The peace that formerly reigned in Terra Nova has eroded, now little more than a memory. War ravages the continent. Disputes divide kingdoms; ideals divide families. The quest for power consumes absolutely and indiscriminately. None are immune to its allure.
Who will rise and who will fall? Only time—and ambition—will tell.
UPDATES
05.26.2023
2 month character creation hold for all existing members begins 6/5/2023. Ended 8/5/2023.
10.29.2023
Change in how times flows. Was 4 IC seasons, now only 2 IC seasons per 1 OOC year.
5 whole years of Heir Apparent goodness! When I started the site, I knew I was hunkering down for the long haul, but I never could have predicted the numerous twists and turns this roleplay site has seen. Hundreds of plots, characters, and members have come and gone, all leaving marks on the site. I am so very thankful for those who have invested. Because you keep coming back, keep getting on, and keep writing, Heir Apparent has the legacy it does today. Three cheers to us!
He watched the flask as she pressed it to her lips and the bottom went upward, his brow raised and the edge of his lips matching it. As she offered it back to him, he took it and, though hesitantly, tipped it up and took a quick drink. It burned the whole way down, settling somewhere in his chest. Handing it back to her, he nodded. "It had a note on it that said 'relax a little', I suppose because they think they're funny. What was it we said about the village kids?"
Groups of soldiers were now beginning to settle down to eat. Many had gotten their portions of dried meats, vegetables, bread, and grains. While some chose to eat what they could as-is, others began cooking. With most of them settled around their fires, there was finally a sense of calm among the troop. Some had been chosen for guard duty and circles the area where everyone settled. He was sure more problems would arise later, when the soldiers began to retire to their tents and found them crumbling under the movement, but at least for now, there seemed to be little to worry about.
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Soldiers have now begun to circle the camp as 'guards.' Most have their tents and campfires up and established, and many have began taking their portions of the rations for eating/cooking. By the end of the night, the rations will be used up. Soldiers have around two hours before full cover of darkness. The air will be colder at night, and the wind may be picking up, but otherwise weather conditions are agreeable.
He heard Berengar Stormcrest, nodded and joined him, Elletta Haider and Cyrus Parric to stand by the group. Torsten stepped up to Ber and stayed quiet while the others did the talking. A chance to get out that extra energy instead of sitting around camp doing nothing for two hours, didn't exactly sound like an ideal time. An opportunity to stretch his legs and get in some healthy competition was just the right idea.
"Sounds good. Count me in." he answered.
Ber always seemed like a fun guy and he knew that a hunting challenge might perk things up a bit. Not to mention the idea of more food was always good. It was the only downside to joining the milltary--the food. Torsten was a big eater and loved his food but here, he had to take only what was rationed and make sure he didn't take more than anyone else. Hunger was a great motivator if nothing else.
Privately, he pondered the separate ideals within the ranks between nobles and commoners. Going hungry and working hard were accepted and ordinary things for Torsten and his status, but how did the other half view this kind of hunting challenge? Was it something to occupy their idle time? The opportunity for more food was nearly always at the top of his list of priorities. Given the opportunity, he was a big eater with a ravenous appetite, so this challenge had a personal touch to it--more food, which he wouldn't turn down.
Last Edit: Jan 20, 2023 12:52:19 GMT -5 by Deleted
Post by Regan Lassiter on Jan 20, 2023 12:35:36 GMT -5
Regan snorted, taking a sip before responding. “That they’re a collective pain in the ass,” She grinned, resting the flask on her knee, “But apparently, they know you pretty well.” Regan, now a little buzzed, was starting to focus more on @warren than her babysitting Othello Allemeade. Seemed like he was doing alright. She had yet to be asked about the hunting but had told him to check in before doing anything too outside the box.
So at present, Regan was content to enjoy Warren’s company. Damn Grant Delaney and whatever he might be up to, she thought sourly.
The primary application of his Gift, which is Metalkinesis, is the mental control over magnetism and the manipulation of both ferrous and nonferrous metal.
