So you see... Elowen Adler is a centaur (CLOSED)

[treetracer]

Hello all!

It’s been a while, approximately 2 years to be told.

I’m back in the game with a very specific lady.

First and foremost I’m looking for literate, enthusiastic, long-spoken writers to role-play/co-op write with. Simply meaning… one-liners will not be entertained. I understand that, sometimes, your muse, that tiny little voice that fuels your creativity, is as quiet as a church mouse. Short replies are okay but I don’t want them to be your norm as they will not be my norm. I write in 3rd person but you may write in whichever POV you desire. I'm pretty relaxed on most other things. I'm no grammar hound.

Now, let’s get down to business.

Elowen Adler is a centaur that I made for a DnD campaign who has unfortunately… died. However, I have resurrected her for the sake of an RP because I love her dearly.

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She is a kind soul, loyal to a fault, and always willing to offer a helping hand. Once a merchant by trade she now spends most of her time in a cottage deep in the forest away from the public eye as she is a bit of a spectacle - half horse as she is. She took up the art of healing, learning simple spells, and the art of crafting healing potions, salves, and the like to pass the time in her solitude. She spends her time tending her garden, foraging, and occasionally traveling to the nearby village to sell her homemade items. Her lovely cat Clawdia, a white fluffy creature, also lives with her, keeping the mice in check, and providing a companion on days that feel especially lonely.

If one were to visit her she would open her home gladly, offering treats and tea in abundance. Though, one should be warned, centaurs do not often wear clothes when in the comfort of their own home. Elowen is no exception, though she’s mindful of her appearance when going into town, and she’s quick to dress if someone stops by unexpectedly.

Despite enjoying the quiet life a large part of her longs for the days when she was a merchant, traveling the world, and selling her wares but she knows that this is likely something she’ll never do again. Fear keeps her rooted in place, deep in the forest, off of strange roads and away from even stranger people.
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Elowen is compatible with most races - magical or otherwise. She’s a character that sees the heart rather than the face.

I’m open for most plotting ideas. I do prefer to build up to smut rather than just diving right into it.

I love WHUMP. I love this. I adore this.

Elowen finding your character wounded in the woods? I’m here for it.

Your character banging on her door in the middle of the night, rain pouring, thunder booming, lightening flashing and your character in desperate need of help? Yes, please, let’s do this.

Elowen finds herself in a dire situation, ambushed by a predator and your character sweeps in and aids her and is injured in the process. Sign me up.

I think you get the idea.

If you’re interested and want to run some plot bunnies by me send me a PM. I’m also in the Discord sever so @ me and I’ll respond.


RP sample below.

Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide

Astara felt the niggling sensation that something wasn’t right, as if the air had become stagnate as they had ridden. The sounds of the forest didn’t seem off, until she heard a peculiar sound that did not match the forest for the time of day.

It dawned on her too late.

She whipped Sage around in time to see a Sharlock, an unusually lithe and limber Darkspawn, hurl itself from the woodland. Astara wasn’t fast enough to respond to the creature as it knocked Darius from his mount. The mage was quick to stand and, for a moment Astara was reassured until he turned to her and walled her off from him – the barricade of ice startled Sage and she shied away. She was confused. Why would he do that? They were a team.

Four more Genlock’s barreled out of the trees and toward Darius, on his side of the ice. How had so many gone unnoticed? Were they really that tired and unaware that five Darkspawn could catch them unawares? Anger flooded Astara and she yelled, wordlessly, at the Darkspawn that were closing in on Darius again. His blood as sweet as honey to them.

“In War, Victory!” she screamed as she knocked two arrows, pointed it quickly at the sky, loosed them and in that same moment turned her horse opposite the direction of the fight – as if she might actually flee. Sage made it several long strides down the path before Astara whipped her back around and spurred the horse maddeningly. The mare surged forward, the blonde rogue stood, notched another arrow, and with one barked command, Sage came to a sliding halt before the ice wall. Astara used the momentum, sprung off the black steed back and cleared the would-be-barrier. She was agile and quick as she flipped forward and loosed her third arrow – it found its home in the skull of the creature that had attacked Darius.

She landed hard and whipped around to face the last two attackers. Both Genlock raced for her – she took out one with an arrow to the neck and the other, to close to draw on, she reached back for her fifth arrow and, without missing a beat, rammed it into the eye socket of the last Darkspawn. Gore splattered her hand and face and she stood before her fallen for a moment before she turned back to Darius.

