Author Topic: The Tales of Nemean JeVondair Renodin  (Read 6717 times)

Renodin

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The Tales of Nemean JeVondair Renodin
« Topic Start: June 05, 2019, 09:13:44 PM »

Hey there!

In this thread I'll be collecting as best as I can the various Roleplays that are written by, for and involve Nemean JeVondair Renodin. The Son of Asher Renodin and Ayden JeVondair. Grandson of Aldrakar Renodin.

Green eyes, Dark Blond hair, Average height, Athletic build.

Nemean was borne under questionable circumstances. Ayden and Asher had their own long and complex stories. One of its results is this Character. Originally imagined and fleshed out by the player of the JeVondair Family but given onto me to play as a character.



For all those pieces that I will gather here that aren't written by me I express gratitude. Without them Nemean would never be nor become I imagine, the character he is and might be. Please consider them as you read these stories. Only some are mine but most likely most are the stories that other people created and all credit goes to them.


Renodin

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Re: The Tales of Nemean JeVondair Renodin
« Reply #1: June 05, 2019, 09:14:55 PM »

Character description - First rendition
Aged 17



Quote
The Son of Asher, former King of Perdan and Ayden JeVondair, Duchess of Blades.

A blend of the Brunette known as the Sable Jaguar and the Radiant blue eyes of a Monarch. His body has the shape of a well formed athlete. Resplendent with well proportioned muscles, chiseled by countless hours of training and in possession of a fair complexion only mildly touched by the sun.

The crown of hair that inhabits his head is of a warm, dark-blond hue. The orbs that constitute his eyes have taken a shade off of the gemstone known as Emerald.


Renodin

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Re: The Tales of Nemean JeVondair Renodin
« Reply #2: June 05, 2019, 09:16:25 PM »

Roleplay from Selenia JeVondair


THE SON OF BLADES

Selenia quietly, calmly folder the Redwing banner, placing it in an oak chest in her quarters in the Palace of Oligarch. The former Xerarch was still covered in the dirt of the road, armor splashed with patterns of mud and darker substances that could only be guessed at. She hadn’t even had time to enjoy one of the cities’ famous baths. There were bandits all the way from old Alara roaming in Commonyr and beyond, within site of Oligarch’s very walls.

The very nearness of the enemy, to say nothing of the loss of her crown and the reasons that had to be so, moved her to action. Strife always moved Selenia to action.

“Summon my sons” She said aloud and to no one in particular. The sudden, frantic pattering of booted feet informed her that she was being obeyed. She waited, staring out the window towards Commonyr wear raiders were no doubt looting tax offices only to find that she’d had them all emptied scant hours before, having foreseen their move. Their audacity irritated her ferociously, and she lost herself in her brooding until a polite knock at the door sounded and her sons entered the Room.

HOGNI OF HOUE JEVONDAIR. NEMEAN OF HOUSE JEVONDAIR. A liveried footman announced as the two young men were ushered into the room. Selenia did her best not to role her eyes. It wasn’t as if everyone in Redhaven didn’t know these two, much less her of all people. Despite years of practice, she failed, prompting a low snicker from one of the boys as the door closed behind their advance.

The offender was her eldest, Hogni, the older and larger of the two. His smile was broad, despite appearing just as tired and dirty as she. It had been a hard ride getting the Fearless to Oligarch so quickly. The entire Sygardian ARMY had appeared in Greatbridge as if to ambush them, but thankfully Selenia had the foresight to scout ahead, allowing them all to circumvent the trap by adding a LOT of miles to the trip. She stuck out her tongue at him, brushing his apologetic hug aside in mock pique as she focused on the youngest member of her family.

Nemean JeVondair, or more properly Nemean JeVondair Renodin, was her son in name only. He was technically her ward, as his mother Ayden had been. In actuality, he would be closer in stature to a grandson of the once-Xerarch, but the magic infusing the Phoenix Queen’s body had kept her appearing as though locked in her thirties. He couldn’t very well go around calling her Grandmother, but Aunt? Aunt Selenia could stomach.

