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  1. Hearth


    Partridge went sprinting through the thicket, her previous task of killing the deer forgotten as she rushed along, pursuing her attacker. Actually, it wasn't even her attacker, because this man or women hadn't even made an attempted to harm her before they fled. But they had killed her dog. And they were going to pay. She pulled her white, diamond like hair from her black hair tie and pulled the tie around her wrist as she ran, not missing a beat as she jumped over a large log and landed on the other side. She took hold of a side of the hair tie and pulled it up and flicked it against her wrist. Instantly it transformed. It melted, and in its place a bow appeared. Over her shoulder a bag appeared, loaded with ten arrows with iron tips. Five of the tips shone green. They were laced in poison, and if she got a hold of whoever did this, she just might have to use them. The trees and foliage became denser, the roots more lumpy and the branches thicker and lower as she went, making it hard to keep up her pace. She slowed to a jog and called out, her head swinging wildly from side to side looking for any signs of movement, "Come out you coward! Show yourself! I will be… Gentle, if you come out now!" Nobody showed. She slowed to walk and took in her surroundings more clearly. The regular oaks were giving way to darker trees, more luscious with a weird type of fruit she had never seen before. She sighed audibly, "I've gone past my boundaries, "she thought, "Father is going to kill me if he finds out." She was tempted to go back, but she had to avenge her poor bloodhound. Soon, she heard the faint roar of water. She looked around, fearing the murderer could've plunged into the forest, off the trail, which they probably did. But she didn't see how they could have. Around the edges of the trail there was poison ivy and thorn bushes and other strange plants that didn't look to pleasant. But she hadn't even seen where the arrow had come from. They could have shot from the trees, or maybe they hide in a hole somewhere. Knowing it was hopeless, she turned back. She trudged through town slowly and sadly. Her bow was back as a hair tie now, but she hadn't bothered to put it up in her hair. It stayed on her wrist. A couple older folk had the audacity to ask her what was wrong. "What do they think is wrong?" she thought angrily to herself," I'm carrying a dead dog with a poorly done muddy bandage over the middle of its forehead, my boots are muddy and I smell like the forest." She got home at 8:14, sixteen minutes before her dad was due home. Her mom was already home. She was sitting on the couch reading a scroll titles "Alan and Astronomy". Despite is atrocious title, it was a really good informative scroll. She had always loved science and nature and astronomy. Almost as much as she loved bows and daggers and swords. "We're going out for dinner tonight honey so get changed into something.. Nice" her mom said without looking up from her book. "Mom," Partridge said, her voice tight. Harriet looked up then, and clasped her hand over her mouth. "How?" she started. She couldn’t finish though, so she just gestured to the dog. "Someone shot him. Couldn’t do anything. They got away," she stated simply, "I'm not going today, I'm digging him a grave." Partridge left no room for protest as she walked away. She spent the whole night digging the grave, she dug by the light of the moon. By the time dawn rolled around she was exhausted, but satisfied. She lowered Wisp's body into it and covered it with dirt. Then she got a flatter piece of wood and some paint. Using her fingers she painted simply," R.I.P. Wisp". She got a big rock and put it on the grave and propped the sign up on it. She had had a lot of time to think during the night, and she decided something. She was going to leave this little town. Fourteen years she had stayed her, hunting for meat for her dad to use in his meat shop. Her poor little puppy hadn't even got to see the world, or do anything exciting. The funniest thing he'd done was chase down a deer and wrestle it when he was still being trained. So, she was going to leave Coastal Grande, in favor of doing something better, more substantial. She was going to see the world and help everyone who asked. She brushed the mud and dirt of her jeans and walked back to the house, taking one last look at Wisp's grave as she went. She had some planning and packing to do.
  2. Hearth


    No, he can be whatever type of person you want him to be.
  3. Hearth


    Probably tomorrow afternoon.
  4. Hearth


    That's cool.
  5. Hearth


    Yeah. Honestly if you didn't want to use mine you can make your own. You can play a merc or a passing traveler. Whatever you want really. Ok.
  6. Hearth


    Yeah that would be great.
  7. Hearth


    I am looking to do an RP where my character Partridge leaves her family in Costal Grande at the age of 14 to look for quests and work elsewhere. She leaves with her two best friends. She has one magical item with her, a hairtie that can turn into a bow. I am new to this.
  8. Hearth

