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Sword of Valor, Wrath of the Righteous AP Part 2 with your hosts Scotley and MLeibrock
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<blockquote data-quote="Shayuri" data-source="post: 6314616" data-attributes="member: 4936"><p><span style="color: #008080">"Elementals are crap scouts."</span></p><p></p><p>It was Thorn, as diplomatic as ever. She was tucked in behind a piece of wall that was still standing, peeking out around it to glare at the tower as if it had personally offended her.</p><p></p><p>[sblock=What does she look like?][ATTACH]62164[/ATTACH][ATTACH]62165[/ATTACH][/sblock]</p><p></p><p><span style="color: #008080">"Quick, but don't know how to stay out of sight. And they don't understand tactics, or people, so they don't know what to look for."</span></p><p></p><p>She was fairly tall, lean and rangy of build almost to the point of skinniness. Her hair was dark and cut short in an uneven mop. She cut her own hair with a dagger. Thorn never let anyone get near her with anything sharp. She was dressed in dark greys...having given up the chain shirt she'd worn under Kenebres for a specially-ordered cuirass that had been painted with a deep charcoal hue. Beyond that, her trousers, hood and cloak were all variations on that color scheme which made for a boring ensemble that nevertheless was very good for fading into the shadows and stones of the shattered city.</p><p></p><p>The only points of color were her eyes. They'd been dark before, but ever since the Wardstone broke, they'd turned an unsettling pale shade of blue...as if whatever essence had filled her had only that one place to leak out.</p><p></p><p>Her left arm had a complicated-looking bracer; also a special order. It was designed with a metal and leather 'shell' that could rotate around her arm. Her weapon of choice was wrapped around it with one end loose. When battle was joined, she pulled on that hard, and the whole thing unwound like a spool on a loom, quickly putting the viciously barbed chain into her hands.</p><p></p><p>She called it 'Thorn's Kiss.' From the beginning she'd had it; a thick, sturdy chain of dark cold iron, with twists of sharp metal interspersed down its length. It looked like the sort of thing that would be impossible to use safely...but Thorn seemed to know where to hold it without even looking. Her hands still had many faint scars to bear witness to the painful road she'd taken to gain that intimate familiarity. With her share of the loot from the cultists, she'd paid the expensive cost to have that antimagical chain forcibly enchanted. Sometimes it moved now, on her arm, seemingly of its own accord; the dangling tip of it questing like the head of a serpent for a moment before going limp again.</p><p></p><p>During the long series of battles they'd fought under Kenebres, several things had become clear about Thorn. There was no room for artifice in her, neither for deceit nor for fun and games. Her bedside manner was nothing short of atrocious, and the only times she seemed to smile was when combating demons and their minions. In the beginning she'd shared nothing of herself or story...only contributing her skills and combat prowess. Thorn had proved to be capable at stealth and scouting, and had a quick hand and a knack for spotting and undoing traps as well. For all that, she was no thief or cutpurse and took umbrage at being mistaken for one. What she lacked in social graces she'd made up for with deeds though, showing courage and loyalty in the difficult battles waged in the dark places under the city. And at the end, when victory seemed far away, it seemed like she'd started to open up more.</p><p></p><p>Change took time though it seemed, because she was back in form.</p><p></p><p><span style="color: #008080">"I'll check it out, see if anyone's still inside and how many they are,"</span> Thorn concluded.<span style="color: #008080"> "If you hear a bird call that isn't a raven or vulture, come running."</span></p><p></p><p>A raven or vulture call would have been silly of course. There were far too many of those in the city to tell hers apart from them.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Shayuri, post: 6314616, member: 4936"] [COLOR="#008080"]"Elementals are crap scouts."[/COLOR] It was Thorn, as diplomatic as ever. She was tucked in behind a piece of wall that was still standing, peeking out around it to glare at the tower as if it had personally offended her. [sblock=What does she look like?][ATTACH=CONFIG]62164._xfImport[/ATTACH][ATTACH=CONFIG]62165._xfImport[/ATTACH][/sblock] [COLOR="#008080"]"Quick, but don't know how to stay out of sight. And they don't understand tactics, or people, so they don't know what to look for."[/COLOR] She was fairly tall, lean and rangy of build almost to the point of skinniness. Her hair was dark and cut short in an uneven mop. She cut her own hair with a dagger. Thorn never let anyone get near her with anything sharp. She was dressed in dark greys...having given up the chain shirt she'd worn under Kenebres for a specially-ordered cuirass that had been painted with a deep charcoal hue. Beyond that, her trousers, hood and cloak were all variations on that color scheme which made for a boring ensemble that nevertheless was very good for fading into the shadows and stones of the shattered city. The only points of color were her eyes. They'd been dark before, but ever since the Wardstone broke, they'd turned an unsettling pale shade of blue...as if whatever essence had filled her had only that one place to leak out. Her left arm had a complicated-looking bracer; also a special order. It was designed with a metal and leather 'shell' that could rotate around her arm. Her weapon of choice was wrapped around it with one end loose. When battle was joined, she pulled on that hard, and the whole thing unwound like a spool on a loom, quickly putting the viciously barbed chain into her hands. She called it 'Thorn's Kiss.' From the beginning she'd had it; a thick, sturdy chain of dark cold iron, with twists of sharp metal interspersed down its length. It looked like the sort of thing that would be impossible to use safely...but Thorn seemed to know where to hold it without even looking. Her hands still had many faint scars to bear witness to the painful road she'd taken to gain that intimate familiarity. With her share of the loot from the cultists, she'd paid the expensive cost to have that antimagical chain forcibly enchanted. Sometimes it moved now, on her arm, seemingly of its own accord; the dangling tip of it questing like the head of a serpent for a moment before going limp again. During the long series of battles they'd fought under Kenebres, several things had become clear about Thorn. There was no room for artifice in her, neither for deceit nor for fun and games. Her bedside manner was nothing short of atrocious, and the only times she seemed to smile was when combating demons and their minions. In the beginning she'd shared nothing of herself or story...only contributing her skills and combat prowess. Thorn had proved to be capable at stealth and scouting, and had a quick hand and a knack for spotting and undoing traps as well. For all that, she was no thief or cutpurse and took umbrage at being mistaken for one. What she lacked in social graces she'd made up for with deeds though, showing courage and loyalty in the difficult battles waged in the dark places under the city. And at the end, when victory seemed far away, it seemed like she'd started to open up more. Change took time though it seemed, because she was back in form. [COLOR="#008080"]"I'll check it out, see if anyone's still inside and how many they are,"[/COLOR] Thorn concluded.[COLOR="#008080"] "If you hear a bird call that isn't a raven or vulture, come running."[/COLOR] A raven or vulture call would have been silly of course. There were far too many of those in the city to tell hers apart from them. [/QUOTE]
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