As Hogni protested in a tone that mocked his mother’s mockery of him, she planted a calloused hand in his face and pushed, rocking him back on his heels and deftly avoiding the obvious bite he snapped her way. It was an old dance between the two, and Nemean had taken a period to get used to the fact the Selenia was nothing at all like he’d expected as a boy listening to stories at his mother’s knee. Selenia’s face grew sad as she thought about the Duchess of Blades, the child of war she’d adopted and raised as her own, only to bury her after she fell in battle years before. When Selenia looked at Nemean’s face, she saw the features of both his parents, and she grew sadder still, the burden of loss and re direct responsibility for it weighing heavily upon her.

“Come here, lad.” She ordered. He did so. Like his brother, he was dirty from the road. He wrinkled his nose at her, finally comfortable enough to poke a little fun of his own, and she pushed the heel of her hand on the top of his head in gentle reproach. “Your no bed of roses yourself, you know. Teenage boys are the direct product of the gods below who seek to frought the goodly peoples with your stench alone.” That got a smile from both of them. She allowed hers to grow before it faded again as she considered her next words.

“Ever since you could cry, you’ve been your mother’s child. But ever since you could walk, you’ve been mine.” Selenia said as her voice took on the tone of Edict, the tone of a Queen. “I have cared for you, instructed you in the ways of war craft and state craft alike. You have been my squire through several major battles, victories and defeats both. You have seen what it is I expect of the nobles sworn to me, sworn to Xavax and the ideals, traditions, and aye memories that bind us to this war. You have seen it. You have lived it. And now, my boy, I believe it is time for you to join it.

Nemean’s pupils grew wide and his mouth gaped with understanding as he shot an accusing glance at Hogni, who simply shrugged his own ignorance and smiled as if to say this was none of MY doing. Nemean’s eyes snapped back to Selenia at the hiss of drawing steel. Selenia’s kukris, her weapons of choice winked sunlight at him as she moved to lay one on either shoulder. He knelt.

“I am sorry, my lad. You are young, perhaps too young. But I need you. We need you. And before you ask, no, Hogni is not being knighted today. He must remain close to me, to take up my sword and banner should I fall. His destiny is not yet come. Yours, however, is. So I want you to hear me now, and remember my words well:

“For the blood of my countrymen, I will give of my own and take of our enemies.

By the strength of my hands will greatness be wrought.

For the honor of my family, I will not break faith

By the blades of my forebears, I will fight.”

She spoke. He repeated, and the boy seemed now more man than ever as she used her blades to nick light cuts on either of his cheekbones. Cuts that bled, but would heel well and hardly scar. Selenia had never done this before, not for anyone, and the import thereof was not lossed on either of them.

“I stand and do bare witness” Hogni said solemnly into the silence after Nemean had finished repeating the Oath.

“I stand and do bare witness” Selenia replied to him, though her eyes never left Nemean. “Rise now, Knight of Redhaven. Rise and learn, Rise and fight. Never stop rising, and never ever forget the Xavax blood spilled to bring you to this moment.”

And with that, the newest knight of the combined realm of Eponllyn and Redhaven was made his entry into the greater world.

Renodin

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Re: The Tales of Nemean JeVondair Renodin
« Reply #3: June 05, 2019, 09:18:08 PM »


Two Cuts
 

Quote
“For the blood of my countrymen, I will give of my own and take of our enemies.

By the strength of my hands will greatness be wrought.

For the honor of my family, I will not break faith

By the blades of my forebears, I will fight.”


The words scantly had left his lips as the blades of the Xerarch, drenched in the full rays of the sun, swiped across his face in rapid succession. One crimson line on his left cheek and another on the right. The dual kiss of steel bit. Akin to a viper's poisonous touch. Where the sensation of ice turned to fire in an instance.

He tried not to show it, but it hurt. his face a mask of cast bronze. But it bled.

Quote
“I stand and do bare witness” Hogni said solemnly into the silence after Nemean had finished repeating the Oath.

The words he heard and they sank deep into his being. Far did they cascade down the flows and falls that pooled in a depth known as resolve. The mask of his face moved, turning slowly to his childhood brother. Hogni. The elder of the two, taught by the Xerarch herself. Eyes met and Nemean winked. Waiting of course until Selenia couldn't see that half of his face anymore.

Quote
“I stand and do bare witness” Selenia replied to him, though her eyes never left Nemean. “Rise now, Knight of Redhaven. Rise and learn, Rise and fight. Never stop rising, and never ever forget the Xavax blood spilled to bring you to this moment.”

