Fashion Show (Adventurers)

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ADVENTURER

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#1:
He is a winged atavian. He is five foot, seven inches tall with short, brown hair styled formally.
He has cloudy green eyes and a  very short, but well-trimmed, growth of a beard. His lips are thin
and wide which can stretch to an uncommonly wide smile. His wings stretch the length of his thing,
muscular frame. Streams of thin silver feathers decorate his otherwise dark gray wings in no
discernible pattern. His skin is well tanned and decorated in twisting vine tattoo art. Black vines
with subtle thorns travel as far up his arms as can be seen and extend all the way to his wrists
where, on his right wrist, five red leaves decorate the black vines.

He is wearing:
   a gold-bellied corset with attached aqua wings
   thigh-high boots covered in turquoise sequins
   sparkly shoulder-length turquoise gloves
   a sequinned turquoise hood with googly dragon eyes
   an imposing dragon claw bracelet
   an imposing dragon claw bracelet
   a tight steel collar with a glimmering tag

Monev steps from behind the curtain, turquoise scales gleam in the light as he raises displaying his golden layered belly. With his maw wide open, Monev lets out a mighty roar, his back arching and chest puffed out in a great display of strength. Glittering just beyond his maw, blue flame begins to dance and then roar to life shooting towards the skyline.

Nicca says in a throaty, genteel voice, "Monev is modeling a whimsical outfit that illustrates the fondest dreams of nearly every adventurer."

Monev drops down on all fours prancing and waddling gingerly down the runway, his gimpy, aqua-colored wings flapping from side to side. Tail waggling and googly eyes shaking wildly, he stops at the end of the runway to perform a simple, four-legged dance. He makes his turn, nearly swiping those in the front row with his waggling tail before pausing. He turns his head over his shoulder, the wide maw smiling at the nearly-struck observers.

Nicca says in a throaty, genteel voice, "Whether worn in seriousness or in jest, and we sincerely hope it's the latter, the sparkly turquoise and gold dragon gear, complete with finely crafted collar and tag, is sure to bring out the fierce dragon in your favorite adventurer."

Monev begins to walk back down the runway, as he goes, he works through a series of strikes as if he was a poorly trained monk, the bracelet's clawed hands swiping in the air wildly, then changing to pretend to swing a sword, much large than he can carry, at an imaginary foe. Continuing back from the runway he goes through hand movements as if forming a powerful spell. Ending his walk he slumps down dejectedly, his spell failing miserably.

Exiting the runway, Monev's atavian wings fill the floppy dragon's wings and begin to flap. Rising from the ground his clawed boots make a loud scraping noise. He looks over the crowd, the maw of his hood wreathing in a blueish flame, he breathes out a loud roar of blue flame then claps merrily, the claws of the bracelets clinking. He points clawed fingers towards the collar he wears that glistens in the light and smiles.

Nicca says in a throaty, genteel voice, "Well done, Monev!"

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#2:
She is a beautiful siren who is a Physically fit woman . Standing only around five feet tall at full
height, her figure is slim and toned hinting at an active lifestyle, though her small size and
slender form give the impression of fragility. Her face is round and cherubic and framed by her
curly blond hair which trails from her head all the way down to her feet. Accenting her girlish
looks are her large, deep green eyes, still full of innocence as she regards the world around her.
Her lips are soft and full, a light pink in colour and when pulled back into a smile they reveal her
perfectly white teeth. Just above her small mouth, and set between her green eyes is an equally
small nose that tapers elegantly to a point. Despite her almost fragile appearance, if one were to
look closely, they would see that the muscles of her arms and legs are quite trim and toned, hinting
at strength that contradicts her tiny physique.

She is wearing:
   a coal black sleeveless mining tunic
   a pair of seductive leather mining trousers
   a utilitarian mining belt
   a pair of heavy steel-toed mining boots
   a rustic sapphire and silver miners's ring
   a silver pendant of miner's tools
   a rustic armband of hammered silver

Nicca says in a throaty, genteel voice, "Next up we have Seara!"

With head held high, Seara thrusts the curtain aside and takes a bold step onto the runway. She pauses momentarily and her eyes widen as she scans the crowd. Nervously fingering the tiny tools on the pendant around her neck, she takes a deep breath to regain her composure, then flashes a wide smile to the audience.

Nicca says in a throaty, genteel voice, "As you all know, mining has become a necessity and a passion for many adventurers. The need for proper clothing that can withstand the rigours of such gruelling work was our inspiration this practical outfit."

