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Messages - BlackStar
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« on: March 24, 2010, 03:16:45 PM »
As he fed Ivanova's mother another lie, Veran couldn't help but enjoy his deception. It required him to remain absolutely calm, and he needed to choose his words carefully. More importantly, he needed to fight off the slight feeling of paranoia that was creeping into his mind. How could the woman or her husband know? he thought. It was simply impossible. There had been no witnesses, and he had left no evidence. Still, he thought, a little paranoia is healthy.
As the man handed him a bag filled with True, and a ring showing the family's favor he had earned, Veran felt as if he was being awarded for taking down a dangerous beast. To him, these rewards were not for bringing forth evidence, but were instead the hard-won rewards of skillfully taking down his prey and then maintaining the deception. Part of him was content to take these rewards and be done. But he was offered to work within the search parties, and would be rewarded well. How could he turn down these rewards or, better yet, the opportunity to display his skills?
As he examined the ring, yet again (Veran had developed a sort of fascination for the ring, yet he was not sure why), he pondered what should be done next. The hunt, he thought, will continue. Yet this time he would be aiding the search parties in hunting for himself. This would be tricky. Yet Veran loved the idea of a challenge.
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« on: March 24, 2010, 02:37:25 PM »
*Veran can be seen among the search parties of Vehl, asking questions of the mercenaries and guards, particularly about the newcomers. He sees to be prominently displaying a ring he wears on his left hand, which somehow seems to help the guards cooperate with him*
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« on: March 19, 2010, 08:26:18 PM »
*Veran looks over the posters*
Interesting... I will have to try and contact this Lady.
*He pulls down a copy of the poster and files it in his pack next to a worn out drawing of a pony*
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« on: March 18, 2010, 03:59:14 PM »
Portrait for Veran Silver
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« on: March 18, 2010, 12:42:36 AM »
Thanks again for the help off the ledge.
I looked up the portrait, and it is MPortrait204.
Thanks again for the very speedy responses!
6
« on: March 17, 2010, 10:43:17 PM »
Arg.... So I forgot to save immediately after I got off the wall, and now the server has gone down. So I'm stuck, back on the wall, again. I hate to keep bothering everyone, but if someone can help me down again it would be greatly appreciated.
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« on: March 17, 2010, 10:27:25 PM »
Thanks very much! Very quick response!
8
« on: March 20, 2010, 11:13:25 AM »
Veran arrived in Fort Vehl just after the storm had passed. As he walked through the gates he overheard a caravan master asking his crew, quite angrily, what had happened to her. Veran slipped past the gate and walked towards the craft hall: he had to work on his new cougar hides.
Earlier he had been hunting spiders in the Gloomwoods when a young, unarmed woman approached him, lost in the storm that had taken over the woods. Veran was surprised to see someone like her here, as the woods are dangerous and only skilled hunters and adventurers come through here. She was lost and scared, so Veran offered to take her in for the night, setting up a camp, a web of sorts. Inspired by his spider foes, he worked to trap his prey in this web, and once they were helpless, he would strike. Such was the thrill of the hunt, albeit a different kind of hunt.
As they talked, she grew more terrified of the surrounding woods, learning of the horrors that awaited her, had she been left alone. Veran offered food and a blanket, easing her spirit. She was then showed Veran a drawing she had made of a pony, what was to be her pony. After pressing her more, Veran learned she is a Smithson, a wealthy family, one that would take notice of her disappearance. The wheels began to turn in his head...
As she drifted off to sleep, Veran hummed a familiar tune, a sad elven tune he had learned from his mother. The tune would be the last earthly sound the young girl, Ivanova, would hear. Veran, like the spiders, struck the woman in her most helpless of states. He grabbed the drawing and found a family ring on her body, and quickly placed them in his pack. After digging a shallow grave for the girl, he set off back to Fort Vehl.
“Money,” he thought, “certainly has its uses.” The ring would either fetch a good price on the black market, or the family would want some kind of clue as to were their daughter was. With any luck, the family would quickly began offering rewards. But until then, it was no matter to Veran. He had all the time in the world to wait.
9
« on: March 17, 2010, 10:14:57 PM »
My character is stuck on the wall in Port Hempstead. Is there any way I can get down, or is there anyone who can help me?
Thanks
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« on: March 16, 2010, 11:31:35 PM »
Novlar 9, 1462
I hope this letter finds you well.
Mother and Father, I have not written you lately. I apologize deeply for this. The truth is, I fear the disappointment you will have when you read this letter. But I do not wish to hide from you on this matter.
I have resigned from my position as Captain, and left the military.
I should first explain myself: I had let my men down. Orcs ambushed us on patrol, and very few of us survived the initial attack, and fewer survived after the return to the fort. I was fortunate enough to survive, but unfortunate enough to be left to carry this burden. I continue to go through my planning for that day, and every time I realize that I could have been more cautious, I could have taken a different path. Yet because I did not take care, my men had to pay for it. I could not allow myself to make another mistake like this again. I wrote a resignation letter, and boarded a ship to Port Hempstead.
In the mean time, I plan to offer my services as a freelance warrior. I intend to only work for the local governments. I do not wish to stoop so low as to become a mercenary, or even worse: a bandit. At least in this way I will be able to use my skills to help the community, if in a less formal fashion.
I was fortunate enough to meet a Knight of the Wyrm this morning. A halfling, which surprised me, but she holds quite the impressive title. She told me to be honest with myself. I wonder if I can be any more honest with myself: my shortcomings are all too evident. Still, I cannot help but feel that the Lord Protector has sent me a sign. A symbol of forgiveness? A reminder to be strong? Or perhaps just a push to continue moving forward. In any case, I should not take our meeting lightly, and I will reflect on this some more.
If you need to write me back for any reason, you should send the letters to the Temple of Rofirein in Fort Vehl. I will be residing there for a few weeks, perhaps more. Please be honest with dear Freda about my decisions. While I do not want her to view me with disdain, I would rather her know the truth.
With love always,
Cassius Cromwell
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