The mask's gaze returned to Selenia. A fat droplet of blood having ran half the course of his face and now dangled precipitously from his chin. ''Wings unfurled, the banner crimson now my standard to rally.'' His face turned towards the ground and beheld it solemnly like he was reading sacred texts. After some time had passed, Nemean rose to his feet. Made a careful bow and left the Xerarch of his childhood and stepped out into the world of his Xerach, an Adult.

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Re: The Tales of Nemean JeVondair Renodin
« Reply #4: June 05, 2019, 09:18:49 PM »

Roleplay from Andross Blint


The Torn Blade

The Duke of Blades leaned against a pillar in the palace of Oligarch, watching as Hogni and Nemean exited from Selenia's chambers. The boys were alight with fire and passion. Pride swelled in their chests as they tried to contain their excitement. The twin cuts on Nemean's cheeks was an indication for what had transpired behind closed doors. Hogni turned at the last moment and waved to Andross, Andross grinned and winked at the boy. He'd always been fond of the young lad, though he hadn't had the chance to interact with him nearly as much as he'd have liked, but such were the tribulations of war. He watched the boys disappear around a corner. Skia, his direwolf, lay at his feet, lounging in the sun that poured through the window.

He caught the scent of horses, leather, oil, and the faintest iron of blood as much as heard the Xerarch approach, he waited a moment, just long enough for the thought that he might not kneel to flicker, before he turned knelt, and said "My Queen." He looked up at Selenia and suppressed a smile as he watched the thoughts flicker across her face. She considered reminding the Duke she was no longer Queen - not since they had both moved their duchies to Eponllyn - but the realization that Andross hadn't made a mistake replaced her first instinct - which was replaced by the final realization that she was dealing with a Blint, and she knew first-hand, and all to well, how stubborn and head-ache inducing Blint's could be. Skia, had likewise, dipped her head to the floor in a show of respect for the Xerarch. Andross rolled his eyes at her and muttered "Show-off." Skia was then, predictably, rewarded with ample head rubs and scratches behind the ear.

Selenia bade Andross rise and they stood together, as friends, not as liege and vassal. A moment passed before Selenia said "You're not as guarded as you think, speak, my Duke of Blades." Her voice commanded authority and something about it made Andross want to want to respond, but her voice wasn't all command, it was gentle and coaxing. He leaned against the pillar again, Skia returning to him and he dropped a hand and rubbed the top of her head.

"He is her son, and I love him for it. I always will. I - I would have - " Andross struggled with the words. It was one of the things he missed the most about Ayden - the lack of a need for words. The two of them were never as in sync, never as in touch with one another, as they were when fighting side-by-side. Selenia waited, patiently for Andross to find the words and the courage to say them. Andross sighed, and said "Everyday he looks less and less like her, and more and more like.. his father." Andross practically spit the final word as if it was comprised entirely of venom. He looked at Selenia, tears brimming in his eyes, and she took his arm, and the two walked together. It was one of the most tender things Andross had ever witnessed her doing.

"Love him for her, not for who his father is. I know you love her, and she loved you, Andross, in her own way, and that boy is going to have one hell of a time as a knight of the Redwing, he'll need your guidance, as much as you can give to him.." Andross's face hardened, he stood a little straighter and a little taller. Selenia smiled - the man she had chosen as her Duke of Blades was back.

He nodded, and said "Thank you." She smiled at him and he bowed his head and started to leave. He turned back to her and said "She hasn't been avenged yet, and they are going to wish they never touched a hair on her head." Selenia nodded to him and said "Good."

Renodin

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Re: The Tales of Nemean JeVondair Renodin
« Reply #5: June 05, 2019, 09:20:11 PM »

Roleplay from Mara Aurelius



As the Aurelius Dragons were marching to Meuse, a female rider with worn leather armor rode ahead of the archers to the one that was leading them. Mara could be seen wearing her normal black travel cloak. If someone can see past her scowl and eyepatch, they can see her beauty. Even now only two people really knows what happened to her eye; Mara, and the one that's not here today.

Captain Margarita read Mara the letter as she has done for thousands of letters before.

"Dame Mara," Margarita gritted her teeth. Anyone within a mile could feel the flames burning in her eyes.

