ShuhaloTemptress
Really Experienced
- Joined
- Mar 13, 2017
- Posts
- 151
Character Profile: Xera Ravensbane - Age 28 - Buxom C Cup Breasts, pale skin, tall slender form.
The brisk winter winds of Falsmir Highlands were nothing to laugh at, definitely not at this hour. If it wasn't for the shielded torchlight glinting off of the golden helm and chainmail of the watchman casting its glow across the Altman crest on his armor, you wouldn't know there was anyone atop the wall in the blizzard. Clutching the handle of his trusty halberd, the ribbons tied to the handle coated in pellets of ice hitting against his cheek with each howl of the northern winds, Garrison's mood soured. "Blast, what I wouldn't give to have a buxom woman on my lap, a tankard full of mead in my hand and my feet by a damn fire... but no..." Another whip of wind caught him off guard and moved him slightly, to which he moved back to his post keeping watch off the western wall. "Ohh no, I had to cover for Jack. Me and my bleedin' heart caring that he had to go bury his momma... sure. Look what it's gotten ya in fer, Garrison. A night atop this frozen dump. And there's nothin' out there." He sighed, his breath hitting against the wind and dropping hard as it froze in front of his face. His eyelashes and ginger beard coated in ice crystals. The only thing keeping him warm was the torch on the wall and the brazier nearby and those certainly weren't much help. He closed his eyes for just a moment, the wind whipping around slowed to give him some respite. Garrison sighed contentedly and threw another log onto the brazier. Leaning the halberd against a rack, he held his hands in front of the heat source, feeling it warm him. The quieted wind allowed him to hear the joy and merry mirth from down in town. The women all dancing within the Glenshire Inn and making men buy them wine and ale.
He grit his teeth and turned back to his post. "Soon, ol Garry... Soon." He smirked to himself before something whizzed by. He turned his head to see what it was, but was caught off guard by an arrow piercing his shoulder between the chainmail and shoulder plate. "AH FUCK!" The arrow lodged in his shoulder burned like a thousand bees stinging at once. He reached for it, pulling it out but the arrow turned to wisps of black, fading in the night as if it had never existed. The blood oozing from his wound turned black and seethed from it, like acid and an aura rose from his shoulder emitting a sinister and foul magic. Garrison dropped to one knee clutching his shoulder. "No, it can't be..." Another arrow caught him in the chest, just missing his heart. The impact forced him backwards knocking the brazier over igniting the banners on fire nearby. Garrison, now coughing up blood, reached for the amber horn attached to his hip to alert the other watchmen on the wall but a dagger pierced it through his hand into the weapon rack, knocking any weapons out of reach. He let out a guttural scream as he looked up to see his attacker.
"You all should be dead..." he managed to speak as he spit blood at the intruder's face. A wide grin appeared from under the hood, the torchlight brightening her appearance. A beautiful elven ranger of the clan Valenvex; hair as black as a raven's wing, eyes emerald as the plains of Argovia, lips blackened with the souls of her enemies and a voice silken as spun thread.
"Your pitiful village will learn of your mistakes, as will all of your kind. Your deaths will not be the last." She pressed her fingers against Garrison's forehead, a dark magic filling his mind and his eyes widening, mouth agape and black smoke pouring from his eye sockets. His screams were silenced as he burned from within. She stood walking away from the remnants of his body, now ashes being blown by the lingering blizzard winds.
