Fanchon
Waker
Scourge of Eberron!
Posts: 126
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Post by Fanchon on Oct 19, 2008 20:17:22 GMT
The people near the tournament grounds were far too caught up in their own jabberjawing to notice as the armor clad woman passed, slicing through the crowd with the greatest of ease. Many only noticed a slight chill in their bones and looked about, wondering what had caused it before going back to their business.
The tournament registrar, busy with the paperwork, did not see her approach, but felt her eyes upon him. He looked up and locked eyes with her, almost immediately averting his gaze somewhat.
"C-can I help y-you milady?" He stammered out nervously, rather unsettled by the piercing nature of those cold eyes.
"You may. I am not here to take part in the tournament, merely register my presence for this... gala. Are you the one to do that, or should I find someone else?" she asked, her voice surprisingly clear and alluring, but with a hint of steel behind it. As she spoke, she drew back her hood.
The registrar nearly gasped, and several of the men nearby who caught a glimpse simply stared in wonderment. Nearby women also could not help but take notice.
Although primarily of a human cast, the slight point of her ears and almond eye shape betrayed her Elven ancestry immediately, as did certain other subtle facial features. The most prominent feature, however, were what appeared to be pale red tattoos. The milk white flesh of her face and neck were covered with them, and they swirled and eddied about as if a playful wind had simply marked its passing upon her smooth skin. Although neither directly adding nor subtracting to her stark beauty, they added an air of the exotic seldom seen within the Realms.
"Um, y-yes milady. Guest names w-will be taken before entry, but I can go ahead a-and register you now if you like." he managed to say, thankful that he could lower his eyes back down to his paperwork without meaning any disrespect. Between her piercing eyes and exotic good looks, he wasn't sure if he should flee in terror or fall madly in love.
"Then you may inform your mistress that Lady Fanchon Soulbreach of Zhentil Keep is here for the festivities." she stated.
"Why yes, milady. The ball will start once the tournament is concluded. In the meantime, please enjoy the show. Some fine warriors have arrived from all the corners of the Sword Coast, and should provide some top notch entertainment.", he said hurriedly, though having finally regained his composure somewhat.
"Yes. Fine warriors indeed. If that is all then, I have traveled far, and am in need of refreshment."
"Of course, milady. Just to the east you will find the refreshment tables. I'm sure you will find something there to your liking."
"Indeed. Thank you for your assistance, I will be sure to mention it to your mistress.", she said, and began to move through the crowd once more. Those staring quickly averted their gaze, not wishing to be caught doing so.
The mistress will not be happy having competition like that around. And Zhentil Keep? Wonder what business they might have here so soon after rebuilding... bah, she's a lady, but not here in official capacity. Otherwise she'd have gone directly to Lord Nasher. he mused as he went back to his work, waiting for the next guests to arrive, and hoping there would be no more like her.
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Post by Chaos 303030 on Oct 20, 2008 0:14:35 GMT
Aravel reacted almost quickly enough. In a moment, he was holding his scimitar in a stance prepared for any frontal attack that would be feasible for a regular mortal's speed. However, the hawk was diving and it was too late to stop it, so he figured that if it came to blows he might be in trouble from the second attacker. He mentally reminded himself to keep his Shade around at all times.
Aravel didn't stop smiling. "Well hey now, there be no need for any violence now, my'lady. If'n you'll accept me most sincere o' apologies, I'd be most grateful an' the like, yes'n I would! I finds meself in these situations quite often, yes I do, cuz o' me tendency to walk on through the Shadowy Place without even a thought in me old noggin!" He bowed, replacing the scimitar on his back but keeping one hand near to the reverse gripped dagger in his belt. "Now, we migh' be still talkin abou' those techniques, might we not? It'd be good to get in some practice before the tourny begins, aye?"
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Post by FC4 on Oct 20, 2008 0:48:30 GMT
Herista raised one eyebrow at Aravel, intrigued by his mannerism and the weapon he wielded in reaction to her. She noted he kept a hand near his belt, and did not accept the hand she held out to him. So, she somewhat hurtfully let the hand fall back on the pommel of her scimitar.
