[ Confusion was still a high coursing through her veins. Senses adjusting, but no sense being made. Elizabeth had come from a long line of temple scribes and yet — the world was nothing more than an adventure waiting to be had. This... was certainly not what she believed it would be.
You can find Elizabeth: a. outside of her assigned room when she first arrives. b. out hanging clothes on the wires in the back of the inn to earn her keep. c. sitting around polishing the mud and dirt off the Siphon. d. asking anyone about Atrómitos and its downfall. ]
CITY UNDER SIEGE
Get out! You — brutish — creature! Ugh!
[ Elizabeth had found herself holed away in one of the smaller inns on the outskirts of the city. She's seen orcs and their torches march past the inn, a direct course to the city resting onward beyond them. There was rustling downstairs — a few screams and grunts. Had she any idea, she would have assumed the poor barmaiden had undoubtedly lost her life or the small congregation of wisemen she's met been slain. Elizabeth was a wise satyr, barricading herself in one of the store rooms in the kitchen.
That was smart, until she had no way out. The door had already opened and instead — you, or some orc depending — opens the door to it. Elizabeth's cry out was the only warning before jars of canned fruit and her own bag was sent flying to your head. Sorry, she's not going down without a fight. ]
IT BURNS, IT YEARNS
You can't be serious.
[ A bold voice for such a meek girl. The sun was a distant memory and the darkness of cover provided the inn Elizabeth first found herself a resident of as a hot spot for some questionable activities. After all was said and done, there was a small gathering of bounty hunters keen on setting out for the first orc they could fine. They had their figurative pitchforks and torches ready. Ah, actually the group was armed and ready to bring the "beast" back. Elizabeth had only come in to help serve selflessly with a hot meal to earn her own keep — and yet, here they were... trying to come up with a poor idea.
Her little satyr hooves could only take her so far as she weaves between the people, speaking up louder: ]
They still have more than you all on their side and you wish to charge in waving your swords? You — you can't simply expect to succeed with this foolish, headstrong idea!
WILDCARD
[ i'm bad at top-leveling, so pls feel free to wild card me if none of the options fit! ]
elizabeth | ota
You can find Elizabeth:
a. outside of her assigned room when she first arrives.
b. out hanging clothes on the wires in the back of the inn to earn her keep.
c. sitting around polishing the mud and dirt off the Siphon.
d. asking anyone about Atrómitos and its downfall. ]
CITY UNDER SIEGE
[ Elizabeth had found herself holed away in one of the smaller inns on the outskirts of the city. She's seen orcs and their torches march past the inn, a direct course to the city resting onward beyond them. There was rustling downstairs — a few screams and grunts. Had she any idea, she would have assumed the poor barmaiden had undoubtedly lost her life or the small congregation of wisemen she's met been slain. Elizabeth was a wise satyr, barricading herself in one of the store rooms in the kitchen.
That was smart, until she had no way out. The door had already opened and instead — you, or some orc depending — opens the door to it. Elizabeth's cry out was the only warning before jars of canned fruit and her own bag was sent flying to your head. Sorry, she's not going down without a fight. ]
IT BURNS, IT YEARNS
[ A bold voice for such a meek girl. The sun was a distant memory and the darkness of cover provided the inn Elizabeth first found herself a resident of as a hot spot for some questionable activities. After all was said and done, there was a small gathering of bounty hunters keen on setting out for the first orc they could fine. They had their figurative pitchforks and torches ready. Ah, actually the group was armed and ready to bring the "beast" back. Elizabeth had only come in to help serve selflessly with a hot meal to earn her own keep — and yet, here they were... trying to come up with a poor idea.
Her little satyr hooves could only take her so far as she weaves between the people, speaking up louder: ]
They still have more than you all on their side and you wish to charge in waving your swords? You — you can't simply expect to succeed with this foolish, headstrong idea!
WILDCARD