Crayfishchris

The great and wonderful power of the skygods.

Player Whitelisted

Player Whitelisted

In the world of Thales... All was not silent in the small village of Elves. The hastily constructed households and various workstations littered the streets, haphazardly placed in order to get them to work as quickly as possible. Approximately half a dozen houses stood, each holding three or four elves in a family. The rest worked on the walls, or in the mines, or simply sat and read. But they were not the ones creating this noise. No, for Elves generally hold a peaceful silence above all other qualities of their cities. Reverent whispering in the corner would generally be the loudest sound you could hear, unless someone of the other races was bungling about in their cities. Listen closely, and you could tell what the sound was. It echoed through the half-made streets. It swooped around and caught people in its grasp. Some would turn tail and walk swiftly away. Some would twitch their ears, but remain seated. The cry of an infant echoed through the Elven town, a sound that had not been heard in a very long while. For a child had been born to the mali'aheral, the first one to be documented since the age of Lin'everal. What would become of this newborn? What would he do in life? The answers remain unknown, still, but it was indeed the start of a new story. ((Take that, you silly curse. The child's name is Athri Maehrindor, born to Yulnii and Galanthil))

Solution: Be an anti-mage : ^ )

With the switch of the map, it may be a while before folks can afford those prices, aha. I'll give you a virtual hug, if you want?

Steven Location - Cathedral Status - Currently in a cluster **** "WHAT THE- FRIENDLY! FRIENDLY! FRIENDLY!" That was Steven's call as he looked between all the people present at the Cathedral. He counted 4... no... 5. No, maybe it was 4. He couldn't tell at this exact moment. Looking at Jules with his hands up, Steven began to sweat and shake, how he normally acted when in a stressful situation. "See?" he said slowly, "No... wea... pon. I'm... friendly..." His eyes glanced towards the man pounding on the door, the ones inside, and the others running towards the Cathedral. This could get ugly, very quickly. ((Sorry for short post, hard to do this on the go. I'll do more in depth later))

I'll check in the morning, but I believe I'm level 5.

Does it matter if we suck? Aha :P

Steven Location - House in Amiens Steven lay on his back in an empty house. It had been empty for months, he suspected, as dust had gathered in every corner and there was next to nothing in its pantry. He hadn't had any food since he ate his last granola bar... yesterday? Two days ago? He had nothing left besides his bright red backpack and the clothes on his back. A knife as well, but it was dull and scratched beyond belief. "Bloody hell... I... urgh..." the groaning of his stomach interrupted him, and he bent over double. The dusty windows let in a sliver of musky light, and they let in a cool breeze when he opened them. Though it felt good against his stubbly, unshaven face, it set his stomach off on another series of groans. "Grmm.... urg..." Food. Food would be very good. Yeah. And water. Such simple pleasures, yet completely missing from his daily life. Bang. Bang. Bang. Shots rang out across the town. Another poor sap getting killed, most likely. Inside Steven's foot and water deprived mind, his mind began thinking out various scenarios. He could go to the stores and shops in town. There could be food and water, but most likely bandits and vandals as well. He could make for the countryside, but he wouldn't make it in time. He didn't have enough food. Maybe... he could head for the Cathedral. He had never been religious... but he was sure that anywhere was better than here. Maybe he'd find a kind pastor, or a store of food. Places like that always had food stored somewhere for drives or... you know. Things. Maybe... he just needed to move. With a groan, he got up and out the door, headed at a brisk jog for the Cathedral.

It's not a sport.

Track is life.

*A note is posted* Why learn magic, llir, when you could learn Fi'hiiran'tanya, the anti-magic? Send a bird to Tahn'siol, the city of Elves. Trust me, there are many things you could learn. I await your presence.

Forum Name: Crayfishchris Character Name: Steven Harding Career/Job/Study: Previously was a failing artist Traits/Capabilities [Can be one-word form like 'carpenter' or elaborated, both will do]: -Painter (he sold something for 1000 pounds once) -Sketching skill -Slightly athletic (can run the mile in 6 minutes, dontcha know) -British (not really a trait, just enjoy it) -Good with computers -Gregarious Bio [Optional!]: Steven was born in a small town called Lovedean, outside of Portsmouth. His parents were two minimum wage workers at a local store. When he was twelve, his parents moved to London to find work, and he moved along with them. At his new school, he found himself surrounded by more people than he had ever known in his life, just at one school. A bit overwhelmed, he found himself at ease in this new home. He joined local groups involving music and art, and found a new home there. His passion became art, and he dropped out of college at age 18 to pay for his sister's schooling and to follow his newfound dream, to become a famous artist (no one really mentioned that most artists become famous after death). He worked in London and managed a full-time, minimum wage job, barely finding time to work his passion. He did sell paintings and drawings from time to time, but it never really ended up working out. His parents died when he was 20 and he took care of his sister until age 21, when the world... well, collapsed. She was killed in a riot in London's streets, trampled to death by hundreds of other civilians. Now he's on his own, with no family, friends, job, and nowhere to go. He wandered until he entered Amiens.