"I already apologized for my reaction; obviously I would accept your apology, sir Aravel." Herista replied smoothly, her voice clear to him, but not so much to others. Shadowy place? Does he mean the Shadow Plane? That would explain why I could not sense his approach, so it has to be. She'd only met one of them before, and he was one of the most intriguing comrades she'd ever taken on. To have to face another in a battle...
"It'll certainly be exciting to battle with you in the arena." She remarked, nodding and smiling softly. "I've never fought a shadow dancer before; met one, but he was luckily on my side at the time." She adjusted her arm as Jyril adjusted his grip, the hawk warily eying Aravel. He still did not trust the man, evident by how high up her forearm the bird had perched himself.
Herista giggled softly, the sound more like the rustling of leaves than a laugh, and put her face into the bird's. Jyril did not recoil, and allowed her to rub her forehead gently on his, before she pecked his beak lovingly. "Now Jyril, Aravel is a friend now, not an enemy. He won't hurt you, I promise. See? He put his sword away and is standing there nicely." She spoke to the bird like a mother would a child, and looked back at Aravel.
"You've gotten on his bad side, I fear. He's not happy when he's spooked. As for techniques... I... wasn't really aware I was using any specific technique. I just kind of... go with the flow of things." Herista shrugged at this, an action causing Jyril to fidget.
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Post by Chaos 303030 on Oct 20, 2008 1:00:05 GMT
Aravel foolishly neglected to notice the outstretched hand. "Oh, me bad, it'd be a pleasure to be shaken your hand, my'lady." He extended the hand near his belt again. When the bird showed signs of tenseness, Aravel looked at it and made soft cooing sounds, of what he remembered from his ranger training, to calm it down. It wasn't the bird's natural call; it was unlikely to be the natural sound for anything. But for some reason, it was a soothing, calming noise.
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Post by FC4 on Oct 20, 2008 1:09:41 GMT
Jyril listened to the cooing, cocking his head to one side at the sounds the nomad made, before the hawk's eyes centered on the hand outstretching, and he screeched his displeasure at the man. His behavior earned a sharp rap of a finger upon his beak from Herista, who chided him.
"Behave." Her tone was hushed as she sternly told him off, and the hawk gave Aravel a glare before lowering his head obediently. Herista apologetically smiled, taking the man's hand. Like hers, it was rough; further adding the image of a man who lived harsher than the host of the tournament. "Sorry... Jyril can be very stubborn and protective." She explained in an equally hushed tone, slightly embarrassed by the bird's behavior. When she let go of his hand, she let it fall back to her side.
"If I may.... how do you fight with that chain around your wrist?"
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Post by Chaos 303030 on Oct 20, 2008 2:10:55 GMT
"It be no bother to me, my'lady. As to how I be fightin with the chain, it'n be complicated to a fault." He held up his blade for a moment. "Both the chain and the scimitar are magically forged, and in melee combat it be much the same as a normal blade. It took me a while to get used to the weighting of the blade, but it came along with me Shadowdancer training. At medium range, I be twirling the chain and then throwing it with great force." He began to demonstrate, twirling and aiming at a statue halfway across the garden. "The momentum, and part of the magical forging of the blade, keeps it goin' straight as an arrow, it does. I release the chain and let it fly behind the sword like a tail, and pull it taught when it makes an impact."
With a grunt, he released the twirl, hurling the scimitar at the statue. The sword and chain flew across the room, passing through the Plane of Shadows at various intervals to compensate for the shortness. The extra chain flew through his opened palm until, with a distinct grating sound, the sword jammed itself halfway into the rock. Slight rips into the Shadow Realm, edging the chain, were just visible to the trained eye. With a grunt and a tug, Aravel yanked the chain back. Quite obviously, the damage that would have been done to an organic target would have been catastrophic, to say the least. As the chain made its way back to him, he began to wind it up again. He perked up again, "Also, I can be usin' the chain at short distances as a length extender, allowing me to twirl it like a lasso and cut things up at close range. If things be getting sticky, I've always got me trusty dagger, which I prefer to wield in me offhand."
