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Post by Demitraeus Dehlfvaen on Mar 15, 2018 8:24:45 GMT -5
Destrian turned to follow Thayer after a final nod to Bumor, thinking for a moment. "Whatever is next on your list," he said with a shrug, "We've got time, so let's cover as much as we can."
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Post by Demitraeus Dehlfvaen on Mar 15, 2018 10:15:33 GMT -5
///Yep, that's fine ^.^///
Destrian followed along, listening as Thayer explained the different parts of camp and their functions. Walking wasn't bad with the crutch, even though he couldn't quite move at normal speed, he didn't really have to put any weight on his injured leg, so pain was at a minimum. As they went around, he was able to formulate a rough visual idea of the layout in his mind, as well as learned some things about the camp and Order Prime as a whole.
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*Nightwhisper
"And guilty I may be, but don't give up on me... We will still be thick as thieves."
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Post by *Nightwhisper on Mar 15, 2018 10:35:20 GMT -5
It was slow progress, but by the mid-day mark, they were able to work their way make to the outdoor pavilion that served as a make-shift dinning hall. The morning had been spent showing him the safer of places: the sleeping quarters, to blacksmiths, the armory and weapons tent, the tents were most of the supplies were kept. While the last one wasn't too fascinating, it was good for him to know. He might be asked to retrieve something from there one day. A lot of refugees spent their days and messengers, caring notes and completing small tasks for various people in the camp. They weren't necessarily paid in money, but they were ensured they were given some supplies they might need in order to stay comfortable. Not to mention it gave them something to do.
"How are you holding up?" Thayer asked, turning to Destrian as they neared the cook fires. The smell of roasting meat filled the air, causing nearly half the camp to flock to the area, waiting for the food to be served. Even though they were still several feet away, she could tell they got here at a bad time. The line was already formed and most of the tables were filled.
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Post by Demitraeus Dehlfvaen on Mar 16, 2018 9:34:40 GMT -5
"Doing fine," Destrian said with a smile. In truth, he was quite ready to sit down for rest and food, but there wasn't any harm in showing a little toughness. He could understand why everyone seemed to be gathering, the cookfires smelled incredible, but he wished they had arrived a bit sooner. It might be hard to find a good place to sit now.
He let his gaze take in all the people, to get a feel for the composition of the camp. There were more Elves and Dwarves than he had expected, almost equaling the Humans so that each race seemed represented evenly. The Rebellion truly was a gathering of all people of the lands against the King...
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Post by Demitraeus Dehlfvaen on Mar 16, 2018 10:19:37 GMT -5
///xD the foreshadowing is real ///
Destrian nodded, and headed for the table. Although it was crowded, nobody really jostled anyone or tried to force their way through, people moved and flowed around each other where they could, or stepped aside and waited if need be. Most everyone gave him a bit of room and two even asked if he needed any help, but he made it to the table relatively easily on his own.
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*Nightwhisper
"And guilty I may be, but don't give up on me... We will still be thick as thieves."
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Post by *Nightwhisper on Mar 16, 2018 14:13:46 GMT -5
(Lol, you don't stand in the way of hungry soldiers and food. The Royal Soldiers aren't going to stand a chance. XD)
Thayer made sure that the man was able to make it to the table without a problem. No one here would give him any trouble, she was sure of that. She was mostly watching out for signs that his leg was holding up. When he was safely seated, the woman wove her way towards the ever growing line. It wasn't her first time arriving at such a time, so she knew how to work her way through the ranks that would hopefully allow her to receive food faster. That is, if she talked with the right people. She had friends who wouldn't mind letting her squeeze in between them, or people she could sweet talk. It was a fun challenge in her opinion, a chance to brush up all that social graces she was taught growing up. Before long, she was already halfway up the line, laughing with a couple of scouts she trained with.