Plucking a pickaxe from a loop on the utilitarian belt cinched around her sleek, leather tunic, Seara slings it over one shoulder and boldly strides down the runway. Light catches and glints off the steel toes of her heavy boots with each confidant footfall.

Nicca says in a throaty, genteel voice, "The designers strove for a look that was suitable for both female and male adventurers, flattering while still functional. And of course with the newly found wealth from the mines, comes the fruits of the labour."

As she makes a quick turn at the end of the runway, the leather lacings on each side of her coal-black tunic whip around. Seara pauses briefly and drops to one knee then gracefully rises, demonstrating the flexibility of her outfit. A rustic sapphire ring glitters on her hand as she neatly drops the pickaxe back into her belt and ambles back up the runway.

Nicca says in a throaty, genteel voice, "What miner can resist wearing jewellery crafted from the fruit of their hard work?"

Pausing before the curtain, Seara turns and saucily places one hand on her hip. Proudly lifting her
shoulder, she rests her other hand just beneath the rustic armband encircling her strong bicep to
show off the fruits of her labor. With a quick backward step, she gives a casual wave and disappears
behind the folds of the curtain.

Nicca says in a throaty, genteel voice, "Well done, Seara, so practical and yet stunning."

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#3:
She is a winged atavian. Standing at about average height, she holds herself with a simple, balanced
grace. Her skin is a light tan, unblemished except for a thin tattoo of a band of fire around her
left wrist. She has a lean build with distinct female curves, while obvious muscles show that she is
no stranger to physical excercise. Her face is almost perpetually curved up in a slight smile, with
her small nose causing her light brown eyes to appear larger. Her black hair, allowed to grow just a
bit messy, falls to slightly below the shoulder blades, where the tips end in a dusty pink. Two
large wings emerge from her back, the plumage a mottled brown that fades into pink at the tips.

She is wearing:
   a beat-up jacket of dark brown
   a tattered blouse of forest green
   ragged leather leggings of dark brown
   worn black leather boots
   a copper indigo nightfire brooch

Jewellery:
   a delicate filigree dragon stud through her right ear
   a delicate filigree dragon stud through her left ear

Chain trailing behind her from a tarnished steel anklet, Keorin steps out from the curtains. With a light swing she buries a primitive battleaxe deep into the stage to adjust her beat-up jacket and fluff out the forest green tattered blouse. Ripping the axe from its locus, she slings it over her right shoulder with ease as she strides confidently down the runway.

Nicca says in a throaty, genteel voice, "Being an adventurer is a dirty business and with our
"lightly worn" outfit you won't notice any extra dirt or mud you add to the design."

The chains 'clink' with each step as Keorin reaches the end of the runway, the atavian stomping down with one of the black worn leather boots in a display of its clearly rugged craftsmanship. Keorin then sets the axe on its eye before stepping in front of it with one leg, the dark brown ragged leggings showing clearly as the light accentuates her thighs. Freezing her position to the likeness of a statue, the copper indigo nightfire brooch seems the only thing lifelike about her.

Nicca says in a throaty, genteel voice, "You will be able to focus on what matters: where your journey takes you. It doesn't matter if it's catching butterflies for Vellis or ascending to dragonhood!"

Without warning, Keorin's body returns to life as she carefully kicks the shoulder of the battleaxe handle with the sturdy heel of her boot, before whirling it around to rest on the shoulder of the lightly stained jacket. Like a sophisticated stallion rearing up, Keorin's wings beat a few times, sending the jacket fluttering against the snug fabric of the blouse as she turns to walk down the runway once more. Glancing back one last time before moving, her light brown eyes coruscate with
adventures unknown.

Keorin intentionally trips right before the end of the run way. In an act of dexterity and grace she front rolls forward, whirling one leg around so she faces the audience, Keorin's wings beat out creating a luminous backdrop as she raises to her feet, a coy smile upon her feminine features. After a moment with her head held high, light glinting off the silver, dragon-styled studs in her ears, she turns and glides through the curtain, the primitive battleaxe stayed by her side.

Nicca says in a throaty, genteel voice, "Well done, Keorin, those clothes look like an adventurous
wear!"

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#4:
She is a beautiful siren. She is just under five feet in height. She has long straight black hair,
which is put into a ponytail in the back of her head and bangs that fall slightly over her left eye.
She has a pale skin complextion and flawless skin. Her eyes are a bright almost glowing green. She
has a small body which shows off her womanly curves. She has long slender fingers, with violet
painted fingernails.

