Chikachu

((So you are aware, only those currently on the Adunian Registry's votes will be counted.))

((Guys, you have to be Adunian to vote on this.))

((Guys, you have to be Adunian to vote on this.))

((As a note, make it so only Adunians can vote.))

((Laaaaaaanvel. You forgot someone))

((Sorry for the OOC, but for future reference, the Druids were invited. Small mistake was made in that. Terribly sorry.!!))

King Lachlan Mor Elendil paces as he dictates what should be written in regard of the Adunians. "The Adunians shall be attending this meeting for the sake of Anthos. We are in number four; myself, Lachlan Mor, and three advisors: Hernan Tuairnear, Hanrahan Brae, and Marshal Gavin Douglas. We come in peace and with good greetings toward all others who may attend." ((Saturday sounds good for those Adunians I've talked to.About four EST? What is that GMT?))

MC Name: chikaea Character Name: Kay Elendil Relation to Clan: The Son of Isabella Elendil Character Age: 12 Time Spent on Server: Um... not sure if that means on this character or not... Two months or so on Kay, almost a year total Short Character Bio: Only a few short minutes after Kay was born, his father, then Artorus Hightower, sent him away to be the pretend son of a friend, Galendar Aveere. Kay was raised to believe that he was an Aveere, until the recent death of his father who had now taken the name Elendil. Kay was brought back from the Aveere family to join his mother as a proper Adunian. ((Dere you goes Owl.))

Anger. It had always been one of Artorus' weaknesses, his damnable anger. He was even angry at his anger: that was how much it seemed to just flow out of him. It didn't matter who he was talking to, it didn't matter the situation he was reacting to, the anger was always the same. And now, as his anger at the situation he was in, his powerless, pathetic situation, began to fade: he cursed himself. Manacles locked onto his wrists, being half dragged, half pushed to the Keep of the Lion in Oren's capital city, somehow the situation seemed to bring on a bit of thought to his thick skull. He hadn't exactly expected the knights to appear in the tavern where he and his wife had been literally at eachothers throats. He hadn't expected them to, naturally, know and love Bella, while they were completely oblivious to himself. It wasn't unexpected, but it certainly made things complicated. His brain was working in faster time than normal as he was dragged into the dungeon and thrown into a cell, awaiting his apparent trial - or was it just punishment? - and he let his head fall back. How was he going to get out of this one? He could hear them putting Bella in the next cell, could almost feel her pain. Why had he done it? He never liked seeing Bella hurting, and yet in his anger he had given away the one secret he had always wanted to keep. Their son... little Kay. He was alive, and well, and living in Salvus the last Artorus had checked. And he had told Bella the boy was alive. He had always known she would leave him if she ever found out. He always knew that she wouldn't be able to stand the fact that he had lied to her, and that he had told her the child was dead. Now, the idea that the boy was alive was going to ruin him even more surely than his lashing out at her before. He wanted to hang his head in his hands in shame: he knew what he had become back there in the tavern. He had become his father: he had become Lancel Hightower as certainly as Bella had said. Cold, malicious, always political, always wanting more power. He had become the monster that he had left the family to get away from. He wanted to choke. How could he have said such horrible things to her? How could he have said such terrible and angry, and utterly thoughtless things. The door to his cell opened slowly and Artorus looked up to see the knight who had found them enter the room. He was dressed in the uniform that distinguished him as a very high ranking member of the Chapter, and he closed the door behind him slowly. Immediately, Artorus could sense the difference in the man from when he was on the street to when he was in this cell. Artorus was not going to leave this cell without grave injuries. The knight approached, and Artorus could see the hand on his sword hilt. For some reason however, he wasn't afraid. There was something about the situation that just told him, "Don't worry. It won't be too much longer now." They spoke for a moment, the two men, and it wasn't long before the knight's sword found Artorus' neck. "Any last words?" the knight asked coldly. Artorus could feel the cold metal against his skin and he sighed slightly. He really should feel more nervous, he realized, but for some reason there wasn't any fear. He just looked up at the knight, and took a breath. "I love you, Isabella," he said, "I love you, and I'm sorry. Take care of our son for me, like I should have." When Artorus had finished he looked at the man who was to be his murderor and said no more. Then the sword was raised and passed through his neck as easily as it likely had many others. And so passed Artorus Elendil II, formerly Artorus Hightower, the eldest son of Lancel Hightower, and also known by the title of the Lord Inquisitor Blood the Hunter. He leaves behind his young wife, Isabella Elendil, Lady of Adunia, and his son Kay Elendil. May he rest in peace wherever his body now lies. ((Sorry it took me a few days to post this, but this was incredibly hard to write. A part of myself was still in shock the past couple of days that he actually is dead, and I've seriously considered pulling a whole: "Monks revived him" thing, but I always promised myself that if my character died properly I would kill him off. I've never like it when they just keep coming back. Besides, I'm liking my new character plenty, and there's a lot of roleplay that's happened that would be kinda pointless if he were alive. So this is my way of making it official. Artorus is dead. He's not coming back. There will be no reviving by the monks or any such thing. I mean, should a necromancer actually come and revive him that would be... weird... but oh well. And Ludvic, GTFO my body you creepy mo-fo.))

