Forums » Fantasy Roleplay » FFT Roleplay {Open. Read First Post.}

{For those that wish to join, it is never too late. Simply send me a message, and I will assist in the character alteration process, as well as place the character into the roleplay in a very natural way.}


Dorter is a land-locked city, the center of overland trade between the regions. It houses merchants of all sorts, from those that have profited during the times of war, to those that have seen better days. The City of Dorter was designed on a slowly inclined slope. The pristine houses, storage places, and offices of the more provident merchants occupy the top of the slope, while the cloth-covered crates, unwashed citizens, and meager merchants, as well as their run-down offices, occupy the bottom of the slope. The Slums of Dorter, as they were called by visitors, were not designed with the careful placement of housing, but rather featured their houses as small mountains, compacted together. The area between the two areas is usually crowded with carts being pulled by chocobos, travellers who are wishing to purchase a few extra swords the Slum's soldier office, and merchants of ill and good reputation.

Along the west-side of town, there was a quaint merchant shop. The door was loose and it creaked when it was opened, and closed. The wood of the building was slowly growing more and more brown, much like the buildings around it. Inside the shop, the walls were covered with planks of wood, nailed in a few bizarre patterns, to the older wood. The left and right sides of the room hosted tables, cluttered with vials, both filled and empty, as well as pieces of metal, musical instruments, wood carvings, and bird feathers. In front of those that stepped into the odd smelling shop, there was a little bit of space, and then a wooden counter top, with ledgers piled in two separate piles, and an ink pen in the middle, next to a silver bell that could be tapped. Behind the counter top, there was another door that led to an even smaller space, only big enough for the bunk bed and cooking hearth.

Today, a voice called out from the bedroom, "Hey, kiddo. Can you do me a favor?" A man stepped out of the bedroom, wearing a dirtied apron and a glove. His clothing could mark him as a gentleman, but the scarf around his neck, the tailored blue shirt, and the white pants were faded, their colors dulled. His name was Mr. Lambert, owner of Lambert's Lotions and Tonics (which could be read above the bedroom door, if one stared for a long time). This year, he did not live alone, and has offhandedly adopted a cheerful young lad.

Lambert lifts up his arm and wipes the back of his glove against his forehead, and he smiles, "Well, unless you're busy, with cooking lunch and making sure nobody starves while they live here and all."

Nothing is too particularly interesting on the outside of the Slums of Dorter, just the usually men and women, who are either gambling or selling what little they have to all those who walk by. Until recently, little has changed, but a group of people, wearing robes of lighter colors, have set up tents of various sizes along the softer ground. Some men were outside the largest tent, talking amongst themselves, "I don't think Olad will pull through. That snake isn't known for kindness." The other man, shorter with his robe's sleeves ripped to form short sleeves, shakes his head, his arms folded, "Nonsense. He made it this far, he can make it farther." Others were venturing near the forest to the east, though they stopped and collected kindling and loose wood near the trees.

A lady with a dark complexion and a white robe with red triangles along the outer trim of her hood, sleeves, and the dress's skirt, pushes aside the flap to the largest tent and breaths a soft sigh of relief. The two men take a step back from her, the shorter one asking, "Is he going to live?" The lady, who was named Elyn, answers with a hint of an accent, "Yah. He lives, but dah poison must be es-stracted. Ah, I knows." Her hand rises to rest on the side of her mouth, calling out and looking between the tents, "Oh, little one! Oh, little one!"

Meanwhile, a cold wind of fell tidings and ill omen blew through all of Dorter, carrying with it a stench of...death. Something horrible, something wrong was beginning to stir in far-off lands, and even here, it's dark influence could be felt spreading. Thankfully it seemed to be weak here, but as time passes, the coming ordeals could become less and less about factions warring amongst each other, matters supplanted by something more dire...mayhap evils greater than even the Lucavi. As of now, the winds mean little, but keep this all in mind for later.

