The Stonetree Guild

The Stonetree Guild

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Sometimes the world’s greatest heroes emerge from the most unlikely circumstances.

574 readers have visited The Stonetree Guild since Everscale created it.

Introduction

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The Story


Sometimes, the world’s greatest heroes rise from the least likely of places. Like the smallest of ripples in a lake, they grow to match the circumstances. That was the beginning of the great Guild of Stonetree. They were orphans – the Founding Four – and at the time, Stonetree was not but a small farming village. The name would not have appeared on the map, did the village not sit on the junction between the Imperial Highway of Delta and the road through the Two-Range pass. Firmly based in the Icefields, Stonetree was good for farming and little else.

Like their home village, four young orphans had little hope of a future. No room to grow, no one to help them get it. Four friends, alone in the world, but their hearts were in the right place. That is how they came to be where they are today.

Krista, Ruin, Daedra, and William, four children different as the moon is from the sun. Together, they had survived their lonely childhoods, keeping one another alive when no one else would. They had no reason to care for the fate of Tane. No one in their land had offered them sanctuary or aid. Yet the four of them, side-by-side, foresaw the coming of disaster. They sought out masters of the arts of war, worked to earn their lessons. Mastered their realms. To save the world which had forsaken them, they abandoned their homes in Stonetree, went their separate ways… became warriors.

Krista, a woman of fire and ice, who lived by the blade as most men would, sought out the mercenary bands of the Thurgood Plains. She learned to bare a blade as an extension of her soul, to survive off her wit and her womanly charm. She became the Red Hand.

Ruin, blessed with the gift of mystic foresight, ventured to the forest, which had always so deeply called to him. He searched for days for the reclusive coven of the druids, hidden away in the Thenet Wood. Waiting for the druids to show themselves, he kept himself alive with nothing more than the unfamiliar flora and fauna which surrounded him. Still alive after two long months, the druids finally showed themselves to him.

Daedra, a man who had never believed in the greatness of the gods, left in search of an art which would allow him to heal the wounds of his dearest friends. This power he found only in the arms of the priesthood. Though repulsed by the thought of servitude to any God, Daedra’s ambitions won out. He joined the ranks of the devout clerics in Delta.

And finally, William. A boy of noble intentions, he wandered further than all the rest, far beyond the borders of Tane to find the ranks of the Sullirian Knighthood. He climbed from the ground up, starting his career as a kitchen boy. By the time he returned to his homeland of Tane, he had become the Silver Knight.

Five years. Five long years they trained, and returned to Tane as young men and women of great skill. There they founded, in secret, their Guild of Stonetree. There they began to plan for the burning future that Ruin had witnessed in his visions. They were prepared when it came – only they were prepared.
The rest of their tale is told as legend. The Stonetree Guild rose out of the tall grasses of the Icefields to counter the dark armies of the Northern lands. They gathered around them warriors of great prowess, and together the Founding Four lead their army to an unlikely victory.

In the twelve years since, the Stonetree Guild became the largest in Tane. The village of Stonetree has become recognized throughout the land, the legendary heroes bolstering its reputation, swelling it into a small city. The Founding Four stood together, a force for peace, fighting for the security of the people of Tane. They asked for little in return – recognition, and only enough pay to survive as a Guild. They were revered. Children dreamed of becoming what they had become.

Until two weeks ago.

Krista was always an unstable creature. The Red Hand, the Dark Temptress, she embodied lust in all its forms. Sexuality, bloodlust, wanderlust… she could not be satisfied. Her tastes were wild, her focus tainted. Easily bored, she did anything in power to keep herself entertained. For a time, the Guild served that purpose. She had her battles, her friends, even willing toys to satisfy her physical desires. The other three believed that she would remain happy forever, believed that even unhappy her friendship would hold true.

No one knows exactly when, or how, it happened. Bored, Krista snapped. By the time Ruin and William realized what had happened… Daedra and twelve other guild-members were dead at Krista’s hands, and the Red Hand had disappeared. She left behind no clues to her location – only a scrawled note for the remaining pair of her companions.

I am not a creature of peace. Come, join me in my play. We will wage a war to be rivaled by no other.



The Land of Tane


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To navigate through this place, press CTRL + F, and then type in the number-letter code for the section you want to go to.

Locations – A1
Gods – A2
Races – A3
Rules – A4
Characters and Character Creation – A5



A1 – Locations

Godsprings and Delta – the god of life, Shakkel, struck the cliffs that mark the edge of the northern Icefields with the hammer that forged the world, unleashing four streams of water called the Godsprings. The water from these four springs is of a holy origin, and has properties that can heal and rejuvenate. The Godsprings are watched over by the Clerics of Shakkel, to whom he gave both the Godsprings and the city of Delta that rests between them. It is in Delta that all clerics study the histories, practice healing and aiding magic, and converse with their gods. Delta is home to the largest Temple of the Gods yet to be built. A dome of translucent silver light covers the city of Delta, protecting it ceoma ll that would harm it. The water which comes through that dome is clean and free of all threat, and anything that passes through the shields finds themselves purged of all evil that once contaminated it. This dome also serves as a shield against beings of evil nature; it is said that a black mage attempting to pass through the shield without the protection of Shakkel will be stripped of his soul. This has never been tested, with good reason.

The Seshamine Range, Cliff’s Edge, and Eagleview – the Seshamine Range is the oldest, and most dangerous, mountain range in Tane. Inhabited by ferocious creatures that exist nowhere else but among its aged peaks, only the most experienced travelers risk a journey through these mountains. Most try for Two-Range Pass, a small gap between the tips of the Seshamine and Dala mountain ranges. It is said that, once, these two ranges were on in the same, forming a sort of arc around the Thurgood Plains, but that Furogh; the Earth-Shaper; struck down one o the many mountains to form a pass between them, that the plainsmen could make contact with the humans of the Godsprings and strengthen their people. Cliff’s Edge and Eagleview are cities built at the edges of the Seshamine Range; one on one side of the mountains, the other opposite it. Cliff’s Edge wasa city of the horsemen from the Thurgood Plains, and Eagleview the city of men venturing out of Godsprings. When the two people met in Two-Range Pass, the cities became mixed. Cliff’s Edge is a center of trade between the horsemen and the people of Godsprings. Eagleview is a center of trade between the elves in Elfingrove and throughout Thenet and Bulson Woods, and the people of the Godsprings. Eagleview is also the home of a graceful Temple of the Gods, and to the greatest Tower of High Magic in all of Tane.

