Topic: The Venture of the Lone Retinue

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This topic contains 3 replies, has 3 voices, and was last updated by relishness oblivion relishness oblivion 3 years, 2 months ago.

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    Caltus the Branded

    This will be the story that tells the tales of the Lone Retinue.

    Make your character unique, it will be the one that you stick with throughout the story.
    Don’t bully, unless you are an abusive character or person.
    Make the story believable.

    Have fun!


    Caltus the Branded

    It was a crisp autumn morning, on the day of the march of the Lone Retinue. You could feel the tension in the air as the supplies, weapons, medicinal supplies and people marched forwards to the dreaded Warrens.

    The leader of the Retinue, Caltus the Branded; a decorated warrior of the King’s War, led the march on that fateful day, Caltus was given orders to ‘lessen’ the problem in the Warrens, and to do it by any means necessary with as many men and supplies as requested. The situation was not exactly a desirable one, because not even a day ago the unthinkable happened- the pig-things in the Warrens led a major assault on the Estate of the Lone Retinue, grievous casualties were taken due to the attack being a surprise, the heroes and leaders of the retinue being the largest of the casualties. Revenge and blood lust would put it lightly compared to how the soldiers and town people felt about the situation.

    If the message wasn’t clear enough already- they intend on getting rid of the Warren Pig-thing population.

    An officer had tapped the shoulder of Caltus, with a look of major concern on his face.

    “Captain, we have a problem.”


    (Ohhey, is this a RP? Can I just hop in? :^D)

    Elias Chandler’s stomach was fluttering with more than just butterflies as he walked along with the party.

    In the bosom of his own sanctuary had he seen the twisted machinations the Warrens had to offer: a wave of snout, tooth, and flesh, pulsing and swarming. It was only with the kiss of a bullet and the sheen of a knife had he survived with minimal wounds. It was but a simple bite-wound where a tusk had broken the skin on his arm, just at the bicep.

    Overnight, it had ruddied irritably, and the medicinal splashes of whiskey over the weeping wound did nothing to quell the damnable itching.

    Evenstill, in his two decades of living, the body’s clockwork of humors had never failed him before, and Elias had his own share of wounds that had mended on their lonesome, no matter how festering they appeared.

    He ran a thumb over the site of the puncture, running the thick-woven cloth of his coat in small circles to ease the crawling wound. His hazel eyes flicked to Caltus, idly watching as another member of the party flocked to him with some urgent message or another; some busybody part of him wondered idly what of, before he disregarded it with a shrug of his shoulders.

    He pressed on, boots squelching in the mud as he walked.

    My characters-
    "I'd sneak into your burrito." --Bloodtrailkiller
    "you'll never quote me" --Relentless Oblivion


    "All flesh fails, in the fullness of time."

    Tilly: Grave Robber
    HP: Healthy
    Stress: 30/100 [Neutral]
    Gold: 4585

    Florence Novel: Plague Doctor
    HP: Healthy
    Stress: 15/100 [Relaxed]
    Gold: 75


    relishness oblivion
    relishness oblivion

    (Imma hop on to, if thats okay. Looks cool!)

    Entering the clearing, just behind Caltus and Elias, a man wrought in both thick gamberson, with plate reinforcement on all limbs. He stood tall, the black iron plating glimmering in the faint sunlight that flowed above them, tinting off the top of his visored barbuta. On his left hip, he brandished a finely crafted longsword, the pommel resembling that out of a furious burning flame.

    Libourg would step forward, nearing Elias’s side and looking ahead as he walked with him, a faint rasp of air could be seen flowing through the ornate grill of his helmet, his right hand falling down to rest on the unique pommel. The armour he wore seemed to rustle gently as he moved, however the faster he seemed to move, the louder his armour would be.

    “…The taint of evil seems to increase both in amount… and intensity the further we stray from the hamlet.” Libourg noted idly, not really paying attention to the others around him. He swayed his helmet a little toward Elias, eyeing him curiously through his helm, “I take it you are well prepared, Elias?” Libourg said, knowing his name due to them making their acquintances before they had set off.

    VanityPirate - "Banished to the elephant graveyard"

    Blood trail killer - "It's like a thumbs up but with Parkinson's tho."

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