[Silindra isn't 100% finished, but about 90%. I haven't quite finished her history, but she is finished enough to join.)

Silindra was currently in the merchant district of Dorter heading to the Chemist's shop with a basket full of potions necessary for potion brewing. As she walked, she was aware as the glares and pointed fingers that were directed at her and she was equally aware of the reason; her horn. It had taken no time at all for that unique feature to make a rift between her and the rest of the city's people. She had yet to see another person with a horn and had little idea has to why she had one. Oh she knew that her mother also had a horn, but she had died while she was still a babe without revealing anything to the nomads that ended up raising her. Silindra figured that her problem would be easily solved by simply removing the white horn, but she had no intention whatsoever of doing so. The horn was a part of her and she wasn't about to cast aside a part of her just because others didn't like it. If such a simple thing earned their cruelty then why would she want to please them anyway? The nomads hadn't cared that she was horned and had treated her the same as the rest of them....

Oh the nomads....she could already feel her eyes growing wet as the start of tears started to form. Silindra could still see it, the soldiers with their dark armor trimmed with fur cutting down her family and her helplessness to do anything about it. She had been forced to watch as those bloodstained blades cut their way through everyone she knew. She still didn't know how she had survived the massacre, all she remembered was the soldiers approaching her with the blades that still dripped with the blood of her loved ones and then waking up with all of them dashed to pieces. Silindra still didn't know what kind of miracle had spared her life, but she knew exactly what she intended to do with it now....get her vengeance.

The sight of those soldiers was permanently etched in her memory and she had no doubt that she would recognize them in a heartbeat the next time she saw them. She would have her vengeance so that the spirits of her family would be sure to rest in peace and those that those vile men with no hearts wouldn't shatter anymore hearts like they had shattered hers. And yet.....

Silindra had to face the truth....she was weak. There was no denying it, as she was no she wouldn't last two seconds in battle. This is why she was gathering these herbs, so that she could earn the coin to buy some weapons and this expensive book she had seen about chemists. The chemist she was going to see had flatly refused to take her as an apprentice and she knew that she had no chance of changing his mind. He would however buy the herbs that she worked hard to get, but she had to fight hard for every coin she got. He always tried to cheat her, but Silindra had to put up with it since he was willing to even buy from her at all. The only card in her favor was that herb gathering was hard work that few in the city were willing to do. After all, you had to be able to identify which herbs were good, know where they grew and then actually get down in the dirt to gather them. Then there was always the threat of bandits and monsters. Finally it was also time consuming, time that was valuable to the chemist.

Well she had finally arrived at his shop and now it was time to battle over the price once again. With a silent sigh, she opened the door and went inside.

[Miss I hope the description of the soldiers is ok with you. If you don't like it I would be happy to change it to whatever you like.

For everyone else, please don't come in and go. "What is a summoner doing here?" Her finding out her race is part of my plot for her.]

{The soldier description is fine, do not fret about it, and I am certain the other characters do not know what a Summoner is, other than a job class~}

Elyn, after looking about and walking around the tents, returned to the largest tent and placed her hands on her hips, her gaze shifting between the two men, "You's seen the little horn, huh?" The taller man looks away, his finger scratching at his cheek, "Hmm. Ah..hmm...Oh!" He towards Elyn, "She had her picking basket with her. She is in town, I think." Eyln looks down at her sandals and wiggles her toes, then throws her hands in the air, a look of exasperation upon her face, "Oh's, oh's. Fine." Her hands move to roll up her robe's sleeves as she marches back into the largest tent.

Meanwhile, in a merchant's shop in the upper district of Dorter, a little girl with a horn on her head enters. The office is big enough to fit a dozen people comfortably. Behind the polished counter top sat a staunch man, balding on the top of his head, with large, bushy sideburns. His arm was in front of him as he leaned forward, eyes level with the young miss and her basket of ingredients. He gives a grunt, his voice agitated, "Better make this quick. I'm expecting company."

