Assassination

[Ven]

I'm just wondering what a fresh start on the old forum's RPG would be like with new people... you know raist you should really get Drasek here if he will come. he's a good RPer

Ereyna - largest continent
Kouq'n Mountains - mountain range that extends nearly the length of southern Ereyna from east to west
Dezru Mountains - mountain range branching also stretching east and west along northern Ereyna
Vwmanx - shadowy mountains branching north from the Kouq'n. seldom visited and said to be cursed
Thor-Erynr - major lordcity south of Kouq'n Mountains
Srq Sil'n - ocean east of Ereyna
Brene Sea - ocean west and south of Ereyna
the Iceplains - arctic oceans north of Ereyna beyond the Sea of Fire


Ewiendr - race of sun elves dwelling in the woods of Ewiendryma on the northern side of the mountain Kouq'n
Qqindr - race of earth elves (or neutral elves) that live in Qqindrashu, forest next to the vast Ereyna Plains
Pnen'adr - less populous race of dark elves dwelling in the shadowy forests of Pnen'adrzaa, which is in the valley of the mountain Vwmanx. they are comprised of light and neutral elves that have been exiled from their homelands. most of them are necromancers or assassins.

Man - live south of the Kouq'n Mountains and are divided into kingdoms, with Thor-Erynr as the most prosperous city
Elf - north and east of Kouq'n and divided into three branches, with the Ewiendr being the largest and most powerful
Dwarf - most live beneath Kouq'n, with some branching out along the mountains around Kouq'n

Nymphs - messengers of the gods in the forms of beautiful women
Druids - fey folk of ancient that dwelled in forests north of Dezru and gifted in prophecy and woodlore

**the wildlands of the high Kouq'ns and north of the Dezru are seldom explored and home to monsters. the Sea of Fire is actually a peninsula off the tip of northern Ereyna teeming with volcanoes and fiery infernos. it is the dwelling place of demons and fiends

(map)
i74.photobucket.com/albums/i273/insanemaniacz/Ereynamap.jpg



LIST OF CURRENT CHARACTERS:
(if i may presume...)
Name: Isaac (Vengeance w/RaistlinMajere)
Gender: Male
Age: 35
Race: human
Profession: Close Advisor to Duke of Talisbania.
Abilities: being stupid. writing.
Appearance: black hair, sharp features. gray eyes. Always has at least 3 quills on him. Cannot use magic. emotions usually written on his brows if not his face. he has a unibrow. dislikes swords. loves bow and arrow. kind of soft hearted. always have spare parchment and official-looking seals on his person. NEVER goes anywhere without them. loves reading and taking notes. Kind of short, and not very thin...
kind of a boring guy don't you think?


Feuer Padrone [Vengeance]
Gender: male
Race: n/a (long life)
age:76 (looks about 15)
Occupation: spy, negotiator, tracker
weapons: spikes, knives, light weapons. uses agility to conquer. unique sword
Personality: speedy. enjoys enjoying scenery. mysterious, unnerving. obnoxious
Info: likes pistachios. his (unclear) race gives him the ability to move faster than the eye can see. (except to dragons, which would look like he was appearing and disappearing) dislikes messes, likes order. He has a mark on his left forearm that circles his arm- and when it shines Feuer is about to lose control and go mad (as in like not aware of himself and start killing random people in rage)
Attack: hit opponents with his knives or throws them at his opponent. Or uses his sword. open spaces: he likes woods. he always kills his opponents.
his attack style was perfected over the years while he actually grew to be looking like a 15 year old human. a huge energy blast, in all directions, and if it hits him, is the only effective way to take him out of battle. has rarely been done.

Weapon:
Sword with slit on the bottom. very light. Never dulled age (elf magic) runes inside for slicing through magic (as in attacks) in side the handle. Sword can slide down through the slit to the opposite side and also can slide halfway to be doublesided. Hole in handle allows Feuer to control the sliding of the sword.
Sheathed in a special scabbard- scabbard has metal linings that can come off to reveal sharp edges that can be used as a second weapon when in need, but Feuer usually does not need it.

Abilities:
Manipulation of fire
slip into time stream- move in slow time (other people in real time, Feuer just... slower) -explains his youngness

Name: Denaris Erydera (RaistlinMajere)
Gender: male
Age: [no comment] appears to be 30 or so
Race: dark elf
Profession: mage

Abilities: potent in dark magic; necromancy

Appearance: tall, slender, handsome; long black hair; striking green eyes; black robes with several pouches at his waist for spell components

Personality: charming and quick-witted; cruel, proud, dispassionate in everything; completely a master of himself and his ambitions; complete dandy; can be overly sarcastic

History: He was born in the Sunlit Realms of Ewiendr as a sun elf. His father disappeared when he was very young, leaving his mother to care for him and his younger sister alone. When he was a child he loved and cared for his small family, especially his sister, but as he matured so did his ambition. Through cunning and charm he made his way up to the High Court of the Ewiendr, where he was one of the top advisors of the ruler of the sun elves. However he was banished from the Sunlit Realms after he was caught practicing necromancy. He eventually made his way to the shadows of the Pnen'adr, where he was accepted by the dark elves. There, he grew in power until he became one of the chief rivals of the Archmage and his possible successor.

