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  #61  
Old 01-30-2018, 02:12 AM
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Huern Haive Amiliya'goule is next to finished, sans a question about the druid prompt that could aid the bonus rp.
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  #62  
Old 01-30-2018, 02:52 AM
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Shira Everell
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Name: Shira Everell
Chosen Plot Hook: Priestess
Background: Charlatan
Trait: I greet everyone with a smile and I strive to bring joy to everyone I meet. I rarely give my opinion or share my thoughts with others, steering the conversation elsewhere if I need to.
Bond: I owe everything to the church for my second chance, and I would do anything to repay them for it.
Ideal: Everyone deserves a chance to find the place they belong. Everyone deserves redemption.
Flaw: I still remember the old days, and I have a hard time letting anyone get close. I am bright and cheery all the time because it helps me hide what I am really thinking or feeling.

Appearance: Shira is short and slender woman in her late 20's with pale skin, dark brown eyes and a short black hair. She has a small beauty mark under her left eye and almost always wears a pleasant smile on her lips. During sevices or for formal occasions she wears her formal vestments, but for practical everyday wear she dresses in a grey linen tunic with a weather appropriate under shirt and trousers, her short hair covered with a wimple. Her tunic is clinched to her waist with a wide leather belt and a worn book of prayer rests in an attached leather case ovet her hip. Dangling from her neck is an worn brass icon of Evelyn which on close inspection is older than the young woman who wears it.

Personality: Shira's bright and sunny personality is nearly unwavering. Many take it at face value, and some discount her as being merely simple, but the suspicious would wonder if it's just an act. The truth is a little less simple. Shira desperately wants to be the sunny person she often pretends to be. She is truthful and kind and feels real joy when she helps others. But she is herself guarded and suspicous, and she uses her bubbly personality both to let people underestimate her so she can observe them and to keep them from really knowing what she's thinking or feeling.

Backstory: The most important rule in Shira's house growing up was that she wasn't to talk about her family or how they put food on the table with strangers. Her mother told fortunes and spoke to ghosts and when she was old enough Shira helped make seances more memorable without her mother's clients learing she was there. Her father taught her how to spot the gullible and how to cut a purse just so that the money fell out without distrubing the person wearing it. Her uncle and cousins showed her how to run a three card monte table, and you knew it was honest when a hungry looking little girl could come up and win a couple of silvers for her poor mother. Criminals, conmen, smugglers, and thieves were Shira's friends, family, and teachers growing up among the kingdom's criminal underclass. During the cold winter months they stayed in Kersdinas but summertime come spring they traveled all around the region, going from town to town to bilk the local marks and occasionally to some isolated spit to pick up or drop off some stolen cargo. The worst part for Shira was that people were often actually happy to see them come down the road, not knowing that for all their kind words and pleasant smiles the Everells and their associates considered regular folk nothing more than a bunch of sheep begging to be sheared. And if she ever felt bad about it she learned quickly that she had better keep her mouth shut about that if she didn't want to have something to really feel bad about.

Every few years or so somebody she knew would get caught by the wrong person or at the wrong time and she would have to watch them hang. Every so often she would see the despair in someone's eyes when they realized they had been tricked or robbed. Sometimes Shira didn't get away clean and got scars to remind her to be more careful. Shira wanted to do something else but her family wouldn't hear of it. The one time she tried to get honest work things started to go missing almost immediatly and she was blamed and tossed out. The lesson was clear: she belonged to the family trade.

But Shira never stopped wanting out. And one day as she ran down a familiar escape route, the purse of a fat merchant in her hand and his angry bodyguard at her heels, she turned left instead of right and was left with no place to go but a small church of the Martyr. She burst in hoping to hide and ran smack into the priestess there and that is when Shira couldn't take it anymore, thrusting the purse into the bewildered woman's hands and begging for her help as she broke down sobbing. The bodyguard soon caught up and sent on his way purse in hand. Shira stayed and talked with the priestess long into the night.

Not long after that Shira arrived as a penitent at the Temple, still wearing the clothes she had been in when she spoke with the priestess and clutching a letter of introduction. She was taken in, bathed, and fed before she was brought before the Presbytera. She was told that she had proven that her desire for penance was real and because of that she could earn a place at the temple, far from the grasp of her family, if she could find faith that was just as real. Shira smiled then, and hasn't stopped since.

