The Vigiles Amicae is a roleplaying guild in Everquest 2, on the Freeport and Antonia Bayle Servers.

Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Folodu Amrunrosse - updated bio

Full Name: Folodu Amrunrosse
Nicknames: Flo, Fol, Folo


  • Level:82  
  • Class:Dirge RP 
  • Power:Highly skilled  
  • Race:Koada'Dal  
  • Gender:Female  
  • Date of Birth: 
  • Age: approximately 200 years 
  • Hair:Golden Blonde 
  • Skin:pale ivory 
  • Eyes:one eye is light blue, the other dark blue 
  • Height:4'9" Weight:130 pounds 
  • Place of Residence:Freeport 
  • Place of Birth:Qeynos 
  • Relatives:Chevanima, daughter 
  • Enemies: 
  • Allies:Ariahdnia, Sytan
  • Occupation:Carpenter, entertainer, philosopher, writer 
  • Crafting:95 
  • Appearance:A pale skinned, short, blonde Koada with dense muscle and sturdy calves. Usually in neck-to-toe armor or as little as possible. Always carries weapons unless otherwise required not to. Keeps her hair in an efficient braid. Usually smiling. Keeps a one-pound bag on her hip, regardless of armor or casual-wear. 
  • Fashion of Choice:revealing if possible, heavy chain weaves if not. 
  • Armor of Choice:Chain 
  • Weapons of Choice:Daggers, short swords, long swords, machetes, voice, sound 
  • Special Abilities:Very quick, develops strange weapons 

Alignment: Chaotic neutral
Motivations:Food, survival, fun, honor, entertainment, benefit of the group, selfishness, hedonism, duty
Disposition: Outlook: optimistic, conscientious, spontaneous, intrepid, flexible, warm/cold, agreeable, engaging, candid, rebellious 
Religion/Philosophy:Assists the aims of Fizzlethorp Bristlebane, adores Erollisi Marr 
Sexuality:Hedonist, beauty-driven. Bisexual. 
Positive Personality Traits:Tries to bring small groups together into a larger gathering and raise the overall enjoyment. Fun-loving and loyal, driven by emotion and want and comfort. Not afraid to work and get hands dirty, and will try to find the most efficient solutions to any given situation. Will not give up when someone asks her for advice, unless asked to stop giving advice.
Negative Personality Traits:Very much pleasure driven, and when not sworn to a service is very hard to keep on task. Will not give up when someone asks her for advice, sometimes to the point of annoyance and worse.
Misc. Quirks:Eats very odd foods, develops solutions to problems that have not come up. Chooses the perception people carry of her very carefully.


Guild: Vigiles Amicae
Guild Rank: Honored Soldier


Apples, sweets, wild game, savory foods, groups, lust, passion, tenderness, debate and proving that arguments are invalid, tinkering, stories, graphic description, hunting 
gnolls, drolvags (though not as bad as gnolls, as they are more comically proportioned), undead, god-killers and overly powerful people, people who try to restrict her, telepaths and empaths who approach her mind without permission, coercion, drama, stressful situations, slavery, jaegarmeister
Favorite Foods:
Apple pie, apples, apple fritters, apple cake, boiled spider legs, chocolate, tender steaks, most fruits, licorice Favorite Drinks:
Applejuice, apple cider Favorite 
reds, blacks, blues, bright greens, pinks 
tinkering, making odd objects, making up stories, flirting, clothing, confusing others.


Played by What Famous Person:
(suggestions welcome)

Theme Songs:
Power Symphony: The Way of The Sword, Blues Traveler: Hook, HIM: Dark Light

Born of Qeynos, she was raped by a friend of her family's, who was telepathic, at a young age. She killed him immediately after and fled for fear of what she had done and what had happened and has been living in Freeport for a very long time. She has had many lovers and many adventures. She is found frequently in various taverns or randomly around Freeport. She has a Ayr'Dal daughter, with very Tier features, that she dotes on and will talk about length to anyone who will listen for long enough. She is very much pleasure driven, but will ensure her duties are met.
The longer she goes without some restraining duty to keep her activities in check, the worse she will slide into hedonism and enjoying herself to cope with having nothing keeping her busy and occupied.

Has opted on speed and efficiency rather than on raw strength and poisons: Move faster than your enemies, and don't carry things that can be used against yourself or your comrades.