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Post by Demitraeus Dehlfvaen on Mar 17, 2018 18:29:59 GMT -5
///I guess you could update the front page now lol, might be nice to have all the info together for reference///
Destrian watched Thayer for a moment with a smile as she wriggled her way up the line. Charm, such a useful thing in life. He could probably do with some sharpening of his own wit and general social edge, he mused. His mind wandered back in memory to a time not long ago where that might have been his biggest concern. Telling jokes, convincing people of favors, even just chattering with friends... He frowned unconsciously.
Three months it had been since Maerwynn had told him of her feelings for him, and he had returned the words immediately. He'd promised himself at the end of the third to wait another three months before truly considering marriage, but his gut had wrenched about so much, he had been halfway to her father's house to discuss it two times before he'd forced himself to turn back, to wait. Maybe it was best that his intentions hadn't fully blossomed yet when that terrible night came. It truly did hurt to think of it that way, but it only would have hurt him more if they had been closer in any way. Hands folded in front of him and face twisted in frustration, staring down at the table, he noticed nothing around himself, lost in his thoughts.
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*Nightwhisper
"And guilty I may be, but don't give up on me... We will still be thick as thieves."
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Post by *Nightwhisper on Mar 18, 2018 14:14:00 GMT -5
(I need to do that, don't I? XD Give me a bit and I'll do that.
EDIT: Okay, I've put up the character's and updated the Army name. Is there anything else I should add?)
Ten minutes passed and Thayer was just about to reach the Elven woman serving the food when a commotion broke out. Voices raised in angry shouts, and the sound of weapons being drawn filled the air. The woman turned around to find the source of the outbreak. Since she was on the shorter side, it took her a moment before she was able to find an opening in which to see clearly from. When she got a clear look, however, dread filled her. All thoughts of food left her mind as she pushed through the crowd to where she left Destrian.
Entering from the eastern side of the pavilion, from the "main" road through the camp, a party of six Royal Soldiers were being escorted through camp. It wasn't unusually to have people escorted through this way; the road cut was the quickest way to the battle masters and overseers tents. It was just rare to have Royal Soldiers being the ones escorted through. Whatever was going on was certainly not normal and justified the multiple weapons now out in the open. Yet in the crowded space, it would have been unwise for anyone to actually try and use them.
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Post by Demitraeus Dehlfvaen on Mar 18, 2018 17:20:12 GMT -5
///Hmm, can't think of anything else currently. Looks good though!///
Destrian was finally pulled from his isolated brooding by shouts coming from nearby, and that causing quite a stir in the people gathered. He looked around, confused for a moment, and pushed himself to a standing position, using the table for balance. What he saw filled him with mixed emotions of fear, anger, and more confusion. A group of Royal Soldiers were being escorted down the road through the camp, and close to nobody looked happy about it; more than a few people had weapons half-drawn or even fully out and ready, though fighting in closed quarters like this couldn't end well. He looked around for Thayer; maybe she knew what was going on.
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*Nightwhisper
"And guilty I may be, but don't give up on me... We will still be thick as thieves."
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Post by *Nightwhisper on Mar 18, 2018 18:41:14 GMT -5
(Great! If you think of anything, let me know. ^^ )
Thayer, in fact, did not know what was going on, but she had a feeling that this wasn't a friendly visit. She reached Destrian just as the crowd parted down the center, revealing the five main Marshals of the camp, one for each race represented in the kingdom. None was more revered than the other, and if there was a decision to be made, they all had to come to some agreement. A page had been sent ahead to warn the Marshals of the newcomers, and, not wanting them in their private tents, they decided to meet the Royal soldiers halfway. They were hoping to reach them before they made it to the pavilion, but that obviously didn't happen.
(How many races should there be? I know we're using humans, elves, and dwarfs. Are we using Orcs as well? And what should be the other? Or should there just be four?)
