Einar (Sword) on RolePlayer.me - www.roleplayer.me/Samuel

AU The Original Legacies RPG | Literate Multi-NovellaPluie De Sanghttps://www.roleplayer.me/1457461

When Hope Mikaelsonâ€™s world came crashing to an end, she had a decision to make. Would the young Mikaelson continue hiding behind the Marshall name and accept defeat? Or would she make the choice to take fate into her hands and build it back up? Sometimes when weâ€™re ready to leave a legacy behind us, that legacy isnâ€™t ready to be left yet. Follow our story as Hope chooses to wear her name proudly and put her life back together piece by piece with the help of the Saltzman twins.
Itâ€™s been just over a year since Niklaus & Elijah passed and the vampires vacated New Orleans. Hope â€œMarshallâ€ has been living with the Saltzman family in Mystic Falls where anyone supernatural knows so-called bad ideas breed like wildfire. The girls have spent their time researching bringing the loved ones theyâ€™ve lost back from the ancestral plane and they know just what theyâ€™ve got to do. Itâ€™s going to require making a deal with the hollow and bringing back the very evil Hopeâ€™s family fought to get rid of. The moral dilemma here is do you bring someone back from the dead when they sacrificed themselves to save your life?
In Hopeâ€™s mind, the answer is yes. Upon Hopeâ€™s return to New Orleans for an end of summer celebration, sheâ€™ll bring Josie and Lizzie along for the trip to set their plan in motion. They say that when you make a deal with the devil itâ€™s bound to fail somehow, but these girls have a trick up their sleeve. Theyâ€™ve moved the hollow before and theyâ€™ll do it again before it can get a hold on Hope again.

"I didn't think it was such a big deal at the time. But now that it's stirred up so much trouble I kinda feel bad."

When youâ€™re going against a hollow that had over 1500 years to plot against all of those whoâ€™d turned their backs on her, youâ€™re going to be out smarted. The girls themselves were a little too open ended when they requested she bring all of their family members back. Just as planned Niklaus, Elijah, Hayley, Finn, Josette, Olivia and Lucas were brought back immediately. What the girls did not know is that the hollow also brought back the others, the ones she felt would be useful for revenge.
As promised the girls placed the hollow into the body of an original sibling, Finn. However before Hope or Lizzie could dagger him he managed to not only steal the dagger, but to vanish into a cloud of dust. With the hollow having Esther, Mikael, Dahlia, Kai and Katherine on her side itâ€™s just a matter of time before they come for their moment. Now the girls must deal with the wrath of their families for going behind their backs as they prepare for the biggest problems any of them have ever dealt with.

"I only ask that you remember the oath of loyalty you once swore to me. Always & forever."Come join us, won't you?https://www.roleplayer.me/1457461

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And this one...........Well its especially for YOU!Â

Alex LeBeau/936878

He had listened to her warning and they both had taken off quickly, sprinting down the sidewalk. Surprisingly, or maybe not so, Alexandria was proving to be very swift and agile in her stiletto heels. Hearing him state they needed to find someplace crowded or empty, her mind swirled with the different locations she was familiar with here in New York City. She didn't want to reveal her full power set to him, not yet. She wasn't even quite certain she could trust him fully, but if her mother trusted him then she believed she could too. However, trusting people had always been one of Alex's downfalls; one that she's never broken from. Was it her fault she always tried to see the best in people first?

"This way!" She spoke hurriedly, darting to the right and down another street. Like Einar, she was not winded in the slightest. "I can't explain it, I just felt like...something's out there, stalking us." Dodging the pedestrians on the sidewalk, she made another right into an alleyway. She hadn't gotten very far when one of her stiletto heels caught in a gap in the pavement. A crack echoed through the alleyway, signifying her ankle broke. A yell of pain escaped her and she fell, sprawling out upon the pavement, but her hands managing to keep herself from hitting her head. "Sonofabitch!" An almost southern sounding accent graced the curse that came from her. Being raised by self-proclaimed redneck, Bobby Singer, meant she had picked up his accent, since she'd grown up in his care. Course, the curses were learned more from Dean than anyone else. It wasn't like hiding their foul language had been something they had focused, not in their line of work.

Rolling onto her side, she yanked her leg toward her, unshed tears brimming in her eyes. Unlike her mother, she didn't heal instantly from wounds, though she still healed faster than a human. This broken ankle, considering the bone was noticeable pressing against the underside of her skin, would take a week or two to fully heal, unless she allowed herself to shift forms. If she did that, she'd heal but then every single person in the vicinity would be in danger: Lady Death did not discriminate. Sapphire blues lifted to him, worry shining. What was he going to do now? Not only was she at the mercy of whatever was stalking them, she was at his mercy too.

