Hesari continued to lay sprawled facedown in the stream-bank mud, still able to breath, but only just. He didn't dare open his eyes, there was something sticky across his face. His forehead also hurt something fierce.
His mind was muddled by blood loss from the wound on his face and other areas of his body. He couldn't feel his leg, but perhaps he just couldn't focus enough. Like waves of sur-reality, things floated within his consciousness. A noise. A squeal of pain, in hindsight. Mud shifting around him. Some other beast was there. Or was it more.
He tried to move, but he saw flashes of pain, even behind his eyelids. His paws also felt bound. how did that happen?
The last thing he remembered, was several paws lifting him up. But one pair, carrying the brunt of the weight.
And then all was blank.
OOC- I have absolutely no idea what is going on (I… Thought... We WERE attacking Dusk's group... ??? ), I will just play along with whatever you feel is best for this.
Hesari silently pushed the arrow tip down and turned to his companion. He mouthed the word Alive… and began skirting around a boulder. He twisted his spear shaft anxiously, pausing to listen for a moment before continuing on. He could feel the vermin right behind him follow his paw-steps.
This one is useful… He thought to himself. Most of the other Juska were blind followers, but only for those rich with authority. Otherwise, they were a bitter, spiteful clan. This one, he seemed different. The past couple days were the first time that he had really spent time around Gerreth, but the jury was in already. Gerreth… was a most impressive wilderness beast.
They perched themselves right above the stream, a small little leap into the water, but a decent hiding place... And waited.
"You left a trail like a falling boulder!"
Stupid vermin. Trying to sound discreet, but easily noisier than the forest. But there were a good half dozen or so. No way they could take them all alive... Hesari looked back towards his companion and nodded slowly.
"Oi, what do ya thinks we should do?"
The two lept down into the water and the otter bashed his spear into a very surprised rat's face. Before the creature fell back, he was already swinging the shaft towards another member of the troupe.
While some people on this site are just starting out, others are more experienced and wish for other ways to mix up their characters.
This is a great tool to use when you brainstorm up a new creature. This test only takes about 15 min. or so and will help you figure out how you want to portray your character in a way that doesn't seem boring. All characters have their own personality and if you step outside of that, it becomes a little confusing.
Take a few minutes, experiment with this a little bit. You can also find personality bio's all over the internet and some of them are quite interesting.
As a person, I am an ESFP. I am prone to very rash and spontaneous decisions, but love to entertain. A very strong people person. I have a weakness for being a little bit too free in speech and am quite the procrastinator.
My claim to fame is that, in theory, Fred and George from the HP series are also ESFP's. ::)
(Quick Note: When you take this test, it is important to take it not how you WISH to be, but how you actually are. otherwise the test results won't be quite as accurate.)
OOC- Dead end. Let's change the scenery, shall we?
IC- The Matthias Bell boomed quite suddenly and startled the four creatures. Perfect timing. He snapped his book shut and smoothly shoved it into his satchel dangling from his chair. "Sorry to leave such 'n… Enthralling... conversation, but I'm afraid food calls." He stood and took a few hops over to the crutch leaning slightly against the Recorder's Desk. The blighter probably wouldn't mind anyway. Creigon usually slept in until high noon.
With his own cloak about him, he hobbled over to the door and opened it to the smell of both rain and breakfast. Indeed, a pleasant combo. Lipton tilted his head back slightly and bid farewell. "Close the windows when you are done." And began treading awkwardly across the great lawn. While he half-sorely wished to be alone, he found himself in company, once again.
OOC- Oh, CQ will do.
The brush-tail swayed to a stop right in front of him. Lipton could smell the wetness from her cloak and the energy waiting to spring from her, like it was bottled up tight. That energy danced in her eyes and in the way she thrust her paw forward in greeting.
Her paw hung in the air for a few brief moments whilst he eyed her. Her cloak had also extended and drops formed on the end. Down they dripped, the time passing frustratingly slow. And they splashed obscenely onto the open page.
Lipton again raised his gaze and pulled his book back, protective of any further abuse. "a-Hem, well, nicely met, me lass." He ever-so slightly shook her paw with the grip of a beast holding old socks and retreated slightly into his parchment. "Just don't trip on my cane." And he gestured toward a crutch leaning against a desk.
No rudeness was intended. But new faces made him nervous. Partially, he wished for her to move along and find somebeast else to bother. But as luck would have it, his wish wasn't heard.
OOC- Don't mind if'n I do!
IC- Lipton thumbed through his book thoughtfully, reaching for that darn apple with his left hand. It was morning and the abbey was peaceful right now. Not like he was going to get much time to himself after daytime rings tolled from Mathias's bell. Dawn. Best time of day.
Rain pattered against the Great Hall's window-panes and he subconsciously smirked. The tinkling created an unfathomable vibration in the air that almost wasn't real. He full on smiled. Like Magic Rain was good. Rain was happy, in a painful way. It pulled gentle memories from your unforgiving past and found you wrapped up in a corner. If you were lucky, with a good book next to a fireplace. And worthy vittles. Almost like a good apathy. That's what rain was. When you became old, you learned to appreciate such things. Small things count, because you can't very well look forward to small-time adventures anymore.
