New RP: The Greywraith Clan
Pages
| Author | Topic: New RP: The Greywraith Clan |
|---|---|
|
Agent
Member # 27
|
written Thursday, October 23 2003 17:48
Profile
Boring title, Eh? Okay whatever, new RP. It will follow a story. On the small continent of Furya a tournament is being held. A contest between warriors, who battle for the title of greatest warrior in the land. The news has spread and many warriors from around the world have sailed to the continent to prove their strength and valor. A small ship sailing across the sea to the island has been home for fifteen eager warriors, for the past 3 months. Now the journy has come to and end, and the adventure has yet to begin. *Waves crash against the small ship as it sails effortlessly across the ocean. A sailor twitches in his sleep as a Swallow pecks at crums in his beard.* Sailor: "Hgf rnz," *He opens his eyes. Flailing his arms around he swipes at the swallow.* "Ay, ger'off me!" *Standing up the sailor brushes himself off and runs a hand through his thinning gray hair. After scratching himself, he jumps with realization.* "That was a land bird!" *Quickly climbing up the mast he grabs a telescope and peers over the horizon. A smile comes to his lips as he spots their destination.* "Hoy, land ho'!" *Every man on the ship quickly forgets about their tasks at hand and run to the bow of the ship, trying to get a glimse of land. In a few hours they would arrive at their destination. Little did they know what mysteries shrouded the island, and what was really in store for them...* OOC: A bit cheesy, but I haven't written a story in a loooooooooong time. Basiclly so this RP doesn't get too crowded I'm going to allow 15 people to join, including me, so there are 14 slots left. When you join please state what number you are, starting at 2. After fifteen the RP is closed to everyone, unless there is special permission from me.  Character - Name: Thompson Redd Class (Try not to be too bland): Skilled with all weapons but prefers the bow. Description: Average height of about 5'9, very muscular. His hair is brown and is cut just below his ears. He has dark brown and round eyes. He is a bully, doesn't like to work with other people, and he very rude. Also very vain. Story: Thompson Redd, a mediocre mercinary, is a skilled fighter, but tends to leap before he looks. He can't control his temper or his tongue, and that usually gets him thrown in the town jail for a week or so. He plans on winning the tournament to establish a better name for himself, and reap in the women, money, and beer. (Slight Spoiler) *Oh and don't plan on there being a tourament* -------------------- I be rockin' da paradise baby. Posts: 1233 | Registered: Wednesday, October 3 2001 07:00 |
|
Lifecrafter
Member # 3320
|
written Thursday, October 23 2003 19:22
Profile
OOC: Thank god. I thought this was going to be like Mortal Kombat for a few minutes there. You had me worried. I think I will alternate characters this time. I have already had two women. Time for another man. IC: Character #2 Name: Raitt (Pronounced rate) Cosgrove Eye color: Ice Blue Hair Color: Fiery red Height: 6'2'' Age: 32 Weight: 210 lbs. Looks: Terribly handsome, but he wears glasses and it tones down his appearance quite a bit. He wears blue jeans, a black t-shirt, and an orange cover shirt with strange symbols all over it. (I am referring to one of those shirts you have to button up the front the whole way from top to bottom. Specialty: He yields the ability to use two double-edged swords with deadly force. But he can use any weapon with great efficiency. He has a very keen sense of smell. If lost in the wilderness, he can live off the land because he is a tremendous horticulture expert. He also has two suitcases with him. He always comes prepared in case anything happens. He has a whole treasure trove of belongings with him. He has many other hidden abilities that he doesn't like to show off. Demeanor: He is normally very kind. He treats people in authority with great respect and only speaks when spoken to. Therefore, he is generally very quiet. He shows no sexual emotions at all. He is a lot like some of the English people from the Victorian period and some of today. He admires physical and natural beauty of all sorts. At night he can prowl around as quiet as a cat. He is an okay person to be around as long as you don't make him mad. When angry, he can slip into a psychotic rage where his chief principle is attack and kill now, ask questions later. Weaknesses: A good wine, affection for an alternate source, ancient artifacts, and a few other hidden ones he doesn't like to be known. Raitt is resting on his bed until he hears a sailor above on deck shouting that he sees land. He decides