It’s day two of four, aboard the Double Drackon, airship Helmed by two dwarven brothers. William and James, boisterous, hearty, and eccentric merchants that transport people and goods across the continent. The air is dry and the wind strong at your back. The warm sun glares down, (about noon) only finding comfort in the shade of the sails and the occasional high cloud. The low humming of the arcane engines on the outside wings and back of the ship. The motley crew manning the ship made up of a variety of workers. Moxley the Minotaur the chef, Lespin the goblin in charge of overseeing the cargo, and Buddy the half Orc - Ship’s First mate are the ones primarily you’ve had contact with. For some the journey has been comfortable in the fine rooms provided. However this ship is filled to the brim with other passengers and cargo, some of you may be stuck sleeping down below with the boxes. You find yourself On the upper deck of the Stern (back) where Moxley has set up a makeshift cantina, serving light beverages and snacks. There are stools tied down and boxes arranged for seating. An extra sail has been fixed to provide shade and comfort from overhead.
Jax's head would shimmer as the sunlight reflected off of the top of his buckler shaped head. The warforge remained motionless aside from his long black leather jacket that swayed in the breeze as the ship moved through the clouds. Jax wore no other clothing except for a belt that contained a number of pouches, tools, and bags. A holster containing a holster on his hip. Eventually as the ship made its way through the air, Jax would turn his head slowly towards the makeshift cantina. The large yellow lens that made up the majority of the warforged's face would dim and brighten as it focused on the individuals sitting around the bar. Without saying a word, he would make his way towards cantina and stand among the crowd... choosing to stand in the same spot he has been most of the last two days. From that location the warforged could listen to the conversations around him while keeping his back against the wall..
The young looking half-elf looks very much at ease. She has in fact been anything but why in discussing the workings of the ship with anyone who seemed remotely open to do so. Even volunteering to help out when she could. “She‘s a fine ship Moxie. She might even give a few of Lyrandar’s a run for their money.” She is wearing tight breaches with a blue dress overtop of them. High slots run up the dress at each leg in the front and in the middle of the back to facilitate ease of movement. A lined leather vest completes the outfit. “Someday I’ll have a ship of my own. And no one will be able to touch her.”
Seated in the middle of the cantina, looking thoughtful and in good spirits, sits a young man with vaguely feline features, surrounded by evidence of much consumption of snacks and beverages. He's leaning back on his chair, scribbling furiously in a notebook for short stretches and then resurfacing for air. His ears do actually seem to prick up as he hears the half-elf's last comment, and he leans forward towards her. You've got big plans, I take it? Trading? Or something more exciting? Sorry, haven't had a chance to introduce myself yet, the name's Lucky. And you are?He offers a hand to shake, with fingers that look mostly like fingers, but suggesting claws a little more than most hands would.
The copper skinned, black haired young woman at the very back of the ship has spoken very little during the trip, unless directly addressed. Wearing a simple outfit of red silk with gold thread embroidery, she's a bit of an enigma. Woven into the outfit are what almost looks like silver dragon scales, the sun reflecting brightly off them. A dagger that appears to made of a dragon's fang hangs at her side. When asked, the young woman has given her name as Tara. She watches the warforged especially with significant interest, and you're pretty sure you've spotted her making notes on everything from the airship's elemental engine to the positions of the stars to the dragonmarks of any Marked on board (with full scale diagrams). Now, however, she is merely watching the other members of the airship go about their business.
Just so it's here in the thread too:
Tara's eyes move to the shifter as he speaks, and she turns her head slightly to look at the half-elf in the blue dress.
Reaching out to take your hand in greetings you can easily see what appears to be an odd tattoo wrapping her forearm. "Pleased to meet you Lucky. I am Salqwyn d'Lyrandar. As to plans I'm sure there will be some transport of people and goods. The real point though is diplomacy. What about you Lucky? What dreams do you have?"
The Minotaur gives a knowing nod to Salqwyn. Removing the dish rag hanging from his horn he twirls it in the air and the seemingly normal cloth springs to life as it begins to wipe down all the glasses. He gives a chuckle at the remarks about making the give the “Lyandar a run for their money”. He says in a deep bluesy voice “Wouldn’t be a first time, the Drackon’s did that. See they claimed the wreckage of this ship after the war and somehow managed to figure it out and get it back in order. Lyandar’s didn’t like that and sued, the brothers claimed salvage rights. They settle in out of court that the Lyandar’s get a forty percent cut from everything the Drackon’s earn from the ship..... and what to the dwarves do? They open a non-profit charity! HA!” As he continues to laugh. Without looking the rag floats back towards Moxley as he catches it and hangs it back up on his left horn.