Silindra approached the counter and placed the basket on it. She then gently shifted through the herbs to show that there was no bruising, no broken stems and they had been cut well. Mentally she could hear the gruff voice of her former teacher saying. "Poor harvesting leads to poor quality herbs. You do the job right and you don't take shortcuts." Well she had taken that lesson to heart and this was the proof.

"They were harvested well as you can see and there are enough to make three potions. Since you have company on the way how about we just skip the game of bargaining this time and you offer me seventy five gold pieces which is half of what you will sell the brewed potions for. It's a fair price and then I'll be out of here quick."

The Soldier's Office of Dorter resided in the slums, distanced from the surrounding buildings by a foot, only. The windows were barred with iron, the door to the office heavy, reinforced with stone much like the building. Inside the office, a stone floor, a dented counter top, and a dirtied secretary who was idly tapping her ink pen against the counter top, propping her head up with a hand. Behind her were two doors; one to the left and the other to the right. Each door led to a room full of armor stands, weapon stands, and bunk-beds. Within one of the rooms, a certain squire with a tanned complexion, long, red hair, leather gloves, a faded tan dress with faded leather over her stomach region, a thick leather strap that had an empty sheath attached to it by a belt around the dress's fabric, diagonally, stopping at her hip, and a dark green cloak clasped around her shoulders. Her name was Tannis. Her form was hunched over, underneath the lower bunk of a bunk bed, her broadsword in her lap, held by her right hand, while her left hand dragged a whetstone up and down the blade. Others were around, idly chatting, leaning against the wall, or making grand gestures while story telling.

Laying on the upper bunk, above Tannis and the others lay another woman, her fingers laced beneath the back of her head and staring darkly up into the ceiling. She did not participating in the story telling and the rumour exchanging, preferring to stay quiet and take it all in. Not that the others would give her much attention anyway. She was a gnoll after all. A species more known for savagery than civilisation. Heck just being in Dorter was strange for her. So she kept quiet and ignore them all, or pretended to anyway, Her ears swiveled and flicked, picking up rumours and tales. Now and again her black lips would smirk as she heard something particularly amusing, but she stayed quiet nonetheless, her thick man-e of black hair framing her face and accentuating her dark eyes. Everything about her was dark in fact, her shirt, her leather pants, her boots...only her tan fur stood out. She looked like she'd jut walked out of a shadow.

Max still had no idea how he had gotten here. Not a clue. Oh, well, guess that means feeding the poor, right? At least he kept his casual suit and his favorite top hat. They were almost as much a part of him as the rest of his body.

He had a nagging feeling that he was supposed to remember something. That generally was one of the side-effects of time travel: Temporary amnesia. The amount of time it lasts varies from case to case, but he had been here a few days and still didn't know anything. All he knew was that this was strange and this definitely wasn't home. The boy wasn't wearing his full suit today, though. Today he wore jeans and a t-shirt. Apparently he was holding them when he arrived here. The top hat remained sitting upon smooth black hair, however.

Blue eyes fixated on the man. "Hey, it's not like there's much else to do. What's up?" Max made it a point to be respectful to the adults: grandpa's lessons were even stronger than temporary amnesia. Max smiled brightly at the man. "Do you need help making a potion? 'Cause I'm only good at pretend magic." This was said with a chuckle and another smile. Max had his grandpa and father's sense of humor. They all loved to crack jokes. Magic ran in the family: Well, at least dad's side. Mom was paranoid of it. Of course she loved shows, but the real stuff- The-saying-words-and having-a-demon-appear stuff, scared her. She and dad both warned Max about that.

"Either way, Mr. Lambert, I'll be happy to help. What's the need?"

The balding man pushes his arm off of the counter top, his hands on the polished wood, while his posture straightens. His mouth quirks as he eyes the herbs, giving the herbs an uninterested stare and a few grunts. As soon as the horned girl starts talking, the balding man crosses his arms across his portly chest. "You would like that, wouldn't you. The way I see it, nobody else is going to buy your ingredients, so how about fifty-four gold pieces for the lot."