(OOC: Damn, another one. Anyway, Im sorry if that wasn't exactly enlightening, but it's a stretch fighting with a chain. Imagine somewhat like Kratos.)
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Fanchon
Waker
Scourge of Eberron!
Posts: 126
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Post by Fanchon on Oct 20, 2008 3:54:18 GMT
From her seat across the venue, Fanchon watched the rather scruffy looking half elf demonstrate his combat technique to a white haired woman with obvious ancestry of the elemental type. Her mailed hand held a nicely ornamented chalice of wine, which she casually sipped with all the grace of a proper lady.
Interesting technique, and access to the plane of shadow almost at a whim. If all the fighters here possess such abilities, then it very well may be a fine show. And an excellent place to find allies, should they be receptive to His plans. she thought somberly, taking another sip.
Almost as if on cue, a well dressed man who'd obviously had too much to drink already swaggered up to her. His intentions were quite clear from the look in his eyes, but before he could open his mouth to speak, she did so.
"Think before you disturb me with your insipid attempts at flirtation. Is it really worth disturbing one whom is clearly above your station for the sake of lust? Because if what you say does not benefit or amuse me in some fashion, be rest assured that the maggots of the Abyss will feast heartily upon your pathetic soul this eve, as poor a meal as it may be.", she said with a voice of pure malice, locking eyes with him.
His mouth worked for a moment, but no words came out. Abruptly he turned around and staggered away as hastily as he could, pale as a ghost.
Fanchon returned to observing her previous targets of interest without a further sound, sipping at her wine.
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Post by Vrek on Oct 20, 2008 4:18:17 GMT
"Was that some magic trick, or just a sharp tongue n' poor social skills?" Perum asked the irritable woman, while climbing on a chair to get a better look at the refreshments. He reach towards a plate, bringing back a cut of fried fish.
"That elf isn't very bright; showing off everything he knows at a whim. The demi-human girl aint much better off; Too jumpy. The elf knows a neat trick, might be a little fun, but it's no good now that I've seen it." He stopped for a moment, biting into the fish.
He looked out of the corner of his eye to the armored woman, "Between them and that abyss-spawn from before, this lil' tourney is shaping into something. You look pretty traveled; how do you think will be worth the most fun?"
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Fanchon
Waker
Scourge of Eberron!
Posts: 126
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Post by Fanchon on Oct 20, 2008 8:46:04 GMT
Fanchon sized up the halfling out of the corner of her eye. His attire and physique were most unusual for one of his people, and she was slightly surprised that he would recognize a Gensai so easily. She deigned that he would probably be a more interesting conversationalist than the majority of those around, and decided to answer.
"Hard to say. Those two, other than yourself of course, are the only ones I've seen that are entering the tournament. Unless like myself, you are merely here to spectate.", she said casually.
"You are right about the fool half elf; he should learn to keep his mouth shut about what he's capable of before a fight. And I doubt that Lord Nasher will appreciate the liberties he's taken with what is most likely a very expensive statue. The woman might be jumpy, or maybe alert is a better word. We shall find out when she fights, at any rate."
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Post by FC4 on Oct 20, 2008 19:36:38 GMT
Herista watched him use the chain sword, and swing it towards a statue, and her eyes grew slightly at the impact. She hadn't realized the powers of a shadowdancer could be utilized for that sort of purpose. It was certainly intuitive, but she already saw holes in the technique, and in the use of the chain overall.
"You.... probably should not have done that. There was really no point to it." She admonished him, though it was gentle, her voice a whisper as always. He is confident. Or cocky, or foolish, or giving a false impression. Either way, he is giving me an advantage, but I must take it carefully. He likely has other tricks up his sleeve.