Its a quiet day up in the clouds and you begin to hear the co-captains shouting orders around as a large thunderstorm gloom’s the horizon. They begin making adjustments and changing the course. Eventually the shouting stops until you see a dwarven figure in a bright and shiny blue dress robe that’s open and glory. The chest hair peaking out the V-neck, his hair fashioned into a top know and beard braided elaborately to his waist. Followed behind him is a pale skinned goblin carrying a clipboard and a feather, scribbling furiously as he goes and struggles to keep up. Adorned in a white silk parachute type pants, a brown vest and a white head wrapping. The dwarf approaches the bar and loudly proclaims “FOR THOSE WHO I HAVENT HAD THE PLEASURE OF MEETING, I AM WILLIAM DRACKON, WELCOME ABOARD! WE ARE PLEASED TO HAVE YOU WITH US, LLOKS LIKE TO BE SOME LIGHT WEATHER BY NIGHTFALL.... NOTHING TOO SERIOUS, CONTINUE ON ENJOYING YOUR FLIGHT!” With that he continues on shaking hands with the guests and giving a smile to the two at the bar. Giving a nod and a wink to the lady sitting quietly sitting in the back, patting the Warforged on the shoulder, And attempting to squeeze past the quiet elf on his way to a trap door below deck. Lespin the goblin continues to follow as he struggles.
Tara blinks as William winks at her, watching him pass for a moment before turning an intent gaze on the mark spreading across Squall's arms, quietly taking out a piece of paper and beginning to make notes, occasionally glancing up at the storm brewing with an utterly calm expression.
Breathing in the air and the thick scent of an oncoming storm, Virnen Palaris gazes around the deck at the motley of other travelers onboard the airship. Dressed in a fine leather armor set and a green cloak wrapped around his shoulders, Virnen awkwardly fidgets with the hilt of one of his Elven short swords concealed behind his cloak. His blonde hair is tied back in a bun and his bright green eyes fall upon the Warforged leaning against the wall. Against his better judgement and overcome with curiosity, he carefully pads over to approach the mechanical man. "Hello there! I'm sorry if I'm disturbing but I've never really left home and you're the first Warforged I've ever seen." He extends a slender arm for a handshake. "My name is Virnen Palaris. What's yours?"
Diplomacy, Lucky repeats enthusiastically, Yes, peace between nations, and the advancement of one's own of course. Where did you say you were from? Now diplomacy must lead the way, since war is... well, no longer an option for civilised folks. I am very pleased to meet you, Ms. Salqwyn. And I would love to hear all about your diplomatic ambitions, somewhere a little quieter, and he gestures around the busy room.
For me, you could say that I'm already living my dream. Out to see the world, to meet new people, learn about their lives, maybe write a few paragraphs here and there. What could possibly be grander?
Salqwyn "Squall" d'Lyrandar / Half-elf Sorcerer - Perception to see Tara studying my arm : 15
Reference image for my 'tattoo'
"Excuse me for a moment Lucky." Rising easily from her seat the half-elf makes for the bow of the ship. Watching the crew work and looking to the storm. She studies the movement of the clouds and tries to get a feel for the direction of the storm and if the ship and crew will be able to avoid it.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Oh, no worries, I'm sure I'll catch you later,Lucky says easily. Then after the half-elf has gone, he mutters under his breath, Bet your life on it.
He scribbles in his notebook for a while, then looks up again, noticing the human noticing the warforged, and sits forward, attempting to listen in on any interesting conversations going on around him. Perception10
Tara looks mildly disappointed as Squall departs, and abandons the half-sketched diagram of her Mark she was working on, folding it neatly away. She turns her full attention to the warforged and elf, considering whether to go over as she listens to their conversation.
Squall has noticed catching eyes with the woman in the back of the ship. As she moves towards the bow. The clouds are quite a ways in the distance. Barely visible to the eye, word must’ve come down from the crow’s nest about the storm. It’s too far out to tell what the ship is doing now would effect how it handles the storm, but she is assured in the fact that they will have plenty of time to navigate out of the way of the heart of the storm. Probably just a light shower. Other than that the ship would travel too far out of its way to make its ETA.
Lucky and Tara now shift their attention to the crowd and conversations, Especially the conversation between the warforged and Elf.