Thurgood Plains, Drak Shat, and Malimoor – the Thurgood Plains are the home of the great horse-tribes. Once a barbaric, tribal race, though they still travel in family clans during the summer while they raise their herds, they have developed a system of cities that house the people during the winter. These cities are called Drak Shat and Malimoor. Malimoor is the more recent city, and so of a more sturdy construction; built of stones imported from the dwarves in the Dala Range. Drak Shat, their first city, is built almost entirely of wood and thatch; now, when buildings burn, they are replaced with stone, so there are a few dwarf-work houses there as well. Drak Shat is their main trading camp; this is where they drive their herds for the three-week summer trading fair every year. As such, it is populated throughout the year; some plainsmen who have left their nomadic ways to become merchants or craftsmen maintain a permanent residence. Malimoor, on the other hand, is abandoned during the summer. The businesses there open only when the merchants and craftsmen arrive a few weeks ahead of the others. These are people who were selected at the end of the previous winter to end their herding early and take up the mantle of shopkeepers for the next year. New shopkeepers are chosen every year. Malimoor would not have been built at all, but for the fact that another city was necessary to support the growing population of plainsmen and to give a house to those who could not make it to Drak Shat because of early snows.

The Gray Plateau, the Swamps of Dethe, and Grasshome – the Gray Plateau was once the home of a grand city, spanning almost seventy miles in all directions. This city was the only home and the birthplace of the kinderlings, or, as they are known to elves, barilas; little elves. However, a century in the past, it became the focal point fot eh armies of Zerval; god of light; and Helkara; goddess of the dark; struck it down to prevent her enemies from making a collective attack on her children. The kinderlings fled, and have become a separated, wandering race, finding hoes among all the races. They have never returned to their home on the Plateau. There is nothing left that can live there; it a plateau of perpetually burning ash. Only a few of the hardiest men and women, and all of them children of Helkara, have managed to resettle there, in the little city of Grasshome which has sprouted in the wake of Helkara’s wrath. They survive there by trading the endless supply of ash for food and water from the plainsmen, who can then sell the ash to mages and clerics for use in their spells, as the unholy ash is an extremely potent component. To keep her children alive, Helkara has promised to continuously replenish the ash. About twenty miles away from Grasshome, on the other side of the Assifin River, lie the swamps of the Dethe. The Dethe being reclusive and almost at toal mystery to the rest of the races of the world, not much is known about the Swamps. No mapper who has ever gone more than ten miles into the Swamps has ever returned. Countless mappers and adventurers have simply disappeared after daring the seemingly featureless forest of monsters and Dethe. No one has ever seen a full-blooded Dethe; only the half-bloods that they sent out from their lands to ‘watch’ the other races. Because little is known about the apparently neutral Dethe, every disappearance or death that occurs in the area where one has taken up inhabitance is blamed on them. It is said that the Dethe can suck out a man’s soul, if they get too close. No one has ever seen it done, but many still maintain that it is true.

The Dala Range, Hardard, Shakere, Aldet, and Califine Lake – the Dala Range is the largest, and safest, mountain range in Tane. It is ancient and riddled with the thousands of caves; natural and not; which give homes to the dwarves. Because these fearseome fighters and powerful smiths live here, any monsters which might have once made their homes here had long since fled to the safety of the Seshamine Range. Still, this range is harder to cross during the winter than the Seshamine; there are very few passes, because its residents use caves, and those few fill to the brim with snow during the cold seasons. The only sanctuaries that a mountain traveler can reach are the cities of Hardard and Aldet, both on opposite sides of the Califine Lake at the direct center of the Dala Range. They are small mining towns built in surface caves not used by the dwarves. They are kept supplied all through the summer, and as soon as it gets cold, ten months worth of supplies are stocked up in deeper caves to ensure that anyone who comes to these cities for refuge will be able to survive. There are no permanent residents of these cave-towns. They are only inhabited by stranded adventurers. The only other city in the Dala Range is Shakere, the city of the dwarves. Seven miles below the surface, it is virtually unreachable by any who are not dwarven. It is a sprawling complex; a perfect example of the beauty of dwarven craftsmanship. Tall, thick, twisting spires carved out of the very rock are the houses where the dwarves live. The spires are hollowed out, with slabs of stone left between each set of rooms. These rooms are accessible by the twisting stone walkways which spiral up the sides of the pillars, and dwarves can cross from one pillar to another using arching bridges which were left un-carved. As dwarves are not people to stay in the home, they are more likely to be found in the workshops or working and sparring in the caverns; each dwarven family needs only one level in these pillars, because all they do in them is sleep. These pillars run in a spiral around the central area, a slight depression in the floor of the massive cave the dwarves’ carving created. This area is where the wares produced in the workshops are sold. It is also where public meetings and celebrations are held. This area, in itself, is almost a mile across. There is a clear, sluggish river running through the center of the depression; bridged by dwarven hands; that is a drain for the Califine Lake. This lake, forty miles wide and one-hundred and twenty miles long, is the largest in Tane, and is considered sacred by the dwarven and dragon folk. It is also several miles deep, and inhabited by shadow water beasts, some of which have never been seen. It is filled by rain and snowmelt, which is constant in these frigid mountains, and by underground springs. It drains through dozens of underground rivers, like the one running through Shakere, which keeps its level more or less constant.

Thenet Woods and the Elfingrove – Thenet Wood is a vast temperate forest, covering hundreds of miles in all directions, lying to the west of the Thurgood Plains and the Seshamine and Dala Ranges. Thenet Wood is made up mostly of deciduous trees, like oaks and maples. In the far northwest it transforms into the expansive evergreen realm of Burson Pines. It, along with Burson Pines, is the home of elfinkind. In its lower reaches, directly beside the Elfinflow, is Elfingrove; the river-side home of the elven race. The elves make their homes within the vast trunks of the Tree of Life. There is only one Tree of Life in Tane; the reason that it wasn’t named as a species. To the idle observer it would appear that the elves make their home in a massive grove of strange, star-leafed trees; thus the common name of Elfingrove. The truth of it, however, is that the entire grove is made up of one tree; the central trunk serves as a meeting-place for the elves, but they do not live there. Thick branches spread out from this central trunk, the lower of which arched downwards and then burrowed into the earth. These branches put out roots of their own, eventually becoming their own trunks. The Tree of Life, as commoners call the great trunk at the center, spreads for twenty square miles. To kill it, one would have to burn the entire grove, thus destroying the whole organism. And even then, the millions of seeds that it has put out to sleep over its long life would germinate, and at least one of them would survive to become a new Tree of Life. Each massive trunk on he Tree of Life is entirely hollow, allowing a beautifl home for the elves. In turn, the magic of the elves’ eternal life nourishes the tree. Though the elves can live without the tree, the tree can not live without the elves; an imbalance relationship, but the elves have no intention of betraying their home. The elves have another word for both Elfingrove and the Tree of Life. Elfingrove, they call Shalk-shafa, Home of the Joined Ones. The Tree of Life they have named Misara, as she is their goddess. For the rest of the world, she is the Goddess of Rebirth; responsible for passing the dead on to another life. Though travelers are permitted to passthrough the grove, none who are not elfinkind have ever been accepted inside Shalk-shafa.