to sit up and look out the porthole. He sees an island very much like an island he read about in a book called Jurassic Park. But there are many distinct differences. He turns around and looks around his cramped little compartment. He grabs his two suitcases and decides to come back for his several duffle bags he brought with him later. The duffle bags he brought hold clothes and other such items. He has crates in the cargo hold that contain his many weapons. As he steps onto the main deck, he asks a sailor if he can grab his duffle bags from his cabin and carry them out for him. The sailor gives him a mean look and is just about to curse him out when Raitt tells him he will get a 10 pound tip if he helps. The sailor smiles and runs to Raitt's cabin. He soon emerges with all of the duffle bags and sets them down next to Raitt. Sailor: "Can I take them ashore for you too?" Raitt: "Yes. If you do I will throw in another 10 pounds." The sailor smiles eagerly as the boat nears the shore. OOC: Sorry. I used pounds because I thought it sounded more interesting. I forgot to mention that my character is rich. I await the rest of the characters to join. [ Thursday, October 23, 2003 19:24: Message edited by: Murder, She Wrote ] -------------------- Mrs. Peacock: "Everything all right?" Colonel Mustard: "Yep. Two Corpses. Everything's fine." "Keep your wits about you, the game is afoot!!" - Sherlock Holmes Posts: 935 | Registered: Friday, August 8 2003 07:00 |
|
Law Bringer
Member # 2984
|
written Friday, October 24 2003 00:09
Profile
Homepage
OOC: Okay, seeing as the last RP worked out so well, this time I'll be a little more daring. I'll make a PC from scratch (I made Eferas from scratch, but it was over half a year ago). This time I'll just post someone as he comes into my head (yes, he. I don't feel skilled enough to do 'cross-dress' RP-ing yet). Okay. Let me introduce Pthalos 'Rend-All' Vinasray, called Rendall for the occasional bouts of berserk rage that grip him, his most major handicap. (You may call him Pthalos or Rendall, each will do, but until you know him better you shouldn't use his nickname.) He feels embarassed as well as proud about this nickname, and when someone mentions it his reaction - and frequently the caller's life - depend on his mood and the tone in which it was said. If he feels he's being mocked, woe to the mocker!All right. Let's move on to the appearance. He's very nearly as short as his temper, reaching no more than 1.66 meters (that's five feet). He's on the lean side and carries barely sixty-five kilograms (130 pounds I think but am not sure). His general frame might almost be described as 'scrawny', but only very quietly and certainly not within a mile of his ears. His calloused hands are resting on a smallish sword grip, but as your eyes follow the outline of the sword down the scabbard, you can see that the grip is the only thing small about it - it's more than half as long as he himself is! In the bit of the blade that sticks out of the scabbard, the trained eye can make out the glint of burnished steel - uncommon for these times where the average adventurer's pay will buy you an iron shortsword if you're lucky. He inherited it; it might well be his most valuable possession. His face, like his arms, are quite tanned, but not brown. His stubby nose, and his large, protruding ears, once again, are among the many things about him that should not be brought to discussion by anyone except suicidal maniacs. Pthalos' eyes are brown and approaching almost black. There's a glint inside them that matches that of his sword as he fixes a steely glare upon you, and quietly mutters "Have you finished gaping yet, or should I just run you through now?" --- Now move on to some of his history: Pthalos was born about thirty-nine years earlier in a continent known as Parth on the faraway world of Lyr (I made that world up a month ago or so, almost finished the map  ).Pthalos already has had some exciting adventures behind him, most notably an excursion into a Chaos dimension and slaying really cool stuff. In his homeland, however, there's been a glut of mercenaries all the time during his career. While he managed to find some employment on the other continents, he has finally decided to leave this horribly boring, uncomfortably civilized world behind and seek adventure elsewhere. And that, approximately, is how he came to be on this boat. (forgive the wordiness, but I'm practicing for a writing competition right now and I need all the training I can get  )IC: Pthalos woke with a start. He heard a shout from one of the sailors, but did not immediately recognize what had been shouted. There it came again. "LAND! LAND ho!" In a matter of less than two