Welcome to the Roleplayer's Haven, a website dedicated to the roleplayers of Shadow Council, World of Warcraft!
This website serves as a community portal and roleplaying archive for all roleplayers of Shadow Council, regardless of faction, guild, or roleplaying experience. Once you have created an account with your character's name, you can begin writing a character blog, participate on our OOC discussion and IC roleplaying forums, advertise your events (and keep track of others), share your creativity, and enjoy the creative talents of others on our server. All are welcome!
How does one upload an image to the character galleries? >.>
((A piece I played with last month for the family prompt but never got around to finishing until today!))
When Rhellus first saw Saphra, he was sitting outside a newly constructed armory, sorting out cast-offs with another member of his guard. She was walking past them, paying the world around her little heed, intent on some unknown destination. The armory was situated in a grove of many-colored trees, each one clawing at the silver heavens with their splendid boughs, but somehow, the wood seemed to dim a little in her presence. He remembered the chatter from his buddy - errant conversation about an upcoming gathering, dancing, girls - and how it quieted to a dull buzz in his ears.
The tip of the dagger grazed her flesh causing the hairs on her arms and neck to stand.
She stared at the trembling hand, blade poised at her stomach.
Tears falling from her eyes as the possibilities and ways out came and went, each more absurd then the next.
“Do it…” a voice in her head screamed out as the hand trembled again, she became detached, seeing the hand as another’s, instead of her own. The blade now an extension of what she was, a paladin of the light, the demon needed to be killed, her demon, and the baby she now carries.
“Abomination, kill it!” the voice screamed and she crumpled. Her knee’s giving as the dagger clattered down on the floor.
“I can’t…I can’t…” she said in a loud to no one, as her sobs echoed through her home.
“It will only kill you, the light cannot hold a demon…” she felt her stomach heave bringing up nothing but bile.
...for rp. Period. I'm not opposed to moving outside of the Warcraft universe either, or off-site, but I'm currently unable to download any games or messengers so I'm limited there. Websites, email, and msn are my current options. It's been THREE YEARS since I've had steady RP - and by steady, I mean more than once every few months (give or take a few times of a few days in a row) - due to lack of internet, so I'm just about at the desperate-for-rp stage. I'm up for anything. My current schedule: I'm spotty throughout the day, a few minutes here and there. At night I usually log on anywhere between 9pm and 11 pm and head to bed between midnight and 2 am, eastern standard time. That's the beauty of forums, you can reply when you're able. <3 So...here are a few of my character profiles, and I'm not opposed to creating a new one custom for you. <3
I hired a scribe. A courier.
Saviero's lips are still a delight.
So it's been awhile since SoO came out. I have been wondering how "far" characters are playing things?
Kharris would like to move the ATS Barge back to Bladefist Bay once the fighting is done. So I'm curious, how are most RPers on the server calling things now? It's my inclination to say Garrosh has been defeated and Vol'jin and the Horde are rebuilding/back in Orgrimmar. But I don't want to slam into other people's RP "Bubbles" too much if I'm the only one thinking this.
How is everyone playing the Seige? Finished? Ongoing? Vol'jin in charge now?
This week we look at another legend of the Alliance, Lother's friend and second Turalyon, who became a leader in his own right--and whose MIA status has fueled speculation since the Dark Portal's reopening. Come find out why many in the Alliance are so keen to learn where this man is at the 7th evening horn on Thursday, December 12th, in Ironforge's Hall of Explorers. There will be time for questions and then socializing at a local bar afterwards.
I'm kind-of sort-of almost-maybe back! I'm a poor man, and my computer was destroyed a few years ago by someone in a drug rage, so....I'm rather limited on how much internet I can access. My aunt's laptop is the means currently, but she's banned any and all WoW related things due to how much it slowed her laptop down the one time it was put on it. So. Anyone interested in maintaining contact, I has email, snaily mail, facebook, msn, and when I can afford another phone card, yahoo and a number for textage. Love you guys. Miss you. :(
((I recommend looping this while reading. ;p))
The rented room in the upper floors of the Salty Sailor Tavern lay dark save for the dull emerald glimmer of sin'dorei eyes, reflected back on doll-like features by the vanity mirror. Full, pouty lips pursed at the dainty reflection for a careful sweep of cosmetics brush, sanguine gloss shining beautifully beneath a single strip of onyx in the center of those lips. A finely sculpted brow lofted at the sounds of fighting in the pub below, a cruel smirk pulling at those pretty, decorated lips as the elf reached for a tin of glitter and a pair of fishnet stockings. Show time.
Hey guys! I'm going to try and do a bunch of quick commissions this weekend for the holidays. $25 will get you a painted character bust and some icons, $10 will get you a sketch. If you want one, let me know! Comment, PM, or email me at firstname.lastname@example.org if you're interested! My deviantart is here if you'd like to peruse, but I haven't updated it in a while.
I heard her whispered plea, as soon as she stumbled through the door. My name, like a bitter-sweet benediction.