RP Sample: Shira was out shopping in the market when a boy ran smack into Shira, moving so fast that she didn't even see him until the impact. Both Shira and the boy tumbled to the ground, the young priestess landing hard on her behind as the boy fell on his face, dropping a couple of loaves of bread on the ground.

"Stop! Thief!" came a cry from down the street as a large, bearded man came hustling after with a knobbed cudgel in his hands. While was Shira rising to her feet and rubbing her sore behind the boy scrambled to pick up the bread until he was stopped by the man catching up. The angry merchant stepped on his back pinning him to the ground and making him cry out in pain.

"Got you, you little rat! the man snarled at the boy before looking at the now standing Shira. "Thank you Sister. I'm not sure I would have caught him if not for you."

Shira smiled at the man and nodded demurely. "You're welcome. Now let him up."

The man got a confused look on his face. "Let him up?" he asked uncertainty. "He'll just run. And nobody steals from me without paying the price."

Shira's smile never wavered. "Nothing has been stolen." she declared, "He was simply bringing me my bread, which I am happy to pay for. Now let him up. I won't ask again." she said, crouching down to help the boy up.

The bearded man scoweled, looking from the priestess, to the boy, and back again. "You seem nice sister, but there's no point sticking your neck out for trash like this. Move aside and let me give him what's coming."

Shira responded by standing and planting herself as firmly between the boy and the man as circumstances allowed. "I think I am fine right here." she said, a serene smile on her lips that didn't quite reach her eyes.

The merchant sneered. "Now listen sister, not even the likes of you can stand between a thief and justice. Now stand aside unless you want some yourself." he said, tapping his cudgel menacingly.

Shira gasped. "Now sir, it sounded like you just threatened to strike an unarmed priestess in a crowded market full of witnesses!" she said, much louder than the merchant would have liked. Several sets of eyes turned to look at them. "And I certainly would hate to imagine the Presbytera's response if you actually followed through on such a threat. So I must have misheard you. Did I?"

The merchant gazed around and saw they were being watched, and while he knew there was nothing the church could do legally speaking they certainly could make his life difficult. Reluctantly he lifted his foot. "I'll remember this, sister." he barked angrily.

"I sincerely hope that you do." said Shira unperturbed. She helped the boy gather his bread and sent him away. Once the boy was off running she looked at the man again and said. "It turns out I don't want any bread after all." before walking away, leaving the man to fume.

Bonus RP: Shira sat quietly in contemplation as she watched the fires wink out. It was never a peaceful time for Shira, for she knew as most slumbered her family and those like them would still be up and up to no good. The sound of the Presbytera's footsteps behind her startled her, but she did her best not to show it, following her inside. Shira immediately started helping as the Presbytera started packing a bag, bewildered why it she had been the one chosen to head out. At least until the elder priestess mentioned trust. If you didn't know who you could trust, then why not send the priestess most familiar with decit. The Presbytera knew all about the troubled past beneath Shira's sunny exterior.

"I am honored Mother, and I will be the soul of discretion." said Shira as she stuffed food into her pack and then rushed to meet the wagon. She looked at the chest and her thoughts immediately went to a shell game. If Shira had been Presbytera she would send out as many chests as possible, each of them thinking that they had the true artifact. Part of Shira wished it were true, that whatever her mission was it wasn't just on her shoulders. Another part was rather pleased that her penance had been rewarded with real trust. "I will guard it with my life. she said, climbing into the wagon and putting on one of her most comforting smiles. "I will see it through, Presbytera, thank you." she said with her voice full of confidence and her thoughts far less so.

Last edited by mrtowne; 01-30-2018 at 03:13 PM.
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  #63  
Old 01-30-2018, 08:34 AM
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Old 01-30-2018, 08:43 AM
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Old 01-30-2018, 12:26 PM
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Old 01-30-2018, 01:08 PM
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Old 01-30-2018, 02:01 PM
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Old 01-30-2018, 02:12 PM
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“The last thing he ever said to me was, 'Just always be waiting for me, and then some night you will hear me crowing.”
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Old 01-30-2018, 03:14 PM
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My background has been tweaked to fit in a bit better.
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Old 01-31-2018, 04:40 PM
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Alrighty right, druid-boy is cooked to the full tenderness now. Huern can be considered complete pending review.
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Old 01-31-2018, 05:32 PM
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Posting interest!