minutes, Pthalos had changed his clothes. Before three minutes had passed, he was standing up on the deck and gazing at the direction that the sailor had pointed out. Indeed - a strip of solid ground was already visible on the horizon, possibly no more than a few miles away. Rendall got back into his cabin and took what else he had in the way of possessions. It was not much; just a worn overcoat and a small leather sack with another set of clothes, a few daggers, a healing potion or two... and of course the artifact that the High Priest Carhdon had given him after he had completed the quest in the Chaos dimension. A smallish unadorned ring, shining with the cold radiance of silver. he had never really gotten to test its power; he had run into no really dangerous situations since the quest that had earned him the ring. The priest had given it to him, while the priestess had said that its power lay in protection and defense. All right, she'd cloaked it into more words than that; she was an elf. Arriving back on the deck with his leather armor and his sword strapped on, his overcoat thrown over his shoulders and the little sack over his left arm, Pthalos leaned against the railing, waiting for the ship to close in on the island. OOC: MSW, when you said 'boat', did you mean the ship we're on? Because it might also be a small boat in which you left the ship together with the sailor in order to land. Common practice when a ship arrives at a place where there's no harbor, and the ship can't get close enough to land because of its depth. However, this island is inhabited and civilized, so I'd say there's probably a port. Ah well, I'd better stop rambling now.  [ Friday, October 24, 2003 00:14: Message edited by: Arancaytar ] -------------------- "And all should cry, Beware, Beware! His Flashing eyes, his Floating hair!" S. T. Coleridge --- "It is as if everyone had lost their sense Consigned themselves to downfall and decadence And a wisp it is they have chosen as their beacon." Reinhard Mey. --- Quote of the Week: "I have a high opinion of myself, which makes up for my total lack of intelligence." Anon. Posts: 8752 | Registered: Wednesday, May 14 2003 07:00 |
|
Shaper
Member # 517
|
written Friday, October 24 2003 02:05
Profile
The sailor sent to inform Aran of the ship's arrival spent several minutes awakening him from his meditation. Not overly willing to return to his duties, he was perfectly happy to wait while Aran opened his eyes and turned his head slowly to look at him. 'Yes?' 'Sir, we're in port. The captain sent me to tell you.' 'Thank you kindly, my good man.' 'Uh...will there be anything else, sir?' 'No, I have no need of assistance.' With that, Aran gets up and walks to the other side of his cabin, where his armour stands. Before he gets in, he takes a brief look at it-seemingly just normal plate mail, but so much more. The elemental armour is imbued with all the powers of immovability and strength associated with the earth, and more than that contains two gigantic glowing malachite falchions in concealed scabbards. Once inside his armour, Aran suddenly feels young and sprightly again, although that sensation of sprightliness and speed to him is not readily apparent to others-indeed, he still moves far slower than the average person, but compared to his deliberation out of his armour an increase in speed is apparent, and Aran revels in it. Making his way on deck, Aran ignores the odd glances thrown his way with the ease of centuries of practice. He knows that his almost seven feet are conducive to others' attention, but ceased caring long ago. Now he goes to the side of the ship, ready to go ashore on the launch. -E- -------------------- Let them eat cake! Polaris Boards: The System is Up. Perennially. Posts: 2314 | Registered: Tuesday, January 15 2002 08:00 |
|
Shock Trooper
Member # 18
|
written Friday, October 24 2003 08:19
Profile
Homepage
OOC: Ok, first Spidweb RP attempt, so don't burn me if I muff the rules. Character Name: Arch. Other Info: It'll come. IC: Arch had been holding the ship's wheel when the pesky sailor he'd relieved started jumping up and down and screaming something about a bird - and he hadn't been putting much effort into it either. Arch hated sailing, almost as much as he hated sailors, and after three evilishly salty months the sight of land just about made him want to bury the hatchet. Maybe. The only reason Arch had been at the helm was due to a slight magical incantation he'd had put on him during his days as a Royal Guard, one that enabled him to go without sleep indefinitely. Bored out of his mind at night, Arch had taken his hand to steering the ugly hunk of wood and had recently started amusing himself by trying to wake up someone