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Hey! You guys probably already know this, but... :D I'm gonna be gone for a week (starting tomorrow). I may or may not be able to post for whenever you guys are ready (though, honestly, you should just postpone the whole thing. I mean... Hyrus? Start without me? Please, it'll crumble), but I'll try my best.
Appearance: Elijah is a sexy, sexy man. It's a vulgar way to put it, but it's very much true. He stands higher over most at the height of six foot, five inches, or about 1.83 meters tall. Elijah is of white descent, and has a slight tan. It is clear that he goes outside and gets a good amount of sunlight, but also gets some time indoors as well. His skin is practically flawless, no freckles, zits, blemishes, or anything of the like. Elijah is well muscled although his height makes it seem much more even to the rest of his body, creating a nice athletic build. Most attractive.
This is wear he gets his reputation of being the albino of his family, other than just personality-wise. He didn't retain the color of his family's sunshine blonde hair, that the family was known for so well for throughout the neighborhood. Instead, he took the color of his grandparents hair. Elijah has pitch-black hair, dark as night. His hair is thick and soft, coming down just a bit short of his eyebrows. It is only a bit unkept, a few bands of hair sticking up in odd places. His eyebrows are on the thinner side, overlining his eyes nicely. His eyes are just about the only thing that people can recognize to belong to his family. They were a light, bright icy blue color. A smile with those set of eyes would usually cause a few girls to swoon. The rest of his features fit his face perfectly, and if anything, they were more on the thin side of things.
On the casual side of things, Elijah was one to wear a simple set of clothing. Just your average medieval-wear. Usually he wears a white baggy shirt made of silk, with the baggy sleeves and a few buttons at the top. Lower-half, he has the loose pants with kind of puff out from your legs, and tucks the ends into his shoes. His armor is however, what he truly takes his pride in. The first layer of the armor is the usual things, under shirt, boxers, that type of stuff. Second layer is a full attire of chain mail, for extra protection. The third layer, is the one that shows. A black chestplate made out of the finest steel (with the arms covered too), and long black pants with an array of pockets in them. A golden yellow stripe goes down the side of them. Elijah wore black fingerless gloves, and had cuffs of the same black steel. Golden and black combat boots, with the pants over most of them. He had a golden yellow belt, and there were slots all around for his throwing knives, and one sheath for his longsword. And to top it all off, he has a yellow cloth wrapped around his chestplate diagnolly, tightened to make sure it won't come off in battle.
Personality: First thing's first, Honesty is Elijah's best policy. To be very plain on the subject, he is painfully honest with people. Yes, painfully honest with people. Elijah doesn't mind, and often does tell the truth to people, whether or not they asked the question. Such as, he wouldn't mind pointing out how absolutely disgusting somebody's favorite clothing is, the tiniest imperfections that person may have, and how much alike he or she is to a pile of a horse's excrement. And all of that, to the person's face in a nice, calm manner. And maybe even a smile to top it off, depending on his mood. Elijah has always been this way, ever since he had first learned to talk at the age of three. His parents have long given up in trying to get this attitude out of him, and instead tell him to just keep his opinions to himself. Elijah would always laugh at that. They called the facts 'opinions'.
Elijah believes that he is better than everyone. Actually, it might be better to re-phrase that in his words to better understand him. He, Elijah Darryon Chapmann, is better than everyone else in the city of Curilan, all in Eveamoor, and beyond, whether they were a human, elf, or dwarf. Either that, or the people around him are so idiotic that they have led him to believe as such. To him, people as a whole are just stupid, fickle, idiotic creatures to Elijah. Everyone lets their emotions, physical appearances, and others rule their lives. The highest person one should ever think high of, is themselves according to Elijah. And he has great reason to think this way. For he, is the best of everyone. Everything he does is superb, as he improves his natural ability, and does not do what he is not good at unless he has to. It would be a waste of his time to train in something and still end up being mediocre. And Elijah hates being wasteful.
