Announcements: Universe of the Month! » Finding Universes to Join (and making yours more visible!) » Guide To Universes On RPG » Starter Locations & Prompts for Newbies » RPG Chat — the official app » USERNAME CHANGES » Suggestions & Requests: THE MASTER THREAD »

Latest Discussions: Impending Pursuit Q&A » Eudaimonia » Loot! » Natural Kinds » I have a funny idea » Life in the 21st century. » Song of the Runes » Plato’s Beard » Clues » Nihilism » Strange Tales From Hadean » Art Gulag [ Come get this Commish! ] » Visibility of Private Universes & Profile Customisation » Presuppositionalism » Aphantasia » Skill Trees - Good, Bad & Ugly » In-Game Gods & Gameplay Impact » Cunningham's Law » The Tribalism of Religion » Lost Library »

Players Wanted: Looking For A New Partner » Hellboy characters » 18+ Writing Partner [Fantasy, Romance, Etc.] » 18+, Multi-Para to Novella Writers please! » Looking for roleplayers » Fun tale full of angels, demons, and humans » Looking for roleplayers » A Fairytale World in Need of Heroes & Villains! » Are You a Crime Addict? » Wuxia RP » Looking for roleplayers » New Realistic Roleplay - Small World Life ٩( ´・ш・)و » Mentors Wanted » MV Recruiting Drive: sci-fi players wanted! » Veilbrand: The Revolution » Gonna do this anyway. » Looking for Kamen Rider Players » Elysium » Looking for roleplayers for a dystopian past! » Revamping Fantasy Adventure RPG, need new players »

Euritea: The Sister Islands

The Euritean Sister Islands

0 INK

a part of Euritea: The Sister Islands, by Foreshadow.

None

Foreshadow holds sovereignty over The Euritean Sister Islands, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

238 readers have been here.

Setting

Default Location for Euritea: The Sister Islands
Create a Character Here »

The Euritean Sister Islands is a part of Euritea: The Sister Islands.

6 Characters Here

Jack O' Nine [0] "All the guns in the world, and I can't grab any of them."
Jeremiah Swift [0] Itinerant cartographer and adventurer
Claire Magdalena [0] "Oh, I would shoot you if it weren't such an uncivilized response."
Johnathan Marmonte [0] Long time assistant of the Lord of Midi.
Adarius Vilis [0] ...No that's okay- I don't drink...
Marshall D. [0] "What do you mean I can't just write 'D' in my papers?! It's my freaking name!"

Start Character Here »


Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

"My lord, they've begun to arrive."
"Good. Wait a few more minutes, and then allow them entrance."
"Very well, sire."

***

Within the gates of the estate, you wait. There are others in the courtyard with you, but you do not know whether they are here for the same reason or another matter entirely. The guards who opened the main gate for you are still standing at their posts, remaining as still as statues like the other pair at the doorway to the mansion. The statue-like guards aside, the courtyard is lacking of decoration. Most of it is covered in cobblestone pathways with varying states of disuse and the occasional shrub or weed. It seems as if the mansion is the only thing with color among the cobblestone wasteland of the property.

One of the mansion doors swings open, and a well-dressed gentleman appears in its frame, beckoning you and the others forth. The inside of the mansion, contrary to external appearances, is covered in various styles of decor. Ahead of you are two curved stairways that lead to a second level and balcony, their railings polished and smooth. The second level railing is similarly well-cared for, with the addition of elaborate arches beneath the hand bar. A large rug situated in the center of the room, woven of dark shades of red, brown, and yellow, but most of it is gray. The corner tassels are a soft yellow, and the rug edges are scarlet. The doors at first seem to line every open space on the wall, but after a few moments that feeling dissipated.

The man who held the door for you to enter now stands next to one of the staircases, waiting. Servants walk between rooms without worrying about interrupting, carrying bundles of bread, thin but long wooden boxes, and other packages. After a few more servants pass you, the man speaks up.

"Our host will be here shortly. You may hang your coats on the hooks behind you if you wish."

((Take this time to observe the other player characters in the room with you and express whatever thoughts your character may be having at this moment. Once everyone has posted, we'll continue.))

Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Frene
Her hair was obscuring her view. Claire huffed a breath at the strands, but they were persistent in obscuring her view of the lavish and rich styles in the mansion. After tucking the hair behind her ear, she continued to admire the glossily polished wood furniture and the colors of the decor. An awed and impressed smile was beginning to form on her lips as she studied the room. Her eyes soon caught sight of the other guests and she swallowed her smile.