[b]Out-Of-Character Information[/b] Please fill out the following questions as accurately as possible, and ensure the essential details are accurate. Main Account Name: chikaea Alternate Account Name: Maliigne How old are you?: 19 Time-Zone: Mountain Standard Time Have you read, understood and agreed to the rules?: Of course What previous experience have you had in role-playing?: Besides almost a year on Lord of the Craft, I have been roleplaying in several different forms since I was about 12 years old. Definitions In your own words define the following terms. Do not take any definitions from elsewhere!: Role-playing: Playing a character in a nonexistant world. Meta-gaming: Taking real life knowledge your character wouldn't know and using in in character. Power-emoting: Forcing your emote or action on another persons character In-Character Information: Complete the following biography on your character: Full Name: Countess Eligne'leh Ishikawa Current Age: 104 Race: Elf Sub-race (if any): Mali'ame (Wood Elf) Past / History (include childhood, major-events, etc. 2+ paragraphs long): Elleh was born and raised in a sort of Elvish commune, a group of wood elves who had secluded themselves from the rest of Malinor. They worshipped fire, and called it the source of life, the second life and the death of all creatures. Elleh, being born with red hair, was declared to be the physical embodiment of fire, and she was pampered and taken care of her whole life, rarely seen even by other members of the commune. Though she was treated well, she was also treated like a doll, and when she finally decided that she had learned all she could, she ran away. Life on the road proved to be harder than Elleh expected, and she soon found herself starving and suffering in ways she had never known. Eventually she found her way to the Cloud Temple of Asulon, where she settled down, taking up a place in the Monk's guest rooms. It was one day wandering the cloud temple that she met Kais Ishikawa, then only a baron, and they fell in love. He brought her back with him to Oren where they were married. Elleh gave birth to a daughter a few years after their marriage, naming her Ignii, or little fire. Though her daughter eventually joined the rest of Oren society, Elleh found herself a bit daunted by the task, prefering to hide in their mountain keep that to come and join the rest of Oren. Not much else has happened to Elleh since, though she has kept an emmaculate house and done very well at keeping Kais in line. Ambitions for the Future: Elleh eventually wants to learn fire magic, though she has been unsure so far as to where to start. Since their coming to the new land, Elleh has also decided that she needs to be there more often for Kais, and she is taking more of an interest in Oren Politics. Personality: She is very head strong and stubborn. She is sure of her self, and very confidant, often to the point of narcissism. She has an obsession with fire, and a rather sadistic one at that. Skills: She is very good at anything that takes place in the house: cooking, cleaning, stitching, sewing, embroidery, and so on and so forth. She has little skill in anything else. Appearance (this must include an in-game screenshot of your skin): (Unfortunately, due to trouble with my computer, I am unable to produce a screenshot. Hopefully I will be able to before it is reviewed, but no guarentee.) Elleh has long red hair and golden eyes. Her skin is very pale from being inside for most of the day and most of her life. She wears a purple and silver dress from the East, where her husband is from, and usually her hair is pulled into a ponytail or a braid. Any other details you wish to share about your character: None that I can think of right now. Thank you.

Seeing the look in Thomas' eye, Artorus followed his gaze silently, settling on Sarkozy and his smile faded. He turned back to Thomas with a look of his own, his eyes not focusing on Thomas, but not sad, or ashamed, more like... disappointed. He looked up at Thomas, his gaze firm. He felt the man at his back, and heard Adreon's words, a small smile crossed his face, though his eyes remained hard, "Have no worries Adeon. I will not embarrass you like that. I understand." He looked back at Thomas, his smile changing slightly, and his expressions softening slightly, looking almost sorrowful. "You used to be such a good man, Lord Chivay. I suppose I shouldn't have expected better. Power has corrupted you as surely as it does many." Artorus' smile returned to a polite one, and he nodded to the other company before proceeding out, leading Isabella with a warm smile on his face. "Such a pity," He muttered under his breath to Isabella, "I didn't want to have to pay a visit later, but I see now that it can't be avoided. Thomas has failed the test."

