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Active Rex of Lonmar
- Thread starter FrostGuardian
- Start date
FrostGuardian
Legend
Using the magnetic lasso/quick select tool in Photoshop, and A LOT of erasing.
FrostGuardian
Legend
I added music to describe Rex at the bottom of the original post. If you dunno why that describes Rex, just ask.
Also, all journal entries have been moved to another thread. It makes things a lot easier to organize, and everything will be in chronological order. There's already a few new entries.
Also, all journal entries have been moved to another thread. It makes things a lot easier to organize, and everything will be in chronological order. There's already a few new entries.
W
wakerman4
Guest
Based upon what I've re-read ...
...I sure as nether hope to Roleplay with you again, that's for sure!
...I sure as nether hope to Roleplay with you again, that's for sure!
FrostGuardian
Legend
Thanks!
FrostGuardian
Legend
Yeah, thanks for the reminder.
FrostGuardian
Legend
Rex found Freya, and offered her his service. So it begins...
Hue.
FrostGuardian
Legend
Snow. Instead of the silky touch of a maiden dabbing my face, it’s the fucking snow pelting at my cheeks. And it’s damn windy at that. My gilded cape flaps violently, lashing about like a ferocious snake. Nature is trying to erode away at my face like it has done to the mountains to the right. Its cragged peaks block the afternoon sun, causing an unwelcomed darkness to descend upon where I walk. It’s a bit chillier. I’ve been through worse in Valerion lands, but my time in the Northern Kingdoms has made me slightly less tolerant of the cold, and a bit more so of the heat.
The mountain comes to an abrupt end. Following my gut, I turn right, heading past the snow ridden heap of rock. A bit of blue seems to float off in the distance, barely visible in the blizzard. Must be a lake. As I continue to go forward, my footsteps progress to less of a drag and more like normal footsteps. The snow’s shallower. My boot crunches on some ice. Through the howling of the wind, I can hear the bustling of people. A few yells and shouts stand out among the blunder of noise.
“Oof.”
My face meets a wooden pole. Grunting, I step back, trying for a better view of what I crashed into. The pole is one of many that support a tent. A rather large one. Most of the cloth is white (feasibly why I did not see it), with a few decorative bits of red and green. Searching for an entrance, I circle the structure. Other tents appear to me, and people. Inadvertently, I bump shoulders with those passing me. They don’t seem to notice my stature in the storm.
But from my brief glances at the folks here, they look like Norvägens… this must be the Norvag camp… But who leads them? Perhaps I can find their leader in the tent I’ve been circling, the largest one. I continue on. A few weak flickers of light lick the ground with its shadows. That’s definitely a torch… Striding to the shadow, I find the entrance. The snow clears away from my view, revealing a rather cozy looking interior. Heavy woolen mats lay flat on the ground, red and white in color. A table with a large map is situated in the center. Leaning over it, is a woman clad in a fur trimmed cloak, with red hair loose about her shoulders. I clear my throat. She looks up from thought.
“Excuse me, mind telling me who’s in charge here?” I ask.
Her grey eyes flicker from the map and then to me, eyebrows slanting in a scowl.
“I am the Jarl here,” she calmly replies.
For a moment, I continue to stare at her. Did she say Jarl, the fucking Jarl? That means… Draco had a daughter. There’s a legitimate heir, real, blue Lonmar blood. This changes things. This. Changes. Everything.
The mountain comes to an abrupt end. Following my gut, I turn right, heading past the snow ridden heap of rock. A bit of blue seems to float off in the distance, barely visible in the blizzard. Must be a lake. As I continue to go forward, my footsteps progress to less of a drag and more like normal footsteps. The snow’s shallower. My boot crunches on some ice. Through the howling of the wind, I can hear the bustling of people. A few yells and shouts stand out among the blunder of noise.
“Oof.”
My face meets a wooden pole. Grunting, I step back, trying for a better view of what I crashed into. The pole is one of many that support a tent. A rather large one. Most of the cloth is white (feasibly why I did not see it), with a few decorative bits of red and green. Searching for an entrance, I circle the structure. Other tents appear to me, and people. Inadvertently, I bump shoulders with those passing me. They don’t seem to notice my stature in the storm.
But from my brief glances at the folks here, they look like Norvägens… this must be the Norvag camp… But who leads them? Perhaps I can find their leader in the tent I’ve been circling, the largest one. I continue on. A few weak flickers of light lick the ground with its shadows. That’s definitely a torch… Striding to the shadow, I find the entrance. The snow clears away from my view, revealing a rather cozy looking interior. Heavy woolen mats lay flat on the ground, red and white in color. A table with a large map is situated in the center. Leaning over it, is a woman clad in a fur trimmed cloak, with red hair loose about her shoulders. I clear my throat. She looks up from thought.
“Excuse me, mind telling me who’s in charge here?” I ask.
Her grey eyes flicker from the map and then to me, eyebrows slanting in a scowl.
“I am the Jarl here,” she calmly replies.
For a moment, I continue to stare at her. Did she say Jarl, the fucking Jarl? That means… Draco had a daughter. There’s a legitimate heir, real, blue Lonmar blood. This changes things. This. Changes. Everything.
I prefer mine oxygenated, thanks! ;D
FrostGuardian
Legend
xD Blue blood, a term for noble blood
Oho, I knows I do, I knows!xD Blue blood, a term for noble blood
Lovely writing, mmmmhm!
*Cackles and wheezes off into the distance*
FrostGuardian
Legend
Rex having a blast training Chevaliers and beginning to train Norvags, on opposite ends of the Kingdoms. #Workaholic #HateMyBoss #NeedRaise #MoreHolidays
FrostGuardian
Legend
Rex hates being called Sir. He prefers Lord.
Shh, can't expect Freya to have memorised the title of every single compatriot of Draco's.
FrostGuardian
Legend
Freya isn't the only one who calls him Sir, unfortunately...Shh, can't expect Freya to have memorised the title of every single compatriot of Draco's.
Michcat
i'm the wench if you're the cake ;)
bahahahhahaa