Honor & Sneak [Private RP]

[Zulma san]

When an honor bound soldier meets a sneaky rogue!

The year is 1509.

Years ago peace had been signed with Scotland, consolidated by a wedding between the Scottish crone and the British royal family. In the same time, a treaty had been signed with Rom and its Pope, bringing a wave of Christianity in the Kingdom. Schools were opening across the country, education was starting to have a minimum of importance and scholars were well received.

In a few words, England was at peace.

This is in this peaceful kingdom that a new King and a new Queen started their reins on England.

It is a time for changes and continuity.

It was a time for hope and fear.

+++++

But in the small town of Berwick-upon-Tweed, on the border between Scotland and England, the daily life is not so simple.
The little town, which a little more than two decades ago was Scottish, is now British. Torn between the two nations, it remains a unique mixture of both.

 

[Zulma san]

Character Profiles

[b]Name[/b]
[b]Age[/b]
[b]Profession[/b]

[b]Weapons of choice[/b]

[b]Mental description[/b]

[b]Physical description[/b]

[b]Biography[/b]

[b]Other Information[/b]

SNEAK

Name Edith MacGuire
Age: 27
Profession Rogue

Weapons of choice Knives of any variety under two feet.

Mental description

Physical description Edith stands 5'6", rather voluptuous in the hips with an eye for style and an even better one for what she wants. She has tanned skin and long, loosely-waved black hair tied back, dark eyes and a devilish smile.

Biography

Other Information

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HONOR

Name Murchadh Falcon
Age: 32
Profession Fisherman

Weapons of choice During the battle, he can easily swing a two hand sword or a battle axe. However in the civil, he does not like weapons and usually uses his fists if need be.

Mental description Murchadh is a very quiet and calm man, although he can get angry. He does not forgive easily. He believes in following the rules and laws of the clan and even of the new British ruler.

Physical description Blabla Murchadh is a tall, strong man by build but also due to his daily work at sea. He is 6 feet 3. A Scottish by birth, he inherited the fair skin, red hair and green eyes of his family. He even has freckles under the sun. He wears his shoulder length hair in a low pony tail. He has an anchor tattooed on his upper left arm.

BiographyMurchadh is the third son of the Falcon clan's leader. The eldest son Keith is a true warrior, loud and brutal, with no compassion. The second son Naomhan had all what his older brother lack and lacked the will to fight. He tought Murchadh not to hate, even the enemy and was killed in battle a couple of years ago. Murchadh fought in the war against the British and learned the wound of defeat when his little town became British.

The pride of his father commanded the clan to remain on their grounds until the British would leave. Years after peace as been signed the British are still there. Murchadh, as a third son, is to inherit nothing from his father and hence he used his love of the sea to earn a living. He is torn between his honor as a Scottish and his honor in the name of his dead brother and his wish for peace.

Other InformationAlthough at sea, Murchadh is fast and sure of himself, on the earth, he gets lost quite easily which annoys him a lot!  

[Zulma san]

~ Just in case XD ~

 

[Zulma san]

Murchadh looked up from the sea. The sky was getting darker. Not a good sign... he thought. Night was not before several hours so that meant a storm was coming. He looked at his net which had not caught much.

It should be enough...

His strong arms pulled back the net into the boat and he turned the small sail so that the wind would gently push him back to shore. The red hair man looked ahead. The Island was not that far, yet it seemed tiny.

From where he was, he could not see the trees losing their last leaves, the soil looking now dark and muddy. Winter was coming and soon he would be unable to come to fish. Yet he would try anyway. He always had.

It was because it was the end of November that Murchadh was worried about that storm. Sure the weather had been surprisingly hot, but so late in the season?

His green eyes scanned the water and the earth. If he used the wind properly, he would be safe on shore before the worst of the storm.  

[Gren_Eckener]

In the local pub, laughing loud and raucous, Edith stood with one leg raised on a table, leading the next round of song. "Everybody! And it's no, nay, never...no nay never no more! Well I've plaaaaayed Wild Rover, no never, no more!"

Laughing, her flagon was refilled by a grateful admirer, and she promptly quaffed it. Life was magnificent when she was flush, and everyone shared the wealth.

"Oi, Charlie! Another tune, this one's worn out!" she called to the bard.  