To Worship Bristlebane - An Authoritative Guide part 2


    The goblin tribes have long been a bane to our cause, many times interfering, or worse - copying (in poor approximation), with our Great Prank. However, there has been some occasions to note in which they have managed to get things quite right.
    The aforementioned anecdote is not to be construed as a consistent truth, nor an exception to prove anything, much less a rule. The following tale is mostly true, provided we were drunk through half of it and our recollection is not necessarily accurate to all details.
    One fine week when the weather was particularly fair, the Gigglegibber Goblin tribe decided they were going to prank the notorious Misty Isle Mister - a halfling of some repute among certain circles. They began with something relatively harmless pie-making, supposedly in response to a Gifted Ginger Pie. These claims are false misinformations and hear-say based on no facts in reality and should be studiously ignored.
    However, the pie they attempted to prank with was quite atrocious: mud and wasp guts burned over an open fire. The Mister was, dare I say, unimpressed. We concocted the plan to return the pie, which the Gigglegibber ate greedily. It was revolting.
    In retaliation to this failed prank, the Mister developed a scheme to weasel some the the gambing goblin’s money away from their horde. We replaced real gold coins with gold-foil wrapped coins. The goblins, unfortunately, did not get it, and took it as a peace offering. The goblins planned and plotted. I returned a week later.
    The goblins planned to trick the local pie-maker out of her pies. They gave me a sack of coins and told me to make the pie-maker leave her stall. She adamantly refused, and so I was sent to gather a trinket from the Loping Plains. When presented with the trinket, she departed to give it to Fizzlethorpe. I took the pie and replaced it with coins.
    The pie shop, I would like to note, was failing and the family starving. This deed saved both shop and proprietor. The goblins could not understand that the non-eatable coins were more valuable than the eatable gold coins. This is so far the only known incident where the goblins have managed to do something right while at the same time Not Getting It and Having No Clue What To Do.
    We passed the Communal, no longer remembering what was in it, and all was good.


    There has been only a single incident where someone wanted to recant their religion and follow a new path. This is not for the faint of heart, and requires enough reserves in the Gigglegibber storehouse to last a half-hour, maybe fifteen minutes tops. The Ultimate Prank must be pulled off at the same time as a heist and a stand-up routine. I warn you now, dear Prankster, that the following might result in death, or worse.
    The Ultimate Prank involves faking one’s own death, having a funeral, and stealing a bottle of whiskey during your own wake. The goblins keep no schedules, and so trying to hold them to using their cave to be closer to their storehouse is nigh-impossible. Doing all of this and holding a stand-up comedy routine requires the Skill of Fizzlethorpe Himself. I would go into detail on how the one ex-pranker managed it all, but it has been considered Anathema to Speak Of It.
    For safety, you should now burn this book. All copies and notes must, of course, be stored away from fire, unless you are in need of fuel for winter, in which case have at.

Folodu Amrunrosse

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

A letter on fine vellum, in a perfect copperplate hand

Archivist's note:
This letter has been pieced together from fragments discovered among the late Legate Bellum's personal effects. It seems all the fragments of the original are present, except of course the envelope which must have carried it through the post. It is undated, but from contemporary official reports, we know that the Legate reported finding this letter on his desk less than three days after the raid on the Crimson Rose.

Legate Fafnier:

     Accept my most sincere condolences on the difficulties you and your Company are facing with the loss of not one, but two of your number. I am sure the disadvantage can hardly even be measured, as my estranged, esteemed brother is hardly a replaceable quantity, and surely any creature he would seed a child with is remarkable in her own right.

     Though we have never been on the best terms, as we are too alike to ever be easy in one another’s company, I would offer you my assistance, however small. Even divided as we are there is a certain comfort in knowing he is secure. Our politics and methods have long diverged, but I have never allowed that, nor his resentful character, to color my affection for him. He has long had the habit of going missing, and at the most inconvenient times for his associates, but then he is young. The follies of youth are always less amusing when one is too close to them.

     I recall one incident, in particular, when he vanished into an infamous bordello for decades. No doubt he was intent on freeing the tarnished blooms, and rehabilitating the debauched patrons to lives of virtue and celibacy. He has ever had a charmingly simple ethos, willing to sacrifice every good thing for the redemption of a stranger.

     It is charming he has attached himself to you and your little Company - certainly he has been indispensible in assisting your own liberation efforts - at least until recently. I am sure you are already doing every possible thing to recover him from whatever romantic distraction has diverted him, but if there is any information I can lend you in the matter, I would be happy to take time away from my flock to assist you. I understand in your last campaign you did not receive the support you needed in time to make the desired impact on young Lucan. It was a great pity to hear of the many losses which followed, especially when I learned you were among the fallen.