But I've never gone against this kind of opponent before. Even if he reveals his techniques, testing his holes will be interesting. She fidgeted in place, already getting antsy standing there, and the novelty of talking with the man with Jyril so agitated starting to wear off.
She noticed a short man trying to reach food at a table, a humorous escapade that caught her attention, and provided a perfect reason to leave before he tried to get her to show her techniques in detail. "If you will excuse me, Aravel, I am hungry and must eat before the competition. It has been a pleasure meeting you." She gave him a courteous bow before swiftly making her way to the refreshments table, grabbing a plate.
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Post by Vicorva on Oct 20, 2008 19:53:08 GMT
Desny
Desny was not particularly interested in the actions of those around him, though nonetheless, he watched them. Without arrogance, he considered himself to be a much better fighter than any that had signed up today- and apart from everything else, killing was an executable offense in a tournament.
Besides... unless he missed his guess, his sister was here. Oh, she might act like she hated him, but she would never dream of allowing ill to befall him during a tournament. Her bardic songs would easily influence the outcome of what would happen...
And though he hardly need her help, it would be amusing to watch the spirits of his opponents break as he fought them. It always was. A small smile curved his lips. Silence hated using the Curse Song, but use it she would if she thought it would keep him from harm.
He watched with interest as a young part Genasi escaped from the clutches of a well-meaning young half-elf. He watched her face rather than her form. She seemed soft and breezy, as all Genasi did, and though she doubtlessly had hidden depths, she could hardly compete with the fire and brimstone that lay within him.
And he wasn't thinking of the tournament. No... he was wondering about perhaps finding himself a partner before he escorted the Lady to the ball. And that woman- though far too 'good', for his tastes, would at least provide some entertainment as he corrupted all that she was.
He took a sip of wine, smiling again. Nobody could resist the charm of a Succubus, and Desny had that in plenty.
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Silence
Unaware of the darker presence and plots of her brother, Silence now strode through the hall, heading for the refreshments table. Though they had yet to move to the ball proper, as the hall had not yet been opened, the demand for food was still there.
Silence chose little from the table: food had never held much sway over her, perhaps because of her unearthly heritage, so she took only some segments of orange and a glass of water, which she sipped as she looked around for someone interesting to speak with. As of yet, she had no favourites for the Tournament, but she'd like to find someone to support.
It was during this moment that her mind and her familiar's mind became one, as her eyes landed upon the dark warlock, a man who's eldritch power seemed to follow him like a cloak. Commanders of a power that was inherently evil, she had always felt particularly drawn towards them, for it was a burden she shared.
As she watched him, something dark stirred within her, as if the atrocities he had committed had somehow transmitted to her. She tore her eyes away from him. She had to prepare before she spoke to one such as him. The balance between good and evil within her was greatly biased in favour of darkness, and she felt always as if she walked along a tightrope, heaven just out of reach but the flames of the abyss licking up to weaken the rope.
However, Griffin had no such problems, and, sharing the emotions of his master, he recognised only her will to meet him, and not her wish to control herself.
The fox ran to the fore of the Warlock, leaping nimbly up onto a wall that put him at eye level with the dark man. "Have you time for a familiar?" the fox enquired, his voice somehow multi-layered, as if it were not only his, and as if it spoke on two levels: outloud, and in the mind. "We will not take much of your time, but you have piqued our interest."
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Post by webster52402 on Oct 20, 2008 20:59:33 GMT
To Aethesh's credit, he didn't seem surprised nor perturbed by the familiar that dashed past him, landing on the bookcase shelf that he had been reaching for so that it could reach his eye level. Instead, he simply flicked his gaze to the familiar, his hand pausing for the briefest of moments, before continuing, pulling the book that he had spied from the shelf calmly. A book on religion, and its practice, Aethesh cracked it open to a random page, turning his gaze down onto it as though the fox hadn't even approached.
