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[font=times][COLOR=DarkOrchid][center]A Duo RPG concerning myself and an aforementioned other.[/center]

[i]In far distant years, in a kingdom to the north and east, humans and elves lived and died under the reign of one High King and the arbitration of both gods and noble born men. The women that did not stay home and raise the children of their husbands, grew to be priestesses or Battle maidens, all following the Cult of the Moon Goddess. The men that did not fight in warbands or study to be preists and craftsmen, grew to be mecenaries that would sell their sword as well as their lives in some cases.

A human mercenary travelling the long road he called life, came by pure chance, upon a woman with a sword and an unknown blazon on her shield and gear. There was no tattoo of the Moon Goddess on her cheek, so she wasn't a preistess. There was no roundness to her pupils or ears, so she was definitely an elf. The woman rode a stallion, but instead of being a wild untamed beast, it obeyed her every whim. She smiled at him once as they passed on the king's road, but as he turned to look at her again, she had already vanished.

The next night, she appeared at the inn he was staying at, and smiled at him yet again.[/i]

Name: Luvilune ap Danena

Species: Elf

Class: Huntress; enchantress

Appearance: See attatchment. Heavily tanned, brown hair, golden eyes, roughly 5' 8" and 130 lbs.

Biography: A cipher to the mercenary, but showing up whenever he looked for her, and riding into the same battles as him, Luvilune will eventually see him alone, and tell him her business then. In the meantime, she appears and vanishes at her whim, marking her out as an enchantress sworn to some goddess or another. Anything more than that remains unknown.[/COLOR][/font]
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[color=crimson][b]Name[/b]: Tristan Crow.

[b]Species[/b]: Human.

[b]Class[/b]: Mercenary of many talents.

[b]Appearance[/b]: Is as attached. 6'2, average weight.

[b]Biography (Recent history)[/b]: Tristan hauled himself up onto the river shore, water pouring off of him as he rose up. A cacophony of shouts and screams came from behind him. He sat down and looked to the ship he had been on just a few minutes prior. The night was lit up from the flames that consumed it. Screams continued to come from it as the bandits continued their assault, the flames spreading as if alive with bloodlust. Tristan shook his head knowing well that traveling with such high-class persons along this route was asking for trouble. He had hoped to meet a future client, someone of some importance. Instead, he was watching a band of brigands waylaying them from afar. With a sigh he stood and walked away from the river, leaving the ship and it's occupants to whatever fate had in store for them. Only fools fight for free, after all. That and his weapons were sitting on a short distance away within the distressed ship. He knew that they were already in the possession of some uncouth figure by now. Another sigh escaped his lips before he disappeared into the thick foliage.

Tristan knew the surrounding area well enough to get to a road that lead to somewhere that had what he required- shelter, food and warmth. The Boar's Head Inn, to be precise. It was on route to his destination.. the latest conflict, a hotspot drawing in many of his profession. With little time to waste he continued down the road, disappearing into the night[/COLOR]
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