The Legacy of Fjánnin

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Re: The Legacy of Fjánnin

Post by Dirty Spaceman »

Took me a while, but here it is!
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Name: Benlyn "Ben" Fendell
Age: 26
Race: Erius
Gender: Male
History: The Fendells were once a well-respected line of soldiers in Donton, but after the Disaster occurred, Ben's ancestor Denis took the family out of the city for their safety. They set up a small isolated farm in the Heartlands, which they have worked for the past few generations and on which Ben grew up. When he turned 18, however, his father decided that Ben should go reclaim his family's reputation, and sent him to Isgaragoth with a sizable amount of money. This Ben used to buy a small house and pay for training. He tried out different kinds of weapons during the first few months of training, but soon found that he was best with bows and crossbows. He was also fairly proficient with a few other weapons and forms of combat, but he always preferred a crossbow. Three years ago, he managed to join the guards of Isgaragoth, and has slowly been working his way up the ranks since then.
Appearance: Ben is rather thin but fit, with a fairly average height (only about 5'11''). He has messy, shoulder-length black hair, and wide, dark green eyes. His face is quick to smile, and he carries himself with confidence.
Personality: Ben is the rare kind of person who knows who he is, and is content with his lot in life. He is generally easygoing, lighthearted, and kind to others. He likes to joke around, and only takes the most solemn of things seriously. He believes in honour, but has few ambitions beyond winning respect as a soldier and having a family, and he has no aspirations of glory or fame.

Skills:
[*] Archery – 10
[*] Crossbow – 10
[*] Direct Magic – 0
[*] Indirect Magic – 0
[*] Spiritual Magic – 0
[*] Spears – 8
[*] Swords – 6
[*] Axes & Hammers – 1
[*] Greatswords & Warhammers – 1
[*] Hand-to-Hand – 6

[*] Shield – 4 (+1 with palisades)
[*] Block – 1
[*] Light Armour – 8
[*] Medium Armour – 0
[*] Heavy Armour – 0
[*] Armourer – 2
[*] Survival – 3

Class: Crossbowman
Armour and Equipment: Brown leather cuirass, greaves, and boots, a black leather belt, and a small all-purpose storage pouch affixed to the belt.
Weapons: A good-quality crossbow and twenty iron-tipped bolts, and a steel dagger at his belt. He also owns a wooden bow and fifteen iron arrows, but he keeps those in his home.
Spells: N/A
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Re: The Legacy of Fjánnin

Post by POMC S117 »

Perfect. Accepted. :P
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Re: The Legacy of Fjánnin

Post by POMC S117 »

I'm thinking of having this start near the 15th. How does that sound?
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Re: The Legacy of Fjánnin

Post by Hissien »

Works for me
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Re: The Legacy of Fjánnin

Post by The SheoDovah »

Works for me as well! Am looking forward to starting it and i fully believe this Navar will be likeable.
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Re: The Legacy of Fjánnin

Post by Witchery »

Works for me!
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Re: The Legacy of Fjánnin

Post by Rook »

Fine by me!
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Re: The Legacy of Fjánnin

Post by Dirty Spaceman »

Start the groove.
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Re: The Legacy of Fjánnin

Post by Rook »

Dear EpicAbrad,

Posting links or pictures for the sake of advertisement is against the rules and considered spamming. Please remember this in the future.

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Re: The Legacy of Fjánnin

Post by Dirty Spaceman »

I'm sorry, I was just trying to show my staunch support for the McDonald's application process.
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Re: The Legacy of Fjánnin

Post by Thuro Pendragon »

Can you take me off the list. I'm not actually interested in RPing after trying it out. Sorry POMC.
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Re: The Legacy of Fjánnin

Post by The SheoDovah »

I forgot that the 15th is on a saturday. It's still good for me but i won't start untill the evening as i am working at the charity shop that day. Just giving you all a heads up. :)
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Re: The Legacy of Fjánnin

Post by POMC S117 »

Sorry for the delay. The RP will be starting later today. Is that acceptable?
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Re: The Legacy of Fjánnin

Post by Hissien »

Excellent.
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Re: The Legacy of Fjánnin

