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Whisper

Talking your way into a grave is easy. Talking your way out, now that's talent.

0 · 1,342 views · located in The Snapa-verse

a character in “Nomad Clan”, as played by WilPen

Description

"These knives are like children, they often ruin someone's day."

ImageName: Whitier Hellseher. Though she is more commonly called Whisper, due to the nature of her job.
Sex: Female
Age: 19

Physical Description: Whisper could easily be described as small. Her slim frame is soft and curved, very deceiving to the fight held within. She may have a soft shape, but don’t be surprised if you catch a glimpse of her lean, slim muscle when she is running for her life. Her appearance is lithe and a simple distraction from the fact that she is an a foe to be reckoned with, and she isn't afraid to exert her dominance.

Though she is naturally pale, Whisper's hands and face have been weathered by travel and battle. They've lost their youthful glow, freckled by the sun and marred by scars. Her face is usually graced with a sly smirk, like she’s up to something. Nine times out of ten, she is. Behind the hood, pink, untameable waves make themselves at home. Though they are often blocked by the brim of her hat, her irises are also an unnatural shade of pink, representative of the Goddess Ghirina.

Families in the Hellseher Clan each select a patron God to honor and ask for protection. This color is used throughout the home and is represented in the members of the family as well. Adopting the color used to represent them in festivals and divine ceremonies, a child born into the house has their hair stained at birth. Once they reach their first year, a pilgrimage is set for the family to travel to the frigid waters high in the mountains where child's eyes are treated with the liquid. It is said to be the highest honor to the Gods.

Clothing: Due to the transient nature of her job, she dresses for practicality. She covers as much of her body as possible to equally protect from deadly sun, excruciating cold, or being identified by the wrong people. She is usually covered in black, but dark grays and the occasional white garments might make their way into her ensemble. No matter the time of day, if she is in public, she wears her hood and a cap.
Height: 5'2"
Weight: 100 lbs.
Skin Colour: White with near-permanent tan lines.
Hair Colour: Pink
Eye Colour: Light pink, almost white.

Occupation: Secret Keeper
History/Bio: Whisper was born in the treacherous valleys of Bola Brisk. Though she's a descendant of the founder of the settlement, Hellseherin Proper, it was anything but an easy life. Her birthright, as it is called by her people, was Secret Keeper; much to the despair of her mother. Her training was a rigorous study of general survival skills, hand to hand combat, dagger use, and concocting poisons from ingredients found throughout the desert.

Her father was the Clan Leader that made the decree for her to be a Secret Keeper, but she may be exempt. Should she be named as his successor, she'd be free to stay in Hellseherin Proper. Unfortunately, she was fairly vocal about her doubts that the Gods would continually select their family for leadership when they had so many others to choose from. Though she hadn't meant to imply corruption in her father, he took it as such as was quick to announce the Gods had decreed Vada would take his place when the time came.

With her older sister selected to be the successor to the Clan Leader, Whisper was sentenced to a transient lifestyle with no place to call home. As is the way of the Secret Keeper, she left Hellseherin with a backpack containing a small amount of money, the clothes on her back, and the weapons at her side. She's since traveled the desert, sending all but a small stipend back to her family to be distributed among the people. The Summer Bazaar is a time when a good number of Keepers meet up in Dol-Duna to compare stories over a drink and sell their 'wares'. It's the closest thing any of them have to a home.
Home Town: Hellseherin Proper
Native Clan: Hellseher Clan
Population: 2000 People total [Only around 500 people are in Hellfeherin Proper at any given time.]
Settlements: Hellseherin Proper, a small nameless settlement in Alhara.
Location: Bola Brisk Mountains, The Qafar Desert.
Description:
The Hellseherin Clan is said to be ruled by the Gods themselves. On a day to day basis, however, it is ultimately ruled by a Clan Leader. Though his family is also treated as royalty, they have no political power themselves. The Clan Leader acts as the Mouthpiece of the Gods to share their will with the people. The person to succeed the Clan Leader is also chosen by the Gods. It's probably a coincidence the Gods have favored the Hellseherin family since the creation of the clan.

