YouKnowItsJuno

Far, far away, in Saltstone, a young lady sits on a cliff overlooking the sea. She looks out a the choppy waters below - so different than that of her life in the desert. She breathes in the cold, salty air and looks down at the brand on her wrist - the white mark of Vrogak'Gorkil, Rex of the Iron Uzg. Having heard news of his death and the disappearance of the Warmistress, Kiri'Gorkil, she sat and thought of her former masters. She speaks softly, her voice carried away by the wind.

"I came to you a scared little girl... and I became valuable in your eyes - valuable enough for you to chase after. Now you are gone, and I am finally free... and I am steel."

Eastin Dia Trading Company

I see what you did there...

Xanthe Fletcher, on the road to the city of the high elves, comes across a warning poster.

"I think I saw that phoenix when we downed those ghouls the other day, now that I remember it..."

On a bright sunny day in Valior, a lone figure walked across the fields and forests on the road towards Oren lands. Having just gotten off the boat, the young woman tried to keep her thoughts far from the long sea journey to these lands.

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Xanthe Fletcher, daughter of the fletcher of a small village in Athera, had come on a ship to Valior. Along the way, through the great chaos that happened on the seas, he was tossed from the boat by a wave and that was that; she had nothing to bury. Distraught, alone, and with no minas to her name, Xanthe came up with ideas to support herself and find protection in the strange new land. Finally, she determined she would best be able to do so by finding a noble house and asking to serve as a handmaiden for a lady. With that, she packed the few free provisions the monks gave out at the new temple and trudged off towards Oren.

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As she approached a bridge, she passed by two masked men. Nervously, she walked on until one called out, "Pardon me, miss!" She stopped, and that was her biggest mistake.

It wasn't long until they drew swords and encircled her. Unarmed, Xanthe reached out for the edge of the bridge, ready to jump if she had to. But they distracted her and one of them slammed the pommel of his sword into her right temple and she blacked out.

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When she awoke again, they were in the forest. In horror, she realized she was bound and gagged. Her attackers asked her many questions and searched her. Disappointed, they realized she had nothing and had no one to pay her ransom, so again they hit her in the head to knock her out and shoved her in a dirty, coarse potato sack in order to transport her on the road with minimal suspicion.

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It was two days later. Bruised, cramped, hungry, and sick from being cold and wet (for it rained most of the time they traveled), Xanthe constantly cried and lamented her bad luck. She had heard the whispers of where they were to go, and it struck fear into her heart. Her worst fears were realized whenever she started to grow hot and sweaty, on top of her raging fever. They were in the desert.

Her heart skipped a beat when the leader of the two bandits spoke to someone, and it was answered by a deep, guttural voice just barely understandable to her. Orcs.

"...came across a fine human specimen in our travels, fine tuned and house trained - how would you like to be the new owner of a fine young slave?" The smooth, conniving voice of the bandit said.

"Agh, gib mi da gurl," said a female orc, her voice demanding.

Huge, lumbering footsteps could be heard as two more orcs approached. "Waghzhief... tayke da znaga...," he turned towards the two bandits, who's sly grins had faltered and were replaced with ones of fear. "Mi am Rehx Vrogak'Gorkil. Latz gib mi znaga az tribuyte?"

Scared out of asking for coin for her, the bandit leader nodded sullenly. "Indeed... ah... tribute..."

With that, Xanthe was dumped out of the sack. Blinking up at the harsh desert sun, she weakly looked at the three huge, lumbering orcs and her two captors, who were already walking quickly off. She was pulled to her feet by the one called the "Warchief", and she was dragged along into the palace.

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Later she knelt before the Rex in his palace. Looking up at him, her vision blurred from being weak and sick. He stood up from his throne, stepping forward to grab her hair and remove her binds. She looked up at him with wide, scared brown eyes.

Grabbing her chin, he regarded her thoughtfully. "Hozh znaga... Kiri, latz kan kip 'er."

Stepping forward, the female orc spoke. "Hozh, manee rulg, Rex," She knelt down and took Xanthe's chin from the Rex. "Latz belung tu mi nao, gruk?"

Eyes full of tears, Xanthe nodded.

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Later, she was awoken from her small tower room by Kiri'Gorkil, her new mistress. She took her up to the volcano, where many more orcs were already gathered above the pit of lava at the zenith of the mountain. The Rex held one of her captors - apparently his bandit leader had left him to die at the hands of the orcs when they were captured in the desert. The bandit met Xanthe's eye, his own fear reflected in her own. He slowly turned towards the Rex, then with a look of defiance, he spat at him. Angrily, the Rex lifted one great foot and kicked the bandit into the lake of fire.

With a scream, Xanthe turned away, covering her mouth with a hand. Stepping away from the cheering orcs, she knelt down and vomited.

So this was her life, enslaved.

[Had to write about this, probably the most eventful roleplay I've had in a while. Thanks to colaone1, friar5, ShannonLeigh, Arteh, and Origin_Lark (because he's beautiful).]

Somewheres, Roxanne weeps after hearing of the death of her brother.

"Ye were annoyin', bu' ye was an amusin' little broth'a..." She sniffles through tears, a shaky smile on her lips.

Isra Jharar, who cannot read, hears some chatter in the bazaar about the ball. With disappointment, she realizes that she may not be able to attend, or, at the very least, she would be late.

While wandering about the bazaar in Al-Dirakh, Isra Jharar hears word of this healer in Salvus. Intrigued, she plans to visit when she next sails back to the mainland. Perhaps she could find help... or at the very least, find answers.