Post by The SheoDovah »

Works for me and i think it works for everyone else due to it being a Sunday. Would prefer to start it before 11pm today.
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Re: The Legacy of Fjánnin

Post by Witchery »

Good for me too :) I look forward to it.
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Re: The Legacy of Fjánnin

Post by POMC S117 »

Spoiler:
This is just going to be an introduction of the Kingdom of Arag. You are welcome to introduce your characters after this post and it would be helpful if you could direct them towards the inn of Isgaragoth. I'm still going to be accepting characters during this stage of the RP. The plot won't be advanced until at least tomorrow.
The Kingdom of Arag

It had been one hundred and sixty-five years since the end of the world and the beginning of the new one. While the world appeared much the same, only darker and gloomier and with a large shadow cast over it that extended north of Mithraleen, where once was brightness and joy, none doubted that it was a different place entirely. Ruins stood as testament to old towns and cities, but all who saw them knew them to be fake and false. The lands south of Eusiac, Afrik, once connected by a strip of land near Sepilonica, was gone, replaced by an unending sea. To the east, Mesicarid, had gone. In its stead was a rough and untamed land, wild and unsightly, filled with the howling of wolves and the fluttering of bats, continuing on in doom and desolation until the land joined the innumerable ocean. Only Eusiac remained, and it had not gone unchanged by the shifting madness of fate.

Darker days had not been seen since soon after the birth of the world, went the valiän knights were beset by orkish hordes and the glittering wealth of the land clashed against the darkest corruptions of Norkel and of them no stories were known to the people, save a few of the educated, who were few in the time after the Mithraleenean Empire fell for the last time.

Though there was cause for celebration in the land of Arag, their greatest enemy in decades vanquished by a great hose not seen for many a year, the smart and foreseeing of the realm saw only spiralling chaos and darkness, that flitted in the white of their eye for seconds of the day, before hiding in the impenetrable shadow of uncertainty. Indeed, they had steeled themselves for some time against what was to come, but little did they know of the horror that would await them. The politics of the world were cause for concern and the Kingdom of Arag was ever certain of being dragged into a bloody conflict against either their fellows in Fjorr or the Imperial Senate, which masqueraded as the successor to the Mithraleenean Empire, though it lacked all of its greatness and sacredness. Yet, the horror was not of mortal doing and the sleeping darkness of Norkel, awoken from his hibernation with the weakening of Lokve and of the betrayal in places no mortal could walk, crept once again in active evil.

Isgaragoth was a bustling town, with smoke that marred the clear blue skies that were common in the north of Eusiac. While in the far south of the continent, one could go for days and see only ash and smoke and the gloom of their doom, the north was vibrant and clear. The wind bent the trees back and forth, the green of the branch waving slowly in mesmerising motion. Small boats were in the rushing river, carrying supplies to and from the port, which sat in great position in the politics of the world, for it saw many tons of food and weapons and untempered iron and copper and brass every year. A few caravans even entered the city through the four main gates at each cardinal point along the stretch of wall that covered the houses in protective glance, though they were only few for many would not dare to walk the roads of the land even this far from battle. Rumours of orks and wolves and goblins in the lands surrounding Arag were rife within tavern and street and many a person swore, though in drunken stupor, that they had been beset and waylaid by such creatures, though the reason for them living was fraught with lies and downright insobriety.

In one particular inn sat many people, their attention drawn the the words of one man, the words of great value, the great value stemming from their nature. Their nature was the death of a well-respected general, the most-beloved of the people. Fjánnin, son of Róm, Marshall of Arag and second only to the Queen in all matters of combat and conflict had been slain in most cowardly and unnatural circumstances. He had been found by his son, Fjónnin, as skilful as his deceased father but with a wild gaze and wild hair that comes with being smart but not wise, with a dagger in his back. There was no sign of struggle and none suspected that there would be, for all things pointed that he had been slain in his sleep. None could doubt the murderer's rationality, for Fjánnin was the greatest in skill of sword in all lands for miles, but all were horrified by his cowardice. And many of these people were horrified enough to seek vengeance and that is why they had gathered in the tavern.
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Re: The Legacy of Fjánnin