Reassured that the captains had everything under control and chiding herself for her doubt, however slight, in the ships crew just because it lacked one of her house among them. Salqwyn turns and heads back to join the rest of the passengers. Walking over she sits down next to the woman in the red dress. Holding her arm out to display the mark upon it. "Hello. I am Salqwyn d'Lyrandar. I couldn't help but notice you looking at my Mark. I take it, by your interest, you know what this is. And my name should confirm it as the Mark of Storm. In the future I would suggest you simply ask to see it. Those of us who wear them so openly are rarely touchy about discussing them with others."
Tara blinks as Salqwyn makes her way over and speaks. She blushes faintly. "I apologize if I offended you," she murmurs. "Yes, I know what it is...quite comprehensively, in fact. I do remember reading they were called Marks of Storm in that particular arrangement of lines. And your name, d'Lyrandar, means you are a member of House Lyrandar that manifested her Mark, yes?" She bites her lip. "Oh, name. I am Tara." She gives no surname, immediately moving on to her next train of thought. "I study dragonmarks, among other things," she explains. "Most people do not wish to stand still for a long period of time so I can diagram theirs, so I just do it from a distance."
Chuckling Salqwyn answers. "Apology accepted, though in truth I was not offended. I will admit I am not known for my ability to sit still, even for short amounts of time. But I do hope to ... demystify peoples views of the dragonmarks, and those who bear them. I am happy to let you study it and will gladly answer any questions you might have Tara. Do you have a mark?"
"Greetings Virnen Palaris, I am called Jax" The warforged would reply as he takes hold of the wood elf's hand. "You must not have fought in the war if I am the first warforged you have encountered" Jax would add as his singular lens seemed to rotate and focus on Varnen's face before quickly looking him up and down. "Most elves I have encountered were on the battle field... either controlling powerful magics or weilding razor-sharp blades..." He would mention as he focused once more on Varnen's face. "Are you a Valenar by chance mr. Palaris?" The warforged would ask as his bucker-sheped head tilts downward ever-so-slightly as he looks towards the direction of the wood-elf's blades. The words of the warforged seemed to come from somewhere under the large lens on the front of Jax's face... or lack--there-of, and his movments were fairly rigid. He seemed to only move when absolutely necessary, almost to the point of looking as though he were actively trying to prevent any movement as his long leather jacket whipped around in the breeze.
(OOC: So at first I thought the GOLD was OK but now I do think it is kind of hard to read BooksBooks. If I am the only one that thinks that you can feel free to leave it though. )
Tara shakes her head. "Oh, no. I could not even imagine being such a part of the-part of such a bloodline," she corrects quickly. "I am not a member of any of the true Marked lines, and I have not manifested an aberrant mark." She takes out her half-finished diagram and continues working on it as she speaks, occasionally making notes on the sketch in a strange language (Draconic). "How did your Mark manifest?"
It’s day two of four, aboard the Double Drackon, airship Helmed by two dwarven brothers. William and James, boisterous, hearty, and eccentric merchants that transport people and goods across the continent. The air is dry and the wind strong at your back. The warm sun glares down, (about noon) only finding comfort in the shade of the sails and the occasional high cloud. The low humming of the arcane engines on the outside wings and back of the ship. The motley crew manning the ship made up of a variety of workers. Moxley the Minotaur the chef, Lespin the goblin in charge of overseeing the cargo, and Buddy the half Orc - Ship’s First mate are the ones primarily you’ve had contact with. For some the journey has been comfortable in the fine rooms provided. However this ship is filled to the brim with other passengers and cargo, some of you may be stuck sleeping down below with the boxes. You find yourself On the upper deck of the Stern (back) where Moxley has set up a makeshift cantina, serving light beverages and snacks. There are stools tied down and boxes arranged for seating. An extra sail has been fixed to provide shade and comfort from overhead.
(introductions)
Jax's head would shimmer as the sunlight reflected off of the top of his buckler shaped head. The warforge remained motionless aside from his long black leather jacket that swayed in the breeze as the ship moved through the clouds. Jax wore no other clothing except for a belt that contained a number of pouches, tools, and bags. A holster containing a holster on his hip. Eventually as the ship made its way through the air, Jax would turn his head slowly towards the makeshift cantina. The large yellow lens that made up the majority of the warforged's face would dim and brighten as it focused on the individuals sitting around the bar. Without saying a word, he would make his way towards cantina and stand among the crowd... choosing to stand in the same spot he has been most of the last two days. From that location the warforged could listen to the conversations around him while keeping his back against the wall..