The smell of half-cooked grits wafted from the open kitchen door and stole the better part of his attention. He continued to read, but the poetry lost potency. His eyes grazed the words thoughtfully, but absorbed almost nothing in return. The abbey would awaken soon to Friar Jetwing's savory smells. The book spine drooped and he raised his aged snout to meet the aromas. Eyesight, hearing, memory, a leg, all that is expendable. But may I never lose my snout or my maw. Food… is happiness.
Almost on cue, the one-legged mouse heard beasts chatting right outside his door. The door grated open and he glanced at the party with disinterest.
I have only ever read way of kings… v-v Glances at signature Fantastic book though. I am eagerly awaiting Stormlight 2 because that cliff hanger was crazy. O_O
Honestly, I am slightly surprised how popular he is on here. Great author. Sadly, I do not have enough time of late to actually read.
Full Name: Dark Dark-claw
Species: Evil Otter, but good some of the time
Height: 6'6"… Yes, he is one HUGE otter.
Typical Expressions: Confusion. Or awesomeness. Yeah. That too. Nothing in between.
Scars: He has one shaped like a dragon he dream about. And woke up and it was there. It's on his forehead, but he noticed it immediately.
He also has one shaped like an 'S' on his chest, but it's not an 'S'.
Typical clothing: Battle armor. All the time. Even when he is swimming.
*A letter from his mother from when she died. It is the only thing he has left of hers. And it is half-burned from a fire. Ferrets took it and were burning it when he found them and killed them and took the letter back.
*His father's sword. It had a ruby in the handle. And it is unbreakable.
*Cool hair, also unbreakable.
*A knapsack with his clan's emblem on it. Last of it's kind. Worth a fortune. But he won't give it up, because it is priceless.
- Alright with a bow. Still learning. Never misses. No matter how windy it is, whether the target is moving, still, dead, invincible, a badger with the blood-wrath, etc. He can even hit a bulls-eye if the sun is in his eyes.
- His hair turns yellow when a mouse or squirrel is near.
- Always knows the right thing to say. Unless he is around a woman.
- The best at swordplay since toast
- Finds four-leaf clovers all the time... What's with that?
- Too righteous.
- Women. He thinks he such a lady-killer.
- Gets mad easily
- Otter Blood-wrath
- Sometimes he loses stuff.
- Gruff but nice. Makes people around him feel happy. Cause everyone knows that good friends feed you better than anyone else!
- Never mean or too harsh.
- Always knows the right thing to do or say
Background- Wait for it...
Dark took a shot in the Dark. It was a hit. It new it was. A few seconds passed before he heard a squeak of surprise and a thump. Vermin began shouting loudly.
He unstrapped his burly two-handed broadsword and swung it around for good measure WITH A SINGLE PAW!?!. Two mild swirls were all he needs to severe a branch from its limp and cleanly nicked the heads off a few four-leaf clovers. They smelled pretty. Even in the dark. Flowers were nice to have, too.
He picked his path out cleanly in the dark. Not once did he step on any branches to give away his position. He knew where he was going. He knew what he was doing. Even though he had never done it before. The knowledge just came to him like divine intervention. Stuff was like that. It just came easy to him. Like seeing in the dark.
All of a sudden, he leept from a branch and lands right behind the fire pit. Two vermin didn't see him coming. They died. Four more saw him and grew scared because his fur were glowing, but they tried to kill him. They died, two.
There was more creatures around him that saw this and they became rally scared because he killed those other ferrets and weasels dead, but they thought "There are many of us and few of him. We can win this!" So they Come at him with there swords and bows and dirks and stuff. Yeah.
All of this sudden, Dark Dark-tooth raised his sword and swished his wonderful hair and hit the ground so hard that all the other beasts fell back and were stunned. But his sword was alright. Because you can't break that sword.
He looked mighty with his golden eyes and his dragon tattoo on his foreheads and the 'S' symble on his chest that doesn't mean hope. And his hair was glowing, so he wore a pretty awesome expression. And when he did this he went around and killed all the other vermin he looked into the frier and one piece of paper burning so he pulled it out it didn't burn him though because he did it soooo quickly. And his fur is thick. Yeah.
It was the note him mom had left him before she died. She was important and the ferrets and weasels came and stole that paper and ran away with it before burning his house down. But that didn't stop him. Because THE NAME WAS DARK....
Age: Nobody knows how old he is. Not even him, because nobody has stuck around long enough for him to find out.
Alignment: I already said he was evil, so yeah!
Job: Being himself
Oh, and he owns a ring that makes him super strong.
::) I couldn't resist.
Wait for that ONE MEMBER who doesn't get it.
OOC- Yeah, I just thought this was ended. That we were done and moving on to other threads…
And do the Juska even know what the stone is? Heck, I don't even know what this stone is. This HAS to be explained.
And wasn't this the clear morning? I'm still greatly confused.
I'm sorry. It's still a little hard for me to wrap my head around all of this 'arrow fodder' stuff.
IC- Cissa toyed with the cup in his hands and sniffed slightly. He felt chilled all over, even in this drenching heat, and the potentness of drink did little to ease that. Racket was still standing there, almost unsure of what to do next. Leaderless. It felt weird. He never really like Fallon, but it was strange not having someone telling you what to be doing or what to be thinking, for that matter.
He set the tin on the make-shift stand with a mild clang and shivered slightly. "What do ya thinks we needs to do?"