Oh, yes, this is a rather serious manner she reminded herself. The gravity of the situation was what provoked her to dress more fashionable for the visit and Claire was becoming increasingly glad in her choice even if she was uncomfortable. Her cream colored dress was simple in its elegance without a lot of fuss to deal with; however, Claire often spared a glance to make sure it was in proper order.

The other guests were men; one appeared to be quite the fancy dandy in his black dress shoes and clean white gloves, and the other was of a more relaxed cut. The variations of character made this situation even more intriguing. What could be the use of such an idiosyncratic group.

Staring is rather rude... she thought. Claire offered a tiny smile as a small apology to the two men.

Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Adarius was hardly what anyone would call comfortable. While unease was a tad too strong of a word, awkward would probably fit just fine. Somewhere in Adarius's past, vague memories of fancy ballrooms and marble staircases flickered unsteadily, there was a time in his early childhood when his parents dragged him around to such high-class social gatherings, that was before his mother fell ill and most of the family funds were re-directed to new-fangled and experimental medical treatments, and before he started his long and destructive spiral. It had been at least a decade since Adarius had stepped foot on the grounds of such an extravagant place as this mansion.

As far as his current re-cooperative state went, any of the money his patents had left him and he hadn't squandered went to the church. In the technical sense, the clothes he was currently wearing weren't his own, but church issued. The jacket was more of a uniform than an evening piece. That being said, Adarius hardly felt underdressed for the occasion.

Finally taking a moment to glance about, and cease fidgeting with buttons, hair, scuffs on his shoes, and any other possible distractions, he noticed the other figures in the room. Everyone appeared to be in their twenties, no one notable young or old, and everyone seemed quite as bewildered as himself- if hiding it better to varying degrees. Taking a last glance, Adarius sought to catch someone’s eye before returning to his social seclusion.

Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Marshall looked around in the room they'd been placed in. It wasn't small... not near small anyways, and the decorations on the walls were exotic and intriguing. Especially one picture of a naked woman wandering out into the ocean, just as the sun goes down, took his attention more than once. The art and decorations were so many and so different, that his eyes never became tired.
Oh well, his eyes did get tired, and he looked around the room for a second, just to notice the others. The first one he looked at was the woman, she had long red hair, and wore a cream coloured dress. Very lady-like and yet it was a calm and modest colour of choice, not like most other women from his own hometown, whom all competed about being the "most colourful". The woman gave Marshall and the other male a smile, and without as much as a movement in his facial expression, Marshall brought up his hand and waved, before she turned away. When she looked away, Marshall couldn't help but feeling hot in his chins, so he looked around the room and yet again saw the picture of the naked woman, which only made it worse.

In a last attempt to calm his burning cheeks, he looked over at the other male, just to see what he looks like.
Clearly he was a gentleman of sorts, nicely dressed. He had a nervous look about him, as though he wasn't sure what he was there for. Not that Marshall knew himself. Surely the aristocrat who live in the mansion would like to arrange a race, and the woman was his niece or something, who surely had some kind of affection for social interaction and entertainment. The other male must of course be an investor, the one who should arrange things... and Marshall himself was going to drive. And hopefully win of course.
Marshall of course caught the other male's eyes, and stood there, looking quizically into them for a moment, then looked away.

"So..." Marshall said out loud. "How come that a gentleman and a beautiful young lady have come here on this day?" Marshall asked out into the room, seeking not to get eye conttact with any of them. "Is this going to be some kind of arrangement of your wedding or..?" Marshall said, twiddling his thumbs in the akward silent moment that of course came after such a question.

Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Frene
Claire attempted to suppress her laugh to gentleness.

"I...", she glanced at the other man the question was poised at. "Ah, it's certainly not for my wedding. And typically, one isn't presented with a sum of coin as an invitation to a wedding. Such bribery is rather unconventional," she gave a slightly amused to smile to the predicament.

As she finished speaking, Claire's eyes narrowed upon the man that addressed the room. His question showed that he did not know what was occurring here and most likely held no idea as to his presence here either. The mutual confusion Claire had with these men was reassuring, but disturbing. She felt part of a collection of unawareness decorating this rich mansion and their purpose would come soon carried on the words of their host. But in the meantime...Claire was here the air that was quiet and damp with awkwardness. No one was comfortable; cloth shuffled with soft noises and thumbs twiddled and eyes avoided each other and the painted naked woman unabashedly made everything feel embarrassing.

Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

The corner of Johnathan's mouth twitched as he repressed a smile in response to Marshall's question. He maintained his position by the stairs, examining each of the guests from afar. There seemed to be fewer than expected, though others may soon arrive. Johnathan was certain that Lord Samuel would command him to carry out the mission, regardless of numbers. This was always the case with Samuel, who often rejected any request of rearrangements or cancellations. Samuel believed everyone was disposable, even himself, and that those who do not take advantage of others were puppets for those they refused to use. Johnathan agreed with this philosophy and used it to make many of his decisions.

A door on the second level swung open and a man in a suit stepped out onto the indoor balcony. He held a pipe in his left hand and a wine glass in his right, with most of his fingers adorned with jeweled rings. His blonde hair was combed back and went down to back of his neck, where it was tied into a small knot. As he looked down at the three candidates who had shown up, his hazel eyes seemed to pierce each individual and locate every one of their faults. Johnathan, who still stood at the bottom of one of the stairways, knew that he was looking for as many ways to utilize them as possible. What would follow in the next few moments as well as the next few days was the same process that Johnathan himself had endured for the sake of being hired.

"Good afternoon, lady and gentlemen. I presume that Johnathan hasn't spoiled any of my story, has he?" Samuel chuckled, taking a puff on his pipe. "Of course he didn't. I wouldn't have hired him if that was the case."

Samuel began walking down the stairway Johnathan stood at, speaking as he did so. "As you are aware, I am a lord of Fraetes. My name is Samuel, son of Andrew, though the commoners slur it into 'Samuel Anderson'. I own this estate as well as the city around it, and everyone in it. I own every brick, every pane of glass, and every automobile wheel. Here in Midi, I am God." Lord Samuel began pacing in front of the trio, taking the occasional sip of wine or puff of tobacco. After a few passes, he stopped before Claire.

"May I know the name of this lady who stands before me," Samuel asked, passing his pipe and glass to a nearby servant.

Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Frene
The lord's entrance was certainly grand, to say the least. Within his hands he held all representations of his wealth--the pipe, the clean glass, and the glittering jewels. He was rich and fine, but his eyes were very shrewd. Claire felt her eyebrow quickly flicker in surprise at his stare. The man certainly was aware of his affluence and he was making sure that his guests new it too. Part of his words were disgusting in his arrogance, but the other portion was admirable because what he spoke of was true. He was a lord and in Midi he was The Lord.

Claire turned her chin almost imperceptibly to the left to regard him. "I am Claire Magdalena, my lord." She dipped at her knees and tilted her head forward in a modified curtsy. Addressing him as her lord felt too servile for her, but it could be very likely that it was just enough to suit him. His speech of commoners and his stateliness encouraged her to suit the higher class; Claire learned the etiquette well enough, but she knew it wasn't ingrained in her and it wasn't her blood. Such mannerisms were as much a part of her flesh as the dress she was wearing. Adopting them was easy, but masking and burdening upon her. Being in the presence of Lord Samuel was going to erode her. Premonitions warned her that if she didn't relax she would want to run around like a savage at the end of the day.

Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Adarius was quite relived that it was in fact was not a wedding. Though, he assumed whoever would eventually take the red head would be a very lucky man indeed. Though, he had to admit, she did not given off the impression of being taken well.

Distracted by his own musings, and attempting to ignore the sounds of social awkwardness around him, Adarious was rather shocked when he became aware of their host entering. Only being alerted to the fact at the start of "Good afternoon,". With the sudden sound of a voice to rouse him, Adarious's head snapped up rather too quickly, and he felt his heels click. Whatever his arms and hands had being doing a second before, ceased, and they were firmly plastered to his sides by an unknown force. For a split second, he realized he wasn't breathing, but suddenly he felt his lungs exhaling, and the rest of his body relaxing with the rush of air.

Adarious has much the same reaction to breaking glass or a gun shot. This is as much to say that Adarious is severely jumpy, but also that the lord of Fraetes commands an audience.

As their host continued to speak and cross the room, Adarius hoped his speech would settle his nerves. That the man would reveal the benign reason for them being called upon and quickly dismiss them back home. This was not the case. As the lord of Fraetes went on unimpeded with his speech, Adarius, rather than feeling his heart beat return to normal, still felt his blood hammering in his temples. He was slowly reconciling with the fact that, what ever was going on here was serious, and that he had very little option now.

Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Samuel nodded and smiled as he took Claire's hand and lightly kissed it before stepping away. "The artistic firehead? I've heard much of you. I look forward to the coming days, and hope to see some of your sketches."

Johnathan nodded as Samuel finished his sentence, recalling the documents that had been handed to him by an old contact. According to the papers, she was quite the tomboy growing up, though Johnathan wasn't sure if that was still the case. Her time at school may have taken the boyishness out of her, but would that leave anything useful left? Johnathan assumed that her rifle skills were still in good shape, and that coupled with her artistic talents should allow her to be more useful than a mere woman.