She is wearing:
   a red-and-white feathered cloak laden with charms
   delicate wrap-around fox fur sandals
   bell-sleeved gloves inlaid with emerald depictions
   a horned headdress adorned with links and feathers
   a bone choker
   a graceful bone anklet
   a kidskin and wood bracelet

Nicca says in a throaty, genteel voice, "Next up, we have Cinandra!"

With a small, enigmatic smile on her lips, Cinandra emerges from behind the curtains, her posture straight-backed and self-assured as she strides over to the end of the runway, the somber sussuration of the myriad charms adorning her feathered cloak following with every step.

Nicca says in a throaty, genteel voice, "The main inspiration for the outfit was the idea of creating something that druid and shaman inhabitants of the forest would find desirable without picking too many cues from a city fashion look."

Swelling from the quartzy depths of a consecrated harp, the hushed, regretful melody of an ancient song momentarily fills the air.

Pausing abruptly, the golden links falling from the headdress give away, Cinandra's eyes momentarily unhidden as her mischievous gaze visibly sweeps the room before her hands cross about her chest and
she cants her head.

Nicca says in a throaty, genteel voice, "Subtle elements and ideas were drawn from the two classes while struggling to avoid being needlessly crude, trying instead to create something that would preserve both the rough and practical feel of the Wilds, but also its beauty."

Her smile becoming gentler, Cinandra gestures with a reaching hand, the emerald inlaid on her gloved palms a contrast against the crimson feathers of her cloak and the dark shapes on the ivory choker on her neck. Withut waiting for response, she snaps her feet against the floor, and the bells upon her anklet chime a warning tone.

Turning briskly and stepping away, Cinandra lifts a hand in what might be farewell, the snowy linen of her gloves hiding and revealing the bloody runes of her armband. Glancing behind her shoulder, another secretive smile flits on her lips, and she is gone behind the curtain.

Nicca says in a throaty, genteel voice, "A forestal after my own heart...Cinandra!"

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Nicca says in a throaty, genteel voice, "And last but certainly not least..."

Nicca says in a throaty, genteel voice, "We have Phereus!"

#5:
He is a horned satyr. He is just slightly too tall, shoulders just a bit too tense, and stance
unnecessarily ready, as if to welcome some nonexistent mounting battle. His rugged yet sharp-
featured visage is accented by a well groomed goatee, and the expression thereon speaks of
excessively solemn stoicism. Within his fierce blue eyes are hints of vacancy, telling either of
deep contemplation or juvenile obliviousness. Two pointed horns about the length of a finger grow
upward through a mess of brown hair. His broad, humanoid upper body is strong and lean, while his
caprine legs are masked by thick brown fur.

He is wearing:
   a tough brown explorer's leather jacket
   a smooth cream-coloured silk shirt
   fitted green snakeskin trousers
   sturdy brown adventuring boots
   a silver ring of intertwining vines
   a jewelled silver pendant depicting the Great Oak

Containers:
   a canvas backpack

Misc:
   a gilded crossbow

Phereus emerges confidently from the curtains and stops, chin held defiantly high, resting his
weight slightly to one side. Betraying a self-assured smirk, he gives a quick tug on the collars of
his dark brown jacket.

Nicca says in a throaty, genteel voice, "The inspiration for this outfit was combining fashion and function. An adventurer's outfit should be practical and sturdy, but why can't it still have an element of style and flair?"

Phereus struts boldly down the runway, one hand resting upon his hip, the cuff of his jacket rising slightly to reveal a loose silver chain bracelet from which dangle several charms. From his other hand, flashes of light wink from a glimmering ring of intertwining vines.

Nicca says in a throaty, genteel voice, "Practical features like the sheathe on the boot or the pockets sewn inside the jacket help the adventurer or explorer survive in tougher conditions."

At the end of the runway, Phereus pauses and opens his jacket slightly to show off a luminous engraved pendant and shirt underneath. With a courageous air, he holds one hand to his brow and casts a reaching gaze, searching the horizon.

Nicca says in a throaty, genteel voice, "Fitted tailoring and coordinated jewellery add fashion to the function."

Turning on his heel, Phereus strikes a powerful pose, showing off the remarkable effect of tailored snakeskin trousers, before striding back down the runway.

Nicca says in a throaty, genteel voice, "That was certainly -fit- for any discerning man."

Winners:

[Nobles] Lucine (Seraya and Elstan)
[Adventurers] Seara (Lisara and Alarke)