Bleeding from her chest, shivering. A vision of death.
Commander Ebonlocke sat quietly, looking over papers that covered the table she sat at. A deep frown formed on her face as she looked up towards her father who stood across the room, talking to members of the community. She couldn't hear the conversation, but she was pretty sure that it had to do with the same topic as her reports. The destruction of the acadmy set up by the Shrouded Dawn.
(I had one of the craziest days of Rp yesterday and I thought, how the hell will I fit everything into one blog. So---- I made my Imp do it. Sorry for the length, but it was literally scene-to-scene)
There were many things that Ziluri the Imp hated about Synnaquin. The rumor about toe-painting were true, however, that was one of many horrid things that his mistress required of him. The other thing was that he had to accompany her where ever she went.
This doesn't seem horrible until you realize what a chaotic monster she truly was.
Traskus threw a punch with his massive black fist. Shaoqing, at the speed of thought, lanced the big draenei with pure pain. Traskus cried out, holding his head, and stumbled, missing his punch. He lashed out blindly. Shaoqing rolled aside, dodging the blow. Raising her hands, she summoned a shadow mist around Traskus. The shadow magic billowed across his skin, causing him to grunt in pain. But it also cleared his head. He bolted out of the mist, and in two quick strides of his long legs, he had Shao by the throat, lifting her off the ground. He applied enough pressure to make her gasp for breath before setting her down. He bowed to her, and she bowed back.
"That was better." He said. "You dodged several blows. And your attacks were much stronger."
Shao rubbed her neck and coughed a little to clear her throat. "Didn't last long."
The Musically Challenged
Music filled her mind as Fiawyn went to the mailbox to retrieve her letters. Not just from her memory, but also from down the hallway, where she could hear the drummer banging rhythms on his bedposts again in that steady 4/4 beat. At least he wasn't doing it in the middle of the day when she was trying to study. She never fully understood percussionists and their constant need to tap things. This clashed with the melancholy strain of a melody coming from two doors down. Nothing could compare to the high-pitched song of the violin as the violinist fumbled with a complicated motif. Fiawyn would say she was up to her ears in music, and she loved it.
The office was dark except for a lone candle that flickered in loving teasing response to the shadows. 'Come play with me,' they whispered in fluttering movement. It sounded like her voice, teasing, dark, and icy.
Her eyes snapped open in the darkness, the transition from sleep to wakefulness happening in an instant. What occurs is an instinctual response; the same instincts that cause the growing of fangs and the extending of claw; and without thinking her form shifts to that of the beast. Now, in the moment, her senses come to life. Tufted ears swivel but hear only the soft drumming of rain on the roof, and in the near distance the quiet whicker of horse and other things in the nearby stables, oh yes and the breath coming from the form beside her. Her brain continues to process. Her eyes, reflecting a yellow glow from the fire which has burned down to mostly embers, see only the dark interior of a ranch house by the sea.
The tea master spoke of his noble quest to find the perfect tea, with balanced flavor and aroma.
There was no sweeter sound than Lu's ears than the song of peace.
Azeroth has a varied culture base and weird tech! Goblin radios are a thing! We've got clubs and dance halls, major bands and neat instuments! How does music affect your characters? Do they play it themselves? Do they compose or just listen? Do they have a favorite style or band? This month's prompt is your musical oyster!
The nights have been cold, sitting alone near the hearth watching the flames flicker until they are nothing but a warm glowing lump of dust. My stomach clenches again, unease but this is normal…at least lately it has been, worry consumes us.
Will he come back? Is he hurt? Where did he go?
These things will plague me until I have answers…until we…have answers.
Tonight at 7 at the Hall of Explorer's, thanks to the handy healing properties of the Light, Darlain will be managing to take a break from her new baby boy to begin a lecture series on the Heroes of the Horde, both old and new. Mirroring Arkav's series on the heroes of the alliance, Dar will be speaking about the Warchief of the 2nd War, Ogrim Doomhammer.
"What are you doing here?"
Mara reached towards the light and fell through it, falling into a world where she instantly floated. Her feet were a couple of inches off the ground and she looked at herself. She was bathed in purest white, and even her gown was drenched in sunlight. Not a single spot was visible anywhere, and her fingers were gloved with white lace ribbons around the edges. Her hair was perfectly placed, not a single strand missing, and securely fashioned to her head. All around her she saw beings of light floating, but incorporeal. But the voice came again, this time from behind her.
"What are you doing here, Amamara?"
He felt her presence prickling up the back of his neck before she'd uttered even a sound. All the same, the sight of her threw him off – a hooded helm, leaving the female voice featureless, save for two burning, fel-green embers in the shadows. The helm crowned by a half-halo kissing a demonic horn, leering visages carved into armor the color of dried blood – a child-like angel with devil's wings, a grinning skull with angel's trappings.
The grim reaper come to call in dulcet tones.
“Now where might those schematics be, Kragg?”
Let’s do this.