Anyone could tell you Bola Brisk is impossible to farm and everyone seems to have a fundamental misunderstanding of how the power crystals work. Thus, the people of Hellseherin Proper found another way to survive. Such is human ingenuity. By Divine Intervention, as interpreted by the Clan Leader, clan members are chosen at birth to fulfill occupations in society. There are three main branches of Birthrights:

Most are trained as mercenaries and sold like livestock to the highest bidder. After the contract has been fulfilled, they return home only to be sold again. It isn't a bad life, you get to return home; even in death.

The second most common birthright is akin to clerical duties. Sure, some of these people will become doctors or fill some other important necessity. Most end up as drones carrying out manual labor. Holding the purse strings makes them very popular people. It's a safe, if boring, job that fills a necessary hole in society.

A select few 'lucky' infants are chosen to become Secret Keepers. This is a bit of a misnomer as they collect secrets to sell. Secret Keepers are meant to travel beyond the walls of Hellseherin Proper to collect secrets. During training, there are many tales of heroic Keepers attempting to go beyond the White Ruins to secure the biggest secret of all. Of course, they are called heroic as they died for the cause. A secret could mean any manner of information: stories, rumors, testimonies, anything. Once a Keeper has information, they broker deals to sell. Secret Keepers bring more money to their clan than any other position, but they also have the highest mortality rate. The kind of people that purchase information from a Keeper are usually also the kind to hire an assassin. It is a sign of disrespect for a Secret Keeper to return home before they reach old age and are cast out of the tribe. Even returning as an Elder has its drawbacks, it is said anyone who survives as a Keeper didn't do enough for the clan. It is better to die chasing nothing than living a long life.

While Hellseherin is a thriving city now, the current and past Clan Leaders have yet to see the merit in find other sources of income.

Personality: Whisper almost has a split personality. When meeting a mark: she practically radiates danger, even if she's simply standing there; leaned against the bar, hands crossed over her chest, and her head tilted just enough to make you think she’s debating on killing you. She walks with a swift pride that hardly goes unnoticed. She makes no effort to hide her authority. This is her game and you are just playing in it. Her voice never breaching a whisper, she’ll have gotten what she came for and left before anyone else even realizes she’s there. She’s calm, collected, and calculating; always looking for her next hit.

When among friends: she has a much harder time saving face. Talking is one of her favorite activities, but her training and occupation made it difficult to speak with someone as a friend rather than goading them into sharing their darkest secrets. She hasn’t yet found any true friends since leaving her homeland. Bars have been a suitable source of casual interaction, but it isn’t enough. That said, she is the type of person to stab first, ask questions later at any hint of malice. This hasn’t made her very popular. Revealing her birthname is her highest sign of trust and respect.

Fears and Desires: Whisper above all else wishes to return home, if only for a short while. Her greatest fear is that she should die before seeing her parents again.

Equipment and Weapons: Sending her money home hasn't done Whisper any favors. She's carried everything she owns in one pack. Though it's a lot heavier than when she left Hellseherin, it still has room. She has a few changes of clothes, a small tent and provisions of water and food. Her pack is also equipped with supplies to make her own poisons. On a belt at her hip, she carries two daggers and a dozen throwing knives, and vials of paralytic poisons.
Styles and Abilities: Whisper relies on stealth more heavily than any other skill she has. She can get in and out of most places unseen and likes it that way. Less bloodshed is what she wants. However, if she senses any sort of danger in an interaction, she'll not hesitate to attack. Her tactic of choice is paralyzing the enemy and running. She can hold her own in a hand to hand battle, but would still prefer the element of surprise as she usually has a disadvantage on size.

So begins...

Whisper's Story

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Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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#, as written by WilPen
Whisper gave the man a wink and raised her refilled mug towards him.

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Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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He raised his refilled glass back, chugging it's contents in once swift motion, then setting it down on the counter, at the point his cheeks had flushed red from the alcohol.