So, Elijah doesn't love anyone, or anything, but a certain thing that makes the world go 'round. And that's money, in any shape or form. Whether it be in gold pieces, bills, coins, anything. There's nothing he loves to do more than to make some money. He may have gotten it from being raised in a merchant's family, but some would say he was born that way. Elijah didn't really take the family passion in selling things to people, but he certainly inherited the gene to do so. He could sell practically anything, but that's not the point. Elijah would do any job that made him richer, and preferably it did so faster. In fact, with his dashing good looks, if there was more money in being a prostitue, he would gladly do so. It would be a use of his assets, and for what better thing to possess? In fact, he'll try and see if a talent of his can help his goal of gaining gold. And he just realized which one would really get him rich.
Ladies and gentlemen, that would be his fighting abilities. Obviously, most do not appreciate his blunt honesty, and he has gotten into more than just a few altercations. And by a few, it actually means a lot. And most of them involved large amounts of un-pleasant physical contact. In fact, this has happened so many times throughout the years of Elijah's lifetime, his father had got his son a fighting teacher. He took to it naturally, already a great hand to hand combatant. But, without those years of tutoring, he would not be talented in the art of weaponry. Elijah's tutor soon had become obsolete as his skill rised.
History: Elijah was born into a wealthy merchant family on the date of June Twenty-Fifth, in the city of Curilan of Eveamoor. His parents ran a rather large jewelry store, and created a rather large amount of money for the family, including both him and his older brother Lukas, who received the best. Lukas was the spoiled one, and Elijah's parents favored him more in everything. He was the 'Sunshine child' as people around the neighborhood would say. Elijah was the 'Albino Chap', thanks to his distance from his parents, and his rather out of place hair color. Even as a child, he was much as he was today. He still had the same painful honesty, which was tolerated a bit, and the same knack for money. He was much smarter with it than Lukas, but whatever. Not a lot occured during his child-hood years, and it was pretty average despite the abnormal amount of fights Elijah got into.
A lot more happened during his pre-pubescent through his teenage years, and the reputation of being a rude little kid changed into being the pompous ass-hole. He became a lot more self-involved, and he became a lot more open with his truth. Which resulted in tons, and tons of fighting. Sometimes he would get into four a week, but he usually came out unscathed. Elijah was a bit of a natural fighter, but his father was not going to take any chances. He had hired a fighting tutor for him at the age of Eleven after a particularly bad week, and Elijah was soon taught the art of fighting. Whether that it would be hand-to-hand combat, or with weapons, he became proficient in the techniques. Elijah's personal favorite of the weapons was the long-sword, and his father had gotten him a customized one for his six-teenth birthday. Elijah was so excited, he had kept his mouth shut on certain things his father did that bothered him for a whole month. It was tough, but he did it in thanks for the gift.
At age eight-teen, the fighting trainer had become obsolete for teaching, and he was soon sent back off his way. Elijah grew bored the next three years, the only thing he resorted himself to doing being practicing his swordsmanship, and working. He mostly did manual labor, and ran around town getting the shipments. Elijah received a low pay, and felt as if his talents were useless in the family. He hated both of those things, and decided that he was going into a new career. A higher paying career. A much higher paying career. Elijah sat his family down one night, and told them of his plans to leave the house and become a mercenary. His parents seemed to be shocked, yet somewhat relieved at the same time. Elijah assumed they were giving Lukas the business, and they were glad that they wouldn't have to worry about him being angry about it. They gave him a good amount of money , and he was out of the house. Elijah brought his prized longsword with him, and used a good amount of his money to buy a really good set of armor. And then he was out of the city, leaving off to embrace his new career.
Weapon Preference: Elijah's primary weapon is his long-sword, which he nick-named 'Alpha'. It's made out of the best steel one could buy, and it had a Golden 'E' engraved into the hilt. The cross-guard is a fine black and extends out a bit on the sides, before sharply raising up an inch and a half. The grip was also gold. His secondary weapon, or weapons you could say, are throwing knives.
RP Sample:
Spoiler:
I just saw a poem on a duck being accepted as this. I hope it's okay if I skip this...