to talk to by getting air. He was however, delighted to let the skipper retake the wheel to guide her into port. Besides, it would give him a better chance at being first down the gang plank and off the rotting tub of a boat when she docked. At that moment Aran walked onto the deck like a glittering steel tower. Arch himself found it cramped in the 5 foot high cabins, so it must've been brutal for the overly-tall man. Arch had grown to like the man in the months at sea, mostly because his meditation patterns often kept him up. Under that shiny silver and green armour Arch had found excellent conversation. And the occasional sparring match wasn't out of the question either. "Looking forward to solid ground again, eh?" Arch said as he spritely made the small jump off the aft deck. "Is Raitt rich?" He said with a wry grin. "Anyway, it'll be good to have some sure footing for fighting again. Maybe you can have a hack at me when we land with that ugly sword of yours?" Arch looked down at his most prised possession; his only possession. It was a fairly short sword, but it certainly wasn't ugly - Royal Guardsmen's swords were never ugly, especially this one. "One day I'll put a nice big ding in that bloody armour, you'll see." OOC: Ok, maybe it's a little big, but I'll be good in future. Sorry about using your char so much Omlette, but there was no one else to talk to . I'll be less talkative as soon as the action starts...Md. Posts: 304 | Registered: Monday, October 1 2001 07:00 |
|
Guardian
Member # 2339
|
written Friday, October 24 2003 08:44
Profile
I'll just reserve myself a spot until my character is fully developed. Name: Zir(Zer)Zite Hortyie Gender: Male Class: Swordsman Age: 26 Species: Human Weapons: 2 Blue-Double-Bladed Broadswords(Double-edged, of course.) Fighting Style: Blade Manipulator Height: A towering 6 ft. 6" Weight: 265 pounds NOT including equipment Appearance: A fearsome warrior, on his right eyelid there is a scar running from his forehead down to the beggining of his right cheek. He wears Roman-style armor wiht long breeches. He wears stell-toed boots, and moves slowly, but can maniplutate very quickly in order to confuse his enemies. Because of his swords being heavy, they don't hit as often as just one broadsword. He has steel sleeves. And his skin is pale. Weaknesses: He moves slowly, and has a very short temper and is impatient(Which is a deadly and sometimes annoying combo!). Strengths: More blades means it's easier for him to parry. I'll bring him in later. For I'm sick today... -------------------- This is MY link. Click here,or here for the yoga dance mix!Click here to get to the misc. boards! Attack, icons, attack!THIS PAGE ROCKS!! Vicious virus stalks the web, has already infected over 140 computers: read more! We have tried to not harm anything in the making of this commercial, but we failed miserably. One Small Step for man, one giant leap(SHCKXXXXXX)STOP POKING ME!!! -Starcraft Observers R.I.P-Here lies NSI, may this rp be remembered. Posts: 1779 | Registered: Monday, December 9 2002 08:00 |
|
Lifecrafter
Member # 3320
|
written Friday, October 24 2003 09:53
Profile
Can we perhaps get some women in this. I don't mean to complain, but a group made up completely of men is rather boring. I would have been a woman, but I prefer to alternate my characters. So let's please get some women in this.  -------------------- Mrs. Peacock: "Everything all right?" Colonel Mustard: "Yep. Two Corpses. Everything's fine." "Keep your wits about you, the game is afoot!!" - Sherlock Holmes Posts: 935 | Registered: Friday, August 8 2003 07:00 |
|
Guardian
Member # 2339
|
written Friday, October 24 2003 10:24
Profile
OOC: I guess I'll give Zir 165 gold to start out with. And 2 healing potions and 1 curing potion. IC: *Zir was getting up in his small cabin. He bumped his head on the ceiling. The people nextdoor to Zir's cabin could hear ranting.* Zir: "Ugh, they NEED to make bigger cabins!" *He puts on his helmet(It DOES have the fuzzy thing the roman officers had, except his is aqua-colored. He then puts on the rest of his armor and put his 4 sheeths on his Broadswords. He tied the swords onto his back wiht a long rope.* "Well, hopefully we're near the port. I'm tired of hitting my head nearly every time I wake up!" *He crouches and walks out the door and doesn't stop crouching until he gets on the deck.* "Are we close to our destination? Because my swords really want to fight!" -------------------- This is MY link. Click here,or here for the yoga dance mix!Click here to get to the misc. boards! Attack, icons, attack!THIS PAGE ROCKS!! Vicious virus stalks the web, has already infected over 140 computers: read more! We have tried to not harm anything in the making of this commercial, but we failed miserably. One Small Step for man, one giant leap(SHCKXXXXXX)STOP POKING ME!!! -Starcraft Observers R.I.P-Here lies NSI, may this rp be remembered. Posts: 1779 | Registered: Monday, December 9 2002 08:00 |
