sounds good, thanks! :D the more people the better!
dont worry about it :D just lemme know if you wanna get into it, it's gonna be fun when it gets started some more, so now's still a good time to...
hmm well according to my rules no one is required to have a pic to begin with, so its ok :) i have a couple other people who will be starting in a...
well you can still join, not having a pic is ok.
lol hey its all good, dont worry about it. if you have any more room or time eventually let me know :D
room for new pics where? :o
Goldwin frowned, thinking. "I don't know much about that kind of Dragon to be honest," she replied. Trys walked in front of her now, clearing all the noisy, worried people out of the way that were crowding the streets when they heard the news. "Night Furies are almost beyond my level, but... if it killed a boy I'm going to find the damn thing and finish it myself. I can't have an emissary from Moraning here, the country that's supposed to be known for mastering and containing Dragons, and have a citizen killed on my watch. How much farther till we get where you saw it last?" "I can fetch horses for us if they're needed," Trys commented over his shoulder. He knew that the sooner they took care of the situation and kept the rumors under control, the better.
Goldwin cocked her head to the side, not sure if she'd heard the Hunter correctly. "Really, now?" she smiled as they left the castle at a fast pace. "That's odd." She'd trained against almost every breed of Dragon possible for the last ten years of her life, the battle domes along the edge of the city; Numenor had captured plenty of each species captured that they used for training purposes, but a Night Fury was something no one she knew had fought against. "Perfect," she said now, giving Trys an excited look even as he eyed her nervously. "Just the thing I need to take my anger out on... did you say it almost killed someone in the city before flying away?"
Goldwin stopped her quick stride out of the throne room, Trys beside her still. She stared at the man, recognizing him immediately. "Where?" she asked, turning and heading toward the Dragonhunter. Trys put a hand out to stop her, though. "You need to go relay the information you just learned to your parents, Mi'lady," he reminded her quietly. Goldwin shook her head. "That can wait," she argued. "Now," she said, turning back to Boromir, "lead the way. Oh," she added. "You can come if you want, too, Trys."
Goldwin tried her best to compose herself and sit highly in her chair as one of her guards announced the emissary coming into the throne room: "Mi'lady Goldwin of Numenor, this is Robyn of Moraning to see you." She smiled when she saw Trys position himself next to her chair, close enough to touch, his hands folded neatly across his stomach, easily in reach of all of his weapons. Goldwin looked at the man in front of her; he was older, probably twice her twenty or so summers, and dressed in elaborate courtly attire of solid black velvet except for the blood-red crest of Moraning printed on his chest. "Mi'lord Robyn," Goldwin began in greeting, nodding her head respectfully in the man's direction as he reached the foot of the small staircase leading up to the thrones. "Lady Goldwin," the emissary began, bowing slightly. "I was expecting your parents... are they not the rulers of this... country?" Goldwin clenched her teeth, biting her tone back to something formal as she replied: "I'm sorry, sir, but both my parents are still ill and in bed. They were unable to speak with you, but I am here to help you with whatever you have to say." Robyn nodded curtly, though he did not seem pleased. "The Lord of Moraning wishes to pass the word on that several men of yours have been reported in our capitol city conducting some... unlawful procedures." "What on earth could you mean?" Goldwin asked evenly. She could feel Trys tense next to her at the lie as well. "Since you're an... adult, Lady Goldwin," Robyn began suddenly, eyeing her carefully, "I'll be blunt with you; we do not appreciate your land sending spies into our cities to cause trouble and try to brew up false lies about unjust ruling from our Lord." "Sir, I can assure you-" Goldwin began. "I don't need the reassurance of a princess, with all due respect, Mi'lady," the emissary cut in smoothly. "The bottom line of my message and my visit is to let you know that the men you've sent are being or have been dealt with properly; you'd best inform their families that they will not be coming home. The Lord is willing to look over this issue to a certain extent." "And how is that?" Goldwin inquired through gritted teeth, her fists clenched. "Our Lord Michael has decided to not punish your country any further for these issues besides raises your taxes again... by ten percent." "That's insane!" Goldwin snapped, unable to sit still and proper anymore. She sprang out of her chair, grasping the hilt of her sword. "With the way things already are we've given you enough money to last you well through the coming winter, whereas we'll probably starve! Ten percent more and our farmers will die and trade will bring in no profit whatsoever!" "Mi'lady-" Trys began, putting a hand on her shoulder to calm her down and keep her still. The Moraning emissary seemed undeterred. "Would you like me to relay those words to my Lord, Lady Goldwin?" Robyn said smoothly. Goldwin noticed he had made no change or reaction to her change of temperament. Goldwin sighed and sat back down in her mother's throne. "No, sir," she said quietly, biting the inside of her lower lip to settle herself. "Please know that your message have been received and understood; that's all your Lord Michael needs to know. If you wish to stay in Numenor and rest before your return journey you may stay here in the castle; rooms have been prepared for you." "We will see," the emissary replied indifferently. "I think I'll walk around the city first... see how things are going." "Suit yourself," Goldwin muttered, and stood to walk as swiftly as possible out of the throne room before she completely lost her temper. Trys followed her quickly. Gabriel gave the Lord a stiff bow, unhappy with the smell of blood that was coming off his cloak. It didn't matter, though; with the money he'd get, he could buy another, nicer wool coat that could keep him warm in the coming winter. "Thank you, Mi'lord," he replied smoothly. "A poor excuse of a country from the north sending spies down here frankly bugs the hell out of me... he deserved to die, especially since he denied us the information we needed to rightfully prove him a traitor to your crown and bring Numenor down where it belongs." He didn't mean half the words he said, but had to try his best to make them seem genuine in his current situation, especially with the Lord's mind-reading abilities; lying was a trick he'd mastered well, but in here he had to try very hard to be as convincing as possible, even in his head.