"Isabella! Love! We'll be fashionably late as it is, if this goes on much longer we'll border on rudely late, and that is certainly not how I'd like to attend my first party as your husband." Artorus Elendil II chuckled lightly, pacing slightly in the foyer as he awaited his wife to come down the stairs. He had to confess, he was nervous, but it came with the territory. This would likely be the first time he saw his family since he was married, and that could end disasterously. Still, he had determined to be nothing but polite to everyone there, and he would tread very carefully. Artorus turned to see Isabella coming down carefully, looking properly beautiful, as she always did, and he smiled, "I really don't see what all the fuss was about, you look lovely," he said with a laugh. "Is it really neccessary for us to attend?" Isabella asked quietly, "So many nobles... and so few of them with high opinions of Adunians or Elendils." Artorus' smile wavered a bit, but he forced it to stay in place, approaching his wife and offering her a hand to help her down the remaining steps. Carefully he kissed her cheek. "If we are going to change anyone's opinion, we are going to have to put ourselves out there. I am on at least moderately friendly terms with the Chivays. I have nothing but respect for them and the way that they do things. They are proper hosts, and they will keep everyone else civil. We have nothing to worry about." Isabella sighed, but followed Artorus carefully as they went to the horses, Artorus helping Isabella on her own before climbing onto his and they set off. Artorus tried not to think much during the traveling, prefering to keep his eyes on the road, until they arrived at the keep. Everything looked fantastic, and Artorus smiled as they dismounted. Isabella was quiet, her eyes downcast, but as Artorus led her into the hall and they were announced, he kept a very polite smile on his face, nodding to the nobles he knew and those he didn't equally. He kept his eyes gently, but examined everyone in the hall, noticing his rather rambunctious family first, and quickly steering away, noticing Thomas Chivay instead, with the Valois and Julius. His smile brightened a bit and he approached them, bowing politely, "Lord Chivay, Lady Countess, Lady Duchess, Sir Volsung." His smile brightened a bit, "Baron," He turned his attention to Lord Chivay particularly, keeping his smile, "The place looks fantastic, it is quite the pleasure to see inside. It's quite a pleasure to be inside at all, let alone among such wonderful display. I must confess I didn't know the Chivay's had the eye for decorating as well as their skill in leading the Rose. I am glad to be shown the truth."

Little Kay sits at his semi-adoptive father's feet, playing intently with a bit of string. He seems to be mostly oblivious to the goings-on around him, instead very focused on shakingthe string around in his hand. A simple trinket sits around his neck, gleaming faintly in the light. To young to undrstand the purpose of the festival, he stays patiently by his father, kept under close watch by the maids in the area, and prevented from moving an inch away from the stage.

Fantastic Geo. As usual, and as I'm coming to expect, you've Gone above and beyond. Good luck with this. +1

Artorus travels carefully to the grave site in the cover of darkness, careful not to be seen making this journey. Though he wished to visit the grave of his old friend, he knew that what needed to be said, could not be said in front of any others. When he arrived at the site, however, he stopped in a grove of trees at the top, staring in horror at the scene before him. His temper flares. How dare anyone touch the grave of the man who had been a father to him, moreso than his proper father! However, he couldn't be seen. Not like this, it would be suspicious. He couldn't be seen, but someone else could. Slowly, hidden in the cover of the trees, Artorus reaches into his bag and removes a compact gray bundle of cloth, and a strange metal helmet. Still hidden, he unravels the cloth, and begins to change...