“Darius,” she exclaimed as she rushed back to his kneeling form and took a knee before him. She whistled to their two horses that picked their way around the ice wall. Astara wiped her hands on her tunic and took his face in her hands. “Darius, look at me,” she said and she could see the color in his cheeks was horribly pale. “No, no... you’re not allowed to do this to me. I don’t have magic like you do,” she said as panic began to rise in her chest and the nervousness made her smile despite not wanting to.

Starlight and Sage were at her back now and she motioned for Sage to kneel, which the warhorse did without question. “Darius, stay with me, okay?” she said as she slipped her arms under his and carefully lifted him. The warm tacky feeling of blood scared her. Sharlock blades could be lethal and often tainted with things worse than Darkspawn blood. Poison, a bleeding spell? She had no way of knowing.

Astara turned around once he was up off his knees a little and pulled his arms over her shoulders so that she could lift him over to Sage. He was heavy, most of his weight slack against her but what little he did help was a small mercy. She managed to get him onto the broad back of her mare behind the saddle before she too mounted up, keeping his arms over her shoulders so that he could rest against her. Astara clicked her tongue and Sage rose. She whistled to Starlight and he followed without hesitation.

They didn’t move as fast as she wanted to, the mud keeping them at an agonizingly slow gallop or walk.

“Hey, Darius, we’re getting closer,” she said after a time. She had spotted chimney smoke sever miles ago and she’d made a beeline for it. In the meantime, she’d spoke to Darius to try and keep him alert. She mostly prattled on about the birds and berries that she was seeing as they went or about how she was going to be sure to give their horses a well-deserved brushing once they were someplace better. He was getting colder though; she could feel it in his hands that she held to keep him in place. She even felt it in his cheek that was occasionally pressed against hers.

“Darius, you have to stay awake for me, okay? I have so much I still want to tell you, so much I want to show you. I want to take you to visit where I grew up in the Hinterlands. I want to go visit the ocean again and watch the sunrise over it. Don’t you?” she asked him though she didn’t expect an answer. “We’ve been through so much together; we’ll get through this too. You’ll get through this. I believe in you, Darius. You’re the most amazing mage I’ve ever known. You’re cunning, smart, sharp tonged and strong. I’ve seen the spells you’ve woven – they are beautiful things,” she said with a smile though she felt tears threatening to fall. “You’re a dragon, Darius... you’re my Dragon and I am your Bright Star,” she said and reached up to touch his face and felt her heart sink deeper. He was so cool. “Please, stay with me,” she begged him.

Less than a mile traveled under the hooves of their horses before she came upon a hut. An elderly woman was clipping herbs in the garden that seemed to be all around the house.

“Please! Wise mother, I need your help!” Astara called out and the elderly lady hesitated before her aged eyes grew wide at seeing Darius behind the young blonde.

“Oh, child, bring him inside,” she said without hesitation and rushed to open the door. Astara nudged Sage with the toe of her boot and the warhorse knelt as she had before. Quickly the lithe rogue hauled the whole of her companion onto her back and ushered him inside where the wise woman was clearing the table. “On the table dear, those wounds look bad,” she said and busied herself with collecting rags and pots of small things that Astara didn't recognize. “Take off his robes and tunic, leave the trousers, I need a better look at the wound,” she told Astara and Astara complied.

His wounds were bad but not nearly as deep as she thought they would be. Perhaps his bleeding had come from enchanted blades and less of the actual depth. Bleeding spells wore off – deep wounds, however, were another story entirely. The older woman handed her a warm rag and motioned for her to clean the wound.

“Tell me child, what’s your name?” she asked and the Grey Warden looked to her.

“I’m Astara,” she said as she carefully dabbed at the wounds on her friends back – too lost in thought to ask who the elderly woman was.

“I’m Agatha, if you’re wondering,” she said with a smile and Astara nodded.

“Thank you, Agatha,” she said then stepped back as the white-haired Herbalist went to work. Astara sat beside him and ran her hand through his hair and gently cupped his face, soothing him as much as she was able. “Darius... I’m here, you’re going to be alright now,” she said and leaned forward to press a kiss to his temple.

The old woman observed but said nothing as she worked.