    Partridge Clemenson

    Backstory When Partridge was younger, eight years old to be exact, she used to fall asleep on the porch swing in the front of their house. Her father, Hamlet, had to carry her inside after Harriet, her mother, started fretting that she would be eaten by a wild animal. After the fourth night Hamlet told her that he would leave her out to be eaten by horrible monsters, despite the protests from her mother. But that night she went outside to look at the stars and planets again. Since she was very little she had had a fascination with astronomy. She read all the old scrolls she could find about space, and the sky, and nature. After a good hour just staring into the black oblivion, Partridge feel asleep on the swing. Her father, ignoring her mother's objections, decided to play a prank on Partridge. He carefully lifted her off the porch swing and placed her on a flatter spot in the woods around the back of their house. Hamlet placed her behind a tree, her white, diamond like, pigtails sticking straight out. This was so Hamlet could watch, and see her when she woke up, but she wouldn’t be able to immediately see the house. "That'll knock some sense into her," Hamlet thought to himself as he sat down on the first step of the back porch. His plan had many noticeable flaws. He probably would've had a heart attack when she rolled in her sleep and her pigtails immediately vanished from view behind the ginormous tree, had he been awake. The mother, being of the same intelligence level of her husband, had believed him immediately when he had told her that he would going to go sleep outside with Partridge, and had went to bed soon after. When Partridge woke up that morning she wasn't even the littlest bit frightened. She was very curious as to how she had ended up in the woods, but not scared. She was actually excited. "I've never been allowed this far into the forest!" she thought happily. She didn’t know how close her house actually was, because when she had got up her back was facing it and she hadn’t bothered to turn around. "I'll just go in a little deeper. I can't be too far from home. I'll just explore a bit and then come back and start yelling." And with that thought, she plunged into the forest. It was a lovely day. It was still fairly early in the morning, so the air was chilly, but besides that it was a perfect for exploring. "Or at least, "she concluded," It’s not raining." She walked further and further in, happy to walk silently and listen to the birds and smell the forest, at least for a while. But after a while, since she was a eight year old girl, she got bored. She contemplated going back, but something drew her further. Soon she came across a dense patch of trees with an opening between them like a big doorway. Vines were draped over the door like a curtain. She, with some effort, pushed passed the tangle of vines and came to a small clearing. In the middle of the clearing there was a small shack. It looked like a shed, but upon inspection she decided it had once been a house. Now, nature was reclaiming it. Intrigued, she went up to it. The door was locked, but after a few hard kicks part of it broke in and within minutes Partridge had made a hole big enough to get through. Now, as she was crawling through the door, Hamlet had just woken up. After he stretched his thoughts started to come back to him, and he realized what had happened. He sprung up and moved at speeds that were previously thought unachievable by someone of his size. When he got to the tree and saw his little girl was gone. Hamlet didn't even think that maybe she had gotten up and moved of her own accord, and started a sluggish trudge back to the house. All the while he was trying to come up with an explanation for poor Harriet and fight back tears that were threatening to form. He waited until Harriet was fully awake and had changed into a clean pair of day clothes before he broke the news. Then Hamlet sat her down and explained what had happened over the night. When he finished he hung his head and waited for her to blow up, or start sobbing. He hadn’t expected the calm, albeit quiet question" Was there any blood, or tracks, or indication she had been taken?" He was so surprised in fact that he fell of the edge of the bed. When he had regained his composure he told her simply," No". That's when Harriet lost it. "Hamlet!" she screamed," You idiot! You complete buffoon! Did you ever once consider that she might've gotten up and walked off herself!" She continued yelling, but it was more to herself then anything," My baby! I must find my baby!" And with that she sprinted from the house, leaving a very baffled Hamlet in the bedroom. Partridge, by this time, had already explored the whole first level of the house. The only place left was the basement. After a few deep breaths to settle her nerves she walked down the steps. It was surprisingly light, lit by an unknown source. She remembered then what her mother had told her about weeks before, magic. "I wonder if this is some of that," she thought. She explored the whole basement in three minutes. She was just about to go back up and go home when something shiny caught her eyes. This thing happened to be a pure black hair tie. She didn’t know why she walked over to it, seeing as she already had two in her hair to hold up her pigtails and about a dozen more at home, but it was just something about it she couldn’t resist to at least investigate. When she got over to the warped desk it was lying on, she was disappointed to see it was just a hair tie. But she put it on her wrist to take home anyway. It was when she exited the house that the trouble started. Trouble, in the form of a big black bear. When she stepped out into the daylight, she was facing the bear, looking straight into his silvery grey eyes that looked disturbingly like her own, in color anyway. Her family and close friends had always described her eyes as innocent and deer like, and there was nothing innocent about the eyes of this bear. But there was definitely hate, and rage. She backed up into the outside wall of the house, and the bear growled at her. She had no ideas, and was very panic stricken. The bear growled again. She should've ran, but she couldn’t. Then she got the stupidest idea in the history of stupid ideas. She would flick the hair tie at the bear. She moved to take it off, but the bear growled again, and her hand slopped. The black tie flicked back against her wrist. And then something truly magical happened. The tie transformed into a bow, and a sack with a dozen arrows appeared slung over her shoulder. This made the bear very angry, and it moved to charge. Partridge screamed, and grabbed an arrow from the pal and shot it. She had never been to a class in her life. She'd never even owned a bow. But someehow she knew exactly how to shoot. It hit the bear dead in the forehead, and it collapsed, dead instantly. She slid to the ground against the wall, panting heavily desire her lack of real physical exertion. After a minute, she walked over to the body of the bear and pulled the arrow out. The tip had broken off. As she throw it to the ground she heard someone calling her name a ways a way. "Over here!" she called to them," I'm here!" Then she started crying. Harriet found her baby girl sitting on the ground in a small clearing, next to a dead bear, with a bow on her lap and a bag slung over her shoulder. She ran over to her. The first thing Partridge said to Harrier was," It’s gone." "What's gone darling?" Harriet asked her daughter, crouching on the ground beside her. "The house. I got the bow and the arrows there. They were a hair tie, but they changed into a bow and arrows. But the house is gone now." She pointed to a spot in the middle of the clearing. It was empty except for grass and one daisy. "Look mommy" Partridge said, calling her attention back to her daughter. Partridge put the bow on her wrist, and it changed. The sack and vow disappeared, leaving one shiny black hair tie on her wrist. She was never told why she woke up in the woods. Her mom took her to get archery lessons from Partridge's best friend's dad, Mr. Hanbread. His son, her best friend, Camper, also was trained how to shoot. The training proved barely beneficial to her because she was already really good. Harriet taught her daughter how to put her hair back in a messy bun with her special hair tie. She only took it out to brush her hair and wash. Some grouchier people in town started speculating that she couldn’t shoot without her special bow. She proved them wrong once and for all when she held a shooting competition and won without her special bow. Mr.Clemenson was never exactly the same after that. He nearly had a heart attack when Partridge fell asleep outside, this time on a blanket four nights after the incident. Mrs.Clemenson wasn't surprised when she found her husband and daughter sleeping outside that morning.