MC Username: Chikaea Rp Username (be sure to include the correct prefix, look up on info thread): S'Isiris Character Skillset: Most, if not all of Isiris' skills focus around fighting. Archery, hand-to-hand combat, the art of ambush, knife-fighting, and such. She can cook, and she fish as well, but to Isiris these are the minor of her skills, and she usually leaves them to others. Appearance (age, SUBRACE, gender): Isiris is a slender Kha'Leparda with cautious golden eyes and long hair, left to hang around her face, though she will pull it back when she needs to hunt or fight in order to keep it out of her way. She stands at 6'4", though only other Kha will see her standing at her full height. With Non-Kha, she crouches, ready to attack to defend as neccessary. Personality: Stubborn. Isiris is, above all, stubborn. She hates it when she doesn't get her way, and she will fight tooth and nail to get her way. Still, she understand respect, and though she may not show her respect at first, once she is scolded she will be obediant and do as she is told, though she will likely grumble about it after. She is very blunt, and doesn't always understand the point of beating around the bush or telling half-truths. That isn't to say she doesn't lie, but she either lies, or doesn't lie, she won't resort to that kind of trickery. Isiris is also very emotional. Her emotions rule a lot of what she does, and it shows in her actions. When she is angry, she is furious, when she is happy, she is extatic, when she is sad, she is miserable, and so on, and her actions stem from whatever feelings she is experiencing at the time. Please include a short bio of your character's life: Growing up, Isiris was always told about her mother, who had died only a few short months after she was born. Whether it was true or not, Isiris was always told that her mother had been the perfect Kha, and that everything she had done was better than everyone else. When she began to interact with the other kittens, she decided that it was her destiny to be like her mother and be better than the others at everything. However, though she fought hard for this to be true, she found one kitten often pulled ahead of her - his name was Scicle. Furious at Scicle's continued winning, Isiris began to throw every weapon she could at the poor kitten. She pointed out every flaw in everything he did, and made it a chore to find everything wrong with his work. In the meantime, she would practice the best she could to beat Scicle at everything he tried. When it eventually showed that she would never surpass him in the creative arts - writing, cooking, studying - Isiris threw herself even more into fighting and hunting, doing her best to perfect herself in every way at them. Then, one day, Scicle left, shortly after he became an adult. Three years and two months his junior, Isiris still wasn't even an adult Kha yet and found herself wishing she could follow him. He had so much been the focus of her young life, that Isiris found she didn't know what to do with herself once he was gone. Suddenly the main focus that had kept her going was gone, and she couldn't find her footing once the balance was off. The first time she went through her trial of adulthood, she failed, and miserably, although there was no reason for her to fail. Whatever the reason, she just couldn't do it. After suceeding the second time, Isiris attempted to take up her place as an adult, but found that she just couldn't manage it. After a year of trying, Isiris gave up with a fury and ran away, deciding to live out her life in the wilds. Character's ambitions: Isiris doesn't have any conscious ambitions, other than the day to day ambitions of survival. However, unconciously Isiris yearns for home and the place she grew up. Though she still is concious of her inabillity to fit in, she wishes desperately to return and take up her place among the Khara'jyr. She also, though even deeper, wishes to find Scicle again, telling herself that it was just to prove that she had become the better of the two. _---Situational Rp Questions---_ 1. As you travel through the Karakatuan jungle, you spot a human trespassing on your nation's lands. He approaches you, obviously distressed, and asks for any food, water, or shelter that you can provide, then tells you that he has been lost in the area for days without any proper supplies. How do you react?: Isiris glares at the ape as he begs, but straightens slightly with a smug look on her face. "Yu askka Isiris fur help?" she laughs, a confidant laugh, with her head thrown back. She whips her head back down to look at the ape, her fangs glistening slightly in the dim light of the forest. "Iffa yu wanta help frum me, yu will haf tu catch up tu me." And with that, and another short bark of laughter she spins on her heel and dashes off into the underbrush, leaving the human weak, tired and alone int he dangerous jungle. 2. As you romp through the lands of the "apes", you come across a tavern. Inside this tavern, a Dwarf notices you and starts gawking at you, then begins to speak. "Oi! I gots a bowl of cream for you, Kitty! Ha! I'd bet you would make a nice throw rug, wouldn't ya, ya mangy furball?!" He continues act generally as racist as possible. What do you do?: Isiris whips around to face the dwarf, a snarl on her face. She dips into a crouch and the next moment she shoots toward the dwarf, tackling him and drawing her knife in a swift motion, bringing it down to plunge it into the soft flesh of his gut. She holds him, pinned to the ground, and twists the knife, whispering in his ear, "Such a beeg middle, I am shure yu won'ta meess eet much. Puur leettle fat un. Purhapsa we shoulda get yu a stuul su yu can stand uppa tu da beeg... keetteh." She snarls and twists the knife again, making the dwarf squirm, then removes it, standing up to allow the dwarf to stand. She smirks at him in triumph as he lays on the ground, and then promptly sashays her way out of the tavern. 3. One of your fellow Kharajyr and a close friend of yours comes to your dwelling in the middle of the night and begins to pound on your door. After you let him in, he confesses to killing another Kharajyr over a slice of cake. What do you do in response? Isiris stares at her friend in shock, her eyes widening and her mouth opening slightly as she stares at them. She then bares her fangs and throws the nearest piece of furniture at them. "Geet out!" she screeches, reaching for a weapon this time and drawing it, furnishing it at them. "Yu du not come herra and breeng yur crimesa with yu. Naow geet out, befur I throw yu out on mai knife!" And with that she follows the former friend, brandishing her knife in front of her and jabbing towards them whenever they appear to not be heading toward the door. Once they are gone she sighs, her anger leaving her and misery replacing it at losing a friend, and she curls up on the floor away from the door and begins to cry. Do you swear to follow the Tlatlanni and uphold his law, and do you swear to hold Metztli and all of her actions as sacred? Yes. Please include a screenshot or 3D render of your character's skin

Thanks for keeping us updated Native! I'm sure everyone appreciates it.