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Post by Demitraeus Dehlfvaen on Mar 19, 2018 9:58:14 GMT -5
///Orcs sounds good for the fourth. After some rummaging through lists of Mythicals, I couldn't find much, but I did come up with an idea or two. One would be canine-like humanoids, not werewolves but just humanoids with fur, long teeth, enhanced senses, etc. Or maybe a different animal-humanoid if you have something that could work better///
"Thayer!" Destrian said when she arrived next to him. "What's happening?" he gripped the crutch tightly, looking wildly back and forth between the Royal Soldiers, the Marshals, and her. For some reason he felt unnecessarily overwhelmed at the moment, with his heart speeding up and his breathing not cooperating despite efforts to stay calm.
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*Nightwhisper
"And guilty I may be, but don't give up on me... We will still be thick as thieves."
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Post by *Nightwhisper on Mar 19, 2018 17:19:43 GMT -5
(Hmmm, we could use the Fae. There are a lot of different things that are considered Fae, more than just faeries and leprechauns. There are the satyr (like in Narnia, the half-man, half-goat creatures,). If I'm correct, and I may not, but there might be other half-human, half-creatures a part of that race. They could be the lesser know, eldest race. Seeing them might be pretty rare, but we could have a few scattered here and there. That way, we technically wouldn't see them often, but if an opportunity in the plot arises, we could bring them out to had drama or action or lore to the plot.)
"I don't know," Thayer admitted, looking over her shoulder to where the escorting party had stopped. "Whatever it is, it's go everyone riled up." Now she wished she had her bow. The woman had left her weapon of choice back in her tent since she wasn't going to be leaving the camp. As far as she had planned, her time was to be spent showing Destrian around. Never did she expect any threats to arise in that time. Now, however, she was painfully aware of how bare she felt without the bow in her hand and quiver at her shoulder. She still had a pair of knives hanging from her belt, but they were a last resort kind of weapon. "We may have to make a run for it. Those soldiers would be foolish to try anything, surrounded as they are, but who knows what they have up their sleeve. If nothing else, you may have to be prepared to make a dive between the tents behind us."
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Post by Demitraeus Dehlfvaen on Mar 23, 2018 16:16:03 GMT -5
///I kinda like that idea, satyrs are cool. I'm fine with that, better than my idea anyways xD
I'll hopefully get a chance to reply to RP later tonight///
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Post by Demitraeus Dehlfvaen on Mar 28, 2018 18:03:33 GMT -5
///bleh, my brain has been so freaking scattered. I've been meaning to get back to this, just one rabbit hole of things after another have been devouring my time and energy.
The Fae is a cool idea though. Maybe there are several of the different types in the world, but they classify themselves as a group for simplicity. Also I've put maybe a bit too much effort into my other characters xD, I'm sending you a PM with a family tree. I have yet to type up the descriptions, but they're half-brothers, one is a dwarf and the other half dwarf, half human. A cool bit of lore I thought up: Dwarves only really use their family names in super-formal Dwarven occasions when differentiating between families is important. Also, they are named with a first name at birth, and can earn a Second name (basically a middle name with some amount of respect and meaning in it) during adolescence or early adulthood if they do something very memorable like killing a dangerous predator or performing a selfless act to help others. Again, me overthinking backstories/lore ///
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Post by Demitraeus Dehlfvaen on Mar 28, 2018 20:42:38 GMT -5
Destrian gave a tight nod, and glanced around. Most everyone seemed on edge, but he couldn't explain why he felt it so much more than necessary. All he could do was wish to himself that he weren't here, that this wasn't happening, that none of the things in the past several days had happened...
///It feels insignificant for how long I took X.x but at least it's something I guess Also, I'm having him have a bit of a panic attack. It's interestingly something I don't think I've really ever read before in stories, and a flaw that I think will be cool to write about///
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Post by Demitraeus Dehlfvaen on Mar 28, 2018 20:48:42 GMT -5
///O.o I just noticed you put the second half of Destrian's description twice xD might wanna fix that ///
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*Nightwhisper
"And guilty I may be, but don't give up on me... We will still be thick as thieves."