The Burson Pines, the Blackwaste, and the Ruins of Fortend – the Burson Pines is a vast wood, almost as large as Thenet wood, but mad up entirely of evergreens. It, too, houses an elfin race. Burson Pines is home to the drow. They prefer the constant shadow and the quiet of a world where the leaves neither shake nor fall. As it is, they tend to live in hollowed-out hills that they call Mitoko; or ‘my-place’. They are easy to defend, and very difficult to find, as the entrances are in the ceilings and are covered in natural turf. Once, they inhabited the entirety of burson Pines, with a single city that commonfolk called Fortend, and that the drow had no name for. They simply called it the drow word for city; Fortdiend; which was translated into the common name. However, in the same event that made the Gray Plateau, the city of Fortend and a strip of forest sixty miles across and almost three hundred miles long was destroyed by Helkara as punishment to her children for consorting with the children of Zerval. This destroyed area became known as the Blackwaste. It never grew back, and Fortend was abandoned. The drow have never built another city. Few dare to venture into the Blackwaste, for it is inhabited by the wandering souls and corpses of the drow who did not escape their goddess’ wrath. Rather, they have taken shelter below-ground, in the rocky caverns which dot the soil beneath the pine-trees’ roots.

The Icefields and the Sheffindai Desert – the Icefields in the north no longer have any ice. The glaciers which gave them their name; and their random scattering of rounded boulders; have long since receded. Now, they are a vast and fertile land which provides most of the farming in Tane. Mostly flat and almost entirely featureless, except for the boulders and the patchwork colors of the different crops, they are a boring land. And because they are so well inhabited, there are not many monsters there to contend with. The most common enemy here are highwaymen and an occasional wyvern; the few who dare come down out of the mountains hundreds of miles to the north and hunt the livestock. There are no true cities; instead, the flatlands are scattered with small towns where farmers can trade their goods and where adventurers can rest and restock before moving on to more dangerous country. The Sheffindai desert, inhabited by a nomadic, and generally dangerous, people called the Leyathin, is an entirely different story. Extending as far as the eye can see, and further, to the east of the Dala Range, it s a desert of sand and little else. There is almost no water, and the few soaks and oasis that do exist are the subjects of constant war between the Leyathin tribes. Despite the danger of entering a volatile war-zone such as this, many adventurers are too drawn by the many rare monsters; such as giant snakes, scorpions, lizards, and sand-dragons; and by the rumors of vast treasure buried somewhere beneath the sands to pass it up. No one has ever proven the tales of treasure. More adventurers die than survive.

The River Shakkel, Tarsha’s Canyon, and the Elfinflow, Samul, Assifin, and Talek Rivers – the River Shakkel is the vast, swift ribbon of water that is created by the joining of the four Godsprings. It stripes across most of Tane, running into the Seshamine Range, where it has burrowed out the deep gorge of Tarsha’s Canyon which slices the Range in two. From this canyon, it runs into the Elfinflow and the Samul, Assifin, and Talek Rivers. Tarsha’s Canyon found its name in an old children’s story; no one knows if the legend is true. Tarsha was a beautiful woman; half plainsman, half elf; who learned the plans of the army of Zerval from her husband, a general there. When Helkara heard that Tarsha knew the plans, she sent an agent in the form of an enticing young man to learn them. Rather than be tempted into giving her husband away, Tarsha fled to the nearby canyon and hurled herself off its edge. It has been said that Helkara’s shriek of rage was heard even beyond Tane. In the end, Helkara discovered the plans anyways, and the war was ended in the destruction which created the Gray Plateau and the Blackwaste. Tarsha’s futile death became a tale to teach loyalty, discipline, and honor to the children of plainsmen and elves alike, though both races claim that Tarsha appeared more like their kind.

A2 – Gods
Shakkel – the God of Life and Death, and all the non-humanoid races
Furogh – the Eart-Shaper, and the god of dwarves and orcish folk
Zerval – the God of the Light, and of humans and kinderling, and one of the Warring Twins
Helkara – the Goddess of the Dark, and of the drow, Dethe and kinderling, and the second of the Warring Twins
Misara – the Goddess of Rebirth, and of the elves, drow, and Dethe.

A3 – Races
Humans – a good but easily corrupted race following Zerval. They generally range around 5-6 feet in height, and tend to be very strong physically. They are a sturdy, adaptable race; the reason that there are so many different cultures of humans. A new culture seems to develop in every separate climate. They can be almost anything, though they generally prefer swords over bows and magic.

Elves – a neutral, but generally good, race following only the goddess of Misara. Generally ranging around 6-7 feet in height, and very delicate, though lovely, in appearance. They are a slim, quick, but brittle race that requires some type of forest to survive. They have an innate talent for magic; especially spells dealing with nature; and lean towards becoming clerics or mages. They much prefer long-distance battles and ambushes with bows or slings over fighting face-to-face with a sword or a club.

Drow – a neutral race following both the goddess Misara and the goddess Helkara. Ranging from 6-7 feet tall, like their elvish cousins, they resemble something between elf and human in their strength and build. They, like humans, are incredibly versatile; though they prefer double daggers to sword and blunt weapons, and magic to any weapon at all. They are a reclusive people, nervous about mingling with the other races, lest they once more face the wrath of their goddess Helkara. Most drow will attack any non-drow that wanders into their home forest. The entire race has a special fondness for the collection of literature.

Dwarves – one of the most ancient races, following the god who shaped the earth, Furogh. Ranging from 4-4.5 feet tall, 5 at the highest, they are a stocky and powerful race that runs with a rolling, galloping gate. They dislike being away from their mountains, and thoroughly enjoy creating things. Though they prefer stone, they will work with almost any material. They prefer hand-to-hand combat with axes or hammers, but will use a heavy crossbow or ingenious dwarven invention of they must. Dwarven clerics and mages are incredibly rare.

Kinderling – a neutral race following both of the feuding twin-deities, Helkara and Zerval. They are not like other Halflings from outside of Tane. They are not always happy and carefree; though there are rare specimens that act this way. Most of them, in fact, are nervous and sometimes even malicious. They steal because they have to, having been literally blown out of their home on the Gray Plateau and scattered to the winds a hundred years ago. They have since held a grudge against all the races that follow only Zerval, and have become stoic, if sneaky, people. However, once one becomes close to a kinderling, one can find the cheerful Halfing that lives inside all of them. Only when they know the people they are talking to will they be their natural, sprightly selves. They are more commonly thieves than anything else, but startling intelligence and inner strength make it possible for them to be magics, clerics, or fighters as well.

