- Messages
- 300
- Character Biography
- Link
Private Tales Feast for the damned
- Thread starter Ivan Skender
- Start date
A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
- Messages
- 116
- Character Biography
- Link
Forging bonds at the Academy was rare. Initiates were never explicitly told not to trust one another or make friends. Little groups would form, but all groups were centered on a foundation of strength and begrudging respect. Surely no one had thought one another to be friends, but they had realized that having someone else on one’s side could be beneficial to surviving the Academy when it was every man for themself. It kept them from getting picked off in the night from their bed, on the way to the latrines, the baths, the stables, or the dining hall during the day.
Leander had always been large in his class, much like Ivan and the late Caeso Diemut. Better than his size was his ability to null magic, keep himself safe. No traps could hurt him, secret little spells etched on his bed or door that meant to implode. No foul enchantment could affect him, whether it was on his boots or armor or even his pair of tighty-whities. If it weren’t for his cunning, the strange sort of telepathy he had when he held Odessa’s hand, magic, strength, size and last name, Leander wasn’t sure how likely he would he have survived if he even lacked one of those things.
But now he could. For with the change of the Republic, he could make friends that suited him and filled out his weaknesses. Ivan was one such friend that not only did just that but could handle himself well alone. Better yet— he was enjoyable to be around. He understood the unspoken pecking order that the elite (which wasn’t based on nobility but might and magic) had created centuries before them and held onto it’s legacy like Leander did.
He also wasn’t ugly. Leander learned good looks helped a man get away with bad things. Women were always willing to turn their head if a man could flash a straight smile with all his white teeth still intact.
Leander felt that the chance of either of them coming across a fair woman on this particularly craggy and dangerous rocky terrain was less than the Academy suddenly serving dessert after their mealtimes. In truth, this mission would have been unbearable and the sort to bring forth Leander’s fickle nature. He would have complained endlessly if it weren’t for Ivan’s strange silence. A silence that he had broken after another long tedious hike through more depressing sights.
“I didn’t.” Leander didn’t have to lie to Ivan. The only history he really cared for was his family’s history and he was even foggy about most of it majority of the time. He was close to making a joke but thought better of it. Ivan’s tone was different this time. There was something more to this mission, something that required Leander’s talent for nullification and Ivan’s last name. “Must’ve seen some shit in it’s day.” To say that Valdorren looked better now was a lie and so Leander didn’t continue with it.
“And the elves have never tried to reclaim it back?”
Ivan Skender
Leander had always been large in his class, much like Ivan and the late Caeso Diemut. Better than his size was his ability to null magic, keep himself safe. No traps could hurt him, secret little spells etched on his bed or door that meant to implode. No foul enchantment could affect him, whether it was on his boots or armor or even his pair of tighty-whities. If it weren’t for his cunning, the strange sort of telepathy he had when he held Odessa’s hand, magic, strength, size and last name, Leander wasn’t sure how likely he would he have survived if he even lacked one of those things.
But now he could. For with the change of the Republic, he could make friends that suited him and filled out his weaknesses. Ivan was one such friend that not only did just that but could handle himself well alone. Better yet— he was enjoyable to be around. He understood the unspoken pecking order that the elite (which wasn’t based on nobility but might and magic) had created centuries before them and held onto it’s legacy like Leander did.
He also wasn’t ugly. Leander learned good looks helped a man get away with bad things. Women were always willing to turn their head if a man could flash a straight smile with all his white teeth still intact.
Leander felt that the chance of either of them coming across a fair woman on this particularly craggy and dangerous rocky terrain was less than the Academy suddenly serving dessert after their mealtimes. In truth, this mission would have been unbearable and the sort to bring forth Leander’s fickle nature. He would have complained endlessly if it weren’t for Ivan’s strange silence. A silence that he had broken after another long tedious hike through more depressing sights.
“I didn’t.” Leander didn’t have to lie to Ivan. The only history he really cared for was his family’s history and he was even foggy about most of it majority of the time. He was close to making a joke but thought better of it. Ivan’s tone was different this time. There was something more to this mission, something that required Leander’s talent for nullification and Ivan’s last name. “Must’ve seen some shit in it’s day.” To say that Valdorren looked better now was a lie and so Leander didn’t continue with it.
“And the elves have never tried to reclaim it back?”
Ivan Skender
- Messages
- 300
- Character Biography
- Link