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Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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The northman maintains eye contact with the woman until she breaks it as their drinks arrive. Looking away then he turns his attention to his own mug and takes a sip, grinning when he finds the bartender has refilled his with spirits rather than ale. "Sören Ahlgren, if you must know. I am of the Rotgevir clan. And yourself?"

He turns a bit in his seat so he can keep an eye on here. She was too quiet to be trusted in a blind spot, Sören had already decided. So far she seemed to be friendly enough, but that could all change very suddenly. He knew this all too well, as he assumed many strangers in strange lands would have some to know the same thing.

-meanwhile-

Duneyrr was growing bored of waiting around for Sören. His friend should have been there what seemed like an hour ago, though the stag knew good and well it had not really been that long. Still, Duneyrr had been alone long enough to find the space provided for the wagon, park the damnable thing, and headbutt a stranger who had tried to sneak into the wagon from the backside.

As with every time the northman had brought him to this desert village, there was a trough of water waiting for him at this space, and a barrel of scraps. Vegetables and fruits. Of course Duneyrr would prefer fresh food, and while the top layer did seem fresh, the lower down you went the worse the food would be. So, ignoring this, the stag walks around to the back of the wagon and nudges a barrel of apples until they fall over. Sören would be annoyed at having to clean this up, but no matter.

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Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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#, as written by WilPen
Her face broke into a sly grin as he finally answered her. Whisper turns in her seat so she faces away from the bar and towards the bulk of the patrons. Sipping slowly from her cup, she replies, "I am called Whisper. I am Clanless as far as anyone here knows. Though I will admit that isn't true."

She looked out to the crowd, seeing who was drinking and who was following less savory pursuits. In the corner of her eye, she could watch her target, but she wasn't particularly worried. He'd been in much better positions to attack her previously.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Musa Grazing Bull Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Whisper
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#, as written by Jaek
Dustin was incredulous. They were aiding him in escaping, this was absolutely ridiculous. Either guards were incompetent or couldn't be arsed to do anything about it. This guy, this Wetlander, was causing a scene in the streets, throwing stuff around, and now was claiming this settlement was going to get destroyed? He should be questioned and held, not released.

He cast a glance at the individual beside him, voicing further common sense. The armored girl seemed to not do anything after that, but that tall horned man conversed with him. So did that black-clad girl. His own eyes narrowed in suspicion as they followed the cloaked female leave the cage and head to the bar nearby. He strode up to the cage to see what was done and hefted a deep sigh. What were they thinking?

Dustin decided he'd at least do something about it. He marched right into the building with the words The Iron Bar written over the door and began scanning the crowd. It wasn't difficult to pick out a black cloak at the bar. Who wears black in this heat? "Why'd you throw in the knife?" his gruff voice rang out right behind her.

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Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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"I'm a full on clanless myself." Xaverius said, taking another swig of alcohol. "Could never really get into the whole thing, so I just wander around."

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Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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#, as written by WilPen
The girl smiled at the red-faced giant, he was clearly getting a little tipsy at this point. Her reply was cut off though by a gruff man behind her. Whisper could hear him coming. Clearly angry, he nearly stomped through the bar. He stopped just short of running into her, but she didn't turn around.

His shouts were calling attention to the pair, but she leisurely turned around as if she wasn't buzzing on the inside. She cocked her head and replaced her sly grin, only those studying her very closely would be able to see the tense posture in her back. Her fingers twitched toward her dagger, but Whisper kept them firmly wrapped around the handle of her mug. She quickly finished her drink before replying, "He just wants his freedom. I can understand. I hope you can too."

Tightening her hand again, she flung the heavy glass toward his head. It stopped short of it's mark as he caught her wrist a fraction of an inch before impact.

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Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Whisper
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#, as written by Jaek
Dustin tightened his hold on her wrist and held her back to the bar, face furious that she had even attempted to do, well, anything. He yanked her hood back to get a good look at her face then scoffed. "A Hellseherin. Why am I not surprised." He roughly released her with a slight shove to put some distance between them as he took a step back just in case she felt like being brave again. "Yes, we all have a thirst for freedom. But those who begin to affect the freedoms of others relinquish their own. He's a foreigner. And not the kind that us Qafarians are friendly with."