Level 10; Arynnite ship with the ability to both fly and submerge fully under water. THE DROWNED CANARY.*Temporarily deactivated*
Post by Othello Allemeade on Jan 20, 2023 14:01:45 GMT -5
All terms and conditions had been accepted, so Othello joined the them around the fire but he sat silent listening. As it drew closer to Othello finally hopped up, "Got to check in with the boss for this, sit tight friends," and the gifted man sauntered to find Regan.
She sat with a old head Othello only really knew the mans face but he answered directly to one person, "Ma'am, so we have a team building exercise in mind...a little friendly thing of course...we got two teams," he pointed out Zarha, "myself and misses Zarha against those other lot, twenty pheasants or one big game brought back before dark...," Othello looked perhaps like a child waiting for permission from his parents, eager and totally hoping to not be let down!
Post by Zarha Sliva on Jan 20, 2023 14:12:13 GMT -5
Zarha look at Othello as he walked to Regan to ask her, just hoping that she would allow him to do it. Even if that mean having them following her and Othello as they hunt. She looked at @cyrus and smiled, "I see that the training didn't scare you, it is lovely to see you, I've been wondering how life been treating you." She smiled.
She looked at @torsten and smiled. "My name is Zarha, it a honor of meeting you." She offered the soldier a hand to shake. She was trying to be friendly and taking a effort to trust people. "I am so looking forward to this challenge at hand. I just hope Woodwick and the huntsmen allow us to do it." Hope was filling her chest as she looked in the direction of @warren and Regan Lassiter
Cyrus grinned and nodded decisively at the groups seeming unanimous agreement. With a fourth person joining their group, @torsten , he felt fairly confident that the odds were evened out, if not stacked to his group's benefit. Turning to stare into the fire, Cyrus became lost in thought as he finished his rations. He'd never been hunting; too young to go with his father, and, of course, from ages twelve to now he was far too preoccupied with training to think about it. Still, the goal was to hit a target with an arrow right? It couldn't be that difficult, he'd done that before at least.
His musings were interrupted by Zarha Sliva's voice nearby, and he looked up at her from his sitting spot on the ground with a friendly smile. "Life has been treating me well! Or at least, as well as I could be treated patrolling the streets of Skia. I haven't been mugged or ambushed yet so I certainly can't complain." Cyrus chucked lightly at this, and looked at Zarha in expectation. "And you?" He lowered his voice, "I hope the Lieutenant has given you something a little more exciting to do in the meantime. Patrolling is almost enough to put a man to sleep." He winked, his lips pulled into an amused smile. "But anyway! Enough fraternizing with the enemy, I hope you're ready to carry my pack back to Skia."
Mosse joined them easily enough, and Ber was tentatively feeling pretty good about their chances of beating Othello and Sliva. The latter engaged Parric in conversation, which he only half listened to - though when the new kid said something about boring patrols, he almost volunteered to let Parric cover Ber’s shifts if he wanted some excitement. He had, however, just popped the remainder of his bread in his mouth when he’d heard the comment, and he was distracted anyway by watching Othello speak with Regan and Woodwick. Soldiers asked for permission to do things all the time, but he was used to seeing people his age address old people like Woodwick. Though he knew very well that Regan called the shots for Othello, it was still a little strange to see it in action.
Elletta grinned around her bread as she watched Othello go off to double check with the boss lady. Yeah, she was pretty certain that this little challenge was stacked towards them but that didn't mean she was gonna write off Othello and Zahra (yes, Elletta was listening to her introduction). Good thing she'd brought both her bows. She'd brought her longbow for hunting as it was, so she'd just be breaking it out a little earlier than planned. Which, lucky her that she'd had the foresight to bring extra arrows and bow strings just in case. Better to be prepared right?
"Yes, they are," Warren agreed, turning to look at her sharply with a single, raised brow. "Do they? Do you think I need to relax more, Ms. Lassiter?" He shrugged a shoulder, looking a little confused. "I thought I was relaxed."
After a few moments, he stood up. "I'll be back." He left the campfire and headed back in the direction of his tent. When he returned ten minutes or so later, he had the flask in his hand. He pulled the note off of it and handed it to Regan as he sat back down, just in time for Othello to approach. He looked up at the man, studying his face over the fire as he requested Regan's permission for a 'team building exercise.' When he was done, Warren turned his eyes back to the fire, not wanting to pressure her into a hasty decision with his attention. As long as they were buddied up and back before dark, Warren didn't think it would be much of a problem. But of course, it was Regan's call to make, so he said nothing.
