satindesire
Queen of Geeks
- Joined
- Apr 19, 2005
- Posts
- 13,101
Horatio Vincent Vryce looked like he was fully capable of handling trouble, for which reason trouble generally gave him a wide berth. His thick-set body was hard with muscle, hands textured with callouses that spoke of fighting often, and well, and now curled lightly about the thick leather reins they were still reddened from exposure to the dry, cold wind of the Divider Mountains. His shoulders bore the weight of a sizable sword in a thick leather harness with no sign of strain, despite the fact that the dust stains on his woolen shirt and the mud that caked his riding boots said that he had been traveling long and hard, and ought to be tired. His skin had tanned and scarred and peeled and tanned again, over and over with such constancy that it now gave the impression of toughly tanned leather. All in all a man to be reckoned with...and since the thieves and bravos of Jaggon's outskirts preferred less challenging prey, he passed unmolested through the crowded western district and entered the heart of the city.
Jaggon. He breathed in it's dusty air, the sound of it's name, the fact of it's existence. He was here. At last. After so many days on the road that he had almost forgotten he had a goal at all, that there was anything else but traveling...and then the city had appeared around him...first the timber houses of the outer districts, and then the brick structures and narrow cobbled streets of the inner city, rising up like stone crops to greet the dusty sunlight. It was almost enough to make him forget what it took to get here, or why they had chosen h im and no one else to make this particular crossing.
*Hell...* he thought dryly, *no one else was fool enough to try.*
He tried to picture one of the Ganji elders making the long trek from westlands to east-crossing the most treacherous of all mountain ranges, fighting off the nightmare beasts that made those cold peaks their home, braving the wild far and all that it chose to manifest, their own souls' nightmares given substance-but the diverse parts of such a picture, like the facets of a badly-worked Healing, wouldn't come together. Oh, they might have agreed to come, provided they could use the sea for transport...but that had it's own special risks, and Horatio preferred the lesser terrors of things he could do battle with to the unalterable destructive power of Erna's frequent tsunami.
He prodded his horse through the city streets with an easy touch, content to take his time, eager to see what manner of place he had come to. Though night was already falling, the city was as crowded as a Ganji marketplace at high noon. Strange habits, indeed, he mused, for people who lived so near a focal point of malevolence. Back in Ganji, shopkeepers would already be shuttering their windows against the fall of night, and making ward-signs against the merest thought of Coreset. Already the season had hosted nights with no more light than that of a single moon shone down tot he needy earth, and the first true night was soon to come; all the creatures that thrived on darkness would be most active in this season, seeking blood or sin or semen or despair or...whatever special substance it required to sustain themselves, and seeking it with vigor. Only a fool would walk the night unarmed at such a time-or perhaps, Vryce reflected, one who lived so close to the heart of that darkness that constant exposure had dulled all sense of danger.
or...was it that there were simply safety in numbers, in a city so large that no matter how many were taken in the night, the odds were good that it wouldn't be you?
Then something caught his eye; he reigned up suddenly causing the three-toed mount to snort with concern. Laughing softly, he patted it on the neck. "No danger here old friend..." then he considered, and added, "not yet, anyway."
He dismounted and led the dappled creature across the street, to the place that had caught his eye. It was a small shop, with a warded canopy set to guard the walkway just outside, and a marquis that caught the dying sunlight like drops of fire. "Fae Shoppe" it said in gleaming gold letters "resident loremaster, all hours."
He looked back over his shoulder, to the gradually darkening street. Night was coming on with vigor, and God alone knew what that would mean. The sensible thing to do would be to find an inn and drop off his things, get his mount under guard, and affix a few wards to his luggage...but when had he ever done the sensible thing when curiosity was driving him? He took a moment to remove his most valuable bag from his horses back-his only valuable bag, in fact- locked the beast's lead chain to a hitching rack, and went inside.
**************************************
So for the few C.S. Friedman fans out there that might recognize the title or setting, I'd love to do a "Coldfire Trilogy"-based RP. We don't necessarily need to use the cannon characters of the books, and in fact I encourage you to play your own original works of RP art, but the cannon characters ARE welcome in the RP.