Name: Eledhe Darkstar [Meldawen]
Age: 23
Gender: female
Race: Human with traces of dark elf if you look close enough.
Profession: Sellsword. Mercenary, assassin, bodyguard, you name it, she'll do it. For a price.
Abilities: minor magic, use of any weapon you care to name (though skill is not guaranteed unless it's her customary shurikens or scimitar)
Appearance: Black hair, worn down, and intense blue eyes. Possesses quite a disconcerting stare. Pale triangular face, and sturdy slender frame. Wears a black cloak and light leather armor as well as a jerkin and tunic.
Personality: Catty, intelligent, blunt or slyly tactful as the situation requires. Rather too gullible for a mercenary and has a tendency to act on impulse rather than reason.
History: Eh...in the works.

[RaistlinMajere]

Drasek has been... guh of late. I think I made a map for this too... hold on while I dig it up from the sands of antiquity... ah yes. i74.photobucket.com/albums/i273/insanemaniacz/Ereynamap.jpg

TIME TO RESURRECT THE DARK ELF OF DOOM MWAHAHAHAHAHA *cough* wow I haven't played this guy in so long...
Name: Denaris Erydera (RaistlinMajere)
Gender: male
Age: [no comment] appears to be 30 or so
Race: dark elf
Profession: mage

Abilities: potent in dark magic; necromancy

Appearance: tall, slender, handsome; long black hair; striking green eyes; black robes with several pouches at his waist for spell components

Personality: charming and quick-witted; cruel, proud, dispassionate in everything; completely a master of himself and his ambitions; complete dandy; can be overly sarcastic

History: He was born in the Sunlit Realms of Ewiendr as a sun elf. His father disappeared when he was very young, leaving his mother to care for him and his younger sister alone. When he was a child he loved and cared for his small family, especially his sister, but as he matured so did his ambition. Through cunning and charm he made his way up to the High Court of the Ewiendr, where he was one of the top advisors of the ruler of the sun elves. However he was banished from the Sunlit Realms after he was caught practicing necromancy. He eventually made his way to the shadows of the Pnen'adr, where he was accepted by the dark elves. There, he grew in power until he became one of the chief rivals of the Archmage and his possible successor.



Human cities were all so staid and lacking in aesthetics, and the mountain trading town of Highpass was the supreme archetype of this classification. Roads of weathered flagstones. Squat buildings of geometric stone. Citizens of dimwitted suspicion - and with ample reason. Highpass was, in a word, unremarkable. And yet... such potential if under suitable monarchy, which unluckily for it hadn't happened in the past century. It stood as the single pass through the Kouq'n Mountains, the gate between dwarven and human trade.

A pity, really, how the rulership of the kingdom had passed from idiot to idiot. Highpass was the underdog that crawled to its unforgiving elder, the prosperous city Thor-Erynr, for the scraps off the table. The mountain town's general atmosphere reflected this.

Sauntering at a leisurely pace through the narrow streets, the sullen afternoon sun baking on his hooded head and gold-hemmed black robes, Denaris Erydera returned the resentful glances from each and every passerby with a disarming smirk that perfectly sang with innocence. He concealed his elven heritage in his jerky emulations of human clumsiness - which rather gave him the appearance of spasming every three steps. These people were full of odium. Didn't they know the benefits of smiling at someone else's expense every now and then? He wondered how they'd react upon discovering his dark elven heritage.

No hard feelings, none at all.

Denaris hadn't travelled in disguise for a long while. In his former days of glory, he'd enjoyed dominating the center of Pnen'adrzaa's streets. Watching apprentices scurry away from you in fear had its amusements, and retaining the rank of Second in the Council to the Archmage himself entitled those amusements. Unfortunately for him, he'd fallen into disfavor with dear Archmage Kvanoes lately - something about his latest failed mission. He didn't let this bother him overly. In due time the Archmage would cease to exist, replaced by a certain someone twice as capable and thrice as attractive.

Now about that mercenary...

He turned into a local tavern and proceeded to find himself a quiet corner where he could comfortably wait for this... what was his name again? Ah, yes. Padrone...