" 'That bit about slaying lions, was that a threat at me? Or even the Xerarch?
If it is, know that I stand ready to defend my honor!' "

Margarita couldn't help but chuckle as she read that line.

" 'Wings unfurled,

Sir Nemean JeVondair Renodin
Knight of Oligarch' "

Margarita took a deep breath. Mara shook her head knowing what her loyal subject was feeling but couldn't wait to hear what crazy thoughts were building up. Her loyal subject was only able to speak freely when no one else was around and for good reason. Humor of this nature is not appropriate almost anywhere. Calm and collected, the captain spoke the words that were on her mind.

"My queen, he is only young and probably doesn't know what love is yet. Please take your sword and break it for him. I want to lick the tears from his eyes when the blood spouts from his chest."

Mara had quite the smile on her face and found it hard not to laugh. Margarita's father was a master smith and Mara is convinced that not only did he sell his soul to produce the highest quality weapons, he also sold his daughter to the daimon that gave him his gift. How else could she say something so brutal unashamed?

Margarita smiled. It was not often her queen felt joy and she was glad to give it to her. But disappointment soon took over.

"You're not going to kill him, are you?"

"No."

"Aww. You always say that. It's been too long since you properly killed someone. You do it so elegantly. The best part is when your victims cry and beg you for mercy. Setting the helmsman on fire and burning up the ship was fun but that was almost a year ago. Today most people just get their head chopped off which looks quick and painless. Too boring. But you can't let him get away with it. Soon everyone else will be doing the same."

"The half wit is not worth my time. Write to him if you must."

"And how about a warning to the others?" Margarita insisted.

Mara gave in. The captain would keep pestering her about it if she didn't.

"Fine. Just don't write my--."

"You're honest opinion, I know." Margarita has been writing almost all the letters for her queen over the years. She would have preferred a gruesome killing but at least writing some letters aren't as dull as most.

"My lady." Margarita excused herself and rode off to find a suitable spot to write.

Mara rode on. She wasn't too sure what Margarita would write but trusted her enough to let her go.

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Re: The Tales of Nemean JeVondair Renodin
« Reply #6: June 05, 2019, 09:20:53 PM »



The parchment is fresh. Newly bought yet crumpled and smoothed over again.
 

Quote
Arbiter,

Godric,

My mother was a Huntress. All needed saving from her. A Lady of Blades, all around her death crept into the shadows she cast. Why would any gods feel the need to save her? She prayed to no gods other than the steel in her hands. I know I am borne from a slayer of man. That and a father who wore crowns as easily as he wore masks.

I've heard the stories of my parents. The Xerarch herself shared them with me. She would not leave anything out. She prepared me for this life when my mother died and my father abandoned me. Why would you want to meet me? The lives and deaths of my parents not enough for you? Your gods require more ''Great Blood''?

Explain yourself! Why peddle divination and mysteries at me. If you know anything Scholar, tell me! Tell me or go back to your dusty books!


There is a fat line scratched into the parchment. A rash and sudden addition to the writing if you'd label it such. Strangely enough, the letter was not finished yet it was send still.

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Re: The Tales of Nemean JeVondair Renodin
« Reply #7: June 05, 2019, 09:22:46 PM »


A carefully bound package arrives. Inside the wrappings of leather you discover a small casket. Not larger than a medium sized hare. Inside you find a neatly folded parchment laying on a bed of straw.
 

Quote
Esteemed Arbiter Godric,

The angry letter from Nemean was send by me and not by the young Lion himself.

I'd like to call him that for his paternal blood is of Lions while his mothers blood is that of the JeVondairs now. Both lions you see. My name is of little import I am sure but I shall offer it nonetheless. It is Berenger de Moustiers. I take on the literary tasks for the young master. Arrange his staff and more such matters but I digress.

When I learned of your interest in the young Master I decided that -that- would be a good thing. As such I've subtly offer praise and kind gesture in whichever way I might've been able. He has much to learn from men such as yourself. Your knowledge of custom, law, history. To name but a few aspects I greatly admire, are invaluable in my estimation.

As I filed away his correspondence with you, a task I loath to hand off to lesser qualified personnel, I noticed how you mentioned the young master's parentage. A touchy subject I assure you. The Xerarch has been teaching him since his mother died and he scant remembers her. Not to mention he knows barely anything intimate about his father. Hasn't ever even seen the man.