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Post by *Nightwhisper on Mar 29, 2018 18:23:05 GMT -5
(If you want to be any of the Marshals or the Royal Soldiers, feel free to do so. I don't mind if you want to rp more than just Destrian. If not, that's fine too.)
"What business do you have here?" a low, baritone voice sounded. While the man hadn't shouted hadn't shouted, but he had a voice that carried across the noisy pavilion and hushing the murmuring voices of the rebels. The owner of the voice was a tall human male. Standing 6'4", barrel chested, the Marshals was an intimidating figure. Underneath his plain linen shirt and leather vest, the vague presence of thick, well defined muscles on his arms. Strapped to his back was a large battle ax. It was rare to see the man without it.
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Post by Demitraeus Dehlfvaen on Apr 1, 2018 23:11:02 GMT -5
///oops, here have a reply///
Standing a pace behind the man who had spoken, and just off to the side, was a slim Elven woman clothed in rich greens and blues. A short sword hung at her hip and a slightly oblong buckler on her back. Despite the deadly aura she gave off, she was really quite pretty, long pale blonde hair pulled into three intricate braids, and her blue eyes sparkling as they flickered over the Royal Soldiers. The Elf Marshal seemed only to defer momentary command to the Human because of him being closer to the visitors, who were all human.
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*Nightwhisper
"And guilty I may be, but don't give up on me... We will still be thick as thieves."
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Post by *Nightwhisper on Apr 3, 2018 8:40:16 GMT -5
The other three Marshals were of similar style to the Human and Elf. Standing on the Elf's right was a Dwarven man. He had all of the characteristics of his his brethren, 4'3", stocky build that was more big bones and muscles than body fat, hair cut short that wasn't sure if it wanted to be brown or red in shade, and several scars were scattered across his face and arms. His state of dress was probably the most dingier and worn than the others, but that was because the man liked to spend his free time in the smithies, helping to create and repair more weapons for the ever growing army. His face, as usual, was set in an unreadable scowl.
On the other side was the Orc Marshal. Towering over the rest of the group, he was the first one anyone notices when the Marshals appear before a crowd. Standing well over seven feet high, his grey skin, piercing brown eyes, yellow stained fangs, and the heavy morning star hanging from his hip, it was no surprise most people tended to step carefully in his presence. It wasn't his race that was intimidating, however. Many of the soldiers here had seen the Marshal in battle, and no one wanted to have those skills turned against them.
The last Marshal was a bit of more... unnerving. Much like the Elf Marshal, the last woman stood, the picture of grace. At a distance, she appeared to be a normal human, maybe even half-human and half-elf by the way she was built. However, upon closer inspection, one could pick out things that did not belong. Long, straight white hair seemed to float around her on some unknown breeze. Pale skin glowed with a faint yellow light, as if the sunshine had gathered together, unwilling to touch her skin. In contrast to her pale looks, her eyes were completely black. There was no pupils or irises, just solid black orbs set into a heart shaped face. The woman was bare foot and clad in thin silk which wasn't really formed into any distinct item of clothing. It was just as if she grabbed the fabric, rolled it around herself to cover what needed to be covered, and then stopped. Certain not a person who might be ready for a fight. She hung back behind all the rest, waiting and watching.
"We have come on behalf of his Majesty, King Perrin, with the offer of negotiation," the Royal Soldier at the front of the line called out. From several places in the assembled crowd, jeers, scornful laughs, and cries of outrage rose. The solider ignored these interruptions. "We are here to parlay on his behalf."
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Post by Demitraeus Dehlfvaen on Apr 9, 2018 16:01:25 GMT -5
"Your 'king' forsook the chance of negotiation when he enslaved five races of peoples and locked our lands under his iron grip," the Elf Marshal spoke up. "If he wants to negotiate, he'll need to crawl to us on his belly like a worm, like should have happened long ago." Her eyes were alight with anger now, but she still stood back.