A4 - Rules
1. No god-modding or power-play. Please die occasionally, or get hurt at least. That's what we have healers for.
2. Don't be ridiculous. This is a serious roleplay. Use good names, be creative with characters' personalities and appearances. Anyone read Dragonlance? Yeah. Those were good characters. (Raistlin fangirl --> Everscale)
3. Keep it PG-17 with romance and swearing. Gonna do something crazy? Please fade to black.
4. Stay within the world. If you're going to have a crazy development in your character, you must check it with Everscale first.
5. One character per person, until further notice. (Note: Yes, Everscale is breaking this rule. For plot reasons only.)
6. Keep track of your items in your Equipment section of your profile. Make sure to update it often.
7. Follow the character skeleton.
8. If you're going to use another race's language, make sure to put the translation in parentheses next to it. Generators are permitted.
9. If you read the rules you will know that you have to name your favorite race at the bottom of your profile.
10. This is a fully literate RP. 500 words per post, full sentences, correct punctuation and grammar and capitalization, stay in one tense. You are expected to place a writing sample at the bottom of your profile of at least 300 words.
11. Post at least once a day, unless you have notified Everscale that you will be doing otherwise for a time.
12. Within the Guild, the surviving members of the Founding Four – Ruin and William – are your commanders. If your characters do something they do not like, or break the understood rules of the Guild, they will be removed from the Guild. This does not mean the character leaves the game, they simply must regain favor. Or continue as a freelance warrior.
13. I will only accept a certain number of characters from a certain class. As such, you should be creative. That way your character will more likely be chosen.
14. There will be no reservations. Character number is not limited – it depends on the quality if your profile.
15. Ruin and William will not go on missions with you. Do not count on their support.


A5 – Characters and Character Creation
Also let it be noted that when these spots are filled, I may still accept characters. As long as they are very, very good.


taken – Krista, Ruin, William, and Daedra – taken

taken – Character (everscale) – taken

taken – Thauvin Longstrider – taken

taken – Strykar Wolfswift – taken

open – Character – open



Character Skeleton

In the description section.

Name:
Race:
Class:
Age:
Appearance: (please include a picture)
Level: (start with one, I will announce level-ups)


In the personality section.

Personality:
Diety:
Likes:
Dislikes:
Life Goals:
Fears:
Quirks:


In the equipment section.

Weapons: (normal weapons to begin with, no magic.)
Armor: (normal armor to begin with, no magic.)
Gear: (anything else that you carry, assume that rations are provided)
Animals: (if you have a horse, mule, dog, or cat, which you should not have to start with)
Magic Items: (you should not have these to start with)
Spells: (for mages and clerics, you start with three zero-level spells, I will announce when you can add a spell. Each time, you will gain a certain number of new spells, which you can take from any of the levels at or below your current level. If you have an idea for a spell you would like to create, you may suggest it on the Spell Suggestions thread.)


Clerical spell list  http://www.dandwiki.com/wiki/SRD:Cleric_Spell_List
Druid Spell list (also for clerics) http://www.dandwiki.com/wiki/SRD:Druid_Spell_List
Mage spell list  http://www.dandwiki.com/wiki/Sorcerer/W ... plement%29


In the history section.

History: (where were you born, who was your family, what rank were you, how did you become what you are today?)

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Daylight came slowly to the city of Stonetree, breathing life through the morning wind. The first citizens crept out onto the streets, to sweep their doorsteps and open their shops for the morning rush. Bathed in the rosy glow Stonetree seemed like any other Icefield city – calm and content, unaware of the disaster which approached them. Looks could be deceiving.

Perched lightly upon the peak of a church, Ruin watched the streets as they came to life. He watched them through narrowed eyes, analysing. There were gestures of nervousness among the people today. Furtive glances, anxious whispers, the tendency to travel in packs from one place to the next. Those who were alone practically ran to their destinations. All eyes were out for the familiar dark hair and glistening blade of the treacherous temptress. That was how it should be. Fear was a marvellous tool. It was the only way for the civilians to survive what was coming to them.

Straightening up, he turned on one heel and ran back over the roof, to the back of the church. The druid’s step never once faltered. Running on rooftops was ten times as simple as leaping freely from one tree branch to another. He flung himself off of the church without hesitation, seeming to glide across the space between church and Guildhome. He touched down upon the stone shingles and took off again, deep green cloak fluttering as he ran. There was a meeting of the Guild today. He was already late.
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William stood in the great front hall of Guildhome, hands on his armoured hips. He waited in stern silence for the few remaining members of the Guild to gather. Their ranks had decreased drastically in recent months, but the few who remained were unfalteringly loyal. Usually. This morning, apparently, they had decided not to appear on time.

He huffed angrily and crossed his arms, casting his eyes towards the dorm-space. Absently he wondered if any of them had stayed here tonight, or if they had taken to the streets and the taverns. He found it disgraceful, how much time they all spent drinking, whoring, gambling. The bard, at least, made a respectable living through those venues. He still partied far too much for the liking of the Silver Knight.

Soft footsteps at his back announced the arrival of the druid. William spun, glaring at the only other remaining member of the Founding Four.
“You’re late!” he growled. “How can we expect our members to arrive on time if their leaders do not?”

Ruin scoffed quietly and shook his cowl off his head, baring his soft brown curls.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he murmured in disdain. “We both know that I have never been a leader here.”

“You started the Guild,” William retorted. “The whole damned thing was your idea.”

“And that was all it was. An idea. Daedra and Krista gave it life.” Ruin sighed and followed William’s furtive glance towards the door. “Has Thauvin been in today?”

“I haven’t seen him, no,” William muttered. “Probably sleeping off the night.”

“Be nice, sir Knight,” Ruin chastised quietly.

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#, as written by Cypher
Meanwhile, in the City...

Taverns were, to Thauvin, a small slice of heaven on Tane. For just a penny, you had a warm bed; for a few more, you had a warm meal. And, if you played your cards right, for no pennies there was a woman who would share that meal and that bed with you for the night. If you were a bard, sometimes everything came free; in especially exceptional cases, the tavern paid you to stay with them.

Take the deal that Thauvin had at the moment, for example. At a tavern in the upper-class part of the city, a place called the Red Steer Inn; he had just offered to take the stage for a night. Well, 'offered' wasn't the correct term. The man that they had hired to play the night was a slouching brute of a singer with no talent for music; he couldn't carry a tune in a bucket and didn't plan to improve any, by the looks of him. Thauvin, well into his drink, was hurling insults at the player with the rest of the tavern crowd when the man, also deep in the bottle, had called himself Eillken. Thauvin was deeply offended by this claim, and took to the stage to defend the honor of his people... By bodily hurling the man off the stage, plucking his lute from his stool and launching into one of his own tunes, an old Eillken drinking song called "The Battered Mare's Ballad"; peppered with the kind of obvious innuendo and crude, sexual humor that got bar crowds laughing to the point of tears.

After that song was over he led the crowd in a few more traditional lays, then tossed the man's lute into the crowd and clambered--well, lurched would be a more proper description--off the stage and back to his seat. Within minutes, the tavern keeper was after him, offering him... Something or other; Thauvin was really too drunk to care. He could be offering the life of his third cousin and the bard would have gladly signed the contract without a second thought. Luckiliy; it was not a binding marriage agreement (Thauvin had already had that experience a few times too many), but an agreement to play twice a week at the Steer in exchange for free drinks and a bed. Thauvin was impressed with the deal; he had to say that the room was cozier and better outfitted than his own one at the guild hall--not that he would admit that to anyone there. But the guild was his home, so he turned down the offer of room and board and merely requested drinks and a ten-sovereign-per-performance fee, and the bed for one night (he was very drunk).