Goldwin went to sit up on her father's throne, shutting her eyes and straightening her sword comfortably on her belt. "How long till he gets here?" she asked Trys. "They'll send him in as soon as he gets here, Mi'lady," Trys assured her. "It will only be a few more minutes." Gabriel walked into the throne room, eyeing the man in front of him as respectfully as he could manage. "My Lord," he began. "I'm here to collect the reward for the death of a supposed-Numenorian spy."
"Watch what you say, Mi'lady," Trys warned as he and Goldwin left the salle. "The emissary will understand that your parents are unable to speak, but anything you say they will be held responsible for." "I know," Goldwin replied evenly. "I'm not going to whine like a child at their ridiculous taxes or unlawful rules or the immoral behavior of their soldiers within our borders... though I rightfully should." Trys nodded in agreement. "Don't you want to change into something more... court-appropriate?" he asked now, eying Goldwin's usual, short-skirted, mail-coated training outfit she wore daily. Goldwin snorted. "I'm not getting pretty for a b.astard from a tyrant's country," she spat matter-of-factly. They reached the castle now, and they both climbed the steps up through the main gate and down the hall into the throne room. Gabriel pushed his way through the crowded streets of Moraning up to the Lord's castle; there were many that knew him by name but he ignored any calls that came toward him, especially the frightened ones that wanted to know about the bloodstains on his cloak. He climbed the stairs of the main entrance and was stopped by two guards. "What's your business here, boy?" one of them asked as they both stepped in front of the door. Gabriel lowered his head, giving the man a rude stare fro under his eyebrows. "I'm here to collect what I'm owed," he murmured just loud enough for the guard to hear. "As you can see," he added, gesturing to the blood on his nice cloak. "I deserve a bonus." The guards looked at each other and then moved aside. "He's in the throne room," one began as Gabriel shouldered past them. "But he's not alone." "Oh, perfect," Gabriel smiled. "I love showing off."
"Alright, let's do this," David said resolutely, and climbed to the top of the little hill. He spread out his arms happily, a concentrated smirk on his face. "Alright, what now?"
"Mi'lady," came a voice behind Goldwin. She turned to see her personal guard walking inside the salle looking for her. The man's name was Trys, and he'd been with Goldwin helping her train in the ways of Dragon-hunting as well as behaving correctly in the court and political awareness. "What is it?" she asked, standing up and letting her sword dangle limply in her hand, the tip just running along the straw-covered floor. "You're needed at the castle," Trys replied, a small, perfunctory bow added at the end of the sentence. "Both your parents are still ill in bed and there is an emissary from Moraning coming within the hour." "And it's my job to speak with them?" she grumbled. sheathing her sword angrily. "Gods, it's like they're already dead, isn't it?" Trys frowned, hearing the frustration in her voice. "It's good that your parents have a daughter like you to help ease their passing and you're becoming Lady of Numenor... manipulation of power won't happen with someone like you around. Though it would be better if you had a man and some children to make the throne more secure-" "Not happening any time soon," Goldwin snapped, though not unkindly. "The last thing on my mind is a family... I need to worry about the way things have been going: bad to worse; I've plenty to say to that Moraning emissary when they get here." Gabriel sighed, looking down at his black cloak; it was spattered in the dead man's blood; it would take days to get out. Underneath it he wore only a black, cloth vest covering his bare, muscular chest; he found himself cocky enough to wear just this with worn leather pants every day he went out hunting for the scum that was starting problems. This country is brewing the war all on its own, he thought as he strode out of the alleyway where the wanted man's body lay. Yes, I've pride for this land; yes, I'm proud of all the people I've killed that have pissed me off; yes, the blood magic and dark power makes me stronger than following any of the rules the rest of the light Summoners and Necromancers use. He turned to make his way to the Lord of Moraning's castle to collect his reward; he didn't need a body or a trophy to prove he'd killed the Numenor spy; the Lord had the power to just see his memories of the incident and therefore pay him what he earned easily enough.