|
Law Bringer
Member # 335
|
written Friday, October 24 2003 10:58
Profile
Homepage
Shern opened his eyes and quietly took in the suddenly crowded deck. After a moment, he uncrossed his legs and stood in one fluid motion, his well-worn leather armor creaking quietly. He walked over to the rail, peering out at the approaching shore as the wind ruffled his short, gray-touched brown hair. "We've arrived?" he asked a sailor. The man nodded, and Shern turned his eyes back to the water. He knew his teachers didn't approve of his coming here, but then, they didn't approve of very much that he did. He refused to let it bother him. He looked around at the heavily armed and armored warriors around him, inwardly sighing. It was only a matter of time before one of them decided that an unarmed man in light armor was an easy target. Such fights were always messy, especially when Shern had to alter himself to make the fight fair. He looked down again, noticed that the nails of his hand had extended into three inch claws, and frowned. A moment of concentration and they were back to their former, neatly manicured state as the man berated himself for losing control. —Alorael, who apologizes for not working on the gender balance. Maybe he'll have Shern absentmindedly enact an instant sex change later. Posts: 14579 | Registered: Saturday, December 1 2001 08:00 |
|
Warrior
Member # 3479
|
written Friday, October 24 2003 12:49
Profile
OOC:I've been in the Rp'ing mood lately, so I'll try this one too. Oh yeah, anyone can kill my character in the zombie attack RP. Zombie attack sucked. Description: Name:Taihen Otoko Weapon(s):His hands, feet, and head. (Jeet Kune Do, anyone?) Appearance: He wears a blue Chinese robe and a rope of wooden spheres around his right shoulder and under his left arm. He has a thin black moustache and goatee. His hair is in a Que (shaved, except a long braid in the back). IC: Taihen Otoko practiced silently in the cargo hold of the ship. When he heard the commotion above he went to the deck to find out what was happening. "Land!" Taihen was not very excited by the news. He was too upset by the trip's length to be consoled by this. He returned to the cargo hold to beat other people's posessions until they arrived. -------------------- -"Well, double dumbass on you!" -William Shatner, Star Trek: The Motion Picture Posts: 51 | Registered: Tuesday, September 23 2003 07:00 |
|
Guardian
Member # 2339
|
written Friday, October 24 2003 13:46
Profile
*Zir went to the cargo hold to get his potions.* Zir: "HEY YOU!" *Taihen looks at him.* "DON'T YOU DARE STRIKE MY POTION BAG!" *He stomps up to Taihen, pushes him aside, then puts his potion bag on(Like a belt.). He then goes back up on deck.* "After 3 months of waiting, the land is finally in sight! I will finally get to fight again! I haven't fought for 3 months!" -------------------- This is MY link. Click here,or here for the yoga dance mix!Click here to get to the misc. boards! Attack, icons, attack!THIS PAGE ROCKS!! Vicious virus stalks the web, has already infected over 140 computers: read more! We have tried to not harm anything in the making of this commercial, but we failed miserably. One Small Step for man, one giant leap(SHCKXXXXXX)STOP POKING ME!!! -Starcraft Observers R.I.P-Here lies NSI, may this rp be remembered. Posts: 1779 | Registered: Monday, December 9 2002 08:00 |
|
Shaper
Member # 517
|
written Friday, October 24 2003 14:08
Profile
As Aran smiled over at Arch, he wondered again why he had committed himself to this venture. Here was a man he'd actually grown to like...the first in who knew how long...and they were going to be pitted against each other in some stupid tournament, all in the name of restoring customs, beliefs so ancient that even Aran was beginning to doubt they could help the modern world. But what choice had he? If he did not, he might as well join the questers, the elementalists who sought death in combat with evils they could not hope to best, rather than admit that their order was dying, that their knowledge would soon be gone from the world forever. No, it was public recognition that would count. But why were the people only satisfied with blood? -E- -------------------- Let them eat cake! Polaris Boards: The System is Up. Perennially. Posts: 2314 | Registered: Tuesday, January 15 2002 08:00 |
|
Agent
Member # 27
|
written Friday, October 24 2003 15:04
Profile