That following morning Thauvin found himself assailed by three large men in an alley as he was leaving the Red Steer; 'associates' of the previous night's entertainer who picked entirely the wrong fight. Three broken faces later and an incredibly hung-over Thauvin was stumbling up the steps to the Guildhall. Once inside, he found himself late to a meeting he didn't remember he was supposed to attend; dressed in last night's clothes and with a bruise over his left eye, his knuckles scuffed from the fight.

"Ah... Gentlemen." Thauvin smiled charmingly and gave a tiny, curt, half-hearted bow, ignoring the pain in his ribs ("That big one had a mean left hook," his inner voice cooed) before straightening up and fixing William in his gaze. "Sorry about that, I was... Presented with an offer I could not refuse, dear Ser William."

He looked over and noted his friend Ruin standing nearby. He smiled and gave a small salute. "And here I expected you would be up on the roof, my friend. Or is Guild business more important than your daily chats with the wind?" Thauvin flashed a toothy grin at the druid and pulled himself back up to his full height, straightening his clothes slightly.

"Well then, something important is afoot. What's this business you're on about, William? A new contract come in? Something about... Her?" Thauvin's Adam's apple bobbed. He didn't like mentioning Krista; the rogue Founder was something of a soft spot amongst the remaining two living leaders of the Stonetree Guild, and Thauvin wasn't going to rip open that wound just yet.

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William glanced around with some displeasure at Thauvin's entry. His eyes narrowed slightly, detecting in the space of an instant the almost uncertain gait of a hungover man. The Knight's disdain for alcohol was no great secret, not even a minor one, and it came through clearly on his face as he watched the bard stumbling about like a common town drunkard. Thauvin was a member of the Stonetree Guild. He should act with much more dignity, greater honor. All the members should - especially that druid. Ruin was always sneaking about, skulking in the shadows, never facing conflicts head-on. Even when the time came to take a life he did so from the shadows, generally with a poisoned knife and a spell of concealment.

Of course, Thauvin stood in sharp contrast with the dishonorable druid assassin he called a friend. Thauvin was almost too noticeable. A gypsy, as William called him, he made a point of being seen. Showing off. No modesty, no reservation, no honor there. Why was he so completely surrounded by the polar opposites of his ideals?!

"Ah... Gentlemen." Thauvin smiled charmingly and gave a tiny, curt, half-hearted bow, ignoring the pain in his ribs ("That big one had a mean left hook," his inner voice cooed) before straightening up and fixing William in his gaze. "Sorry about that, I was... Presented with an offer I could not refuse, dear Ser William."

William twitched slightly, but did not deign to respond to the bard. Ruin's reception of Thauvin was entirely different. He responded to his friend's words with a quiet smile, quite unlike the usual expressionless mask he displayed to the rest of the Guild. Even to William, with whom he had grown up on the streets of Stonetree, Ruin barely offered a twitch of the lip, and he never laughed. Thauvin could pull a chuckle out of the impersonable druid at the drop of a hat.

He looked over and noted his friend Ruin standing nearby. He smiled and gave a small salute. "And here I expected you would be up on the roof, my friend. Or is Guild business more important than your daily chats with the wind?" Thauvin flashed a toothy grin at the druid and pulled himself back up to his full height, straightening his clothes slightly.

Ruin blew a breath of air through his nose, amused by Thauvin's words. He let his eyes flicker to the ground at the barely perceptible laughter. These were the most extreme signs of enjoyment he gave, ever if he could help it. Ruin preferred his feelings to remain a mystery to the people around him. It gave him the upper hand. Only with Thauvin did he relax so much that he could forget himself and reach amusement.

"I was there only moments ago," he answered, raising one hand to one of the dozen or so leather pouches hanging from his belt. Dexterous fingers vanished into the hide pocket. "You were not the only man to arrive late at this meeting." Carefully, he produced a small pinch of dried leaves. These, he offered to Thauvin, pinched between his long hands. "For the headache."

William snorted at that, shaking his head. He had stated on multiple occasions that offering aid to those suffering from hangovers only encouraged their nightly capers. Ruin had very pointedly ignored his advice.

"Well then, something important is afoot. What's this business you're on about, William? A new contract come in? Something about... Her?" Thauvin's Adam's apple bobbed. He didn't like mentioning Krista; the rogue Founder was something of a soft spot amongst the remaining two living leaders of the Stonetree Guild, and Thauvin wasn't going to rip open that wound just yet.

Indeed, both Ruin and William flinched slightly at the mention of their dear 'sister'. It was Ruin, not so easily affected by his emotions, who answered first.
"There is news to the West, near Eagleview," he answered in a steady voice which offered no hint of his internal turmoil. "Strange deaths. Bloody deaths. They have asked the Guild to investigate."

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#, as written by Cypher
At the mention of 'strange and bloody deaths', Thauvin's face grew grim. Strange and bloody was Krista's modus operandi; or, at least, that's what her reputation led him to believe. The veteran guildsmen, her mission reports--anatomically correct and painfully detailed, down to the very last drop of blood and severed digit--even what little he'd managed to pull from Ruin told the bard that where-ever Krista went, there was a swath of bodies a score wide in her wake.

Poor Eagleview.

Poor Thauvin.

Neither of them had any idea what was up ahead for them.

For the moment, the bard put on a brave face, hiding the rolling inner thoughts of blood, fire, death, and the general unpleasantness associated with a bloodbath (not the least of which being getting the stains out of his clothes) as he gnawed the herbs Ruin had provided for him. The leaves and roots didn't assist with the groggy surliness provided by the hangover and subsequent beating, but he could feel the ache in his head and the ache in his ribs start to subside as the medicine infiltrated into his system, slowly at first, then more quickly. He pulled himself languidly to his full height, his back and shoulders popping as they settled into their good and proper locations on his body. He rested one hand, absently, at the pommel of his broadsword.

"Any witnesses? Any living witnesses?" Thauvin's quick amendment was directed more towards William than Ruin. Although necromancy and communing with spirits was just as useful and legitimate a tool as any other discipline of magic--healing, for example, or hucking fireballs at unfortunate goblins--they were generally associated with the 'darker' edges of society. Darker being the places that meddled with the fabric of the universe; bending time, space, even the immutable laws of life and death to the will of the wielder.

"I shall handle this personally, as that Strykar fellow is nowhere to be found," The bard said steadily, "Although I would like for at least two guildsmen to join me in this venture. If this is indeed... Her doing, then I would like to take no chances. Also, as this is official Guild business, it would do well for our sullied reputation to make a show of force to the outlying communities; perhaps prove to them that, regardless of the threat, the Guild will be at their back?" Thauvin cocked a single eyebrow, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "Either way," he added, "I will be prepared to leave within the hour. I trust I will be allowed to requisition a horse from the stables; but failing that I can travel by cart."