Other: He doesn't like being called by his shortened name (Eli) for no particular reason. It just bothers him.
Okay, so a few updates after a fairly busy weekend. At least for me.
1. A "knight" post is in the works. Sorry it has been a bit slow on that end but I promise it will build up. I was waiting on Silver Rogue to post but decided to move on anyway. If all goes well, there will be something to reply to in about 24 hours.
2. A "Mercenary" post is also in the works, and is waiting on Ichiro to post. Once he gets one done, the "Mercenary" group will be able to move on. Raitan can post if he would like to. Or he can wait. Up to him.
I appreciate the patience. We will get this moving. Promise. Also, you can use this thread to talk to each other. Being social is half the fun :DD
If anyone else would like to sign up, they are still OPEN. I may put that in the OP later. If the mood strikes me xD
Ha! The nerve of actually requesting us to speak in the OOC! Such pompousness!
Oh, but do ask if you have any questions whatsoever, and we will do our best to answer. Feel free to make things up as well. An original world has plenty of room for it. A fine example is in Ichiro's last post with the new invention of Raelus Fire Ale.
Not trying to reserve a spot, just wondering if there are any spots OPEN. The idea of the betrayal and story arc to this RP very much intrigues mend I'd be happy to make a sign-up for it.
Okay, so a few updates after a fairly busy weekend. At least for me.
1. A "knight" post is in the works. Sorry it has been a bit slow on that end but I promise it will build up. I was waiting on Silver Rogue to post but decided to move on anyway. If all goes well, there will be something to reply to in about 24 hours.
2. A "Mercenary" post is also in the works, and is waiting on Ichiro to post. Once he gets one done, the "Mercenary" group will be able to move on. Raitan can post if he would like to. Or he can wait. Up to him.
I appreciate the patience. We will get this moving. Promise. Also, you can use this thread to talk to each other. Being social is half the fun :DD
If anyone else would like to sign up, they are still OPEN. I may put that in the OP later. If the mood strikes me xD
Squire- Ladamer L. Vanhaussen III (Advisory Aide to King Christian Calason II)
Name: Ladamer Loure Vanhaussen III
Age: 26
Gender: Male
Race: Elfen Kind
Country of Origin: Raelus
Appearance: The true look and feel of Ladamer's body is a story that many people of Raelus seem to have their own interpretation of. While some will say he's a 'seven foot tall behemoth with a fiery gaze and the strength to match', others refer to him as 'a skinny little con artist with a devilish grin and the wits of a bloodthirsty gremlin'; neither of which falls close to the truth.
Ladamer stands at a dead-on 5"11', that of which makes him look much taller due to his upright posture and refined style of treading. His legs, being distinguishably taller than most of his body, give him premise over most of his peers, as he tends to have to look down on most to have any sort of communication with them. His weight is kept at a balanced and nutritionized 160 pounds, which more than likely became the backbone holding up the 'behemoth' line in most Raelus' folklore.
His eyes are noticeably slanted, which make his burnt sienna eyes appear to be downgrading anyone who passes their gaze. It is also complemented by his intimidating long white hair, that flows seemingly effortlessly about the length of his back. He keeps it lengthy and coarse, as is customary among mist of his Elf kind. While it manages to take care of itself, Ladamer spends a decent amount of time and care on his mantle, feeling inadequate should his Elfen symbol of pride be blemished or defiled in any manner.
His skin is bronzed in a flawless brass brown, which almost glistens under the morning sun, which can only be seen by those lucky enough to catch him during his morning rounds. His skin has no blemishes or imperfections. His only distinguishable features, besides his apparent medieval facade, would be the coiled birthmark on his left forearm, which starts at the elbow and makes a single loop around that stops at his wrist in a narrowed line.
His masculinity is well toned and chiseled, despite his subtle and slender mannerisms. He hones his appearance to stay in peak performance by training and swordplay on a regular basis. The agility and speed he spent most of his time obtaining pays off by bis incredible litheness and dexterity. His torso, while a little over average in length from most Elf's of his kind, is completely overshadowed by his durable calf and leg muscles, which do nothing but make his upper half seem shorter than actual size.
