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Old March 19th, 2013 (6:39 AM). Edited March 19th, 2013 by EGKangaroo.
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EGKangaroo EGKangaroo is offline
Tail-bumps for all 'roolovers!
    Join Date: Mar 2012
    Location: the Netherlands
    Age: 22
    Gender: Male
    Nature: Quirky
    Posts: 400
    Chief Lynn Hawkeswood
    If you ever left the Ferrum woods via the northern pale, then the hall would be unmissable. In the middle of a leigh, just by the edge of the forest stood the guild base of the Woodland Wanderers. The ageing timber complex was the pride of the nearby Venator town, whose historic roots were entrenched with those of the Woodland Wanderers. The hall was built more than a century ago, near the Trysting tree where the forefathers of the guild assembled, a large oak in the middle of the clearing. Its foliage, no matter how you looked at it, seemed to always carry the shape of an upside down heart. The lone tree in the middle of the clearing still stood to this day, older than the guild itself. Ancient and bulky, in the middle of the courtyard, a metre or ten from the reinforced double door entrance, which had carvings of Celtic knots in their trims. The gabled rooves of the hall stood at a particularly acute angle, brown ceramic tilings running as far down to the ground that with a casual jump, you could grasp the eaves and pull yourself up onto it. Triangular dormers jutted from the starkly pitched roof, supplying ample amounts of sunlight to the chambers inside. It was like a second home to the Ampharos.

    Lynn left her private quarters, located on the first floor of the guild complex, leading her onto the fenced walkway from which one could look down into the two storey high great hall. The timber walkway was supported by two foot thick columns that connected to the beams above that ran perpendicularly across the hall. The stairways gave access from the ground level towards the quarters above, while below, a score of guild members were already chattering, winding down and singing tales. As the Ampharos descended, she could hear the voices more clearly, the clanking of cutlery against the plates and the thumping of their fists against the table provided all the percussion they needed with the crackling of the hearthfire in the centre of the room.

    "As we were outnumbered nine to one,
    And last of our men concede we're done,
    The sparks flying off to break the scrum
    Them dogs fleeing back to cry for mum.
    You never knew any flukier ewe.
    So raise your glass and suspend your belief
    to Lynn the lucky greenhorn chief.

    Men...silly things.

    The Ampharos acted like she didn't hear it. Just grinning to herself at their comical singy-songiness while she paced towards the jobs board by the side of the hall. It was loaded with requests of pokémon for the aid of the Woodland Wanderers. More trouble than ever was engendered in the last few months. The Woodland Wanderers had it busier than ever, the number of bad pokémon in the mystery dungeons burgeoned, there were more members needing time in the sick wards in one week than was normal in a whole month, the entire controlling layer of the guild broke into disarray, and Lynn was left to cope with it. She heaved a sigh. "Oi, chief! Ya comin' to eat or wha?" a gruffy Breloom called. And yet, nothing really changed in her relationship with the guild. Lynn turned and smiled at the group and trotted over to her usual spot at the table.
    RP's I am in:
    Pokemon: Journeys Through Novia - Glyn Schaffer

    "And they tell me there are people who are normal, but I don't know what they look like because I've never met one. And neither have you, so why not compare yourself to real people instead?"
    "Three lives of a gamer: the first'll be your best, because you can always restart if it isn't; the second pales in comparison, and the game will cheat you out; but the third one's going to be better, because it gets do or die from then."

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