Moving down the line, Samuel stopped at the youngest of the three and leaned in to examine him. Samuel's expression hinted at bewilderment, but that flicker of confusion soon gave way to a chuckle. He stepped back from the young man, almost bent over in laughter. After a few seconds, he resumed his lordly posture.

"I assume you're the prodigy? The famous pilot, the exemplary sailor, and skillful driver? Why, I doubted your existence when I looked over the documents they gave me. Now that you're standing before me, however, I can only doubt your actual skill. Please, I have forgotten your name despite remembering your papers, would you humble me with a reminder?"

Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Jack's boots were not meant to step on floor as prestigious as this. He left a trail of tiles, slightly scuffed and marred wherever he stepped and the man leading him through this mansion could not have been more distraught. Every single step Jack took was like a step on his very own soul, and he showed it in the terse way he talked while he walked.

"Well, now, being invited to meet with our Lord of Midi in person is a very prestigious event and you should feel honored." He faked a half-smile and Jack responded with more silence.

"What was the specific reason I was sent her?" Jack's hand went down to his money pocket, fondling the sack of coins he'd been given for his time.

"Well, I am in no way qualified to tell you that and if you want an answer you'll have to ask our Lord, Samuel, himself." Jack grunted in response and fell back into step, observing, admiring, and analyzing the area around him. He reckoned that if he tried to run and could make it here, the tables sitting on the side of the hall could be used as barricades to slow any pursuing guards for a few seconds. Then he could- "I've heard that you have a history with Kraggenheim, hmm?" Jack snapped out of his thoughts and grunted in response.

Soon, though not soon enough for the escort, Jack was led to the doors of the room he was apparently supposed to have been on time to and brought into the room. His eyes met those of everyone else in the room for a brief second as he scanned them over for danger, a red-head, what seemed to be a priest, a man who looked as if he was also from Kraggenheim, and a man standing next to the person Jack assumed had brought them here. If he was Samuel, the Lord of Midi, then he knew how to show it. Jack could recognize as he sweeped his eyes about the room, a Zeitbrennen made sculpture of Death, nude and broken.

The entire room, like the hallway he had come in seemed to be made to convey that this man not only had more money than you ever would, but that he had more money than you and everyone you would ever meet if they took their life's savings and bet it on the horse races. Jack suddenly felt like the sum in his pockets was a bit paltry.

Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

When the lord of Midi suddenly entered the room, and soon was upon Marshall, marshall panicked. Slightly.
Before speaking, Marshall made sure to bow down, paying his respects to the house lord. When he rose from his graceous bow, he had finally made up something to say.
"My lord. The name is Marshall Drellion. I see that the rumors have gone far and broad with my stories. Well sir, to be honest some of it is slightly, slightly untrue. I've never crossed Kraggenheim on a bicycle." He said, sending the lord a somewhat humorous grin.

Just then, the door was opened, and just there a mountain of a human person stood. One and a half man tall, and more hairy than he possibly should be.
Marshall was awestruck for a pair of seconds, before he regained his composure and finnished off his introduction with the lord of Midi.

"But I will make sure that I prove my worth to you milord." he finnished, eyes locked at the giant who had just stepped in at the doorway.
Is it even possible to be that big? Was all Marshall could think, as he bowed again to the nobleman.

Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Frene
She nodded to the Lord at the interest in her drawings. The words "the coming days" caught her attention. This was to be an enduring matter with much more in store, clearly. Samuel then went on to address the youngest among them. Claire couldn't help but to stand and smile at the discourse between the Lord and Marshall. She wanted to chuckle when Marshall grinned. Who could help it?

But because she dwelled in her quiet amusement, the arrival of the new guest was certainly startling. His stature and figure were certainly impressive. The man's body wasn't deformed looking; Claire could tell through her artistic pursuits that he was perfectly proportional. He was just so much taller and so much bigger that it was certainly daunting and intriguing. She wondered if at a later time she could steal sketches and studies of this man into her leather bound sketch book, a long with all the others. Since she wasn't being addressed directly, Claire settled to observing the conversation and the others. She took mental notes on the characteristics of their facial structures and body language.

Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Samuel only spared a glance towards the giant of a man before continuing down the line. He stood before the uniformed man who seemed the most nervous, taking care to bow slightly at the man's churchly outfit. Though Samuel himself was often in mutual disagreement with many ideas of common religion, some less well-known or "taboo" holy texts were often found on his bookshelves or desk. He believed that even the lies and impossible events in the books could provide inspiration to him, and often they did. Samuel's actions in regards to any book were never hostile, which caused tensions between him and the other lords of Fraetes, most of whom were religious and thus burned any book that contradicted their beliefs. Despite his atheism, Samuel respected holy men, as they were the few people who stood up for their beliefs.