Salqwyn "Squall" d'Lyrandar
The young looking half-elf looks very much at ease. She has in fact been anything but why in discussing the workings of the ship with anyone who seemed remotely open to do so. Even volunteering to help out when she could. “She‘s a fine ship Moxie. She might even give a few of Lyrandar’s a run for their money.” She is wearing tight breaches with a blue dress overtop of them. High slots run up the dress at each leg in the front and in the middle of the back to facilitate ease of movement. A lined leather vest completes the outfit. “Someday I’ll have a ship of my own. And no one will be able to touch her.”
"Lucky" Dale, Shifter Bard
Seated in the middle of the cantina, looking thoughtful and in good spirits, sits a young man with vaguely feline features, surrounded by evidence of much consumption of snacks and beverages. He's leaning back on his chair, scribbling furiously in a notebook for short stretches and then resurfacing for air. His ears do actually seem to prick up as he hears the half-elf's last comment, and he leans forward towards her. You've got big plans, I take it? Trading? Or something more exciting? Sorry, haven't had a chance to introduce myself yet, the name's Lucky. And you are? He offers a hand to shake, with fingers that look mostly like fingers, but suggesting claws a little more than most hands would.
The copper skinned, black haired young woman at the very back of the ship has spoken very little during the trip, unless directly addressed. Wearing a simple outfit of red silk with gold thread embroidery, she's a bit of an enigma. Woven into the outfit are what almost looks like silver dragon scales, the sun reflecting brightly off them. A dagger that appears to made of a dragon's fang hangs at her side. When asked, the young woman has given her name as Tara. She watches the warforged especially with significant interest, and you're pretty sure you've spotted her making notes on everything from the airship's elemental engine to the positions of the stars to the dragonmarks of any Marked on board (with full scale diagrams). Now, however, she is merely watching the other members of the airship go about their business.
Just so it's here in the thread too:
Tara's eyes move to the shifter as he speaks, and she turns her head slightly to look at the half-elf in the blue dress.
Stella Diamant, Human Rogue 17 (Swashbuckler), The Exploits of Misfit Company
Kat, Medtech, Cyberpunk: Red
Shi, Changeling Bard 4 (College of Spirits), Tyrant's Grasp
Dani, Human Artificer 9 (Armorer), Skulls and Starships
DM, Project Point (Teams Scimitar and Longsword)
Everything Else!
Salqwyn "Squall" d'Lyrandar
Reaching out to take your hand in greetings you can easily see what appears to be an odd tattoo wrapping her forearm. "Pleased to meet you Lucky. I am Salqwyn d'Lyrandar. As to plans I'm sure there will be some transport of people and goods. The real point though is diplomacy. What about you Lucky? What dreams do you have?"
The Minotaur gives a knowing nod to Salqwyn. Removing the dish rag hanging from his horn he twirls it in the air and the seemingly normal cloth springs to life as it begins to wipe down all the glasses. He gives a chuckle at the remarks about making the give the “Lyandar a run for their money”. He says in a deep bluesy voice “Wouldn’t be a first time, the Drackon’s did that. See they claimed the wreckage of this ship after the war and somehow managed to figure it out and get it back in order. Lyandar’s didn’t like that and sued, the brothers claimed salvage rights. They settle in out of court that the Lyandar’s get a forty percent cut from everything the Drackon’s earn from the ship..... and what to the dwarves do? They open a non-profit charity! HA!” As he continues to laugh. Without looking the rag floats back towards Moxley as he catches it and hangs it back up on his left horn.
Its a quiet day up in the clouds and you begin to hear the co-captains shouting orders around as a large thunderstorm gloom’s the horizon. They begin making adjustments and changing the course. Eventually the shouting stops until you see a dwarven figure in a bright and shiny blue dress robe that’s open and glory. The chest hair peaking out the V-neck, his hair fashioned into a top know and beard braided elaborately to his waist. Followed behind him is a pale skinned goblin carrying a clipboard and a feather, scribbling furiously as he goes and struggles to keep up. Adorned in a white silk parachute type pants, a brown vest and a white head wrapping. The dwarf approaches the bar and loudly proclaims “FOR THOSE WHO I HAVENT HAD THE PLEASURE OF MEETING, I AM WILLIAM DRACKON, WELCOME ABOARD! WE ARE PLEASED TO HAVE YOU WITH US, LLOKS LIKE TO BE SOME LIGHT WEATHER BY NIGHTFALL.... NOTHING TOO SERIOUS, CONTINUE ON ENJOYING YOUR FLIGHT!” With that he continues on shaking hands with the guests and giving a smile to the two at the bar. Giving a nod and a wink to the lady sitting quietly sitting in the back, patting the Warforged on the shoulder, And attempting to squeeze past the quiet elf on his way to a trap door below deck. Lespin the goblin continues to follow as he struggles.