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"There were three witnesses," William answered Thauvin. His voice was flat, his face grim. He stood with his arms crossed, seeming to lean into the great sword strapped across his back, as though the thing could hold him up. He relied far too heavily upon Starbright, Ruin thought with some anxiety. No versatility, no flexibility. If something broke, or worse, stole that sword, William would be without a weapon he trusted. All but helpless.

"Were," Ruin repeated, choosing not to comment on the knight's lack of a secondary reinforcement. That was what Ruin was there for.

William nodded in agreement. "Over the last few days, all three of them have gone missing. The first turned up dead less than twenty four hours ago."

"Which is when they called us," Ruin murmured. He turned his deep, velvet-brown eyes on his friend, leaving no room for escape. Thauvin would listen to him, and listen to him well. "The signs of her presence are unmistakable. Which is why the pair of us will be going with you."

"Ruin-" William started to object, but the druid turned his piercing gaze on the knight. William stumbled over his own tongue and clamped his jaws shut.

"I am not offering a choice here," he told William flatly. It was times like these when the rest of the Guild could clearly see who was really in charge here. Though more often than not he seemed not to be paying attention, when Ruin wanted something done, it was done precisely the way he wanted it. No questions asked. No mistakes. William shuddered, recalling the last person who had made a mistake, bringing Ruin the wrong herb from his stores. It had nearly cost a wounded hunter his life. When lives were at stake, Ruin became truly unforgiving. William could still hear the offender's screams in the face of Ruin's temper. What that herb had made the man see, William had no idea. He had no intention of finding out, either.

"Ruin, we can not all go-" William objected without any real force.

"Of course we can," Ruin cut him off. "And we will." He drew himself up so that he, tiny as he was, stood at the height of William's broad, plated chest. It did not matter. William backed down a step. "Daedra is already dead, William. We are all that is left to face her, and Thauvin would not stand a chance on his own." Ruin took no time to be delicate about the matter. It was a simple statement of fact. Sent alone to face the crazed mercenary, Thauvin would be dead by morning. Ruin would not have that. "Gather your things and have the stable-boy saddle the horses. We leave in one hour."

William started to object again, but a muscle jumped as Ruin tightened his jaw. Long fingers strayed almost absentmindedly to the druid's herb sacks. William folded himself crisply in half, bowing to Ruin's better judgment, and hurried from Guildhome. Only then did Ruin release his stance, sighing and running a hand through his soft brown hair. He turned to face Thauvin.

"When will these people learn?" he muttered despairingly. "Come, friend. I would speak with you a moment."

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#, as written by Cypher
Thauvin stood by silently as Ruin and William went back and forth. The bard was always uneasy at moments like this; the Guild had always been happy and jovial around each-other before now, but with Daedra's demise and Krista's... Departure, Ruin and William spent an unreasonable amount of time fighting back and forth nowadays. The guild's formerly stable hierarchy was now prone to acting out against itself. The whole affair was quite tiresome to Thauvin, but he would never bring it up to anyone. It wasn't his place to meddle in the affairs of the grieving, and he supposed that Ruin and William's emotions were high at the moment for perfectly acceptable reasons.

So for the moment he stood by and waited as Ruin and William battled over the party heading to Eagleview. When William bowed and retreated, Thauvin let out a held breath, removing his hand from the pommel of his sword. It was as though a great tension had left the room, and at that moment Thauvin felt a great deal of stress land upon his shoulders. Nevertheless, when Ruin requested his presence, the bard threw up a brave face. It was one of the many advantages to having spent the majority of his life acting prior to having come to the Guild. When Ruin started walking, Thauvin followed.

His friend being a bit shorter than him, Thauvin easily managed to keep pace with the druid, reading his sense of despair and worry like an open book. Being able to understand anyone's emotions through the minutiae of their body language and tone of voice was something few people could brag of; even fewer so with Ruin. But Thauvin could do it, somehow. He sensed his friend's emotions like a cool breeze through the quiet halls of the Guildhome; quiet like a priory, quiet like a crypt.

"William is set in his ways; you cannot expect him to change now, old friend," Thauvin said, putting a firm, calloused hand on Ruin's shoulder. "What is it you wanted to talk about?" A moment passed. "Also, I know William will disapprove, but I would suggest finding a shaman or necromancer for this mission. Returning the dead is... Tasteless, but perhaps with luck, we could manage to glean some information from them before sending them back to un-life." His face was calm despite the turmoil bubbling beneath.

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Character Portrait: Strykar Wolfswift

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#, as written by Yashie
T'was a bright day and the thoroughfare was quite busy with common-folk as men and women went on their own business. The crowd, however, seemed thicker than normal outside the Red Steer Inn. A group of men and women, warriors of a number of different races wended its way along in the general direction of the inn. They were quite boisterous; their voices rose above the general milling of the people -people who stopped to stare at this strange collection of warriors, mages and such like. And warriors, they seemed, fresh back from some job or the other as their travel-stained cloaks and their stained armor bore testimony. They seemed happy, carefree - maybe because of the considerable weight of their money-pouches (newly filled, of course)

The group was, as mentioned earlier, composed of a rather generously mixed collection of races and genders. There was a Kinderling too, laughing in grunts but otherwise quiet. There was a pair of elves, twins by their appearance. One was male and the other was a female, both with golden hair and wearing clothing of green but little other armor. There was a a stocky little dwarf with fiery red hair both on his head and his chin, the latter being braided and falling down to his knees. Deep in conversation with him was a man, wearing bulky armor and carrying what appeared to be a bastard-sword which was larger than normal. Bringing up the rear was a figure wearing a dark black cloak with a hood, nothing of his skin actually showed, he was completely shrouded. The figure didn't seem to be saying anything, just accompanying the fellowship.

The human pushed open the door to the Inn .. or slammed, to be exact. "And for the last time, my score was thirty-SIX orcs. Thirty-six, Master Longbeard! Not thirty and if the Shorty back there says otherwise, I shall tap him between the eyes with a cudgel", he said in with a comically wronged tone. 'Shorty" offered no argument, simply grunting once and shaking his head. "Oh really, young Strykar? I only counted 27, you know!" put in the elven maiden, batting her eyelashes in a travesty of coyness. Strykar shot her a withering glance and thumped his gauntleted fist on the wooden counter hard, saying in a loud voice, "Barkeep! Two flagons of your finest ale! And two Clearwaters for the elves, Segrac for Shorty here ... let's see... that's the lot! And be snappy about it!". The inn-keeper complied, bringing out the drinks before shooting the hooded figure a questioning glance. "Nay, Darky thar drinks nae eats wi' us. Darky be migh'y lonely", the dwarf answered to the unspoken question and received a sharp rap on the top of the head from 'Darky' 's walking-staff.

Strykar stuck his hand into his money-pouch and withdrew from it several shining gold pieces, slamming them down on the counter. "The next round's on me, good men !" he declared to the inn at large before heading over to an empty table with his drink and his companions, sitting down heavily. At this point the hooded figure left the Inn. The rest of the company, however, proceeded to discuss things quite boisterously, laughing and generally causing a ruckus.