For those of you who have not read the three masterpieces in the Coldfire Trilogy, please PM me if you are interested in this RP and I will be more than happy to give you a short but detailed synopsis of the information you'll need to play, including what the resident "magick" of the land is (the fae) and it's workings.
I STRONGLY welcome players of higher level ability, multiple paragraph writers with a lot of RP experience are most desired. This is an open thread and anyone who wishes to play, may.
Jaggon. He breathed in it's dusty air, the sound of it's name, the fact of it's existence. He was here. At last. After so many days on the road that he had almost forgotten he had a goal at all, that there was anything else but traveling...and then the city had appeared around him...first the timber houses of the outer districts, and then the brick structures and narrow cobbled streets of the inner city, rising up like stone crops to greet the dusty sunlight. It was almost enough to make him forget what it took to get here, or why they had chosen h im and no one else to make this particular crossing.
*Hell...* he thought dryly, *no one else was fool enough to try.*
He tried to picture one of the Ganji elders making the long trek from westlands to east-crossing the most treacherous of all mountain ranges, fighting off the nightmare beasts that made those cold peaks their home, braving the wild far and all that it chose to manifest, their own souls' nightmares given substance-but the diverse parts of such a picture, like the facets of a badly-worked Healing, wouldn't come together. Oh, they might have agreed to come, provided they could use the sea for transport...but that had it's own special risks, and Horatio preferred the lesser terrors of things he could do battle with to the unalterable destructive power of Erna's frequent tsunami.
He prodded his horse through the city streets with an easy touch, content to take his time, eager to see what manner of place he had come to. Though night was already falling, the city was as crowded as a Ganji marketplace at high noon. Strange habits, indeed, he mused, for people who lived so near a focal point of malevolence. Back in Ganji, shopkeepers would already be shuttering their windows against the fall of night, and making ward-signs against the merest thought of Coreset. Already the season had hosted nights with no more light than that of a single moon shone down tot he needy earth, and the first true night was soon to come; all the creatures that thrived on darkness would be most active in this season, seeking blood or sin or semen or despair or...whatever special substance it required to sustain themselves, and seeking it with vigor. Only a fool would walk the night unarmed at such a time-or perhaps, Vryce reflected, one who lived so close to the heart of that darkness that constant exposure had dulled all sense of danger.
or...was it that there were simply safety in numbers, in a city so large that no matter how many were taken in the night, the odds were good that it wouldn't be you?
Then something caught his eye; he reigned up suddenly causing the three-toed mount to snort with concern. Laughing softly, he patted it on the neck. "No danger here old friend..." then he considered, and added, "not yet, anyway."
He dismounted and led the dappled creature across the street, to the place that had caught his eye. It was a small shop, with a warded canopy set to guard the walkway just outside, and a marquis that caught the dying sunlight like drops of fire. "Fae Shoppe" it said in gleaming gold letters "resident loremaster, all hours."
He looked back over his shoulder, to the gradually darkening street. Night was coming on with vigor, and God alone knew what that would mean. The sensible thing to do would be to find an inn and drop off his things, get his mount under guard, and affix a few wards to his luggage...but when had he ever done the sensible thing when curiosity was driving him? He took a moment to remove his most valuable bag from his horses back-his only valuable bag, in fact- locked the beast's lead chain to a hitching rack, and went inside.
**************************************
So for the few C.S. Friedman fans out there that might recognize the title or setting, I'd love to do a "Coldfire Trilogy"-based RP. We don't necessarily need to use the cannon characters of the books, and in fact I encourage you to play your own original works of RP art, but the cannon characters ARE welcome in the RP.
For those of you who have not read the three masterpieces in the Coldfire Trilogy, please PM me if you are interested in this RP and I will be more than happy to give you a short but detailed synopsis of the information you'll need to play, including what the resident "magick" of the land is (the fae) and it's workings.
I STRONGLY welcome players of higher level ability, multiple paragraph writers with a lot of RP experience are most desired. This is an open thread and anyone who wishes to play, may.