"My mother is the Director of SWORD," she blurted out quickly, "she told me about you, that's how I know your name. She said I should meet you; that we'd probably get along." Inhaling deeply, she winced as she tried to move her foot, crying out gently. "I just never thought it would turn out quite like this. I'm sorry, I should have said something sooner. There was...there was just no more time to do so!"

Alex LeBeau/936878

"That was very nice of you. You could have put that kid on a continued path of problems but instead you tried to fix it. Shows a kind soul within you unlike most." Hearing the deep voice, Alexandria turned around, swinging her bag back up onto her shoulder. Sapphire hues fell upon the man in question, quickly sizing him as she was prone to do upon meeting new people. However, while she had never met this man personally, she knew of him. Being her mother is the Director of SWORD, she knew the names and faces of the people who work for her, or who have/had worked alongside her. She stayed quiet, knowing what was coming and, sure enough, just like clockwork... "Hey...You're...Names right on the tip of my tongue." Lips pursed a moment then a gentle smile formed, with her nodding. Easily recognizable, that was her. "My name is Henry. Sorry I didn't mean to just come up to you.. Just wanted to compliment you on your choice there.. I'll be going now.."

He took a step back and she raised a brow. Arms crossed under her bosom, head lifting a bit in curiosity. "You know, you're a good liar." The first words she finally uttered. But, she didn't appreciate being lied to, in fact it was one thing she abhored. No, she hadn't seen through his lie, but she has seen his photograph and listened to her mother state she should meet him sometime. Arms fell from their position, with one hand gently holding the strap of her bag. Her smile changed to one of slight annoyance, "you must really distrust people, not to tell them your true name, Einar..."

With a subtle scoff, she turned on her heel and started in the direction she'd initially been going. Now, why had she called him out on his name? Well, the next move was his. Was he going to follow her and try to figure out how she knew his name? Or was he simply going to let the famous fashion model go? Surely, he would likely see her, a stranger, knowing his name as a threat. Her goal was to get him to follow her: get away from the crowded street and speak in private. However, an uneasy feeling crept over her. High heels ceased in their forward momentum, sapphire hues narrowing as she gazed around. In the back of her mind, she could feel Lady Death growing restless: a warning something was about to happen. Eyes continued darting around, the feeling of invisible fingers trailing down her spine making her roll her shoulders to make it cease. Everything within her was screaming at her to run. Yet, she didn't budge...not yet.

A glance was given to the very man who had introduced himself with the false name. Eyes darted to the onyx orb then back to the man's face. 'Protect the orb,' repeated in her mind. Why or how, she didn't know, nor care. Darting toward him, she grabbed his arm, eyes attempting to emphasize what she was about to say. "You don't know me. You don't have reason to trust me but...we need to go. Now." Shoulders rose and fell; the hairs on the back of her neck beginning to rise. "Look, if you trust Kendra, you can trust me." If her subtle warning didn't work, maybe her mentioning the Director of SWORD would. With a nod, she motioned they needed to go...quickly.

Ferra knew that she would have to play a pretty proposal in her lips to keep this man interested. But she seemed less tense, now that she realized he wasn't particularly going to spread word of her intentions to the slavers. His sense of respect for her mission also inspired her lack of anxiousness. He wants to fight. she knew, and it would seem he wants his fighting to not go unacquainted with good cause. When he was done speaking and had joined her at the table, she took a moment as she watched him gently. She was curious as to where in the bloody gods he did come from. She'd not seen his like before and he intrigued her. He's from bloody YiTi she decided and nodded to herself. She reached into her bosom and slipped out a medallion that hung from a chain around her neck. It was bronze with a single imprint of a hand—the thumb was crossed over whilst the other four were spiked to the heavens. She lifted it and let it dangle as she leaned forward.

"This is the medallion of the First Captain's Ship in Braavos." She began and let it fall back against her chest. "I earned it by making sure my campaigns are well met." Though he has put me in a tight spot. she realized. Ensuring that the slaves are not re-enslaved is the biggest battle I've yet to win… She sat back again and pondered for a moment.