Tara blinks as William winks at her, watching him pass for a moment before turning an intent gaze on the mark spreading across Squall's arms, quietly taking out a piece of paper and beginning to make notes, occasionally glancing up at the storm brewing with an utterly calm expression.
Stella Diamant, Human Rogue 17 (Swashbuckler), The Exploits of Misfit Company
Kat, Medtech, Cyberpunk: Red
Shi, Changeling Bard 4 (College of Spirits), Tyrant's Grasp
Dani, Human Artificer 9 (Armorer), Skulls and Starships
DM, Project Point (Teams Scimitar and Longsword)
Everything Else!
Virnen Palaris - Wood Elf Ranger
Breathing in the air and the thick scent of an oncoming storm, Virnen Palaris gazes around the deck at the motley of other travelers onboard the airship. Dressed in a fine leather armor set and a green cloak wrapped around his shoulders, Virnen awkwardly fidgets with the hilt of one of his Elven short swords concealed behind his cloak. His blonde hair is tied back in a bun and his bright green eyes fall upon the Warforged leaning against the wall. Against his better judgement and overcome with curiosity, he carefully pads over to approach the mechanical man. "Hello there! I'm sorry if I'm disturbing but I've never really left home and you're the first Warforged I've ever seen." He extends a slender arm for a handshake. "My name is Virnen Palaris. What's yours?"
Fortune's Founders - An Eberron Tale: Virnen Palaris, Wood Elf Ranger (2)
Taraki (Tara), Variant Human Knowledge Cleric 1
Tara's head swivels around at Virnen speaks, and her eyes widen. "War...forged..." she whispers softly. "Interesting."
OOC: If that text color is too light for anyone, I can change it lol
Stella Diamant, Human Rogue 17 (Swashbuckler), The Exploits of Misfit Company
Kat, Medtech, Cyberpunk: Red
Shi, Changeling Bard 4 (College of Spirits), Tyrant's Grasp
Dani, Human Artificer 9 (Armorer), Skulls and Starships
DM, Project Point (Teams Scimitar and Longsword)
Everything Else!
"Lucky" Dale, Shifter Bard
Diplomacy, Lucky repeats enthusiastically, Yes, peace between nations, and the advancement of one's own of course. Where did you say you were from? Now diplomacy must lead the way, since war is... well, no longer an option for civilised folks. I am very pleased to meet you, Ms. Salqwyn. And I would love to hear all about your diplomatic ambitions, somewhere a little quieter, and he gestures around the busy room.
For me, you could say that I'm already living my dream. Out to see the world, to meet new people, learn about their lives, maybe write a few paragraphs here and there. What could possibly be grander?
Salqwyn "Squall" d'Lyrandar / Half-elf Sorcerer - Perception to see Tara studying my arm : 15
Reference image for my 'tattoo'
"Excuse me for a moment Lucky." Rising easily from her seat the half-elf makes for the bow of the ship. Watching the crew work and looking to the storm. She studies the movement of the clouds and tries to get a feel for the direction of the storm and if the ship and crew will be able to avoid it.
Oh, no worries, I'm sure I'll catch you later, Lucky says easily. Then after the half-elf has gone, he mutters under his breath, Bet your life on it.
He scribbles in his notebook for a while, then looks up again, noticing the human noticing the warforged, and sits forward, attempting to listen in on any interesting conversations going on around him. Perception 10
Tara looks mildly disappointed as Squall departs, and abandons the half-sketched diagram of her Mark she was working on, folding it neatly away. She turns her full attention to the warforged and elf, considering whether to go over as she listens to their conversation.
Stella Diamant, Human Rogue 17 (Swashbuckler), The Exploits of Misfit Company
Kat, Medtech, Cyberpunk: Red
Shi, Changeling Bard 4 (College of Spirits), Tyrant's Grasp
Dani, Human Artificer 9 (Armorer), Skulls and Starships
DM, Project Point (Teams Scimitar and Longsword)
Everything Else!