He attempted to make eye contact with the man as he addressed him. "You must be Adarius Vilis, the man who conquered temptation. Are you not?"

Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Adrious forced himself to meet the man's, that lasted all of four seconds before he looked away again. Samuel's word were almost drowned by his own hamering blood . As Adarious tried to refocus, he was shocked and embarrassed to see this powerful man deferring to his uniform. In an attempted to fix this, Adarious fell fowards in a clumsy bow. He barley the question. "Uh-um, yes, sir- my lord. That would be me- I, uh." completely flustered, Adarious eventually shut up mumbling "my apologies..."

Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Samuel now faced the giant of a man who had entered the room. The man's identity was unmistakable to Samuel. After all, there are few giants on the islands, and even fewer were suggested to him, that is to say there was only one. His size caused difficulties when dealing equipment, but if he didn't already have things that were needed, it would be no issue getting them custom made.

"Jack O' Nine, I'm glad you could make it. You're just in time. This lady here is Claire, the young one is Marshall, and the last one there is Adarius. The gentleman by the stairs," Samuel said, while walking to stand under the balcony, "is my right-hand man, Johnathan Marmonte."

Samuel once again looked over the group. They were a band of unique individuals, to say the least: the tomboyish firehead; the automaniac prodigy; the man liberated of temptation by religion; the giant. While several other individuals were invited, they had either not arrived or had run off with Samuel's coin. They would have to be dealt with later, more important matters were at hand. Samuel needed to give an explanation or he'd have no one to carry out the work at hand.

"I assume my good friend Johnathan hasn't spoiled anything for the lot of you," Samuel began, smiling. "As you are all well aware, the Euritean Isles have prospered in an alliance of sorts that came as a surprise to many people when it was formed over a century ago. While none of the kingdoms of these islands are willing to break the peace for fear of the other two raining hell upon them, I can assure you this peace will not last long. In fact, some could say that we're already in a war."

Samuel paused, taking a moment to let the information sink into the party members. He was sure more of a background story would be necessary before he could tell them.

"Most of you come from Kraggenheim, so I'm sure you are not aware of the current situation in Draslan, our Eastern neighbor. You see, Draslan may be in an alliance with us, but they are at war as a people. Rebels have been attempting to take over small towns and military outposts, and have thus far failed. However, with each attempt, the rebel groups gain more people for their cause. The Draslan warlord is harsh and strict, trying to keep everything uniform and tightly regimented. Of course, if the rebellion is successful, terrible things may happen. For one, Draslan will be engulfed in civil war, and the alliance may be broken as Warlord Yuri blames the Fraeteans or Kraggen-folk."

"Now, my wording may cause you to think we're going to do something to stop the rebellion in Draslan. This is not the case. To be blunt, we started the rebellion."

The guards at the main doors turned the locks and stood before the oak rectangles at the final sentence. Samuel had expected at least one of the group to attempt to run and spread the information, but now they would be unable to do so. He turned and began walking up the stairs Johnathan stood by. He continued speaking as he walked.

"Yes, I'm sure you all enjoy the little alliance here. I'm sure you enjoy the privilege to travel between islands and experience new sights, sounds, smells, and tastes. I'm sure you all love having things change as cultures interact. This is precisely the problem, however. I'll let you think about how that is an issue and leave it at this," - Samuel stood on the balcony now - "We're inciting a war. You don't need to know why, only that it's for the good of the people of every nation. Every one of you is going to be an instrument of mine to do this, and every skill you have is a skill I will use. Whether you like it or not, you're my tools now. You'll be paid in full for your work, and I can assure you that there will be more time for explaining why I'm doing this when you're done."

Johnathan stepped towards the party, as he spoke for the second time in their company. "If you have any further questions about what is expected of you, I will be here to answer them." With those words, Samuel stepped back through the door he entered earlier.

((This post probably seems pretty lame, but I had to rewrite it quickly. The previous version was much better, in my opinion, but this should do. Time for your character to ask any questions they have.))

Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Marshall nodded slowly while the information sunk in. Somehow it made sense to him that the peace couldn't last. When he'd been in Draslan on one of his small trips, he'd felt that people expected something vile and evil of him. Back then he'd dismissed it as plain conservatives, but now it made a little more sense.
He looked at the others. How on earth could a pair of assorted elements like themselves start a war. Surely Marshall had seen crazed mobs of fans at some races, but people weren't ready to go to war for that. And the other people didn't seem to be any more able to start a war.