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Regan Lassiter will post next to allow or deny the request for the hunting competition, followed by @warren to either set the rules for the competition and/or new posting order.
Post by Regan Lassiter on Jan 29, 2023 20:25:21 GMT -5
Regan ugly-laughed, snorting as she struggled not to spill the open flask. “Yeah, sure,” She said sarcastically with a grin, “Waaaay relaxed.” She took an even more sizeable swing than before, intending to shove it back toward the coolest cucumber of the crop. To her disappointment, Warren stood and started to walk away. Regan’s face fell, brow pinching together as she wondered whether she’d done something wrong. She hadn’t quite figured Warren out yet. If she were to step in something, she wouldn’t know until she was scraping it off her shoe.
But before long, @warren returned. Regan’s bright grin returned as she eyed the flask—and Warren, truth be told—greedily. Her mouth opened to say something when Othello approached.
Aided by the liquor on her tongue, Regan’s eyes softened on Othello Allemeade. He’d changed so much since coming to Nevermere. Looking at him now, standing with his comrades, she felt strangely emotional. She paused, weighing her options and her nostalgia, before delivering her verdict:
“No magic.” Regan declared, first to Othello, then to the others standing with him, “Including witchcraft.” She could enforce that with Othello—she held the keys to his gift after all—but with the witches, she’d have to take them on their word (because if they disobeyed, they'd surely suffer the consequences). “And y’all better hurry. That sun’s sinking fast.” Regan grinned, winking at them before taking a quick swig of her drink.
With Regan having given her permission, and her stipulations, Warren wanted only to add one thing: "Make sure you go in opposite directions, and don't aim toward the camp, please. I'd prefer no one mistake the others for big game or make this a friendly fire situation." As the sun began to go down, the groups would have a harder time seeing. This might have seemed obvious to others, but you never knew what you might have to remind the younger soldiers. Once the group had run along to compete against each other, Warren pulled the lid from his own flask and took a quick drink from it. He frowned. It was the cheap stuff, but what did he really expect?
"I'm sure your champion has plenty of experience in the hunt," he commented, looking over at her. "But I'll place my bets on the other group. I'd like to see him and Ms. Sliva try carrying three packs a piece." He offered her a trial of the flask that had been hidden away in his pack, and then settled his attention on the groups as they formulated their plans and gathered their gear to head out into the woods.
RULES: Hunting posts will be two rounds! One to formulate plans and get into position in the forest, one for the actual hunt and return to camp. After the second round, I will post the results of the hunt and the winners. No magic is allowed and if a witch is caught using it, she will be punished!
POSTS: You may refer vaguely to attempts made for pheasants hunted. As [20] is the goal, the numbers below are technically how many rolls you will have the opportunity of "hitting", but you do not need to write out each one. Additionally, it will be decided randomly that one person has the opportunity to catch big game. Who that person is will be revealed before their second round post and their attempt at taking the animal down must be written into their hunting post in order for the roll to be done. If it is ignored, you missed the opportunity all together.
Othello Allemeade and @elletta will be given advantage on rolls, the former for sheer experience and the latter due to adept ability with bows.
- Othello and Zarha will be making [10] attempts each at pheasants. - Ber, Elletta, Cyrus, and Torsten will be making [5] attempts each at pheasants.
A big game catch will be equal the worth of [10] pheasants.
DM me with any questions, otherwise try to have fun with it! Creativity and entertainment may payoff
The primary application of his Gift, which is Metalkinesis, is the mental control over magnetism and the manipulation of both ferrous and nonferrous metal.
Level 10; Arynnite ship with the ability to both fly and submerge fully under water. THE DROWNED CANARY.*Temporarily deactivated*
Post by Othello Allemeade on Jan 30, 2023 8:30:54 GMT -5
Othello bowed and quickly departed, "Berry girl grab your gear, a bow preferably and some bolts," the gifted man barked as he went to gather his own things his crafty all steel battle axe, a coil of rope, a bag, and lastly he made a torch igniting the tip as he waited for Zarha Othello explained the few conditions, "We go opposite directions, as much as I see most of you want to put a arrow in my ass the older head said avoid friendly fire."