Setting

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Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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Sören said nothing for a moment, and instead focused on his drink. The woman, Whisper he now knew her to be called, and the other man, both claimed to be clanless. His people did not believe that was possible, all humans belonged to a clan, even if it were just their own blood family. Those ties could never be severed, even if you were the only member of your family left.

The alcohol was beginning to hit him a little, he could feel a slight buzz, and with that he started to say as much to his two new drinking companions, but thought it best to finish his drink first. Downing the contents of the mug he sighs and sets it down, but before he can say anything more a voice rings out from behind him. Sören turns around enough to catch sight of the man just as Whisper throws her cup at him. Groaning, Sören stands up, straightening to his full height, before looking the man in the eye and speaking.

"You say that one loses their right to freedom when they begin to interfere with the freedom of another? And that because he is not of this land it is right to lock him away in such a way?" Sören asks, letting his accent thicken a bit to show the man that he was clearly an outsider as well. "If I make a scene will I be locked up as well? Or my friend? Surely throwing her glass caused a scene as well, did it not? Maybe we should lock you up for walking into this bar and raising your voice to the patrons trying to enjoy themselves?" His eyes were glowing now with the power of his runes, his breath misting the air. He did not want a fight, not exactly, but he was ready for one. Though the alcohol might have been pushing him on a bit.

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Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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#, as written by WilPen
The pressure on Whisper's wrist was starting to get painful, but her face didn't seem to know it. She kept the same sly smirk on her face, "Well what do you expect a Hellseherin to do when confronted by an Atzerii brute?"

His shove, forced her back into the bar but she kept her head high. Partially because he was so much taller than her, but mostly due to her Clan pride. This time, she allowed her fingers to graze her thighs. Not quite on her weapons, but close enough to have them ready if he charged.

When Soren stood up, she wasn't sure who he was planning on aiding. His speech made him seem to be on her side, but that wasn't guaranteed.

"The poor man doesn't really seem to be a danger. At least let him fight like a man, not caged like an animal." She called to the giant. She kept glancing over to Soren's glowing runes, a little in awe a little in fear.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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Xaverius then got up, stumbling over to the man. "Hey man... -hic- no need for violence here, come on, calm down and have a drink." He then opened his arms and embraced Dustin, in an attempted hug.

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Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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#, as written by Jaek
"Watch yourself, Keeper," he spat.

Dustin turned towards the large man, sizing him up. "You're no outsider. I know a Dead Forester when I see one." He cast a glance at the Hellseherin once more, letting her know she hadn't escaped his attention. "Raising your voice doesn't provide harm to one's person nor harm to their property. The Wetlander was both erratic and unpredictable, as well as having damaged one's belongings. Step back, friend. I meant no harm until I had kitchenware thrown at m-"

Dustin lurched forward both in surprise and in response to sudden extra weight thrust upon him by a surprise hug. "What the..." Dustin simply shrugged and patted the clearly drunken man on the back, embracing him back. "See? I can be nice, just don't throw cups at me."

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Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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"Hooray for friendship!" Xaverius exclaimed, still holding onto Dustin somewhat. He then let go and went back to the bar. "Bartender, another drink please." He said, laying some more caps on the counter, the bartender took them and gave him the drink, which he passed to Dustin.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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#, as written by WilPen
Whisper's other bar friend surprised her with his hug. It was super effective it appeared though as the Atzeriian just patted him on the arm. She scrunched her nose, appraising his face. He seemed sincere enough, but that didn't mean much from his clan.

"It's an instinct. I won't do it again." She wasn't apologizing, but she did feel a little bad.

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Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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Sören had been ready for conflict, but he was also feeling warm which, in combination with the ice runes which should have been keeping him cold since he activated them just a moment ago, meant he was getting drunk. Letting out a sigh in the form of a white puff of mist before his face, the northman watches as the clanless man seems to defuse the situation by hugging the loud man. He looks over to Whisper, then takes a step back, as the loud man had suggested he do, but only so that he could remove his cloak.