Squall has noticed catching eyes with the woman in the back of the ship. As she moves towards the bow. The clouds are quite a ways in the distance. Barely visible to the eye, word must’ve come down from the crow’s nest about the storm. It’s too far out to tell what the ship is doing now would effect how it handles the storm, but she is assured in the fact that they will have plenty of time to navigate out of the way of the heart of the storm. Probably just a light shower. Other than that the ship would travel too far out of its way to make its ETA.
Lucky and Tara now shift their attention to the crowd and conversations, Especially the conversation between the warforged and Elf.
Salqwyn "Squall" d'Lyrandar / Half-elf Sorcerer
Reassured that the captains had everything under control and chiding herself for her doubt, however slight, in the ships crew just because it lacked one of her house among them. Salqwyn turns and heads back to join the rest of the passengers. Walking over she sits down next to the woman in the red dress. Holding her arm out to display the mark upon it. "Hello. I am Salqwyn d'Lyrandar. I couldn't help but notice you looking at my Mark. I take it, by your interest, you know what this is. And my name should confirm it as the Mark of Storm. In the future I would suggest you simply ask to see it. Those of us who wear them so openly are rarely touchy about discussing them with others."
Taraki (Tara): Variant Human Knowledge Cleric 1
Tara blinks as Salqwyn makes her way over and speaks. She blushes faintly. "I apologize if I offended you," she murmurs. "Yes, I know what it is...quite comprehensively, in fact. I do remember reading they were called Marks of Storm in that particular arrangement of lines. And your name, d'Lyrandar, means you are a member of House Lyrandar that manifested her Mark, yes?" She bites her lip. "Oh, name. I am Tara." She gives no surname, immediately moving on to her next train of thought. "I study dragonmarks, among other things," she explains. "Most people do not wish to stand still for a long period of time so I can diagram theirs, so I just do it from a distance."
Stella Diamant, Human Rogue 17 (Swashbuckler), The Exploits of Misfit Company
Kat, Medtech, Cyberpunk: Red
Shi, Changeling Bard 4 (College of Spirits), Tyrant's Grasp
Dani, Human Artificer 9 (Armorer), Skulls and Starships
DM, Project Point (Teams Scimitar and Longsword)
Everything Else!
Salqwyn "Squall" d'Lyrandar / Half-elf Sorcerer
Chuckling Salqwyn answers. "Apology accepted, though in truth I was not offended. I will admit I am not known for my ability to sit still, even for short amounts of time. But I do hope to ... demystify peoples views of the dragonmarks, and those who bear them. I am happy to let you study it and will gladly answer any questions you might have Tara. Do you have a mark?"
Jax - warforged artificer
"Greetings Virnen Palaris, I am called Jax" The warforged would reply as he takes hold of the wood elf's hand. "You must not have fought in the war if I am the first warforged you have encountered" Jax would add as his singular lens seemed to rotate and focus on Varnen's face before quickly looking him up and down. "Most elves I have encountered were on the battle field... either controlling powerful magics or weilding razor-sharp blades..." He would mention as he focused once more on Varnen's face. "Are you a Valenar by chance mr. Palaris?" The warforged would ask as his bucker-sheped head tilts downward ever-so-slightly as he looks towards the direction of the wood-elf's blades. The words of the warforged seemed to come from somewhere under the large lens on the front of Jax's face... or lack--there-of, and his movments were fairly rigid. He seemed to only move when absolutely necessary, almost to the point of looking as though he were actively trying to prevent any movement as his long leather jacket whipped around in the breeze.
(OOC: So at first I thought the GOLD was OK but now I do think it is kind of hard to read BooksBooks. If I am the only one that thinks that you can feel free to leave it though. )
Taraki (Tara): Variant Human Knowledge Cleric
Tara shakes her head. "Oh, no. I could not even imagine being such a part of the-part of such a bloodline," she corrects quickly. "I am not a member of any of the true Marked lines, and I have not manifested an aberrant mark." She takes out her half-finished diagram and continues working on it as she speaks, occasionally making notes on the sketch in a strange language (Draconic). "How did your Mark manifest?"
OOC: Not a problem Wreck, I'll change ;D
Stella Diamant, Human Rogue 17 (Swashbuckler), The Exploits of Misfit Company
Kat, Medtech, Cyberpunk: Red
Shi, Changeling Bard 4 (College of Spirits), Tyrant's Grasp
Dani, Human Artificer 9 (Armorer), Skulls and Starships
DM, Project Point (Teams Scimitar and Longsword)
Everything Else!