With a wink and a dip Othello set off with Zarha waiting to discuss his plan once they hit the tree lines, "Okay, so, I was taking a leak earlier and found these," he pointed out a few prints at the base of a pine, "bear. Winter is coming and their forging before the long sleep, that shit there," he pointed out a few freshly discarded droppings, "they were passing through a few hours ago, probably the last shit they'll take before the leaves and pine cones plug them up...which means there is a cave or something near that they've picked to sleep in. That's what I want...," he held the torch up, "as we go, I'm going to flush out a few pheasant from heavy brush piles... you'll tag them okay? A bear will beat twenty birds but we must make haste yes?"
And that was the plan, follow the bear tracks and take the bigger game. They trekked on almost two miles before they came across a low rolling hill and a cave about three hundred yards from the tree line they had stopped at from here Othello kept his voice low, "keep following this tree line until you are close enough to see the exit of that cave okay, I say your best bet is climb...I'll draw something out of that cave and when I do you shoot and you keep shooting...."
Post by Zarha Sliva on Jan 30, 2023 10:42:14 GMT -5
Hearing Berry girl she laughed softly. "Is Berry girl going to be my nickname from now on 'oh champion of Nevermere!'" She was trying to have a little bit of a joke and and a laugh as she picked up her bow and arrows. She prefer ax but for this activity having a bow at hand is more useful. As she would be more useful as she can reload and take aim quicker then carrying her ax everywhere. She would still have her ax on her back just in case, cause who know what they will encounter.
As they leave she looked at the other ground. "Good luck losers you will need it." Trying to be cheeky but try and show that she was determind to win this. Case there no way she was carrying their bags around.
Following Othello deeper in the forest she knelt down by the tree that Othello and she traced what what look like a bear paw print. Smiling at the sheer thought of taking a bear, she know that she would need to have a lucky shot. "Try and get it stand up, If I get the bear right in the head should be able to take him out." It should be straight forward, but it all about trusting him, and hoping that Zarha trust her enough to bring him back in one piece and not in the stomach of the bear.
When they got closer she started sneaking. tapping Othello on the shoulder pointing up a tear that she will be climbing so he will know where to try and get the prize to run towards. Once she did that she started climbing up High enough to be spotted and try and bland in with the trees. She put the first arrow in remembering her military training. She focus on her breathing, drowning all other noise that was around her, steadying her heart rate and using the tree benches to steady her aim.
Challenge offered. Challenge accepted. Challenge approved. Upon hearing Regan’s and Woodwick’s conditions, Ber nodded, swallowed the last bit of bread, and pushed himself to his feet. Turning to look at the others in his group, he brushed off his hands on his pants and tried to think of what he knew about hunting pheasants or hunting in general. It wasn’t a lot. His experience day in theft and navigating the city streets, not with venturing into the forest to hunt with weapons he’d never really had. But maybe some of what he’d learned then could be applicable here, as well? Admittedly, strategy wasn’t his strong suit either. He would try, though, and hope someone else came up with a better plan.
In the city, one of the more dangerous places to end up were the dead end streets that offered no escape. Even if he didn’t have a guard or someone far less savory on his tail, Ber had always been leery of being trapped in a corner like that because running from threats he couldn’t beat - which, when he had been younger and smaller, was just about all of them - had been the best way to stay alive. There were no dead ends in the forest, as far as he knew, but maybe that didn’t mean they couldn’t make one.
“Do pheasants travel in groups?” Ber posed the question, watching as Othello and Sliva gathered their belongings and disappeared in their chosen direction. He looked back to the others, whom he hoped knew more than he did about hunting. “Could we surround a whole group of them, or maybe chase or lure them into a trap them somehow, and kill them all before they run away?” Squinting up at the sky, he judged the gathering gloom for himself before beginning to gather his own weapons for the hunt, adding as he did so, “We should probably walk and talk. It’s getting dark.”