Three knights, adorned with armor and white cloaks, stepped inside of the large merchant office. Their cloaks bore a blue lion on the back, their pace was brisk, and their appearance neat. The two knights in the back, behind the lead knight, look about the store as they tread inwards, their heavy boots creating dull thuds upon the flooring. The balding merchant's mouth twitches, his massive sideburns bristling. He says gruffly, ignoring the horned girl, "The Hokuten? Welcome. What can I do for you?"

Within the sleeping quarters of the Soldier's Office, or, the baracks, a young man that had large, front teeth and beady little eyes was talking to a female squire, his arm against the wall and his posture leaned forward, while she stared at nothing. He starts off with, "Hey, how's it going?" He doesn't get a response, and his nose twitches, "So, ever been to Gariland? I hear it's a magical experience." He lifts his eyebrows twice, suggestively. The female squire rolls her eyes and looks away from him. The man's hand reaches out instinctively, but he retracts it, moving it to scratch at the back of his neck, "I hear the, uh, miner's guild is looking for a few people to protect one of their members, in Gariland...maybe you would like to watch my back while I watch" The female squire leaves the room. "Yours?" The man hangs his head.

Tannis's curved lips curl into a soft smile, her speckled-white ears tilted at peculiar angles, while her left hand slides the whetstone down her blade's edge, "Rejected, and so soon, Werner?" Her hazel gaze drifts from her blade to see Werner grimace and smile with his large front teeth, his hand scratching the back of his head.

Lambert's left eyebrow rises, a grin appearing on his face, "Yeah? We'll get more customers sooner or later. Hopefully sooner." An easy breath was released and Lambert's hand moved to rest at his side, "I think our stock is doing fine." Lambert looks behind him, right after he speaks, his eyes on the pot of food cooking over the hearth's fire, then he turns back. "You and me both, kiddo." Lambert's hands collide together, his gloved hand almost becoming un-gloved, "That's the spirit!" Lambert kneels down and slides his fingers underneath a crack in the floor, pulling up on a string that was mostly hidden from view. A large trap door opens up and Lambert reaches underneath to fetch a bag of gold. "I, need you, to go to the soldier's office, and hire some swords to watch the shop tonight." Lambert closes the trap door with a heavy thump, and stands up, tossing the bag of gold to the younger male, "And make sure to hire the cheapest ones. We only need two. One for me, and one for you. The store can outlast both of us, but the people out there are becoming restless. Restless people wouldn't think twice about eating our lunch. Understand, kiddo?"

Alright, going to hire some soldiers to help protect them during the night.

Max was living in the ghetto. Awesome.

"No problemo, Mr. Lambert! Cheapest ones, got it." Max took the bag of gold and looked the man in the eye with a smile. "I'll be back in no time. Hopefully." Mx added with a wink and a small laugh.

With that, the boy walked out the door and confidently strode... Somewhere. He picked a forward direction, hoping he might get lucky and find the soldiers' office. It couldn't be too hard, right?

Alas, after some minutes of walking around, and,(don't tell,) asking for directions, Max finally found himself at the office. He arrived and walked inside, calling out once: "Hello?"

[Not really sure what to post since Silindra would just stay quiet until the Hokuten left.]

Vannah smirked to herself as Werner was shot down in flames, and she chuckled quietly as the red headed woman strafed the wreckage, so to speak. What kind of would be Romeo went to a guard barracks anyway? The women were on the job, interested in the money. And of course more than capable of whooping his rear if he got too annoying.

Rolling her eyes, the gnoll woman moved to lay on her side and get a better look at the barracks to survey the other squires scattered about the room. They were an ecclectic collection of various species. She stuck out among them, but then she'd stand out anywhere, and at least no one looked twice at her when she was surrounded by bangaas and seeqs and viera and other different species. She smiled knowingly to herself and sat up, stretching in place and turning to dangle her legs over the edge of the bunk bed, before the red headed woman's face. Ignoring her for a moment, she hopped down from the bed and walked over to the job board in the corner of the room, checking it again to see if anyone had updated it with open jobs since last time she' checked.