Ladamer wears a traditional ceremonial robe most hours of the day, the only exception being his underarmor and his traditional Elfen battle attire.
The robe he dons is worn mostly in the Raelus Palaces throne room, whenever he advises the King himself or his compatriots. The entire cloak like piece is but a single drapery, that you can throw over your shoulders and meet the collar in the middle, where a silken gold thread can be looped around a button on the other side. There are sleeves hidden on the inside, colored velvet dark with dyes and color mixtures, that Ladamer puts his arms through to conceal anything that he'd need to protect the King or use for himself. The sleeves on the outside are the same dark black, with the exception of the blood red hem of the garment, which has about a two inch line of red covering the overly long sleeves. The bottom hem of the piece has the same two inch red line and the same can be said for the hood of the robe, which limply hangs down to Ladamer's shoulder blades from underuse.
Underneath the robe, if he's seen in the palace throne room, Ladamer wears his Elfen battle armour, which has the Raelus crest over the chestplate. It is an head-to-toe piece, light and exceptionally fitting as to not interfere with his nimble quick movements. The shoes of any of his outfits consist of a pair of silk black flat shoes, breathable and very comforting on his long trips.
Given his position of power and authority he can come and go in any attire as he so pleases, granted that it adheres to Raelus' blood red and black color scheme. Therefore, during any of his other trivial leaves from the palace, he wears a long sleeved dressy like shirt, red in color with black buttons, with the cuffs of which flow out into a more open sleeve, which he hides his hands in and walks with arms folded; again to conceal weapons or items from would-be criminals. For this outfit he wears black trousers, held up with a brown leather belt and used to tuck the loose fabric of his shirt into. The shoes, being the only time in which they'd change, are the same style of comfortable flat shoes, just dyed red in color. This and his ceremonial Raelus robe are the only outfits seen by the commonfolk.
Personality:
You will never find Ladamer put off of his guard, and if you found yourself so lucky as to say you did, you'd either be lying on your manhood, or telling the truth-just unable to relay the news that you did. Cunning and almost frighteningly brilliant, he enjoys his very few seconds of downtime learning and mastering many different agricultural or academic feats, be it blacksmithing or woodworking alike. A favorite thing of Ladamer's to do in his free time, if he's not entertaining the company of King Calason, would be to host miniature sparring rounds against guards of the castle that he felt may "need the extra training".
Ladamer is quiet when in thought, thoroughly cunning, and deadly with his delivery-be it attacking physically or in warfare. Due to his overly extensive hearing range and his almost gunman like eyesight, Ladamer tends to boast his talents and abilities with pride, to any and everyone willing to lend a willing ear.
In his everyday appearance, Ladamer is kind and calm. He is very generous, despite what villagers may spend their life denying. If he couldn't win over the hearts of his people today, he'd try again tomorrow with earnest, all in the namesake of his lordship.
As is customary with every advisor to the throne, Ladamer does have his fair share of doubts and plans of unrest brooding, how ever often that may be. But, due to his late grandfathers convictions and bravery, Ladamer would never think to act upon such urges of inacting phases of some "master scheme" that would disrupt the throne and threaten his Elfen kind brethren.
Instead of acting on temptation, Ladamer chooses to Muse his sorrows into song and dance, two things people can quite honestly say he's good at. No matter the case or occasion, Ladamer will always play soothing melodies and Epiphany his woes into masterful and magnificent pieces.
The King holds Ladamer's skill and ability in high regard, sending some of his most challenging problems to his Aide for the latter's own opinion. It is something Ladamer doesn't mind in the slightest, finding that most of King Calason's ailments, be it physical, trivial, or sickness alike, are more often than not quite a test of knowledge to solve himself.
History: Ladamer Loure Vanhaussen the III, third grandson of Sir Leviase Traener Vanhaussen. Born on October 27th, 1766 in a small village on the outskirts of Eldur. His entire Elfen family came from a long line of amazoness women and warrior men. The symbol and pride of their village, Lamapoure, is apparent in their silken white hair. Their hair is said to be a blessing of the gods themselves, granted only to the faithful and purest of their Elfen bloodline.