Destrian only heard half of the words being spoken, staring at the air a pace in front of him and rotating his grip on the crutch, a harsh frown twisting his face.
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*Nightwhisper
"And guilty I may be, but don't give up on me... We will still be thick as thieves."
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Post by *Nightwhisper on Apr 9, 2018 16:36:20 GMT -5
The atmosphere was thick now with the mixture of hate, anger, and tension pouring from everyone who was gathered. A couple of the Royal Soldiers even shifted on their feet at the words spoken by the Elf. Only the commander of the group seemed unfazed. He meet the five gazes of the Marshal with barely hidden contempt. "Normally, His Majesty would never stoop so low as to extend the invitation of a negotiation to the likes of you," the man said. "However, this is kind of negotiation was one he could come to terms with."
All at once, it was as if a switch had been flipped. Every member of the Royal Soldiers in the group drew their weapons and flung themselves at the nearest rebel. Before anyone had time to react, ten men fell dead to the ground. Outraged cries and the sound of steel scraping leather filled the air as everyone closest to the enemy took up their own weapons, leaping for the chance to be the ones to cut down the killers first.
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Post by Demitraeus Dehlfvaen on Apr 25, 2018 14:05:06 GMT -5
///Ugh, the motivation and inspiration deities must have a vendetta against me. I can't seem to stay focused on the things I want to write for any length of time. Sorry for not saying anything, I've just been hoping the inspiration would come back but it still hasn't///
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Post by Demitraeus Dehlfvaen on Jun 1, 2018 10:28:52 GMT -5
Destrian felt as if his muscles were not his own, his body rigid but his mind flailing itself into putty. Several people were pushing their way past him, the knot of bloody chaos twisting and writhing about in a way that made it impossible to tell what was happening.
The Elf Marshal had been shoved back by the falling body of one of the first men to die, and even as she leaped nimbly away from the slashing blades of the Royal Soldiers, three more of the rebels were running themselves dead onto the enemy. A loud yet somehow still elegant curse erupted from her lips as she spun her way through the fray, catching one of the soldiers hard in the side of the head with the pommel of her short sword; she dare not swing the blade in such close quarters with the others. He went down, but the deadly dance crushed in, forcing her leaping back away from the heat of the fight.
Destrian was sure that there must be noise, but only incoherent thoughts echoed loudly in his mind. He felt sweat drenching his face and his knuckles cracking with the crutch in his grip, but those and even the mass of bodies shoving him stumbling backwards seemed miles away.
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*Nightwhisper
"And guilty I may be, but don't give up on me... We will still be thick as thieves."
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Post by *Nightwhisper on Jun 1, 2018 12:15:37 GMT -5
The entire fight scene lasted only a mere twenty seconds in total. Yet in those seconds, twenty-five bodies laid on the ground. It took a bit before the sounds of the fight died away, everyone still registering that the enemy had thoroughly been subdued before the crowd backed away from the dead. Silence followed, but it didn't stay for long. "Who is injured?" the human Marshal, whose name is Artur Clasen, called to those around him. He had thrown himself into the fray, but the battle ax had stayed strapped to his back. It would have been foolish to draw such a weapon when there were so many people around. So instead, he had settled for using his fists. The man managed a couple of hits to a solider before someone else ran a blade through them. He turned his head, found a young page a the edge of the pavilion, and sent him to find the Healer.
Thayer had pushed the man she was guarding into a small space between some barrels and an empty crates and placed herself in front of Destrian, her pair of knives drawn and ready to use if any of the Royal Soldiers managed to break free and head their way. Luckily, that didn't happened. When Clasen's shout reached her ears, the young woman relaxed. "It's over," she told her companion. There were still plenty of people fleeing the place, but the chaos had faded. She turned to face him. "Are you alright? You didn't reopen any wounds?"
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