The torchlight casting a shadow on her slender form as she turned to look at the village below. Disgust crossed her face as she thought how the Altman had murdered her family and clansmen on the day eight years ago that would be known in her native tongue as "The Day of Blood". The screams seemingly echoed in her mind. Memories she thought she had laid to rot along with the corpses that the carrion birds had devoured so many moons ago. She had returned from a day-hunt with other clansmen. The hides they had gathered would barely catch enough coin to get herbs from the marketplace needed for the ones with ailments in their village. There were so many sick. Some had claimed that it was a virus from the Altman, that their wizards and warlocks had conjured something to wipe them out, to get rid of their old and young. She had fought against the clan's council elders, her father included, to try to make peace with them. They had finally come to a conclusion to talk to some of the justices and leaders of the Altman that morning, so she hoped by the time she got back home with her fellow rangers, some sort of concordance would have been reached. Alas, nothing had been reached. The fires were out when they arrived home. There was a staunch scent of death on the air, lingering like it had been there a while. She sent her rangers about, some scurrying up the trees to get better visuals of the village. Something had happened. That's when she saw them. Altman soldiers raiding the village under the darkened sky, rifling through the bodies like ravenous wolves. She shot an arrow into the head of one of them, causing alarm to rise among their ranks. Her anger was rising as her ranger brothers and sisters jumped out of the trees, attacking them, downing them one by one. She left them to their magics and the bloodshed as she wandered to the main building at the center of the village. Her home. Her childhood home. Where her father should be, where the sweet scent of meats on the spit and breads baking should be filling the halls... But, there was only the stench of death as she entered, pushing open the ivory door covered in bloody hand prints. Her eyes followed the blood trail from the entrance to the council chamber, she slowly became numb, her soul becoming cold at what she anticipated she might see next. And that's where he was... Surrounded by seven soldiers, all dead and so was he. She knelt down next to him, cradling his head and removing his ring, placing it on her hand. Her hands now covered in his blood, she let out a scream of terror and rage. Black magic erupting from her fingertips and into the bodies of the Altman soldiers. They began rising, limbs stretching and bones snapping in various positions. Her eyes brightened and glowed eerily as she exited her home, forbidden magic filling her as she stared down what was left of the Altman soldiers. They had somehow dispatched her ranger compatriots and now they turned to focus on her. Tears soaked her cheeks as her blood covered hands raised pointing at them. "You will pay for what you've done!!" The risen soldiers lunged at their former allies, devouring them, turning their blood into a foul putrid ichor as it spewed forth.
As her mind slipped back to the current time, she grit her teeth. Her eyes an emerald glow with hatred and anger. They would learn their place this night. The demonic-imbued Xera Ravensbane had come for her vengeance.
Xera's appearance on Day of Blood
Xera's appearance today
The brisk winter winds of Falsmir Highlands were nothing to laugh at, definitely not at this hour. If it wasn't for the shielded torchlight glinting off of the golden helm and chainmail of the watchman casting its glow across the Altman crest on his armor, you wouldn't know there was anyone atop the wall in the blizzard. Clutching the handle of his trusty halberd, the ribbons tied to the handle coated in pellets of ice hitting against his cheek with each howl of the northern winds, Garrison's mood soured. "Blast, what I wouldn't give to have a buxom woman on my lap, a tankard full of mead in my hand and my feet by a damn fire... but no..." Another whip of wind caught him off guard and moved him slightly, to which he moved back to his post keeping watch off the western wall. "Ohh no, I had to cover for Jack. Me and my bleedin' heart caring that he had to go bury his momma... sure. Look what it's gotten ya in fer, Garrison. A night atop this frozen dump. And there's nothin' out there." He sighed, his breath hitting against the wind and dropping hard as it froze in front of his face. His eyelashes and ginger beard coated in ice crystals. The only thing keeping him warm was the torch on the wall and the brazier nearby and those certainly weren't much help. He closed his eyes for just a moment, the wind whipping around slowed to give him some respite. Garrison sighed contentedly and threw another log onto the brazier. Leaning the halberd against a rack, he held his hands in front of the heat source, feeling it warm him. The quieted wind allowed him to hear the joy and merry mirth from down in town. The women all dancing within the Glenshire Inn and making men buy them wine and ale.