[Ven]

*rolls eyes*

Feuer sauntered through the streets, nonpeturbed at all by the people around him. He was feeling happy.
that last "commision" he had had just been performed. He was going to get rich off of this one. the Duke of Talisbania pays well, especially since he was free with the treasury of Thor-Erynr.

Feuer looked around everywhere at the vendors in Highpass.

then he turned out of the marketing area and walked toward a tavern.

gold can't be brought to the grave, even though it'll be a couple of centuries before he'll need one. In feuer's perspective, gold was meant to be earned and spent.

But, as soon as Feuer ordered 2 mugs of wine, he noticed that there was only a single seat left, across from a hooded stranger who was spasmic (sp?). shrugging, Feuer squeezed over and, with a big smile plastered on his face, sat down, ignoring the other's spasms.

[RaistlinMajere]

Denaris was just contemplating throwing a death spell at the idiot taking up his oxygen space, when he decided against it. Being accused of murder in this wonderful town was not a loathsome concept, but it did require effort on his part. Besides, he wasn't in a patient mood to dig a mass grave for the inevitable smoking bodies. This coupled with the fact that a meeting spot was a meeting spot, and a charred mass of rubble would make him appear an incompetent host.

That was when he noticed the sword strapped comfortably to the stranger's belt. The distinct hole in the handle. Wait. Come again...?

"So," Denaris began in conversational tones, leaning forward in utmost rapture. "How old did you say you were?"

[Ven]

"well," Feuer replied cheerily, "i don't believe we've spoke, but really, my age is not your business. I'm waiting for my drinnk, and you're doing you alone know what, like spasming. Let's just mind our own businesses, shall we?"

Feuer didn't look at the man an instant more, but, slipping into the time stream, felt under the table, accidentaly brushed a spasming leg (that darn spasming leg!) and swiped the stranger's purse for his own.

slipping out of the stream with a completely normal face, Feuer looked toward the bar tender, and yelled "what's taking so long!?"

Remind him never to steal off of a spasming person again.
it would make him appear an amateur

[Meldawen]

It's an Eledhe!