"Support is how I will ensure that this civil war is achieved in our favor. I've yet to build more support, but it does start with you." She glanced at him gently. "I am in favor by the Iron Bank. Payment to you will be no challenge - but I have yet to approach the Second Sons to re-elect them into our cause. I will have to sign an expensive contract with them. I've had support from Dorne as well - as they have been helping secure their coasts from slave smugglers. My own fleet is strong, but the slavers fleet is stronger still. I cannot ensure you just yet that I can eliminate slavery for good. But I will tell you this… I will die trying. I will kill as many bloody f***ing slavers before I am dead and in the ground.

Any man that is a monster {CAN BE TAMED} ———WITH A FINE PRICE OF RICHES AND GOLD

In waiting, Ferra felt the cold of yawning as iron bars cascaded the room further down the hallway. It was a place of slavery and her discomfort was overwhelming. If this man does not accept my offer, and choose to feed me to the slavers - I will at least put up a fight they'll not soon forget. She only hoped that this champion would see her cause as just and join her campain willingly. And when he made his presence, Ferra observed him cautiously. Her eyes were calm while tracing them over his massive build. He was a beast, no doubt - but he also looked like he wanted to be here. That was not a good sign. She didn't express her nervousness, but instead - leaned back in her chair and motioned her hand to the chair across from her, in invitation to join.

"You are quite impressive." Ferra started with a sideways smirk. She then leaned forward as if to express a secret as her eyes shifted to the guards sentry - and when they closed the doors, she glanced back at Einar. "Your skill in the arena is unlike anything I've ever seen. Fighting is in your blood, violence - your art." She wanted to praise him as best she could. "But," She paused and granted him a sincere stare. "You're a slave, are you not?" She'd dive into this slowly. Rushing never does any good for anyone. "I have a proposition for you. I want to extend a campaign to you. A secret campaign that will help in my cause. Or…" She paused, "If you're in fact not a slave, and you're interests lie more in a high price - I can pay you well if you decide to join me." She hunched over the table. "But if you are to be a sellsword, you will have to apply a sense of propaganda, and play the part to inspire slaves to follow." He could kill me in one strike. she knew, but she remained proud and calm, wondering what his thoughts were. "And, no." She began - "I am not here to request you to fight in the pits for entertainment in Astapor."

Yours' is coming shortly. ♥

Any man that is a monster {CAN BE TAMED} ———WITH A FINE PRICE OF RICHES AND GOLD

A roasted scorpion was shoved in front of Ferra's face as a young boy twisted it on a skewer in attempt to catch a customer, but Ferra dismissed the boy and kept her eyes pinned on the arena. The smell of it grieved her slightly - but she kept composure while she waited for this champion to display his attributes. The crowd cheered for him, she realized and was eager to see if this man could in fact help her put an end to this ridiculous sport. She hunched over, resting her chin on the tops of her hands. Though, as the battle began—Ferra sat upright as his opponents were introduced - a Dothraki screamer and a Mereenesi slave. It would have been challenge enough for one, but this man was fitted against two seasoned warriors. He must be an animal. she realized. She remembered how Arro took on his opponents when first she came to see him fight in the pits…

The sands shimmered gold under a mourning sun as it descended upon the outer rim of Daznak's Pit. Red splashed the sky and auburn burnt the clouds that remained. Dusk was at hand, and the last spectacle kept the arena silent, as on lookers awaited the opponents to enter the pit. Ferra had enough, her stomach was churned and weakened. Her father often brought her to the fighting pits during his secretive meetings with Illyrio Mopatis. He made her watch, and he made her feel. This is what you're fighting for. This is what we must end. She remembered the three boys, the ones the masters put against a black bear from the North. The first boy, they rolled in honey, the second in goat's blood and the third was dipped in fish slop. And when there were wagers placed on the boys, Ferra wanted nothing more than to leap into the arena and put a knife through the bear's heart as it slaughtered the slave children. She felt her father nudge her to pay attention. Walking central of the pit, a bronze man—tall and brawny found the heart of the pit. He wore a spiked helm of rusted steel and boiled leather arm guards. Most of him was bare, and scars littered his back and legs and abdomen. That is Arro Zhan Zio. He's been in the pits since childhood. Her father had told her. He's a legend of Daznak's Pit, and today if he wins - he will become employed as captain of the Essox , the brute slaver's galley. Ferra watched as a smile gleamed on Arro Zhan Zio's face. She realized though - he was not boosting his champion. He, in a sense was about to win his freedom. You, Ferra - will make a deal with him, if he is successful… She remembered Arro, as he turned and soaked in the cheers and chants of the crowd. And when he gazed upon her, he pointed his rusted sword at her and gave a long curtsey…