OOC: We got about 7 people including me, I will start the RP now, but anyone who wants to join may do so now, just make sure that you aren't passed 15. We have 8 slots left. IC: The ship lands in port, and the warriors leave onto the deck, boasting of their victories and skills. There are many other ships at the port, all full of fighters, mages, and other warriors ready to fight. The port is very heavily guarded, and at the end of each street stands an official looking man. Our heroes walk down their street to meet him. Official: "Greetings warriors, welcome to Furya. I know you are all eager to get started, but I must first get you familiar with the stadium and our rules. Then I will take you to your rooms." *Following the man, they head to the stadium, and after a long hour of touring he leads them to their rooms.* Official: "That concludes our tour... any questions regarding the rules or where everything is?" Thompson: "Yeah, can I get a complimentary whore on my pillow every morning?" Official (Slightly annoyed.): "Yes well, good day to you sirs." *He slides a key into a huge steel door, unlocking it. He beckons the warriors inside.* Aran: "Don't we get a key for this?" *Official closing door*: "Sorry, but we can't let eager warriors roam the hall. Fights could break out." *The door is locked and the warriors lay down their belongings, slightly confused.* OOC: This is your last chance to join, you can just appear in the room. -------------------- I be rockin' da paradise baby. Posts: 1233 | Registered: Wednesday, October 3 2001 07:00 |
|
Guardian
Member # 2339
|
written Friday, October 24 2003 15:21
Profile
*Zir stands up to his full height. His head hits the ceiling.* Zir: *Loud ranting.* "WHY CAN'T THEY HAVE HIGHER CEILINGS!?!?" *He crouches down again.* "I bet someone here could blast the door right open...any volunteers? OR am I gonna have to bust the door open myself?" -------------------- This is MY link. Click here,or here for the yoga dance mix!Click here to get to the misc. boards! Attack, icons, attack!THIS PAGE ROCKS!! Vicious virus stalks the web, has already infected over 140 computers: read more! We have tried to not harm anything in the making of this commercial, but we failed miserably. One Small Step for man, one giant leap(SHCKXXXXXX)STOP POKING ME!!! -Starcraft Observers R.I.P-Here lies NSI, may this rp be remembered. Posts: 1779 | Registered: Monday, December 9 2002 08:00 |
|
Agent
Member # 27
|
written Friday, October 24 2003 15:59
Profile
OOC: good luck... IC: Thompson: "Stand back you weaklings. Let me have a go at this door." *Thompson braces himself then charges full force at the door poising his shoulder straight at the middle.* *He hits the door and there is a loud BZZZAP!* *A blue aura appears around the door for a second and Thompson is thrown back into the opposite wall.* *Raitt touches the door with his hand, and quickly draws it back recieving a sharp shock.* Raitt: "Looks like a forcefield, and a strong one too. We wont be able to get through the door my friends." Thompson, rubbing his head: "No ****." Arch: "The walls maybe..?" Zir: "Let me try." *Zir whips out his swords and lays waste to a portion of the wall.* Zir: "Easy as pi... what the hell?" *The wall immediatly grows back in full.* *They all stare at the wall in surprise. No one is leaving this room.* Taihen: "I call top bunk." [ Friday, October 24, 2003 16:00: Message edited by: Infuriated Slith ] -------------------- I be rockin' da paradise baby. Posts: 1233 | Registered: Wednesday, October 3 2001 07:00 |
|
Guardian
Member # 2339
|
written Friday, October 24 2003 16:07
Profile
Zir: "This may call for my ultimate trick! Stand back everyone!" *He spins his blades as fast as he can, then they start glowing blue! He charges for the door while moving his spinning blades in the Infinity sign(An 8 lying on it's side.).* "INFINITY SLASH!" *He reaches the force field and keeps his blade movement up, at one point, the forcefield is gone and the door is nearly shredded, but then the forcefield regenerates, but Zir is free!* "I think it might be easier to stop the forcefield from the outside...but I have to rest first, that trick always tires me out for some reason...but I can't afford to sleep!" *He nearly falls over, he leans on the forcefield and falls through. He is back in the room! He's asleep.* Thompson: "Great job...[/sarcasm]" -------------------- This is MY link. Click here,or here for the yoga dance mix!Click here to get to the misc. boards! Attack, icons, attack!THIS PAGE ROCKS!! Vicious virus stalks the web, has already infected over 140 computers: read more! We have tried to not harm anything in the making of this commercial, but we failed miserably. One Small Step for man, one giant leap(SHCKXXXXXX)STOP POKING ME!!! -Starcraft Observers R.I.P-Here lies NSI, may this rp be remembered. Posts: 1779 | Registered: Monday, December 9 2002 08:00 |