"Well, I have a single question. As it seems that it's too late to turn around and walk away from this illuminaty society, I'd like to know where we'll start." Marshall said. His eyes were the ones of one who was staring into the depths of hell, seeing his own demise approach. This was one of the things he lived for, the amazing thrill of something new. The chance to go beyond the capabilities of those before one self, and do something no one else have ever done.

"Oh, and by a second thought. How big is the payment that you are talking about?" Marshall grinned as he asked. If there was enough money, then he could settle down. Maybe get his own workshop. And then he'd be developing new and stronger machines. Going ever faster than it's predecessor.

Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Jack pulled his revolver from its holster, in one smooth motion he had it at his side, and it was an enormous thing made of gold and polished blackwood, more resembling a multi-chambered rifle than an average small arm. He hadn't pulled it threateningly, but when someone calls you his tool and then locks you in a room with two armed guards it never hurts to have a gun at your side."What's the-" Marshall spoke up and finished his sentence for him.

"Oh, and by a second thought. How big is the payment that you are talking about?"

That was all he cared about, the money. Of course, he'd never been to Draslan and the few bits and pieces he had heard of it painted nothing for his mind. He did see the money though, and he knew Samuel did not care about how much it cost him. He did not bother to downplay his wealth, but put it on lavish display for all to see and be intimidated by. It was working.

Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Frene
The idea of encouraging war was alarming to Claire. Something even more disturbing was to be a tool of Lord Samuel's. This did not suit her and her ambitions to be her own person, but the way out of Samuel's possession would be tricky. She felt like she was being trapped into this grand plan and it felt oppressive and overbearing. Her gut told her to leave, but the door was locked and guarded. She was a fly stuck on honey and if she were to struggle out she would probably end up breaking her wings.

So, this was something Claire would have to do. The pursuit and solitary concern for money Marshall and Jack had was slightly disgusting to her--but, how could it not be? Her family has always had enough. Their income was always just the right amount for her to be educated and to have her rifle skills become polished and smooth and not at all as sharp as they should be. She wanted to take her rifle and practice, become sharp and wicked and unrefined again. The better her aim, the quicker this would be done and figured out whether she went along with Samuel's plan for them or not.

After this pause of thought, Claire looked up at Johnathan and the rest of the men. She was interested in the response Johnathan would give and to wait for her own chance to ask questions.

Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Johnathan adjusted his suit and gloves while he pondered the best manner of addressing their questions. Their queries were the sort he expected, but nevertheless he needed a moment before he could answer. Marshall and Jack seemed to have accepted the fact that they no longer had as much free will as earlier, but Claire seemed concerned. Of course, Johnathan understood, at least a little. Freedom was the bread and water of art, something that Johnathan himself had pursued in the form of writing. To be ensnared and forced to do things against your will... Johnathan pitied Claire in a way, but at the same time he envied her.

"In a day's time, we will take a train to Anu and go to the airfield there. As for payment," Johnathan gestured around the mansion, "Well, to put it simply, you'll be capable of having more than you see here, if you spend correctly. It will be as if you were born into a noble family."

He shifted his jacket so that the grip of a revolver was plainly visible, directing his gaze at Jack. Several servants passed through the room once more, carrying even more bundles and boxes to the opposite of the mansion. Johnathan glanced between each party member once more, awaiting any further questions.

Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Frene
Claire looked at Johnathan directly. "What are we to do for that time? May we do as we like? except leave the grounds I presume." She gave a slightly wary glance around to the guarded door. "If at all possible, I would greatly enjoy practicing with my rifle."

If she were to be start a war, she was going to have to shoot and if she was going to shoot, Claire decided that she would shoot well. A slight fear danced in her mind that she didn't have that proficiency with her gun anymore, but her gut wanted to prove her wrong. Her gut told her that she wasn't just going to survive, but thrive in this situation.

Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

The woman Claire asked for training with her rifle!? A lady carrying a gun!? Unheard of! Ladies were supposed to act nicely, dress up and be socialites? Right?
Oh well, she seemed to like guns, and for some reason that made Marshall grab for his own gun. Of course he didn't get anything, he'd left it in his car outside.
"If she's going to get her rifle, could you then get someone to fetch my baby in here?" Marshall inquired, only just then realising that he'd called his car; his baby.
What a weird notion to call a dead object like his car, such a thing. But of course, it could go back to the fact that he spent so much time making sure that it was in the very best condition. You never know when people look at your car, and if they judge you on it, then it better be in a nice condition.