In 932 FC, soon after the initial foundation of Bredon, Sir Leviase Vanhaussen and his then lowly tribesmen were captured and forced into servitude under Bredon's banner. Their capture came as a peace treaty between Raelus and the latter, as a show of good faith and trust amongst the then warring territories. Under Bredon's ownership, the Lamapourean elves were sent off to pillage, seeking only death in destruction to anyone who opposed the territories rule. It was during this time Ladamer's thrice Great grandfather earned courtship with the Bredonian kind. He was allowed troops and his very own militia under the posthumously endearing title, The One Tears Names from Faces, due to ensuing matters of unrest against Bredonian men.
Ironically, Leviase and his newly established men usurped a coup'de'tat, attacking Bredon's campsites under the stroke of night. Leviase's men were in charge of attacking the hub of Bredonian influence, King Belethor the First. By quietly and effectively infiltrating the castle grounds, Leviase and his troops assassinated the Bredonian King, removing his face with a rusty axe before riding off in the den of night.
Months later, word spread of Lamapourean treason, and Bredon's mercenaries rode out and attacked a defenseless Leviase in his stead. It was this series of events that have Leviase his title, and managed to return his people back over to their rightful home, Raelus.
Hearing of Ladamer's family and their exploits, an impressed leader of Raelus happily accepted the family name back into Raelan recordings, even granting them royalty behind the Kings name. While not necessarily a bad end of the deal, Leviase's men still had servitude, for many generations afterward actually. Ladamer and his Lamapourean tribesmen live highly in regard in Raelus, even having enough time to stay up to par physically and religiously to the King, who treats his subjects in high regard as it is.
Ladamer spent the first 16 years of his life learning the tools of the trade. Spying, reconnaissance, negotiations and dialect, assassination and warfare techniques, all in order to successful fulfill his duties at the rightful protector to the King. The role is "granted" to the first-born son of the newest generation of Lamapourean blood. Since the people of his kind were no longer captives, but instead were hailed as royalty, Ladamer gladly assumed his position, secretly enjoying his service to the throne, and the peaceful life his people now lived under it. His relationship with King Calason has been smooth and easy, only ever having to prevent disastrous events (like assassination for example), just once, however, Ladamer is always on his toes for any newer moves of the same instance.
Weapon Preference: Ladamer is an exceptional adept at using a double-edged rapier, which the King recognizes his brutality fierce expertise in. Whenever his hands are folded, he conceals many poison tipped needs and throwing knifes, most of which leave brutally large callouses and splints on his hands, another reason for concealing them in his sleeves. His rapier is on his person whenever he leaves to foreign lands, and his throwing knives and needles accompany his person as well.
RP Sample
Spoiler:
It was late afternoon one Sunday morning.
Ladamer has been awake for what seemed like days now, yet it had only been six or seven hours to count. Whatever it was about today that made everything appear to move so slowly, he didn't like it.
Probably a means of sorcery, no doubt. the young elf thought to himself, the words stooling around in his head as he tried to place happenings with fact.
Still, despite all that'd been happening so far today, or the lack thereof rather, Ladamer found himself stuck alone in the study of Raelan Palace. There he sat, just himself a candlelight and an old Bredonian encyclopedia. Why he'd ever bothered to grab such a horrid and distasteful piece of literature, he'll never hope to reason. Still, with nothing better to do, why not have a little history lesson all to himself? Ladamer knew all to well why he'd chosen this book, however. And from the way the pages so effortlessly flew open towards the back of the hardcover, so did the book itself.
Staring back at him, in tints of yellow paper and worn black ink, was his great-grandfather. Leviase Traener Vanhaussen. Militia leader and the greatest warhero of Lamapourean kind. The title fit that man better the glistening iron armor he had owned, which you could tell looked simply magnificent-even in the low-light and worn pages he was being admired under.
"You were quite the man amongst men, grandfather ..." Ladamer said to himself as his fingers traced the penmanship of his late relatives posthumous naming.