After a while, of course, the cups had run dry and one by one the company took their leave and went their separate ways. Strykar shared a parting word with each of them, which in the case of the dwarf was "By Furogu's beard, Laddie, dae'na' fo'get ol' Longbeard if ye find yerself a job wha' takes ye intae them dark caves!" After promising that he would not, Strykar went up to the bar again and asked for some bread and meat, paying once more in shiny gold coins. Clearly he had just been paid, presumably after completing some task or job. As the food was being brought, he made some not-so-discreet enquiries about the Stonetree Guild. After a few minutes of such gossip, he sat down at the table with his plate and began eating.

Soon the plate was clean and his hunger was sated. He pulled a small scrap of parchment from his money-pouch and perused it carefully. Upon it he had written the details of his next job. The Stonetree Guild were offering to hire him in the tracking down and the bringing to justice of one Krista ... He knew her from before and she knew him. Of course, He didn't believe she remembered him ... he was just another notch on her bedpost, so to speak. Strykar tried not to make jobs personal, and this job would pay handsomely and was honest work, as far as he could see. Rising and thanking the Innkeeper, he exited and made his way towards the Guild's Hall.

And from there he was redirected towards the stables and told to meet one William. Of course, everyone knew that name atleast in passing. Unsheathing his sword, Strykar walked into the Stables, quite apprehensive of meeting with the other man. "Hello?"

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Ruin huffed softly and rolled his eyes. As fond as he was of his childhood friend, William's proud and stubborn ways bothered him to no end. Ruin prided himself on his flexibility - in most situations - and he could not imagine surviving without the ability to adapt. Someone like William... was vulnerable. Strong as he was with his honor in place, as soon as something threatened that honor, as soon as he betrayed it, the Knight would crumble. Go mad, more than likely. The Guild could not afford that, not right now. And neither could Ruin. He needed his oldest friend there, much as he hated to admit it. With Daedra and Krista gone, the two in the little Founder Family with which Ruin had been closest... William and Thauvin were really all that the misunderstood druid had left. As much as he loved Thauvin, William had still known him longer.

He continued, nevertheless, without broaching the subject aloud. If there was anything he did not wish to discuss, it was his Guildhome brethren.

"I agree," Ruin murmured as he lead the way down a stone corridor towards his own personal rooms, more a set of laboratories than actual quarters. "A necromancer will likely be useful. Especially if... Krista is responsible." Her name burned his tongue coming out. It was all he could not to stammer over it. "I will see what we can find. There are not many left in the world, now, who would trust the word of a Stonetree Founder."

Shaking back his soft brown hair, Ruin paused before his door and slipped a key from one of his dozens of pouches. He unlocked the door, led Thauvin inside, and disappeared almost immediately into the depths of the herb shelves and potted plants he kept there. Ruin had some of the largest quarters in the entirety of Guildhome, the only exception being the communal dormitories supplied to guild members staying the night. Perhaps ten square feet had been portioned off for actual lrest. The rest was filled to bursting with his druidic life.

"We will need potions," Ruin observed, his voice floating out from among the shelves. Occasionally he could be seen as no more than a flicker of dark green cloak. "Is there anything in particular you think you may require?"

He appeared suddenly, seeming to come out of nowhere with a series of vials in his hands. He passed three of them to Thauvin.
"We'll definitely need this," he murmured, his eyes rather dark. "Krista... always favored a certain poison I discovered when we were young. I'm afraid I taught her how to make it, before she..." he swallowed his words and ploughed on. "Anyways, this is the antidote."
______________________________________________________________

William heard the ring of an unsheathed sword before he heard the voice. His hand leapt to the weapon at his shoulder, and he turned, chain jingling faintly. Even dressed down for the calmer time spent at Guildhome, he was never found out of armor. It was rumored that the Silver Knight slept in armor. Ridiculous, of course, but a good rumor to keep around. It deterred people from attempting to assassinate him.

This, apparently, was no assassination attempt. He relaxed when he saw the stranger, let his hand fall from his blade. Had he not looked before he leapt, one swing from that lethal weapon would have cleaved this newcomer in two. William really could not afford to be losing potential soldiers that way...

"Hail, stranger," William called in the traditional greeting of the knights, raising one gloved hand in salute. "What brings you to Guildhome?"

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Character Portrait: William Character Portrait: Strykar Wolfswift

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#, as written by Yashie
Strykar raised his sword in some manner of a life-preservation instinct when the other man reaches for his own sword, but passed it off as a salute executed with the hilt of the sword directly before his face. "Greetings!" Re-sheathing his sword he bowed deeply. "I am Strykar Wolfswift, of the Wolfswift mercenary clan. I'm here about a job? Apparently this ... Lady Krista ran rogue, I am given to understand and needs .. ah, eliminating?"

He felt it best to keep to himself the fact that he had already known .. for just a day .. Krista. It didn't need telling. He stuck his gauntleted fist into the large leather pack hanging at his waist and drew out a battered and bloodstained scroll which he presented to William. "My References. This one's from the Wolfswift Clan, note the crest at the bottom, authentic. And this ..." He reached into the pouch again, pulling out a small folded square of vellum. " .. is from my most recent job. Orc extermination ... messy business." After handing this last to William as well, he took two steps back and waited.


"My rates are low, my worth is good and I'm hireable, Sir. What say you?"

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Character Portrait: Ruin Character Portrait: Thauvin Longstrider

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#, as written by Cypher
Thauvin was immediately assaulted full-force with the smell of Ruin's chambers. Even on slow days, it smelled like a forest glen had crashed into an herbalist's shop and a professional kitchen. When Ruin was in the midst of one of his druidic rituals, the entire Guildhall could stink with his poultices and mixtures, especially if they were burnt or generally just went wrong. Thauvin recalled one occasion when he had used a few doses of snakeroot that had gone just a bit over the hill and were no longer usable. Thauvin usually considered the druid infallible when making his wondrous concoctions, but that didn't mean that he would ever live down the day that the thatch roof of the Guildhall had caught fire when Ruin's alembic had spat fire into the rafters and nearly burned the place to the ground.

The thought brought a chuckle to the bard's lips, but he choked it back. He was an actor first and foremost, and he was an expert at keeping his poker face when necessary.

"I cannot think of anything more than the usual load of health poultices, painkillers, injury kits, et cetera..." Thauvin scratched his chin briefly, then--"Actually. So long as you're thinking about making potions... Failing the necromancer, we may need a truth serum. If she is truly at work here; she may have placed a charm on her victims, or at the very least scared them into not talking." The bard thought a moment longer, scratching his chin, and then finally shook his head.

"Nope, that's all." Then the antidotes came out. Thauvin eyed them warily, but then the moment passed and he placed the potions into his belt pouch. "Thank you, my friend." He added quickly, careful not to tread on the fact that Ruin had just mentioned the antidote he'd handed the bard was for a poison that Ruin had made himself, and then taught Krista to make. There was no place for such a thing.