     I trust your own native generosity will move you to forgive my younger brother his cautious nature. I am certain there were many factors which impacted the lack of reinforcements and the subsequent untimely delay in restoring you to yourself. No doubt there are lingering complications from that - the Restorative Arts are among the most complex patterns known, but I flatter myself I have long been a master of them. I would even be able to mitigate the difficulties of the contagion you suffer, if you would flatter me with an audience.

I would of course wish to know if there is any way I might be of assistance to you in recovering my errant brother and his lover from his folly, howsoever small. Please, seek me out at your convenience in the Lady Erolissi’s temples within Qeynos, if you can. I would speak with you, have you the time.

Archbishop Marconis Fiac

Friday, February 3, 2012

A plain, red-spined book - Apocryphal Journals: Folodu Amrunrosse

Archivist's note:
It is clear from contemporary records that Amrunrosse was fastidious about keeping her journals on her person or otherwise well secured, yet in the recent reorganization of the archive we have found loose signatures tucked among unrelated treatises on the applied arts of entropy as relates to the keeping of vegetable gardens in various climates.
Each is no more than eight pages of vellum, stitched with waxed linen thread and apparently in good condition, aside from having been at some point separated from the rest of its volume. The handwriting appears to be consistent from one entry to the next, though there are huge swaths of the work still missing.
What remains has been bound together in a probable chronology, and wrapper leaves were added around each original signature to hold such notation as is possible. The entries are undated in the original hand, but as many of the incidents are cross-referenced in the public archives, so a loose chronology may be posited.

This entry is less focussed than most, and seems to be trying to fill in random, potentially political events between this entry, and the blithe survey which seems to have been written some time before it. 

It is unclear whether this stowaway incident was in fact the same as mentioned previously, as it seems the younger Amrunrosse developed a habit of escaping her guardians and tutors.

It is advised that the student of history take her offered chronology and editorial commentary with a hearty grain of salt. In all the records we have of her hand, public and private, there is every evidence of a profound sense of her own centrality to events. Like most of the bardic-trained, it does seem she was drawn into many of the pivotal events of her time, and this must have only confirmed to her that she was therefore a driver of them.

There has been much in the last little bit. Life is either slow, or overburdened. It always amazes me to see it shift between the two.

As a start to all of it, Cheva was playing in the harbor, and decided to play on a ship in the harbor. When the ship was ready to sail, this boundary did not hold up and she decided to be a stowaway. As soon as I found out, I was on the nearest ship I could find. She, of course, was on a simple supply run down the coast and back. I ended up shipwrecked with a bunch of pilgrims on a snowpack glacier. “Playing in the harbor” does not mean the ships in the harbor, and certainly not taking said ships in the harbor.

Luck was on my side, that I had opted to have my normal kit with me. I must say - my travel companions were less than helpless, and many of which needed rescued from the various dangers of the ice. Must keep in mind - do not work for free even once. If nothing else, take the money and sneak it back into their belongings later. Once you do one thing...

Later in the evening, I was able to find out from a Fier' in the Amicae that Cheva was returned. That was very relieving - it is more than unfortunate that he ran afoul of Marconis in a mission onto the tundra himself. We don’t know a thing about where they may have gone, so for now there is not much we can do but search.

On a completely unrelated note, a few evenings ago I spent learning some about Tier tastes. I will gladly wear a collar for her again. I cannot explain, exactly, why it was so desirable, but to have someone wish to own you! And to serve! This has been my only positive interaction with masters and slaves, and I really enjoyed myself thoroughly. I do not think Ari has taken such a keen outlook on it - but as I told her, I will test her and show her and me if she is the monster she fears.

Our little magus, Randie, seems to be having some trouble. He has lost some old friends and it has hit him hard. However, he also seems to have inherited a dragon’s horde... very odd. I feel for him, though. A lot on his shoulders, and so far as I can tell, there isn’t anything for him to actually do any longer. He gets to make up his own fate, when he never used to. He will get to feeling better.

Varric has come back from the dead, it would seem. I saw him last performing or guarding at the Lotus the other night. He apologized about falling off the face of Norrath, and that it was not anything planned. Very odd, still, that one.

The same night in the Lotus, I caught up with Vaka again. After arresting some girl for attacking some newly turned vampire, I wanted to know about a thing the girl said - she is a part of a group who “doesn’t exist”. Must be a very young operative, to even admit that. It could spell trouble, and it could be someone a little soft in the head. Either way, it is good to know potential challenges.

I still miss Xil, from time to time. And missing him reminds me of Fafnier. I hope Sytan can resurrect him soon. It has been far too long since I have heard his voice and enjoyed his company.