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Old 01-31-2018, 06:39 PM
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Old 01-31-2018, 11:24 PM
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Bartholomew Orthis: The Paladin


Nicknames: “Lew” or “Lo-man”
Background: The Outlander
Trait: I once ran twenty-five miles without stopping to warn my clan of an approaching elf raid. I’d do it again if I had to.
Bond: I suffer awful visions of a coming disaster and will do anything to prevent it.
Ideal: Greater Good – it is each person’s responsibility to make the most happiness for the whole tribe.
Flaw: I am slow to trust members of other races, tribes, and societies.

Appearance:
Lew wears his clothes properly and well. He dedicates time to their upkeep. He shines his boots and brushes his cloak. He washes his tunics and slacks regularly, at least once a week. And he’s clean-shaven with hair close trimmed. Standing out like sacrilege to this clean-cut front is a tusk on a leather strap that hands around his neck and over his chainmail. He is free with the information, however: it’s a trophy from the huge hog, a giant wild boar, the first creature he killed for the family. His father helped him track it, but the kill was all his own. And he butchered it for the family himself too.

Personality:
There isn’t much in the way of support when you live in the wilderness. Even as homesteaders, with a small collection of families, every person who can walk must help. He learnt early and well from his father that one was to pick up the largest load he could carry (“but nothing heavier!”) and bare that burden. Holding a burden and carrying a load is his whole life’s dedication and he deeply dislikes those who shirk but outright loathes those who do not live up to their potential and yet still expect accolades for their achievements. Give him an honest and forthright cripple over a beautiful and talented rake. Recently he has often woken damp in the night from terrible visions of an impending catastrophe, the type of chaos and cataclysm that strikes only the unprepared. These visions have spurred him on even more, to the point where he might in fact be getting a bit unbearable to his Spear-Brothers.


Backstory:
Bartholomew grew up in the Northwest wilderness, on the banks of the Flehost, only several miles from where it meets Evoss. His parents, Nathan and Bridget, were homesteaders with several other families. Tired of the city and the dishonesty and deception to be found in the crowd, his parents raised him and his siblings, James and Miriam, in the clean and open air. There they grew and prospered. So did their little settlement. They were just putting in a shrine.

Before his sixteenth birthday, Lew, his father, and James had set out on a hunting trip. They’d found some tracks and an old camp midway through the day. But no people. Just before they were again to set off, though, his father spotted something. It was a small stone and a tail-feather from a golden eagle. He had just enough time to shout, “Elves, run!” before an arrow found its way into his chest.

He did manage, though, to throw himself to the side, covering his sons, and that is the only reason Bartholomew lives. They chased the boys, driving them south. At the river, Lew told James to follow him. He jumped into the river and used it to carry him West. James too tried, but got caught in the rocks. Before Lew could turn to help him out, the elven arrows found him.

Lew kept going, but the five elves chased him all the way back to the settlement where a great battle between settlers and invaders raged. Fifteen settlers died, a clear half of the town which included nine children. Miriam had almost been one of them, but their mother smashed the elf over the head with a large walking stick. Snapping the leather strap from the back of his neck, Lew then smashed his tusk into the elf’s neck.

For as long as Lew lived, he would never forget the village’s reaction. Though the eyes of half of them were closed forever, though many had lost a spouse and more had lost children and siblings, most never thought to blame him or banish his family. They were happy he was safe. They praised him for the quick thinking that saved three others. The whole little tribe of them stuck around for another winter, but there was nothing doing, not anymore.

When the snows melted, they packed up all their belongs, burnt their houses so the elves couldn’t have them and even set fire to the forest as a parting gift. They headed back to Kersdinas. There most of them still live, crowded into a poorer district, but still together and still tight-knit. They took up carpentry and most of them stayed in that profession. The children of Nathan Orthis did not.

Miriam took up midwifery and works as a healer for the whole district. Lew found his way into the religion for whose hero he was named. Taking up a sword and shield in service to the whole community, the whole Kingdom, his very religion. He still finds his way home when he can and over the holy-days. Together, Mimi and Lew take up whatever burden their mother can no longer carry and make it lighter for her. Then they part with laughter and happy tears and go back to their own burdens and their own joys.

 


 


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Last edited by LinguaManiac; 02-02-2018 at 09:33 PM. Reason: Nah. I figured we should all just play. Sorry.
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  #74  
Old 02-01-2018, 10:31 AM
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Old 02-01-2018, 10:37 AM
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So, to all interested parties, applications will officially close tomorrow morning 2/2 at around 6am EST.

The submitted applications are all fantastic and I think I'm gladly going to take more than one group.
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