Should you wish to offer instruction or otherwise be a positive influence on the young master know that you have a staunch ally in me.

Rest assured that his latest letter to you nor your response are known to the young master.

Sincerely,

Berenger de Moustiers
Major-domo

 

The text is written in an elegant manner that belies years of practice and confidence. The casket is otherwise entirely unremarkable and nondescript.


Renodin

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Re: The Tales of Nemean JeVondair Renodin
« Reply #8: June 05, 2019, 09:24:35 PM »

Riding out

Having settled his affairs and taking up his banner as his own man for the very first time. Nemean nodded at the handful of riders that comprised his guard. They didn't respond. Hadn't they seen his gesture? The thought assailed the young man. Straightening his back he raised up his right hand and dropped it sharply.

This time the riders responded and set out at a steady pace. The lack of a captain sorely felt by the young Noble. At least they were now on their way to Troyes and after, Bescanon where perhaps he'd catch sight of his first enemy.

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Re: The Tales of Nemean JeVondair Renodin
« Reply #9: June 05, 2019, 09:25:38 PM »

After a long journey

Reaching around the horizon the sky had adopted that hue of fine claret. Gaining an ever deeper shade of cherry as time wore on and causing doubt in a young Noble's mind. The day that precede had beaten down its rays upon the world and proved a deft adversary. For Nemean had not brought a hat and his cheeks hurt from squinting all day long.

Where worry had beset him at least a couple dozen times. Sighting yet another trail of smoke rising from behind a hill or having to decide which direction to take as yet another fork presented itself on the road. He had been certain he'd never make it to the front. At least, not by nightfall he assured himself now. With the war-camp clearly in view.

The standard of the company of men he led was simple. It was black and bore a golden Lion at its center. A far cry from the quality of troops that served under it. Poor form, poor formation and listening poorly to their teenage leader. Yet, despite all this, the young Noble had managed to traverse the rogue lands by himself, leading a tiny band of riders and arrived before dark as his orders had stipulated.

So Nemean rode into the war-camp. Not just a little bit unsure of where to house his men.

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Re: The Tales of Nemean JeVondair Renodin
« Reply #10: June 05, 2019, 09:27:54 PM »

Roleplay from Guldor D'Espana


Guldor had decided to take a walk before the arrival of the night. His Black Whistlers, 125 well-trained and equipped archers that had served in numerous battles and composed in no small part of volunteers he had recruited over the passage of weeks in allied lands, were already settled down and dug in following the orders he had given Captain Ines, the middle-aged woman that he had recruited in Krimml. The war camp was still busy at this time of the night, so he decided against demanding an escort and simply allowed himself the pleasure of walking a few hundred meters away from its external perimeter all on his own.

He was enjoying the cleaner air and quieter surroundings outside when he saw the small retinue of a noblemen he had not met yet. Intrigued, since he was bearing the colors of Eponllyn, he walked back to the camp, wishing to inquire on the identity of this newcomer to the realm.

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Re: The Tales of Nemean JeVondair Renodin
« Reply #11: June 05, 2019, 09:28:23 PM »

Not so very Noble work
 

Quote
The war camp was still busy at this time of the night, so he decided against demanding an escort and simply allowed himself the pleasure of walking a few hundred meters away from its external perimeter all on his own.

He was enjoying the cleaner air and quieter surroundings outside when he saw the small retinue of a noblemen he had not met yet. Intrigued, since he was bearing the colors of Eponllyn, he walked back to the camp, wishing to inquire on the identity of this newcomer to the realm.
~Guldor D'Espana


The illuminating light of the great ball fire in the sky, known as the sun, had already sunk beyond the horizon. In it's place a hundreds of torches and  cooking fires had taken over the job of lighting the war-camp. Nemean stood with his hands on his hips as he observed the disorganized mess that was his little slice of it. Brushing away some sweat from his brow he heard someone approach. The soft crunch of straw that served to supplement the fodder for the horses gave the newcomer away.

Turning to confront the newcomer Nemean stood a bit more erect. ''Who goes there?'' The dark offered shadows and the flames battled to offer identity to eyes that could not see very clearly. Around them stood several hastily pitched tents, a wash-bucket and a small pile of horse tack. The young man looked healthy, sweaty and as if he just did a fair bit of manual labor.