"But uhmmm... I mean. My car." Marshall then tried to erase the silly fact. His voice somwhat a mixture of failure and defeat.
How could he run around making himself seem like some idiot who is fanatically idolizing his own car!?
Er... of course he wasn't that fanatic about it? Of course, we can all hope so.

Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

"Of course. Access to all areas of the grounds will be available for the use of the party. There is a small firing range of sorts behind the manor. As for your effects, Marshall, you are free to get them from your vehicle yourself. Our guards are competent enough that I don't need to worry about you attempting escape. After all, what kind of man who is ready to flee asks of his reward?"

Johnathan smiled slightly, before waving a servant over. He leaned over and spoke quietly, asking if she could "fetch some drinks, please." The servant smiled, nodding, and walked off briskly to carry out Johnathan's orders. He resumed his straight posture and addressed the group once more. "Refreshments will be available shortly. If there are no more questions, I have things I must tend to. The first floor is available for you to explore, but the second level is off limits for the moment. The doorways by the stairs lead to a hallway with doors to the subterranean gallery, the kitchen, and the dining room. First right, first left, and second right, respectively. The door on the western side of the room - my right - leads to the cobblestone gardens. They're bare, but if you'd like to look at some very interesting moss, you're welcome. The eastern door leads to an area where we are currently using for loading. The doors on the northern walls - near the stairs - lead to bedrooms, offices, and small libraries. If a door is closed - other than those connected to the main room, of course - leave it so. Good day."

Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Jack nodded at Jonathon and immediately headed back to the shooting range. It saddened him, or disappointed him, that there were no horses here since he really needed to work on his riding shot. He passed through halls lined with Sculptures and made of art. Murals lined the roof, epic battles and epic romances, epic epics that told epic tales of epic men and epic women doing epic things. He followed the hallway of stories down, realizing that the stories it told were steadily increasing in barbarity as he went down. Then the door, then the range.

He stepped into a booth, and began firing. The bullets were large, almost an inch thick, almost two long. They tore through the straw and paper as if they were.... straw and paper.

Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Frene
Claire waited quietly and waiting for the servant to return with the drinks. The man of a giant scale had already left and Claire followed his large footsteps with her eyes as he left. When the servant returned, she smiled gratefully and took a glass of water. She asked if she could be shown to where her possessions were being stored; the servant nodded and Claire followed after. As she absentmindedly followed, Claire admired the decor and art in the hallways. Some were intriguing in subject, others in technique. When they found her possessions, Claire took her rifle and its holster that had straps that could be altered to sling across her back or on a horse's saddle. She adjusted it on her back and took her sketchbook and pencil. Being satisfied that the rest of her materials would be well taken care of, she left them in the hands of the servant.

She took a few sips of the water and then made her way back to the room she departed from. From there, she was able to remember the hallway Jack took and meandered down it. The art was grand and epic portrayals of old tales and long forgotten souls. As she took the steps further and further towards the direction she saw Jack going, the art became more grotesque and dark. She found a door, and with a little timidity, opened it.

Jack was already there and practicing. His shots ripped through the targets with a puffed cloud of flaky debris.

Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Marshall smiled at the clever remark. "Illusions aren't woven by telling the truth, darling." he shot back, then turned on his heel and walked towards the door.
Inside his head he could allready see his darling. The black polished paint on her streamlined form. The soft leather seats that he had installed for the summer. The fine teak interior. A shrill went down his spine at the thought of having a lap around town in his beauty.
He made several turns, bactracking his way out of the manor. Then, at long last. He was out. The refreshing air of the outside world was good, when compared to the museum-like air inside. The mossy cobblepath lay before him, and even further out, he could see the heavy iron gates. His car waiting just outside it.

He strolled out, as if he owned the place, and pushed open the small side entrance of the gate. His black beauty stood just at the other sid of the wall. With a certain amount of pride in his heart, he strolled over, and opened the doors. Quickly, he flipped his leather suitcase out, and opened it. Inside lay his legal informations, an envelope with his money, or at least the money he had while he was travelling, a set of extra clothes and of course his revolver. On the back seats(There is 4 seats in the car), lay his sword. A beautifully crafted rapier, the handle covered in thin and exquisite rabbit leather, the blade and the basket-hilt made of steel and from the end of the hilt there was a red line of wool, ending in a golden decoration.