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Ruin looked up at Thauvin, unblinking, unflinching. He met his friend’s eyes squarely, gave the bard no choice of whether or not he was going to return the gaze. This was not a matter which could be avoided.

“Pray to whatever god you believe in that she is not involved,” Ruin whispered, tucking his own bottle of the antidote into a small pouch at his waist. “If she is…” He chose not to finish that sentence. Thauvin had met Krista before – even prior to her madness, she could have taken most of the Guild down easily. At once.

This was not going to be an easy fight.

Taking a deep breath, Ruin turned his eyes away from Thauvin. He pivoted on one heel and moved back in amongst his shelves and his pots. “I will work on the truth serum,” he told Thauvin evenly. “You go to see Harken Winterborne. He runs the mageware store . If you think we need a necromancer, it is Harken with whom you must speak.”

He disappeared then in a flurry of forest-green cloak, making it clear that this was not a request from a good friend, but an order from a superior guild member.
______________________________

William was silent for one tense moment, examining Strykar. He seemed strong enough, built up by battle and clearly experienced. William could tell that simply from the way his hand flew to his blade. But was he Guild-worthy. Never in the history of the Stonetree Guild had William had to make the choice to fight with outsiders – until now there had always been enough members in Guildhome to must the equivalent of a small army. Krista had seen to that…

William did not see that he had much choice anymore.

“I say that we will be glad to have you among us,” William answered in his rumbling voice. He lowered his hand from the hilt of his sword, offered it to William in greeting. “We are preparing to leave on a mission now. We’ll ride in a matter of hours. Is there anything you will need?”

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View All » Add Character » 7 Characters to follow in this universe

Character Portrait: Krista
Character Portrait: Ruin
Character Portrait: William
Character Portrait: Daedra
Character Portrait: Strykar Wolfswift
Character Portrait: Thauvin Longstrider
Character Portrait: Aldar Ekhart

Newest

Character Portrait: Aldar Ekhart
Aldar Ekhart

"I'll leave morality to those with the luxury to afford it."

Character Portrait: Thauvin Longstrider
Thauvin Longstrider

'Wage a war unrivaled', eh? I'd like to see you top the War of the Gods.

Character Portrait: Strykar Wolfswift
Strykar Wolfswift

"For Honor, Glory and some well-brewed ale!"

Character Portrait: Daedra
Daedra

There was a time that I believed in nothing.

Character Portrait: William
William

Honor is the driving force of all things good, and the bane of all things evil.

Character Portrait: Ruin
Ruin

I do not need to be understood to know that I am doing right in the world.

Character Portrait: Krista
Krista

I am not a creature of peace. Come, join me in my play. We will wage a war to be rivaled by no other.

Trending

Character Portrait: Ruin
Ruin

I do not need to be understood to know that I am doing right in the world.

Character Portrait: Daedra
Daedra

There was a time that I believed in nothing.

Character Portrait: Krista
Krista

I am not a creature of peace. Come, join me in my play. We will wage a war to be rivaled by no other.

Character Portrait: Strykar Wolfswift
Strykar Wolfswift

"For Honor, Glory and some well-brewed ale!"

Character Portrait: William
William

Honor is the driving force of all things good, and the bane of all things evil.

Character Portrait: Aldar Ekhart
Aldar Ekhart

"I'll leave morality to those with the luxury to afford it."

Character Portrait: Thauvin Longstrider
Thauvin Longstrider

'Wage a war unrivaled', eh? I'd like to see you top the War of the Gods.

Most Followed

Character Portrait: Thauvin Longstrider
Thauvin Longstrider

'Wage a war unrivaled', eh? I'd like to see you top the War of the Gods.

Character Portrait: Ruin
Ruin

I do not need to be understood to know that I am doing right in the world.

Character Portrait: Daedra
Daedra

There was a time that I believed in nothing.

Character Portrait: William
William

Honor is the driving force of all things good, and the bane of all things evil.

Character Portrait: Strykar Wolfswift
Strykar Wolfswift

"For Honor, Glory and some well-brewed ale!"

Character Portrait: Aldar Ekhart
Aldar Ekhart

"I'll leave morality to those with the luxury to afford it."

Character Portrait: Krista
Krista

I am not a creature of peace. Come, join me in my play. We will wage a war to be rivaled by no other.


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Most recent OOC posts in The Stonetree Guild

Re: The Stonetree Guild

That's fine; I'll be working progressively on my bio. I'll have it by tomorrow at nightfall, I imagine.

Re: The Stonetree Guild

READ THEM! THEY ARE AMAZING! and the writing improves as they go... the authors were still inexperienced when they started, I guess. >.<
Anyways, I will be slightly unavailable over the weekend. I will still check back, respond to PMs and OOCs, but I may not be able to approve characters, or finish William and Daedra's profiles. So... >.< Feel free to ask questions, and I'll be back in action Monday.

Re: The Stonetree Guild

And now I feel bad for not reading all of the Dragonlance books I kept in the attic... :\ Oh well. Just gives me something to do between Drive, Driven and the second book in the Kingkiller Chronicles.

Re: The Stonetree Guild

Yes, yes he did. I rather enjoyed that future...

Re: The Stonetree Guild

He became a god in one future lol. Good night

Re: The Stonetree Guild

Fizban is a god. Raistlin just WANTED to be. Fizban does not fit the category~ >.<
Raistlin is my ultimate... I don't even know. I love him. So much....

I have to go to sleep now, but I will be online to answer questions in the morning.

Re: The Stonetree Guild

Raist is pretty much the reason I got into Wizards in the first place lol. So much better than the others... except maybe Fizban. But Fizban is a class all on his own lol

Re: The Stonetree Guild

Sounds good, Cypher.


And Ozrick... you... are a Raistlin fan?
SO MANY POINTS YOU JUST GAINED.

Re: The Stonetree Guild

my bad, my bad... I got distracted as soon as you said Raistlin =^_^= lol

Re: The Stonetree Guild

Oh good. I never learned to play D&D; there was a group I was slated to join, but that is long ago, far away and practically... I'm off topic.

I'll have something by tomorrow evening. I'm tired tonight and I may be out with a friend for most of the day tomorrow but by the end of Memorial Day weekend I should have my bard ready to rock and roll.

Re: The Stonetree Guild

Please read the rules, Ozrick ;)

Re: The Stonetree Guild

Hey I'd like to reserve a spot... I'm feeling a wizard... but I DO have this sneaky little rouge with a talent for illusion magic and sleight-of-hand who's just itching to be used... decisions decisions lol

Re: The Stonetree Guild

The world is similar to Dungeons and Dragons - however, there will be no stats or die-rolls, except perhaps on my part to determine random monster encounters. This will be writing-central, and how your blows land will depend upon the quality of your roleplay.

Re: The Stonetree Guild

I want to roll up a bard character (I'm growing more fond of them of late) but I want to know if this is a D&D type RP. Because if it is, I'm going to have to kind of have you hold my hand through the learning process.

The Stonetree Guild

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