Why was this slowly becoming his favorite thing to do? Why was heading down to a local eatery and rambling through stories of old with his kinsmen such a wonderous and calming pastime for the young elf?
Well, being the heir to an empire of loyal and loving Lamapourean kind definitely counted as a reason, and hearing about the man behind it all was the tiebreaker for another. Ladamer had heard the story about a thousand times. Had it been through the nasally passage of a human, it definitely would've had some misconceptions and many more lies than truth; something Ladamer would have definitely repayed with great punishment. If anybody, the story would've had to been told through the pride of a Lamapourean. Hearing it then, you'd have every last detail painted so perfectly in your mind, there'd be no need for any sort of reanactment or charade; although that would most certainly be an amusing touch.
Ladamer gave a small muffled laugh at the thought. He'd have even allowed a human the privilege of mocking his grandfather then.
I am Leviase Traener Vanhaussen, rightful aide to Raelusian Throne! In my hand is the face of true oppression! Look on with awe as I remove it from this land by the flames brewed by his injustices!
Thinking of how it might have looked and sounded, what was once a small chuckle grew into an enormous chortling fit. Ladamer began laughing so hard his gasps for breath seemed like pleads of life from anyone merely listening in.
Which was probably what started his guards on the outside into commotion. After slamming the library doors open, two gaurds came rushing in, swords and bows respectfully armed and in the ready.
The room was silent, each and every corner of it. Surely what the guards heard weren't the makings of an attack on their Lamapourean vanguard? What would King Calason do should he hear of this? He'd have their heads on staves for it, worse yet for the whole capital to observe in shock. They'd have to face their punishment, though. Ladamer was missing, and all the guards could hope for in the end was that Calason showed mercy on their--
"...May I assist you two, gentleman?" a voice called as they'd emerged from behind a long bookcase.
"L-Lord Vanhaussen!" the first of the two armoured humans called out in relief.
Showing no sign of understanding, Ladamer simply tilted his head in confusion as the guards both removed their head visors to observe the King's Aide. "...Yes? Was something ailing you, my friends?" he asked after a moment.
"We...we thought we heard screams ... Sounded as if someone was in pain..." the second man explained.
Ladamer, while not conveying it, had much disdain towards the two daunting figures in front of him. My laughter is similar to pained screams? Ladamer thought concealing his scowl with zeal.
He moved his arms into the outside sleeves of his ceremonial robe and headed towards the door, gesturing his companions out of it. "Well I assure you there's nothing of the sort going on in here, gentlemen. Now, if you have no further business..."
The guards passed each other confused looks at Ladamer's calm tone, but without any other word, exited the room and heard the door click shut behind them. Ladamer simply walked back over to his grandfather's visage, and sat back down in front of it. My laughter doesn't sound like dying does it?...
Other: His pointed ears are concealed behind his hair, blocked out by sunlight and making them slightly darker because of it.
Side: A Knight sent out by request of King Calason.
I apologize, I am back. For the record, I had announce that I was going on two camping trips. It just so happened that the trips had only a couple of days in between, and my boss was having me work overtime to make up for the time I would be on trips. Things have been ridiculously busy and frustrating the past week or so.
So....can I be...unremoved? I have a post about half done right now, but I will wait for any news before I post anything.
Anyway, now the fun part begins, catching up in every roleplay I am doing so far...fun.
As far as I am concerned, you can be unremoved if you post in the next 24 hours and/or before Roku posts (since the Knights are waiting on her as well). The Knights are moving a bit slower than the Mercenaries, so there is no reason we cannot put you back in ;D
So by all means, finish up that post and get back in.
Alright, its 4 AM, but I finished the post, and thats all that matters. So now the ultimate question, to sleep or not to sleep....hmm...coffee was invented for a reason, not sleeping it is!
I'm going to go on a liberty as I haven't yet discussed with my Co-GM, but seeing as how the Knights currently have four members in them, and the Mercenaries have 3, I believe in the purpose of balancing the sides out, one spot is open on the mercenaries.