The crowd had been going wild for this man, and Ferra felt a bit of cheer as well. She watched him, the way he twirled his sword in preparation was swift and almost artistic. It reminded her of the way she valued the sword and the language it spoke. Opposite to his entry, steel bars opened up and in ran a wolf - large and black and hungry. The crowd cheered even louder and Ferra had to stand to catch sight. The wolf was large, she noted. Not a mere woodswolf, but a beast from the Dothraki Sea. It's head was as big as the man himself and it was quick as it charged him. Arro was quicker though and dove from its path and he cut the beast in passing. The wolf cried, but anger ensued and the wolf turned and caught Arro's leg in its maw. Ferra gripped Cat's Paw at her side instinctually. Arro, though was not so easily made prey and he kicked the beast away and brought his sword down into its skull. The wolf thrashed and snarled as it died, but the steel bars opened and released another opponent. Arro was quick to his feet. He was unable to pull his sword from the wolf in time as a champion on a blood red mount charged him. Arro lept from the horse's hooves, and the champion revered back and charged again. Arro grabbed a handful of sand. He charged towards the champion and threw the sand in his mount's eyes. The horse gave a violent cry and reared, sending the man into the air. Arro was ontop of him, before he even hit the ground. They fought on the ground for a moment, sending swirls of sand and dust into a could above them. As the golden cloud dispersed, Ferra could see Arro atop his opponent, digging his thumbs into his eyes. Blood began to spit up and dapple Arro's face as the champion thrashed and cried beneath him.

When the thrashing ended, Arro rose with strain, his breath was harbored. Even still, the steel bars opened yet again and released three armored men. The ran at him. Arro plucked the steel double edged sword from the dead champion and met them with a brisk turn. His sword clashed with the first, and he kicked him away, then turned and brought the sword down onto the second man's arm. It was a clean cut and the arm flew into the sand as the man fell to his knees and cried. The third man was on Arro with a hunting net, but failed to capture him. Arro swiped the net away and charged him. He threw the sword at the man's chest and slammed his head into the opponent's helm, knocking him backwards unto the ground. Arro's brow glistened with blood, but that hardly stopped him. He reached down and gripped the opponent's throat and ripped out his jugular and roared like some kind of animal. The two that he'd left behind ran at him from behind. Arro ripped the sword from the dead one's chest and matched their charge. Ferra remembered how strong he was, like some lion and how blood belonged on him. He'd been a beast in battle, but that was not how Ferra remembered him…

Ferra realized that she had failed Arro - and now she was back to finish what they had started together. She hoped this man would be the one to make it happen. Though as she watched, Ferra realized that this man was astonishing. He made short work of both of his opponents, and the way he roared after he'd crushed the men into dust sent a chill down her spine. She was stiff in her seat - watching his every move and realized that he didn't seem like an ordinary man. Ferra was the boldest woman to sail the Narrow Sea, and she at this moment felt a bit overwhelmed by what she'd just seen. He could snap her in two if he wanted too. Gods, he could escape this place if ever he pleased. What the f*** does a man with strength like him stay in a place like this for? She grew a bit curious. This man didn't need to be freed. Perhaps he was there on his own terms, enjoying the bloodshed. He would make a very unfortunate enemy if that is the case. I might have to buy him - lure him into my own cause.

"What do you think?" Willas began as he nudged Ferra.

"I think he's a bloody animal." She sighed softly. "He's nothing like Arro was, but everything we need." Ferra glanced at Einar in the arena for a moment more, pondering. She'd have to be carefull. If she requested an audience with him, and he in fact opposed her cause - he'd be sure to point her out to the slavers. Unless I kill him. But after seeing what he was capable of, she knew those chances were slim. Gods, be good - he's going to be a f***ing expensive investment if he does not come willingly… She chewed her bottom lip and then glanced at Willas. "He might be a monster." She noted, "but any man that's a monster can be tamed with fine riches and gold." She pushed herself up and braved what was to come…

When she approached the Blood cells, Ferra was stopped short by the guards standing sentry. She continued her proud stare as she eyed them coldly. "I wish to speak with the champion of Draznak's Pit." She insisted as she held up a forged contract from Astapor. "I've come to deliver a message to him in regards to an opportunity for competition in the Serpants' Womb. The masters of Astapor want to put him against a manticore and others. You wouldn't deny the grand masters of coin a chance for a fine spectacle?" When the guards glanced at eachother, she could not help but grin to herself - and they let her pass. One, however joined her and escorted her into a room where she would wait on Einar to arrive…

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