- Invitation Status
- Looking for partners
- Posting Speed
- 1-3 posts per week
- One post per week
- Slow As Molasses
- Online Availability
- Usually every day, but I often don't like posting every day.
- Writing Levels
- Elementary
- Intermediate
- Adept
- Adaptable
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Female
- Nonbinary
- Genres
- Fantasy, modern fantasy, high fantasy, romance, slice of life, sci-fi, grimdark, light fandoms (next gen, non canon chars, etc)
A letter. In his hand, Zuriel stared at the letter that had led him here. It was a simple piece of parchment, claiming the sender needed his help. Mortals needing his help was not at all strange, he often helped those wanting to destroy evil creatures. He was an angel who was seen to be not connected to the heavens anymore, many knew him as a rogue who could assist without interference. They were wrong, of course, but it was how he let them see him.
This letter had led him to a tavern in the rather small town of Elington, an almost exclusively human town, filled with farmers, beggars, and merchants. He had yet to see anything other than a human inside the town. The tavern itself was called The Bleeding Trapper. He could never get used to the silly names of places like these. He reached towards the door of the tavern, and pushed it open with ease. Inside, the smell of alcohol, smoke, and food hit him like a wall. He peered around the smoky tavern, noting some patrons. None of them seemed to be very interesting, mostly farmers and guards. One person, however, caught his interest. A younger woman who looked to be already whetting her thirst. Taking a short moment to scour the tavern with his telepathy, he could see that she was indeed the one who he was looking for.
Zuriel moved past the tables, until he reached her. He sat down adjacent to her, placing the letter in front of where she sat. He could only hope she wasn't too far into her drinks, and could speak to him without too much trouble. Drunk humans were some of his least favorite people, even more than the dwarven folk.
"I received your summons." He told her, eyes scanning her face. "You claim you need help. I can be that help. You may call me Theliel, a rogue but not fallen cherub," His face remained neutral, as he simply stared at her. "I can help you find what or who you seek, at a fair price."
This letter had led him to a tavern in the rather small town of Elington, an almost exclusively human town, filled with farmers, beggars, and merchants. He had yet to see anything other than a human inside the town. The tavern itself was called The Bleeding Trapper. He could never get used to the silly names of places like these. He reached towards the door of the tavern, and pushed it open with ease. Inside, the smell of alcohol, smoke, and food hit him like a wall. He peered around the smoky tavern, noting some patrons. None of them seemed to be very interesting, mostly farmers and guards. One person, however, caught his interest. A younger woman who looked to be already whetting her thirst. Taking a short moment to scour the tavern with his telepathy, he could see that she was indeed the one who he was looking for.
Zuriel moved past the tables, until he reached her. He sat down adjacent to her, placing the letter in front of where she sat. He could only hope she wasn't too far into her drinks, and could speak to him without too much trouble. Drunk humans were some of his least favorite people, even more than the dwarven folk.
"I received your summons." He told her, eyes scanning her face. "You claim you need help. I can be that help. You may call me Theliel, a rogue but not fallen cherub," His face remained neutral, as he simply stared at her. "I can help you find what or who you seek, at a fair price."