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The Tol Haggerun Prophecy - 3.5 D&D [Ended]
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<blockquote data-quote="Evil Ujio" data-source="post: 2248383" data-attributes="member: 27389"><p><strong>The Burning Rose</strong></p><p></p><p>Misha wakes up with a splitting headache, not from drinking, which he didn’t do, but from the dream. He runs his hands through his dark hair and rubs his eyes as he stumbles to the wash bowl and cleans his face. He looks at his reflection and sets to the daily task of hygiene putting the dream from his mind… work had been slow and being a sword for hire, one with scruples at least did not make things any easier.</p><p></p><p>“28 gold,” he mutters to himself, “I wonder how far that would get me?” he says to no one in particular.</p><p></p><p>“Did you say something?” a woman’s voice rouses Misha from his thoughts. He turns to see the barmaid holding the blanket close to her with a lazy morning smile on her face, a peasant beauty to be sure.</p><p></p><p>Misha begins to don his clothing and armor, “Nothing, don’t you worry your pretty head about it,” he smiles trying to change the subject. <em>The dream, I have to try and figure out what that dream was, it wasn’t… normal. No not at all, something tells me I should take this to Father Joseph and seek his wisdom. Could it be a sign? How presumptuous of me to think that some great beneficent being would give me a sign… probably nerves… but the faces.</em></p><p></p><p>“Are you listening to me,” she purrs into his ears. Misha blinks, he hadn’t even noticed that the barmaid had her arms around him, and was speaking to him.</p><p></p><p>“Of course,” Misha jokes.</p><p></p><p>“Then what did I say?”</p><p></p><p>Misha laughs, “I don’t know, I am sorry just distracted…” he says truthfully.</p><p></p><p>“Oh?” she quips cuddling close to his warmth, “by what?”</p><p></p><p>“Dreams,” Misha says as he slides his boots on, then his gloves. He turns and kisses her cheek before standing and donning his scale mail, it was clean and well cared for. He walks across the room and picks up his greatsword, Honor, the blade earned for his service to Raziel, his patron and the patron of the man that saved him, Father Joseph.</p><p></p><p>“Dreams?” She says quizzically.</p><p></p><p>“Dreams,” Misha repeats as he moves for the door throwing his pack over his shoulder, “I need to get going,” he smiles over his shoulder. He walks down the hall and out to the stables to get his horse, he was home in the city of Veltune; but still he lived out of inns and hostels, he preferred to stay mobile for whenever the call comes.</p><p></p><p>Misha gets astride Talia and trots down the road to the shrine maintained by the priests of the Order of the Book, though this shrine had its focus on Raziel, ruler of the Platinum Heaven. Misha canters forward on his steed moving slowly into the large training grounds to find young men and women training in the arts of war. Amidst them was a larger man, he was not a brute but his presence and steeled eyes made him a giant among men, at least in Misha’s eyes. Father Joseph wore his customary robes over his mail armor and he was as usual barking to his initiates to better themselves and not embarrass themselves on the battlefield.</p><p></p><p>Misha dismounts and leads Talia by the reigns as he approaches the venerable mentor, “Father Joseph,” he bows his head, “good morning.”</p><p></p><p><em><span style="color: red"><strong>OOC:</strong> If you don’t mind I would like for you to RP Father Joseph, well I can do it, but I figure he is just a gruff battle priest to Raziel and Misha’s mentor and the one that gave him his heirloom item, Honor the blade he wields into battle.</span></em></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Evil Ujio, post: 2248383, member: 27389"] [b]The Burning Rose[/b] Misha wakes up with a splitting headache, not from drinking, which he didn’t do, but from the dream. He runs his hands through his dark hair and rubs his eyes as he stumbles to the wash bowl and cleans his face. He looks at his reflection and sets to the daily task of hygiene putting the dream from his mind… work had been slow and being a sword for hire, one with scruples at least did not make things any easier. “28 gold,” he mutters to himself, “I wonder how far that would get me?” he says to no one in particular. “Did you say something?” a woman’s voice rouses Misha from his thoughts. He turns to see the barmaid holding the blanket close to her with a lazy morning smile on her face, a peasant beauty to be sure. Misha begins to don his clothing and armor, “Nothing, don’t you worry your pretty head about it,” he smiles trying to change the subject. [i]The dream, I have to try and figure out what that dream was, it wasn’t… normal. No not at all, something tells me I should take this to Father Joseph and seek his wisdom. Could it be a sign? How presumptuous of me to think that some great beneficent being would give me a sign… probably nerves… but the faces.[/i] “Are you listening to me,” she purrs into his ears. Misha blinks, he hadn’t even noticed that the barmaid had her arms around him, and was speaking to him. “Of course,” Misha jokes. “Then what did I say?” Misha laughs, “I don’t know, I am sorry just distracted…” he says truthfully. “Oh?” she quips cuddling close to his warmth, “by what?” “Dreams,” Misha says as he slides his boots on, then his gloves. He turns and kisses her cheek before standing and donning his scale mail, it was clean and well cared for. He walks across the room and picks up his greatsword, Honor, the blade earned for his service to Raziel, his patron and the patron of the man that saved him, Father Joseph. “Dreams?” She says quizzically. “Dreams,” Misha repeats as he moves for the door throwing his pack over his shoulder, “I need to get going,” he smiles over his shoulder. He walks down the hall and out to the stables to get his horse, he was home in the city of Veltune; but still he lived out of inns and hostels, he preferred to stay mobile for whenever the call comes. Misha gets astride Talia and trots down the road to the shrine maintained by the priests of the Order of the Book, though this shrine had its focus on Raziel, ruler of the Platinum Heaven. Misha canters forward on his steed moving slowly into the large training grounds to find young men and women training in the arts of war. Amidst them was a larger man, he was not a brute but his presence and steeled eyes made him a giant among men, at least in Misha’s eyes. Father Joseph wore his customary robes over his mail armor and he was as usual barking to his initiates to better themselves and not embarrass themselves on the battlefield. Misha dismounts and leads Talia by the reigns as he approaches the venerable mentor, “Father Joseph,” he bows his head, “good morning.” [i][color=red][b]OOC:[/b] If you don’t mind I would like for you to RP Father Joseph, well I can do it, but I figure he is just a gruff battle priest to Raziel and Misha’s mentor and the one that gave him his heirloom item, Honor the blade he wields into battle.[/color][/i][color=red][/color] [/QUOTE]
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