Isra is going to love to hear this! :D

Personally, Heffy (<3) has asked me to come back to play a halfling and I have been considering it. The only things really keeping me from doing so are:

1. Feedback saying that the halfling town is kind of devoid of halflings most of the time. Since the playerbase is so small, roleplay should be centralized to give people a better chance of roleplaying with you. I remember a time when there was a pumpkin wall around the town and those who wanted to pass through had to talk to a halfling guard about passing. It created some very entertaining and engaging roleplay.
2. Lack of drama/conflict - I realize that halflings are to be silly and easy-going, which I absolutely love about this race. What I'm trying to get at is that what makes other races attractive is their seriousness that leads to conflict and drama - which in turn creates good roleplay. How will the problem be resolved? And sure, halflings have their own kind of conflicts, but they tend to be much milder than that of other races. Most events they have are festivals and parties. Perhaps events like a fire in a hobbit hole that has taken all of an individual's few possessions and bed causes the rest of the community to try to help them get back on their feet, or a trickster (I love this idea someone presented upon bringing this back to the race - forgot the name atm, though, sorry!) who steals things in the middle of the night and the town has to band together to find his hidden stash. You could easily come up with race-appropriate, conflict-including events that everyone could participate in.
3. When I did play a halfling, I felt like she didn't have much of a role in the community. There were a few, like the sheriff and mayor, who had roles, but for the most part halflings farmed whenever they needed food, they bartended for themselves, and they went fishing whenever they wanted fish. I think that having professions - and making these roles (for the most part, of course people can garden, fish, or go strawberry-picking for recreation) restricted, meaning only someone with that profession can do that specific job for a living, would help members feel like their characters are important members of the halfling community. I do not know how it is now, but in the past this is how it was - or it seemed to be - for me. This is more of a suggestion and isn't an objection I have like my first two points.

These are just a few of the things I've noticed - if you all are thinking about forwarding the halfling community for the better, I'd be happy to join in.

Sits in her house, blissfully unaware.

To the High Chancellor, Tristin Tesery, and other governing individuals of Laureh'lin,

It would be the greatest of honors if you would allow the representatives of the great Caliph of Khalestine, Faiz Kharadeen, to come before you and extend to you our hand of friendship. We, the Safeeras Jemila Shahzada and Isra Jharar, plan to arrive within one elven day to the great Province of Laureh'lin to discuss matters of friendship and possibly trade with you and to answer any questions you might have about our distant nation. If you wish to discuss any trade, we ask that you also receive our Court Tajooru, Finian Goldhand, as well. If you will have us, we plan to stay for an extended period of time to serve as emissaries from the Caliphate. We apologize for the short notice, but hope that you will receive us nonetheless.

With all our best wishes and hopes to meet you soon,

Safeera Isra Jharar

Safeera Jemila Shahzada

OOC: Basically, trying to get some good roleplay between the Caliphate and yourselves. Hopefully it will boost roleplayers in both nations, and open up new opportunities. If you have questions, just ask Juno_Ax or JameiG.

Upon hearing the news, Isra simply smiles and packs her few belongings to take with her on her travels.

Isra Jharar later hears of the fall of Hammon, a man she never got to meet, and Enepay's involvement.

"... What happened, Enepay?" She asks softly to herself, as she sits on her rooftop garden and reflects on the events that had happened in her absence.

   :D If one of my characters ever has another kid, I'd love to have you rp her. I remember you being good at child rp.

Oh thank you~ I must admit I enjoyed playing a child... they are quite fun.

I remember you! 

TAYLORRR! I miss you, Abner was the best; I was proud to be your daughter ;)

 

Join Oren and your set

 

Oh Oren...~

Hellloooooo!

Hi there!

A servant of House Ashford's courts :^)

  I don't know if you remember Malog, the orc in Gronkkston whom one of your characters considered her good friend, even though she never knew what he was saying.

Yessss! That was some of the cutest/weirdest rp I've ever had XD

Mayhaps you could play a bastard of Caspar de Gueux? ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

Who now?

Come back! :(

I'm considering... I just need a good rp niche to jump into. Starting into LOTC is never fun unless you already got friends on the inside/have a niche your character can be born into.

HI

Hi there, I think I remember you :)

Hi again, guys. It's been quite a few months since I left LOTC and the forums, and I just wanted to pop in and say hi / ask who remembers me or can recall a time we've roleplayed together. It would warm my heart <3 I don't know if I'm gonna stick around and hop back onto the server, since a lot has changed in my absence (I still don't know the full extent of the changes, if someone would like to inform me, that'd be splendid). But for now,

Hi.

Dzadi pulls on her worn leather boots, sitting on a rock outside. Beside her is no gear, no weapon, no companion. Alone, she sat and thought, meditating on the task at hand. She and her fellow beardlings were off to go and kill a mass of wolves. She was scared, yes, but her desire to prove herself to her clan was greater than that fear.

And with a grin, she tied her hair back and stood up, ready to go.

Riddeth Thunderfist-Irongrinder rolls in her grave. There were female dwarves. But now they are extinct.

Except for Ellsia (you go gurl).

A dainty-looking woman with hair as dark as night walks up to the notice, reads it carefully, and then signs her name under the test of wits.

Rowena Elendil

Cool guy is cool. Make him trial GM, please! +1!

Roxanne Willowbottom crosses her arms as she watches Fumble prepare a place for Ophelia. She narrows her eyes, lips in a pout. This better not be one of Fumble's weird girlfriends again...

((It's not a noble house. It's just a well-cultured family who hope to one day reach house status at the minimum. Not really much here, just a family of artists and a couple fighters.))