As he removed the suitcase from the backseat, he noticed that a group of people were gathering behind him. When he finally got his suitcase out, and turned around, he was faced by a group of what seemed to be workers from a factory. Of course they weren't, but their clothes told him that they were of the lower strata. Actually, it was only males, burly and seemingly not up to any good.
He brought a hand up through his sandy blonde hair. "Can I help you gentlemen?" he aked, hoping that they would dissolve and go on with their own business.
"It's a nice car you got there. Mind if I take a ride?" A large man with a red beard said, clearly the leader of the worker gang.
"Actually, I have a problem with that!" Marshall snapped back, as if by reflex. "You halfwits wouldn't even know how to operate it." he continued, before he got a hold of his tongue.

The red haired man imediatly took advantage of this. "You call me a halfwit sir? I think that you just insulted me, didn't he guys?" He asked back, gaining the others acknowledgement. One of them even encouraged him; "Go on Barsell, teach that pip-squeak a lesson!"
Marshall swallowed hard, when he realised that these types were trying to pick up a fight, and that he'd given them a good reason for one. "Now, don't be hasty gentlemen. I'm sure we can figure things out, eh?" Marshall said, a drop of sweat rolling down his chin.
"I'm afraid that isn't possible sir, you see, you've insulted me before my friends and colleagues. I'm afraid that I HAVE to teach you a lesson in good behaviour." the redhaired man, Barsell, said. He grinned as he stepped forward, and Marshall instinctively took one back.

His friends then spread out, so there was no way for Marshall to flee. The thing he'd have to do, was to take Barsell out.
"You ready for a little... fight?" Barsell asked, flashing Marshall a menacing grin. Barsell then took off his five-pence hat and threw it on the ground, revealing the rest of his receeding, red and croppy hair.
"Why yes." Marshall answered. He then spun around and grabbed his rapier from the seat, where he would've left it. In a fluid movement, he pulled the rapier from it's sheath, and swung it to point directly at the large man.
Barsell of course, wasn't intimidated by such a move. "You know kid, I've seen some darn good fencers in my life, but none could compare to a good whack with my little friend here." he said as he drew up a solid iron pipe. "You know, you could've let us have a tour in your car. But now I have to beat you up, and then take your car."

The Barsell stormed forward, hoping to rush the smaller Marshall.
That tactic of course was doomed to fail, Marshall began side-stepping before he was even within range, making sure to have his back at the wall, yet still draw the battle a little ways away from his beloved car.
Then Barsell slowed down, beginning to circle around to get on Marshall's left side. A quick thrust from Marshall's rapier of course made him stop. Then again, he changed tactic. He began moving forward, holding the pipe in front, as if he was hoping to be able to parry the sword. With a swift movement, Marshall was up close, whacking Barsell over his hand. Barsell of course yelped of pain, as his fingers were wounded by the sharp edge. The pipe fell to the ground, and Barsell backed off. Much to the amazement of his friends.

"You know what kid, I think Bosco and Brian here can take care of you. Why should 'I' be the one getting my hands dirty?" He stated, as he held his hand. Blood was allready seeping out from between his fingers.
Bosco and brian were a little different from Barsell. Bosco was carrying an iron chain, and Brian had a nasty looking knife. Both were shabby and sloppy. The both approached him, hoping that they could take him down quickly. Of course it shouldn't be so. Marshall is our hero in this matter of course.
Marshall quickly make sure to swipe his rapier out, which of course made them hesitate for a moment. Then Brian stepped forward, the knife ready to slash at Marshall. A quick thrust up in his arm, brought him to a halt. He screamed, as blood gushed out of the wound. Bosco was of course a quick man, so he swung the stump of iron chain he had at Marshall's rapier, with the result of wrapping it around the blade. He made a nasty grin, showing off his ugly brown teeth. "What'cha gonna do now boy?"
Action was imediatly taken, Marshall stepped back, lowered the blade so the point was towards Bosco. Then he stepped forward and impaled Bosco's stomach. Bosco coughed for a second, looking in amazement at his wound, before he fell to his knees. He began screaming and released the iron chain from his grip, as he tried to stop the bleeding with his hands. He was in vain.

Most of the gang then backed away, some even turning to flee. Barsell just stood there, looking at Marshall with wide eyes. Then his eyes narrowed. "Just wait you damned whelp! You'll be dead before you leave town!" and then he left, running after the rest of his gang. Only Bosco was back, lying at the ground breahing heavily now. The white in his eyes showing that he could see the end of the tunnel approach.
"Deus Tecum." Marshall said, as he picked up his suitcase and belongings. "May God the Almighty have mercy upon your soul."
He then turned and went back towards the gate of the mansion, hoping that it would be the last nuisance of the day. Although, something told him that he'd be in for much of the same kind over the next weeks...