He grit his teeth and turned back to his post. "Soon, ol Garry... Soon." He smirked to himself before something whizzed by. He turned his head to see what it was, but was caught off guard by an arrow piercing his shoulder between the chainmail and shoulder plate. "AH FUCK!" The arrow lodged in his shoulder burned like a thousand bees stinging at once. He reached for it, pulling it out but the arrow turned to wisps of black, fading in the night as if it had never existed. The blood oozing from his wound turned black and seethed from it, like acid and an aura rose from his shoulder emitting a sinister and foul magic. Garrison dropped to one knee clutching his shoulder. "No, it can't be..." Another arrow caught him in the chest, just missing his heart. The impact forced him backwards knocking the brazier over igniting the banners on fire nearby. Garrison, now coughing up blood, reached for the amber horn attached to his hip to alert the other watchmen on the wall but a dagger pierced it through his hand into the weapon rack, knocking any weapons out of reach. He let out a guttural scream as he looked up to see his attacker.
"You all should be dead..." he managed to speak as he spit blood at the intruder's face. A wide grin appeared from under the hood, the torchlight brightening her appearance. A beautiful elven ranger of the clan Valenvex; hair as black as a raven's wing, eyes emerald as the plains of Argovia, lips blackened with the souls of her enemies and a voice silken as spun thread.
"Your pitiful village will learn of your mistakes, as will all of your kind. Your deaths will not be the last." She pressed her fingers against Garrison's forehead, a dark magic filling his mind and his eyes widening, mouth agape and black smoke pouring from his eye sockets. His screams were silenced as he burned from within. She stood walking away from the remnants of his body, now ashes being blown by the lingering blizzard winds.
The torchlight casting a shadow on her slender form as she turned to look at the village below. Disgust crossed her face as she thought how the Altman had murdered her family and clansmen on the day eight years ago that would be known in her native tongue as "The Day of Blood". The screams seemingly echoed in her mind. Memories she thought she had laid to rot along with the corpses that the carrion birds had devoured so many moons ago. She had returned from a day-hunt with other clansmen. The hides they had gathered would barely catch enough coin to get herbs from the marketplace needed for the ones with ailments in their village. There were so many sick. Some had claimed that it was a virus from the Altman, that their wizards and warlocks had conjured something to wipe them out, to get rid of their old and young. She had fought against the clan's council elders, her father included, to try to make peace with them. They had finally come to a conclusion to talk to some of the justices and leaders of the Altman that morning, so she hoped by the time she got back home with her fellow rangers, some sort of concordance would have been reached. Alas, nothing had been reached. The fires were out when they arrived home. There was a staunch scent of death on the air, lingering like it had been there a while. She sent her rangers about, some scurrying up the trees to get better visuals of the village. Something had happened. That's when she saw them. Altman soldiers raiding the village under the darkened sky, rifling through the bodies like ravenous wolves. She shot an arrow into the head of one of them, causing alarm to rise among their ranks. Her anger was rising as her ranger brothers and sisters jumped out of the trees, attacking them, downing them one by one. She left them to their magics and the bloodshed as she wandered to the main building at the center of the village. Her home. Her childhood home. Where her father should be, where the sweet scent of meats on the spit and breads baking should be filling the halls... But, there was only the stench of death as she entered, pushing open the ivory door covered in bloody hand prints. Her eyes followed the blood trail from the entrance to the council chamber, she slowly became numb, her soul becoming cold at what she anticipated she might see next. And that's where he was... Surrounded by seven soldiers, all dead and so was he. She knelt down next to him, cradling his head and removing his ring, placing it on her hand. Her hands now covered in his blood, she let out a scream of terror and rage. Black magic erupting from her fingertips and into the bodies of the Altman soldiers. They began rising, limbs stretching and bones snapping in various positions. Her eyes brightened and glowed eerily as she exited her home, forbidden magic filling her as she stared down what was left of the Altman soldiers. They had somehow dispatched her ranger compatriots and now they turned to focus on her. Tears soaked her cheeks as her blood covered hands raised pointing at them. "You will pay for what you've done!!" The risen soldiers lunged at their former allies, devouring them, turning their blood into a foul putrid ichor as it spewed forth.
As her mind slipped back to the current time, she grit her teeth. Her eyes an emerald glow with hatred and anger. They would learn their place this night. The demonic-imbued Xera Ravensbane had come for her vengeance.
Xera's appearance on Day of Blood
Xera's appearance today