[Zulma san]

Winds were rising and the waters were getting rough, yet the man was grinning, a fact rare enough to be mentioned. With an expert hand he was leading his boat towards the safety of the port, using the roaring winds and the currents he was familiar with. The Scottish was truly enjoying himself. Being at sea was one of his only pleasure in life.

The darkness had almost entirely surrounded the little village in the distance and if it weren't for the lights coming from the sparse houses and the tiny lighthouse he would have been lost.

A gulf of wind brought him off the course he had planned but it did not seem to worry him at all.

"Some challenge..." he chuckled.

Nature versus man, he stirred the boat toward starboard.  

[Gren_Eckener]

Hearing the wind batter against the shutters outdoors, the woman snickered. It wasn't as if she was going to go anywhere that night anyhow. She sipped her brew, listening to a rendition of Finnegan's Wake with the recorder and concertina playing. She intended to stay the night and enjoy the fun.  

[Zulma san]

The coast was getting nearer and Murchadh roared of triumph. A short lived roar as rain started pouring and he was soaked wet in a matter of seconds. The roar turned to a mute curse, still he was smiling.

The red hair giant did not let the icy rain get to him, he stirred further his boat which at last was in the shaky shelter of the port's tiny natural dikes, which consisted on piles of rocks from the near by mountains. At that moment, he lowered his sail, using his paddles, still he had more speed than he should have. He managed to reach the pier without hitting it.

After a couple of minutes of battle, the boat was moored securely. It would go no where. And the fishes caught were also secured in a barrel he kept attached under the pier for those days when he could not head directly home after fishing.

And today was one of those days.

The closest best place for shelter was the Tavern and that was where he headed. The moment his feet touched the ground, he lost his smile. As if only the sea could make the giant grin happily.

He rushed to the Tavern and entered like the devil bringing wind and rain for a second before he slammed the door behind him. Saying that he was soaked was an euphemism...  

[Gren_Eckener]

As the door flew open, a gust of chilly wind came with the redhead, tousling Edith's hair. With a shudder, she glared at the intrusion. Grinning widely in good cheer, she toasted. "Hey, Sops! Shut the damn door and come have a drink!"  

[Zulma san]

Murchadh passed a hand in his hair squeezing out the water. The female call from across the Tavern had him look towards the voice. As he identified the woman, he wondered why he had even checked. There could only be one! He sighed and ostensibly turned his back to her, walking in the direction of the fireplace, although there was no fire burning, for it was too early in the season.

"Rowan!" he called the only waitress of the place. "A towel and a beer would you?"  

[Gren_Eckener]

She pouted, but ignored him, having plenty enough attention from the rest of the folks in the room. 'Shoulda known he was a buzzkill...always is.' she thought, sipping her lager, taking up the offer for a round of darts.  

[Zulma san]

Murchadh was served quickly. The Tavern being one of the last place in town where people remained partially under the old tradition and he was after all the third son of the clan chief.

"Thank you Rowan." said the red hair with a polite nod.

"Anytime..." answered Rowan who did not get more luck than Edith.

The giant dried his hair and neck with the towel but he was still dripping.

Rowan crossed the room passing next to Edith playing dart. "What an icicle..." she sighed.

Her remark was punctuated by a loud thunder quickly followed by lightening.

"I got lucky..." whispered Murchadh to himself.  

[Gren_Eckener]

Edith threw her dart and patted Rowan's shoulder. "Yeah, he's an icicle...he can't help it. But isn't there something charmin' about being given the cold shoulder, eh? Makes the guy more interesting!" she added, chucking her next dart. "Cork!"  

[Zulma san]

Rowan sighed, she was not entirely convinced. One of the older men in the crowd heard the waitress and called. "How can you think about him when you have me!" Laughter bubbled around him and Rowan shook her head.

Murchadh sat in his usual corner, watching over the drunkards and other guests with an equal gaze.

The door opened again to another tall figure, this one hooded. The door closed and Keith removed his cape, revealing himself fully dry. He spotted his brother and burst into a loud laugh.

"Looks like you have drown rats here!"

Keith's usual public echoed his laughter.  

[Gren_Eckener]

Edith laughed loudly. "As if you've got a chance, Daniel!" she shouted, starting a fresh round of darts. "I can lick any idiot at this game,,!"