled of stale ale and sweat. Of fatty meat and barrels of cheap wine. The customers were usually missing a part of their body. The ratty Tigirid fit right in.

He slammed down the rest of his beer and turned back to the tavern.

Tip jar: the author of this post has received 0.00 INK in return for their work.

User avatar
Scaea
Member for 13 years
Promethean Conversation Starter Conversationalist Lifegiver

Next

Post a reply

Make a Donation

$

RPG relies exclusively on user donations to support the platform.

Donors earn the "Contributor" achievement and are permanently recognized in the credits. Consider donating today!

 

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 1 guest