Silindra was about to reply when the Hokuten arrived and the chemist promptly started to ignore her. She didn't like being ignored, but there wasn't much she could do about it, no the only thing she could do was wait.

She calmly took her basket off the counter and moved off to the side so as not to get in the way. Silindra did have a few tricks up her sleeve once she got her chance to bargain tho.

[Short]

Mr. Lambert gives the young lad a single nod, then turns to walk back into the kitchen/sleeping area, the smell of lunch soon fading as Max left the shop. The first person to give him directions was an elderly man, his face wrinkled, and his hands holding onto a lute. He pointed towards a barred-window building, which featured a sign that read in faded letters "Soldier's Office".

Just before Max entered the Soldier's Office, in the right corner of his vision, a knightly figure with short blonde hair, parted in the middle, his sleeves green, his metal gauntlets a rusted red, the same as his pants, and his armor white. A beige mantle sweeped along the dirtied streets, and his right hand was clasped around another man's throat. This man was wearing mostly green, his hands clasped around the knight's arm. The knight's mouth would move, his facial expression angry, but no sound would come out. He tossed the other man onto the ground, and drew his sword, pointing at the rump-set fellow, who was retreating away, his mouth moving, but uttering no sound.

The two males were soon gone, as if into thin air, and nobody around the scene seems to have noticed. When Max entered the soldier's office, the dirtied secretary looked up from her idle tapping pen, "Yes? What do you want?" Her facial features turned curious.

Werner was dressed as a squire, much like those around him. Though, most of the squires were much like him as well, in racial qualities. Given time, the all female race of the Viera were forced to dilute their race with other races' males, the Bangaas finally succumbing to the magic around them, becoming dragons, and the Seeqs were pushed out into Ordalia by the ever expansive humans.

Tannis's hazel gaze drifted upwards, at the dangling legs, and her legs shifted closer to the bedside, her blade being placed on the bed's sheets. Idly, her hazel gaze drifted towards the gnoll, her curved lips curling into a soft smile, "Tis' likely the usual postings." Tannis's legs returned to her normal, wide-legged stance, her right hand placing her blade upon her knees, her left hand sliding the whetstone along the edges of the blade.

However, amongst the clutters of posted papers, a few pristine papers stood out amongst the older, more yellow papers. They had large, bold headings.

Girl at Gulg Volcano: Igros Castle.
Trap of the Bandits: Dorter Trade City.
Testimony of an Ex-miner: Magic City Gariland.

The lead Hokuten knight stepped forward, eying the horned girl with idle interest, turning his gaze to the balding merchant. The other two knights flank the lead knight. The lead knight offers a nod towards the balding merchant, "As you may know, the Corpse Brigade has its spies in all manner of places within Dorter. Though we are eradicating their troops at a steady pace, we require more resources." The balding man stiffens, his fingers curling, as the lead knight continues, "We ask of you half of your current currency." The balding man stutters, his face becoming beet-red, "H-h-h-half?! I won't ruin myself, even for the Hokuten!" His massive sideburns bristle with contempt.

The other two knights reach for their weapons, placing their hands upon the hilts of long-swords, the lead knight's voice becomes lower, "Right now, it's hard to tell the difference between those merchants who support the Corpse Brigade's terrorist actions, and those who don't...It is our sworn duty to kill the Corpse Brigade, and those who support it." The balding man becomes pale, then he curses, underneath his breath. "Fine. You'll have your shipment of gold by tomorrow." The lead knight nods, "Thank you for your cooperation." He signals to the other two knights and they exit the shop, leaving the balding man staring at his polished counter-top, his eyes moving subtly as he thinks.