Some OOC if you come across this RP.
1) At least 3 paragraphs of concise writing (at least 7 for the intro post) per post, please. Don't forget to be descriptive. Provide a decent introduction of your character into the setting. Have a compelling reason for them to be there, if at all.
2) General RP rules apply, of course. I trust I don't need to dictate all of the spoken and unspoken ones.
3) As the RP is open, I'm willing to give everyone three days to post before they will be skipped (in case I get more than one player).
4) Adelwulf's profile
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Adelwulf groaned, as he crouched over the sand dune, his head maw scraping against the desert sand. "It's been three hours Silvy. Are you sure they're coming?" The wolf spoke, his normally pristine white fur had become covered in desert sand, giving him a natural camouflage as he lay so perfectly still.
"Patience, Wulfy." Silvaria tapped her temple with a finger as she hovered just out of site, on a hovering mat, some miles above the desert sands. "They will come." They had to. How long had Silvaria planned this? Too long.
It all started the day they decided it was a good idea to steal from her. She was halfway across the world running an errand. When she returned, she found her lair destroyed. And her husband had been strung up on the wall like a trophy. Not only had they dared destroy her things, but they had killed her husband, too.
He hadn't stayed dead, not for long. He never did. In each others proximity, they always came to life. This was the ancestral bond that united Silvaria of the Marth coven and Adelwulf of the Aelfric clan. Such a powerful ritual, and yet, both their families were now dead and gone. Her crimson red hair swayed in the gentle breeze that swept across the vast, almost endless desert. For miles around, all she beheld was the gold of the sand.
"You smell good, Silvy." Adelwulf commented.
"Shush. Focus." Silvaria warned her husband. Over on the distance, she saw a fast approaching storm. It looked like a storm. Something was fast approaching, something that parted waves of sand on its either side as it moved. Horses. They were a group of horses. Wild Horses that sought to cross the desert. These weren't ordinary ones though. They were as tall as 6 meters each. Prized possessions in the desert. And this is what Silvaria was banking on. These horses, they'd bring in hunters, farmers and traders from across the desert looking to capture and break them. When caught, they were easily the most valuable commodity around.
And so she waited. She waited not for the horses, but who they'll attract. If among them was the one who attached Adelwulf, he would know, and alert Silvaria.
1) At least 3 paragraphs of concise writing (at least 7 for the intro post) per post, please. Don't forget to be descriptive. Provide a decent introduction of your character into the setting. Have a compelling reason for them to be there, if at all.
2) General RP rules apply, of course. I trust I don't need to dictate all of the spoken and unspoken ones.
3) As the RP is open, I'm willing to give everyone three days to post before they will be skipped (in case I get more than one player).
4) Adelwulf's profile
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Adelwulf groaned, as he crouched over the sand dune, his head maw scraping against the desert sand. "It's been three hours Silvy. Are you sure they're coming?" The wolf spoke, his normally pristine white fur had become covered in desert sand, giving him a natural camouflage as he lay so perfectly still.
"Patience, Wulfy." Silvaria tapped her temple with a finger as she hovered just out of site, on a hovering mat, some miles above the desert sands. "They will come." They had to. How long had Silvaria planned this? Too long.
It all started the day they decided it was a good idea to steal from her. She was halfway across the world running an errand. When she returned, she found her lair destroyed. And her husband had been strung up on the wall like a trophy. Not only had they dared destroy her things, but they had killed her husband, too.
He hadn't stayed dead, not for long. He never did. In each others proximity, they always came to life. This was the ancestral bond that united Silvaria of the Marth coven and Adelwulf of the Aelfric clan. Such a powerful ritual, and yet, both their families were now dead and gone. Her crimson red hair swayed in the gentle breeze that swept across the vast, almost endless desert. For miles around, all she beheld was the gold of the sand.
"You smell good, Silvy." Adelwulf commented.
"Shush. Focus." Silvaria warned her husband. Over on the distance, she saw a fast approaching storm. It looked like a storm. Something was fast approaching, something that parted waves of sand on its either side as it moved. Horses. They were a group of horses. Wild Horses that sought to cross the desert. These weren't ordinary ones though. They were as tall as 6 meters each. Prized possessions in the desert. And this is what Silvaria was banking on. These horses, they'd bring in hunters, farmers and traders from across the desert looking to capture and break them. When caught, they were easily the most valuable commodity around.
And so she waited. She waited not for the horses, but who they'll attract. If among them was the one who attached Adelwulf, he would know, and alert Silvaria.
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