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Re: The Tales of Nemean JeVondair Renodin
« Reply #12: June 05, 2019, 09:29:13 PM »

Roleplay from Guldor D'Espana


In response to the voice that demanded him to identify himself, Guldor snorted quietly and took a last step into the light of the torches. A tall man in his youth, well over the six feet mark in his golden days, Guldor was now barely over the six feet barrier, though he still retained some of the imposing physical presence and broad frame that had made him a fearsome warrior in his prime. Time had not been particularly kind to him, and his face, once well proportioned and quite handsome, was now covered in wrinkles and scars, witnesses to the passage of time and the many disappointments and challenges he had experienced throughout his life.

His hair was perhaps one of the most clear evidences of his past in the Far East Island. Already covered in the grey snow of the elderly, it was cut in the traditional chonmage haircut he had been keeping since his many decades in the remote and now sunken continent. He sported a well-trimmed medium length beard, the same color of his hair. But amongst it all, it was his eyes that probably stood out the most. Dark brown eyes, that looked with the gravity and fatigue of senescence. Eyes that had seen the rise and demise of countless realms. The birth and death of many.

Eyes like an empty void, devoid of most feelings but tiredness outside of the battlefield, where the wrath and impotence of more than sixty winters rose up and carried him throughout the fight... until it all came to an end and, yet another night, death avoided his longing hand and made him wait for the next clash.

But he had been asked a question, and it was impolite to not answer it, particularly in the camp of another nobleman. Nodding in acknowledgement with a neutral expression, he answered in a deep, raspy voice.

- "Guldor D'Espana, knight of Greater Eponllyn. I have not seen your face before, and you are far too young to be one of the old warriors of this realm previous to Redhaven arrival. May I know your name?"

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Re: The Tales of Nemean JeVondair Renodin
« Reply #13: June 05, 2019, 09:30:06 PM »

A Choice of Name


Quote
But he had been asked a question, and it was impolite to not answer it, particularly in the camp of another nobleman. Nodding in acknowledgement with a neutral expression, he answered in a deep, raspy voice.

- "Guldor D'Espana, knight of Greater Eponllyn. I have not seen your face before, and you are far too young to be one of the old warriors of this realm previous to Redhaven arrival. May I know your name?''


Standing in among the tents and general disorder of his camp, Nemean was visibly taken aback by the specter from another time and place. One of the cooking pots currently unattended began to grumble. Its bubbly surface quickly frothing at the edges. Its mass rising and then a sudden ''Plop!'' saw the whole of it sag in on itself again. Save from a few errant splatters being launched from the pot. Which landed wherever they may, wasted.

The noise pulled the young man out of his reverie. He cleared his throat and glanced about quickly as he collected his thoughts. Verdant was the sheen that the torchlight summoned from his eyes. Despite looking disheveled and out of place the young man's hair looked afire in the setting. A beaten gold color that had willingly adopted streaks of fire it seemed. Strands falling haphazardly where otherwise they where previously bound back in a ponytail.

''Of course.'' He took a step towards the living memory of a man. ''I bear the name of Nemean.'' The motion only participially complete as he had begun to extend his hand. Not even the shadows could hide the doubt on his features. ''Of House JeVondair.'' As if to imbue confidence in the shaky statement Nemean turned his emerald gaze to meet the oaken orbs of the elderly warrior. ''I am my mother's son. Taught by the Xerarch, blood of her blood.''

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Re: The Tales of Nemean JeVondair Renodin
« Reply #14: June 05, 2019, 09:31:25 PM »

Roleplay from Guldor D'Espana


Guldor stared silently as the younger man composed himself and finally managed to let out an acceptable answer. When he heard the name Nemean he lifted an eyebrow, which he could only lift even more when he was offered a hesitant handshake. However, when he was reminded that the boy was a JeVondair, he relaxed appreciably, accepting the hand of Nemean and corresponding with a brief and firm shake, pleasantly surprised that he had the stones to look at him straight in the eye. And what eyes he had, bright emerald and intense as few he had seen before.

He put on an unenthusiastic grin after they finished their mutual greeting, and held the eye contact as he spoke a single sentence:

"So you are the hound lad, mhm?"

He kept staring right at Nemean, midly amused at the situation and moderately interested in his reaction.