Name: Eledhe Darkstar [Meldawen]
Age: 23
Gender: female
Race: Human with traces of dark elf if you look close enough.
Profession: Sellsword. Mercenary, assassin, bodyguard, you name it, she'll do it. For a price.
Abilities: minor magic, use of any weapon you care to name (though skill is not guaranteed unless it's her customary shurikens or scimitar)
Appearance: Black hair, worn down, and intense blue eyes. Possesses quite a disconcerting stare. Pale triangular face, and sturdy slender frame. Wears a black cloak and light leather armor as well as a jerkin and tunic.
Personality: Catty, intelligent, blunt or slyly tactful as the situation requires. Rather too gullible for a mercenary and has a tendency to act on impulse rather than reason.
History: Eh...in the works.

~~~

The bartender had good reason to be distracted. He was currently pinioned under the icy glare of the breezy, self-important young woman who seemed unfortunately not under any obligation to mediate her displeasure any time soon. "Miss, the ale's best we got."

"It's hogwash," said the black-clad woman disdainfully. "Not worth a penny. It's a wonder you make any money at all."

The bartender was helpless. Hastily he turned to other business, feeling her freezing glare following him.

Eledhe let herself vent her displeasure on the unfortunate bartender for a few more moments and then lost interest. Woe to the next one who displeased her. Slipping off the stoll, she strolled gloomily through the haze of smoke and undefined odours and slumped into a seat in a corner. It was time to move on from Thor-Erynr. The capital was sadly lacking in opportunity.

Idly Eledhe fingered the wire-wrapped hilt of her scimitar, and felt the shurikens clinking in their pouch. They were her name; Darkstar, from throwing stars painted black so as not to reveal their presence by any telltale glitter. She removed one now, tossed it aimlessly up and down. They itched to be used, she felt it.

[Ven]

Quickly losing interest in the man's spasms, and much happy with his acquiring of new gold, Feuer watched the scene that took the bartender so long to get him his ale. Interested in the woman who'd managed to intimidate the stupid bartender, Feuer's gaze remained on the woman as she, whether purposely or unwittingly, came toward his table. Watching the shuriken she was tossing, Feuer's fingers got itchy. He could never resist a good test of skill. He snatched one of his out of one of his many pockets and flung it at hers, striking it in the air and nailing it above the head of a drunk man. Feuer grimaced at the man: he'd come this close to gettin his head nailed. Now THAT would have made a scene, and the Duke would have been after his hide.

No matter the businesses he'd conducted with the Duke of Talisbania, His head would be nailed to a pike outside the city's walls if secrecy was breached. Heaving an invisible sigh of relieve, he smiled at the woman and said casually, "Want a little game between us?"

[Meldawen]

Eledhe did not smile back. Her icy gaze swept him with an unimpressed sort of air and she retrieved her shuriken, split nearly in half as it was. She flicked it into the air, the silver beneath its shroud of black showing at the edges. Then her gaze returned, shrewdly appraising. Why not?

"Careful you know what you're proposing," she returned with the barest ghost of a smirk. "I'm not Eledhe Darkstar for nothing."

[RaistlinMajere]

Meanwhile, Denaris the excellent host still had his congenial grin plastered on his face. In reality he felt like hurling a death spell at both of them. Little game? A little game invoked images of dust and cheering drunks and tavern brawls. A threat to his cover was probable, and - more importantly by far - a challenge to his meticulous coiffure was inevitable.

The diminutive puke likely fancies her, he thought in ill humor, watching the interplay between the striking young woman and... Padrone? Over this he'd lose sleep for a week. Here he was, expecting a callous assassin, and what did he receive? A human boy who probably couldn't tell his breeches from his tunic. But the sword was unmistakable. And after all, it was not the mercenary's services he required, but the sword's. Aptly dubbed Ghost, the weapon was a fine archetype of elven craftsmanship. His piercing green eyes narrowed as he regarded the wielder. Did Padrone know of its powers...? If not, all the easier to use the witless mercenary. Perhaps not quite so witless. Padrone was the wielder of the august weapon, so he must be more than he appeared.

All this passed through Denaris's calculating mind without a single disturbance to his amiable smile.

[Ven]

Out of the corner of his eye, that spasmic man's smile was annoying Feuer to no end. Bu no matter, he enjoys games, and he was about to play one.
He asked politely, "Would you like to go first my lady? State your rules, state the objective. After all, it is only fitting that a gentleman like I (assumedly ignoring Denaris's smirk or scoff, which im pretty sure would have been made) let a pretty young lady like you go first. If you don't mind telling me your name, my lady?"
Playing the noble seems to be fun.
Very fun.
Although he IS one...

(and what power were you talking about? it can't like.. cast magic or anythign ...)

[Meldawen]

"Hopefully your skill with weapons is rather greater than your attention span," said Eledhe coolly, shuriken still spinning relentlessly in her hand. "I just told it to you. Eledhe Darkstar. And yours?" She pointedly ignored his flattery. She already knew she was pretty, having judged for herself, and needed no simpering male to tell her.

Tapping a long, tapered finger thoughtfully against her lips, Eledhe surveyed him. Her rules, said he. Without waiting for his response she flicked a new, unbroken shuriken up so it was grasped between her thumb and first finger. "My rules, say you. I aim...to see that bartender doesn't serve another mug of ale. Stop me."

Without further ado the throwing star leapt from her fingers.

[Ven]

Feuer didn't even try to get another shruiken to throw. He couldn't throw one fast enough to hit the shruiken. He just lept up, slipped into the time stream, and deflected the stupid shruiken away from the bartender's head (im assuimng) just in time with another one shruiken of his own, but not before breaking a leg on someone's stupid table that was jutted out at the wrong angle. He was going to have a hell of an ugly bruise before long. But the smile remained on his face.
He bowed, and said "your ladyship is too kind, going easy on me."
He carefully kept his voice and face clear of mockery.

[Meldawen]

"Indeed," said Eledhe noncommittally, and turned as if to go. This encounter had ceased to interest her. Snagging her shuriken from where it was embedded, quivering slightly, in the wall, the self-assured young mercenary swung round to carelessly appraise Feuer in parting. "Cheers."

Luckily the bartender, whose life had temporarily hung in the balance, was entirely unaware of his narrow escape. Eledhe snagged a mug of ale, took one last sip as if to assure herself it really was hogwash, and made to depart.

[Ven]

[it'd be nice if Denaris said something now, im waiting...]

[RaistlinMajere]

Denaris watched the shuriken whiz through the air with pleasant surprise, then flat out astonishment as Padrone flowed easily to deflect it. Seasoned professionals, both of them. The bearer of Ghost was not as spurious as he first thought. Perhaps he could... in a manner to scout out the Archmage's defenses before the genuine attack...

He cleared his throat and rose to his feet. The barkeep flicked him an irritable glare and hustled over, thinking his services needed. The dark elf was about to wave him away when he reconsidered. Why not? By all accounts humans were fond lovers of drink, but banal ale was below him. "Three glasses of your best wine," he ordered peremptorily. Turning, he called out towards both mercenaries, coughing slightly to mask his elven accent, "My friends! Come join me in congenial companionship!" As a more tempting welcome by far, he raised his bloated coin pouch and jingled it.