Ahdonis

There's no art of Ahdonis.

Description

Here stands before you the figure of the most handsome man you have every seen. Blonde long hair flows across is tanned face. Blue eyes look back at you, making you feel at ease. A smirk across his face tells you otherwise. A thin frame deceives you of the muscle tone he possess. His body is covered with the most impressive array of armor. Each piece looks flawless, almost like he has out for display. This is obviously a man that knows and appreciates the value of items. Hard to imagine he is a bug?

Roleplay Notes

August 2013
April 2013

Adelaide

There's no art of Adelaide.

Description

The small pixie floats before you, hair waving in the wind, her cloak made of rose petals flutters freely, occasionally revealing small wings. The armor she wears is lightweight yet sturdy and durable, protecting the fragile slender body. The rest of her outfit is made of various leaves and knit-together plants. Upon closer inspection you notice her wearing the symbol of Silvanus along with many oakleaf trinkets and magic items.

Roleplay Notes

November 2002

The Muse (Part 9)

As I woke up, I felt someone next to me. Quyen seemed to be just laying down for a nap himself. No rest for the good of heart. The bed was oddly a creation spell, soft flowers lay under the cloaks that I slept on and placed over me. It was out of place because the rest of the room looked like a small cheap Inn.

"Where... The... Where am I?" My voice cracked from a dry throat and tiredness.

"Safe. How do you feel?" He opened one eye and smiled before waking up and replying.

"Better, this... Whole room isn't real is it?" I kept trying to make sense of the place but it all seemed magical, unreal.

"Real enough. But your instincts are right that it's not a "real" inn room. Careful now, I took care of your wounds, but I am not a priest." He protested as I slowly got up and sat on the edge of the bed. I smiled at him and healed my wounds the rest of the way, white light glowing from them as they healed.

"Last thing I remember... I was running for the door... No, a knight? No, a demon... Yes, a Demon... And you saved me?" I looked down at the dressings that once covered my wounds and smiled. He grinned and scratched the back of his neck being modest. "You've done well. But before all that... THE GNOME!!!" I jumped to my feet and began searching for my journal. He coughed and reminded me that I might want to put clothes on. I obliged and had him turn as I got out my traveling vestments.  He handed me the book after and asked me about the gnome.

"I read your journal by the way while you recovered. What about the gnome?" He asked.

"The lil bastard tried to have me killed! He's the one that created the device, or one of them at least, it harnesses energy for the channeler that's designed to create a very powerful artifact. It essentially entombs wild magic that would otherwise be uncontrollable. And after he told me he'd go find the device so I could figure out what went wrong, he sent those demons after me!" I related what had happened in the past few days. It wasn't long before he was curious about the device.

"So... The spell is part of a ritual that entombs a device of which three are needed to encase a magical artifact?" He looked at me puzzled.

"All I know is what is in the book. The book just explains that the ritual can be used to divert magical power into a channeler and use that diversion as time to be able to capture magic that is normally uncontrollable. The original creators theorized the created object would be capable of casting a high level spell and sustaining it. To what end, I don't know. Half the book is in a language I don't even know, doubt anyone does. But we're losing time! We need to go! Where are we?"
I picked up my bag and opened the door and gasped. The dull red bricks with greyed mortar even looked liked they'd aged naturally. The room really was completely fake. It was as if he'd hid us inside a dimension door and made it look pretty.

"Yeah, about that, I'm really not sure where we are, I was in a bit of a hurry to escape and well, teleportation and dimensional doorways are nice but trying to hide in them while being chased is quite another story. So, let's take a look around..." He closed the door and reopened it and the salty breeze familiar to large bodies of water floated into the room. I cast a fly spell as I walked out and stared. Water as far as the eye could see.

A Calling

The rest of the Keepers had long since gone their own ways. Families to reunite with, homesteads to tend to, their own  lives to live, away from the blood and toil of exploring the  realms.  Bosch himself had decided to rest his weary body as well, settling down to the comfort of a soft bed and warm fire, reading and studying the volumes of books and manuscripts that had accumulated over the years.

On his visits to the bustling cities he had heard many stories of new places and people that had been discovered in the Great Realms.  There were the lost ruins of Dlabraddath deep within  the Drannor forest, found by a group of treasure seekers, many of which did not make it out alive; seafarers reporting the emergence of mysterious islands in the far reaches of the Sea of Swords; nomadic merchants who came in contact with a group of isolated sylvans high in the treetops of Nordahaeril; and hushed whispers of an island believed to inhabited by lycanthropes. Where in the past such things may have stirred the inner  adventurer within, this time they had done little to motivate the weary wizard to leave the comforts of home.

But then one day in the din of a crowded pub in Waterdeep, he overheard a conversation, several actually, about a portal that had appeared in the skies, one which transported people away to crumbling ruins.  Ruins where a voice was heard by all who entered, where those familiar with the legacy of magic in the realms knew what the ruins represented.  The markings on the walls, the symbols etched in the masonwork, the writing on the crumbled archways.  These were the remains of the Netheril Empire.  And if the legends held true this these ruins would contain the secrets of the greatest mage in the spoken and written history of Faerun: Karsus.

Abraxus

There's no art of Abraxus.

Description

The woman is slender, almost skinny, wiry, her hair is neatly bound in little braids to the back of her head, with the occasional twig standing out clearly in the white abundance. Her eyes are the colour of liquid amber and glimmer with a fierce determination, set deep in high cheekbones and framed by snow white lashes. Her lips are not full, nor are they thin, Her mouth rarely smiling, when it does, it simply turns in the corners slightly and no more. She is clothed simply in brown leathers made from deer hide, covered in about a centuries worth of dust and debris, the womans feet are bare.

Roleplay Notes

September 2011

Aubrey

There's no art of Aubrey.

Description

A woman in her mid twenties is sitting in the middle of the room meditating. She is wearing a handful of tanks on her back of different hues. There are tubes going from each of them into the core of her body. Knobs and switches adorn panels along her wrists and forearms. Her eyes snap open, as if someone or something, keyed her into something. She stands giving a knob a turn and one of the tubes start to fill with a glowing yellow liquid, slowly inching to her body. When it does, her hands crackle with energy. She walks off, with long strides on following the unheard voice.

Biography

She comes from Ravnica, beyond the Forgotten Realms.

Roleplay Logs

Log: 21122012 - Quyen and Aubrey

OOC commentary: First time roleplay between Aubrey and Quyen.