Goldwin could hear the guards finally catching up with her, circling the practice arena as they were supposed to. She sighed, sitting up balancing the pommel of her blade on her palm. "Perfectly balanced," she muttered to herself. "Just as it should be." Gabriel sighed, wanting more information out of the man even though he seemed to know too much about his conflicting thoughts. He was tempted to step down on the man's throat and crush the life out of him, but he wasn't that cold-hearted. He drew within his mind for a moment, drawing on his mage power that he'd learned about at the Necromancy Academy. A blue ball of fire sprung to life in his right hand, and he pointed it directly at the man's heart. "Goodbye, then," he murmured. "Even though you didn't talk you'll still fetch a good price from your poster." He sent the fire blazing at the man's heart, burning his flesh down to the vital organ until the man's shrieks subsided and he stopped moving.
OOC: Random Angel- yes, looks good to me, thanks for making the changes :) TwilightBlader- make sure you color-code you character so we can tell which person is which easily at a glance :) your main character can be any color you want thats not taken and side, temporary characters without names (like the one in my last post) dont need color.
OOC: Alright Fayt-Harkwind your character is accepted as well; its all good if its similar to another :) Random Angel: yeah, go ahead and post with the second character for sure; oh and just to confirm there is a "heaven/hell" concept but no beings from either world exist on the mainland :D BIC: Goldwin settled into a corner of the salle, sitting on her knees and sighing. She felt happy to be alone, to think through all the issues she'd been dealing with all morning. There wasn't much she could do; trade was just well enough to keep the country alive and not too many citizens were disappearing without notice. "That's just the way Moraning wants it," she muttered, pulling her sword out of its sheath from her side. The blade was over five feet long, short for a sword with a hand-and-a-half handle that she'd been practicing with for over ten years. The leather was worn but she took good care of the weapon; it was her only levy between life and death when she battled the Dragons just outside the city. Gabriel of Moraning frowned down at the man in front of him, his eyes cold with resentment with a smirk set on his face. He'd been tracking the damn son of a b.itch for days now; his wanted poster had been up for weeks for being suspected of treason to the Lord of Moraning. "I'll ask you one more time," he muttered, his patience almost gone. The man remained resolute even though Gabriel had beaten and cornered him almost an hour ago. "Who are you working for? What country?" The wanted man grinned, blood covering his teeth, several now missing. "Why do you care?" he snapped. "I know who you are; information's my thing. Gabriel the smart-ass kid from the academy that has morality issues... you have problems with the way things are going, don't you?" Gabriel narrowed his eyes and punched the man hard in his upper jaw; he could feel the bone fracture and his fist burned. "What the hell do you know about me? A spy from Numenor, aren't you?" The man didn't cry out from Gabriel's blow; his smile only widened, more crooked and pained now. "Doesn't matter," he cackled, coughing up blood onto Gabriel's cloak. "This country may be rich and powerful with its dark magic but Numenor's aching to get all the world together against you. Join us and we'll have an inside man-" Gabriel threw the man onto the cobblestoned ground, kicking his side and breaking half his ribs; this time his prey did cry out, and Gabriel set his boothell on the man's windpipe, stopping his movement. "B.astard," he snapped. "I may not have much pride in this land but I've got some dignity; tell me who you're working for and what they're planning and I'll kill you fast... won't even make your damnable ghost stick around for a couple hundred years instead of letting you rest." "Sorry, Gabe," the man groaned. "Not gonna happen."
OOC: ok we can get started now and anyone else that wants to join can come in whenever they like :D oh and TwilightBlader, your character is accepted as well ^.^ BIC: Princess Goldwin raised her eyes and sighed, unable to take it anymore; she'd been sitting in the throne room of the castle listening to petitions from the townspeople for hours. This was something both her mother and father should be doing but they were sick in bed and not showing any sign of getting up, let alone running the country, any time soon. All she heard were tales of trouble; harassment from Moraning troops along the trade routes, soldiers taxing and beating citizens, and stealing children and women from cities away from the castle away from her parents' oversight. "Enough," she muttered, and rose from her seat on the steps up to the thrones, motioning for the guards to stop letting anyone else into the throne room. She ran a hand through her short brown hair and straightened her outfit; she refused to wear any courtly attire of dresses, finding short skirts and tunics a much more comfortable and easy outfit to practice in. "I'll be training in the salle," she said to the guards as she headed toward the side door of the throne room. "I need to get rid of some steam."
yeah i love XXXHolic and all the other clamp animes :D the pic is from Hell Girl, a really good anime that's one of my favorites right now :)
lol sure take your time :D no rush at all :D