Without this garment his arms were bare and his actual attire, and weapons, were revealed. It was clear now that all Sören wore was a leather vest and a pair of baggy, durable pants. At his waist he had, on one side a leather pouch and on the other side hung a black iron handaxe. Strapped to his back was his prized possession, a spear with a black wooden haft as tough as iron, and a spearhead carved from a saber cat fang. After folding up his cloak and laying it over his helm, he adjusts his spear, and for a moment the runes on both his weapon and his arms glow blue, then wink out.

"Perhaps you are right friend." Sören says as he stakes his seat, slipping another crystal out of his pouch to pay for two drinks, one for himself and one for the new man. When the bartender places the two mugs before him, Sören offers one to the tall stranger. "Sit with us and let us speak of this like men," he glances over at Whisper, "And a woman."

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Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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"As well as having plenty on drink!" Xaverius added, chuckling and taking a swig from his mug. He had been though about 4 or so mugs so he was starting to get pretty hammered.

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Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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#, as written by Jaek
Dustin decided to take the invitation. It was a free drink anyways, so why not?

"Yes, let's," he replied as he pulled up a stool and sat beside the two. "What's brought you so far down south, my friend?" The Kassellander glanced at the Dead Forester, still trying to guess his specific clan. The runic tattoos weren't necessarily a rarity of his people, but their small amount of luminescence and slight chill definitely threw him off.

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Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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Now that he got a good look at the man, Sören could tell that he was from Ariket. The Rotgevir clan had had dealings with the Ariket people many times, and Sören had been forced to pass through their lands in order to reach Dol-Duna. He could have braved the mountain passes on his own, or with just Duneyrr at his side, but with the wagon and the goods it would have been too much of a risk. In any case, he knew the people of Ariket, the ones his father dealt with, to be honorable, and so he decided that this really was just a misunderstanding.

He still didn't know what the man meant about the knife though.

"My name is Sören Ahlgren, of clan Rotgevir." The northman says, raising his mug to his chest before lifting it up to his lips and draining half of it's contents into his belly. Few people who knew the Dead Forest clans believed him when he said this though, as he looked almost nothing like his father or brothers. He was shorter than any of them, with skin tanned from his treks to the desert proper. He favored his mother much more, with his dark hair and softer facial features, but he did share the Rotgevir clan's odd blue eyes with grey flecks. "I travel to this village once each year to trade furs and timber and other such goods. And yourself? I've seen few of the Ariket people here this year, not with such fine weapons."

One thing he had taken away from the harsh warrior training his father had put him through for so many years was to always recognize when a person, man or woman, especially a woman, was armed, and what they were armed with. This man carried a fine, curved blade, and Sören thought he had spotted the handle of a dagger or two as the man took his seat.

(OOC: no idea if the daggers he carries are supposed to be hidden or not)

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Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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"I came to this village from the east." Xaverius started, his words were somewhat slurred. "I've been wandering around pretty much all my life, I left my family when I was only 18, to put that into perspective I'm 40 now. I've kinda been meaning to see if I can find them. On another note, I also do a lot of scavenging, found some cool old tech that I traded in for some tape just as I got here." He took another swig of his mug.

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Character Portrait: Xaverius Rusten Character Portrait: Dustin vel Iz'Raphel Character Portrait: Sören Ahlgren Character Portrait: Whisper
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#, as written by WilPen
With the situation calmed down, everyone seemed to take a seat. Whisper righted the stool that had been knocked over when she ran into the bar earlier. Glancing around the area, she saw quite a few items scattered around the floor having been knocked over in the tussle.

Taking her seat and ordering another mug, the pink woman turned to the newly calmed man. Not wanting to start something else, she bit her tongue and allowed the others to pull the information from him. The Atzerii and Hellseher Clans hadn't gotten along for as long as anyone could care to remember. In the Hellseher Clan, they are told stories of the monstrous things the Atzerii are capable of. It is never safe to let your guard down around them, let alone trust them.

And here was Whisper, more or less having a drink with him. What is the world coming to?