"That depends on what use my time will serve. If it is merely for the pleasure of my company, then you are likely to desire someone other than I's words. If it is for a job, I am afraid that my attentions are already required elsewhere, in this tournament. Anything else... Then I bid you welcome. What is it that you require of me?" He asked fluidly, as he walked over to one of the deserted tables nearby, lowering himself into one of the seats. They were surprisingly comfortable, for things that looked like they would be as stiff as a cadaver buried in ice.
He flipped idly through the book, as though he hadn't a care in the world, though his attention was obviously away from the words that swam on the pages in front of him, detailing the various gods, goddesses, and religious practices therein. Instead, his mind was already attuned to this familiar, awaiting word on just whom its master was, what it was that its master wanted of him, and just why in the world it had picked him, of all people, to come and speak with.
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Post by Vrek on Oct 23, 2008 4:33:47 GMT
"No... I'm here to fight. Have a bit of fun before I get tired of this place. The bloody little gang war here hasn't been as exciting as I would have first hoped." Perum sat silent for a moment, thinking of his next words, "The demi-human... You say alert, I say unready. To unprepared for a city, it looks like. I know. I was the same way at one point." The woman made their way towards them, and he nodded, "We'll see how well she duels then, won't we?"
When the woman neared he quietly studied her from the corner of his eye, while still biting into the piece of fish. She was either born of an air djinn, or a water elemental of some sort, if he recalled what he was told from another. He believed that it was an Air Genasi, as ones of the water tended to not leave the seas.
Based of what he knew, Air Genasi were free willed, but compassionate. With a light grin he looked at the bird on her shoulder. He already had an idea of her weakness.
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Post by Vicorva on Nov 2, 2008 21:36:12 GMT
OOC: To make this survive- and make it interesting- I am handing out important NPCs. You don't get to pick, because you were lazy and did not choose. If you don't like it: tough cookies, you'll have to see if someone else'll take them off your hands. The Chief Inspector- Webster, I'd like to see you do a righteous and pure good guy. The Leader of the Red Lips- Fanchon The Leader of the Shadow Thieves- Illusionary Nothing The hostess of the ball- FC4 Lord Nasher- Vrek, since it's been over a week since you posted, I figured you may have forgotten what happened. He's fairly pre-made, and should refresh your memory, although you can make him your own. *nods* IC: SilenceThe familiar walked with the warlock, the fox leaping fluidly up onto the table before him, and sitting perfectly still, a distinctly un-animal like trait, gazing right at him. "We do not require services of you, nor would we ask in such a manner. But your company is of pleasure to us: you are of interest, something my mistress is in sore need of, though she would never presume to ask for your company: I was commanded only to scout and observe this party. But I will summon her hence, and we shall keep company with you, if this is acceptable to you."The fox, still stock-still, continued to stare at the warlock in awaiting a response, will Silence herself walked on, trying desperately to glean what she could from her familiar's mind-link.
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Post by FC4 on Nov 2, 2008 21:58:00 GMT
Herista innocently went about grabbing a plate, and setting upon it every delectable morsel she could find on the table. Jyril watched anxiously, still uptight from the recent scare caused by the half-elf Aravel. Herista paused to glance sideways at the bird, before rolling her eyes. "Jyril, give it a rest. He's not going to hurt us." Her face widened with delight and she plucked something from a plate with her fork, looking at it before grinning.
"Here's something to take your mind off Aravel. It's your favorite." She held the fork up to the red-tailed hawk, who tilted his head from one side to the other before grabbing the meat with his clawed foot and taking off, perching on a tree to eat. Herista watched him for a moment, hand on her hip and a satisfied smile on her face, before turning around with a swirl of pale hair to go about putting more food on her plate. It was a rare treat to have free access to so much food without having to hunt it. She was going to eat what she could, but not over stuff herself of course.
The entire time she had a tingling feeling someone was watching her, but the feeling wasn't all that threatening for her. She just felt like she was being watched, and was likewise ready to drop her plate should it prove deadly. But she wasn't all that worried; she was more hungry, and tasted a piece of the pork roast with a happy smile.
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