Post by Hissien »

Aly'trra in the Tavern in question sitting by the hearth

Aly'trra had traveled far to this tavern in search of Fjonnin in part to pay her respects and in part to repay her life-debt. As it stood now she doubted the young man had even noticed her presence, save for a few curious glances she was largely anonymous or so she felt with some manner of confidence. She had a book of spells open in her lap, ancient recipes of magic and power, her grimoire was coded of course only she could read and fluently and few could claim to understand even a hint of it. Still. She was careful not to be seen clearly, she would catch Fjonnin alone, or not at all. She could wait.
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Re: The Legacy of Fjánnin

Post by The SheoDovah »

In one of the inns in Isgaragoth was elven woman sitting by herself in the corner and a white owl. The woman's name was Navariësé. "I'm thankful that you are still with me." Navariësé said to her companion, Oderúr as she stroked him. He gave a soft hoot as he was being stroked by his elven friend. He flew up to her shoulder and landed on it afterwards before nibbling on her ear out of affection. "I know and i'll figure something out. But i'll understand if you want to leave my side." She said to him before the owl flew ontop of her head.
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Bold is erm.. ah, damnit, i can't remember the language name but it's a rare language.
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Re: The Legacy of Fjánnin

Post by Rook »

Regis had been reclining in a tavern chair when he caught sight of the elf and her unusual pet. He watched it for a few seconds before a thought popped into his head.

"Wighed. Yes, that would be a good name for it."

He then turned his eyes to Fjónnin.

"So he's the son of Fjánnin, huh? He does look the part. But why is he here of all places?"
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Re: The Legacy of Fjánnin

Post by POMC S117 »

The Tavern

Indeed, it was a good question. There were many inns and taverns within the city. In fact, there were so many that even if all the other taverns in all the other cities of Fjorr were accounted for, there would be only a slight difference in number. But, there was a special significance in this tavern. Not only was it located close to the docks and sure to attract many patrons, from all places of the world (there had recently been some merchants from Palmu, that had taken with them many bodyguards who looked as though they could be tempted from the boring and mundane life in Palmu to one of adventure in the far north), but also was it the tavern most frequented by Fjánnin who, on many occasions, had bought drinks for all the patrons. Thus, was he considered a friend of the people and, particularly, of those who went to taverns.

But, as taverns of that sort do, they attracted much rabble and noise and the wine and ale flowed freely (despite the sudden and unexplained price increase on behalf of the tavern-keeper). Some of them had begun to make rude gestures in the direction of any female that they spotted and Navariësé, looking a strange and queer sight with a bird perched upon her head, received much of the attention, despite being sat in a corner.
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Re: The Legacy of Fjánnin

Post by The SheoDovah »

Navariësé noticed the pointing and sighed. "Let's go to the room." She said to Oderúr as she stood up. He gave a soft hoot and the elf started to make her way towards her rented room.
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Bold is Gor...goraty...something begining with G. It's very unlikely someone else knows it. POMC allowed me to use the language because...erm.... I can't remember.
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Re: The Legacy of Fjánnin

Post by POMC S117 »

The Tavern
Spoiler:
Gotárÿé.
The catcalls and cacophony only got worse as Navariësé stood up and began the ascent upstairs, provoking some of the more daring drunkards to attempt to follow her, before they were shouted down by the barman and forcibly vacated from the premises by the bulkier members of staff.
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Re: The Legacy of Fjánnin

Post by The SheoDovah »

Navariësé ignored the drunkards as she walked up the stairs with her beloved friend ontop of her head. "I'm not sure how much longer i can rent this room for. I'm running out of coin and I don't know what to do. If i head south, they'll catch us. North, i don't know where it leads to. West and east, i haven't a clue." She said to Oderúr. The owl hooted softly again and remained on her head as she entered the room.
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Bold is Gotáryé. Won't mention it again
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Re: The Legacy of Fjánnin

Post by Hissien »

Aly'trra
The witch looked on at the drunkards and sighed, men would do anything to find an excuse to fight. She continued reading her tome, though with a bit more interest in what was going on in her surroundings.
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