|
Shock Trooper
Member # 3238
|
written Friday, October 24 2003 18:22
Profile
Taihen reached for the top bunk, only to be swiped off of it. Apparently someone was up there already. "Hey, I already called top bunk," Taihen stated. But the person on the bunk didn't move. Finally, after Taihen shouting above everyone else, the person did get up to reveal themself. It was a man (Aww! So much for a female!), wielding a heavy steel tipped staff, blunt on both sides. He wears a dark blue cloak, which covered almost everything about him. A gold cloak clasp of the leaves of a tree kept the cloak together. His boots were a golden hue, and he had on silver gloves. He wore a cross around his neck. "My name is Gerhalt," The man stated. With that, he got back onto the top bunk, much to Taihen's dismay. Some of the warriors inside still wondered how he was in there in the first place. OOC: I was gonna put Rasil in, but he's still in my rp I made before. Ah well, this is a new character. History and stuff will be revealed later. Hope this turns out great. -------------------- "Friendship is two things: Trust, and sharing. I personally see it as a business opportunity." -Random Quote Posts: 203 | Registered: Friday, July 18 2003 07:00 |
|
Shock Trooper
Member # 18
|
written Friday, October 24 2003 19:24
Profile
Homepage
Arch got up from where he'd been sitting at the far end of the badly cramped room and started pacing. "This is so, so wrong." Arch mumbled. Everyone looked at him. "What do you mean?" Thompson said from behind him, still cradling his fresh bruises. "For instance, what kind of masochistic nutter invites a veritable army of elite mercenaries to a remote port for the largest tourney in a millennia, and then aggravates them by locking them in what could best be described as a cell? I mean, there's got to be at least five hundred other competitors here, surely we out number the garrison..." "Someone who's very sure of their power." said a sepulchral voice. It took everyone a few moments to place who had spoken, but once he had everyone's attention, he continued. "Someone who's probably not running a contest. Methinks friends, we have been lured." Gerhalt remained lying on the top bunk, unmoving through his oration. "If that's the case then I'm not really big on hanging around to find out. Someone get us out of here snappy so we can go and teach this psycho a lesson." With that, Arch sat down, drew his sword and started peeling one of the apples from the table in the centre of the room. "I get the feeling you shouldn't eat that." Aran said meaningfully. Posts: 304 | Registered: Monday, October 1 2001 07:00 |
|
Lifecrafter
Member # 3320
|
written Friday, October 24 2003 20:34
Profile
OOC: I need to make it seem as if my crates were delivered to the building. I don't like how the building went from having rooms to a cramped room. You can change this if you want, but my post will have rooms IC: Raitt carefully observes everything everywhere he goes. Here are his observations about the building. Upon watching some of the others try to get out of the building and then grumbling to everyone else about it in speeches, Raitt concentrates on trying to find his possessions among all the crates stacked in the middle of a room just inside of the door. He has apparently brought the most possessions with him to the island of any of the people here as most of the crates have his name on them. It takes him several minutes, but he eventually weeds them all out. He decides on a room at the other end of the building down the long corridor. He begins transporting them there and notices many strange things along the way. Almost every room he sees has people in it close to the main door. However, as he gets closer to his room, he finds less and less people in each room. When he reaches his room, he is surprised to see it completely empty. Nevertheless, despite the distance to the main door that he has to walk, his room faces the coast and the view is excellent and relaxing. He observes the size of the building. This building only has one floor to it but the roof must reach close to 15 feet. Oddly enough, it is only 8 feet high inside. It is at least one hundred five feet wide from what he saw outside and at least 175 yards long, judging by the corridor running down the center of it like the backbone of an animal. On each side of the passage, not including the room with the crates in it, there are at least thirty-nine vacant or seemingly vacant rooms along the corridor on either side. Including the crate-filled room, there are twenty rooms on each side and forty total. The building itself runs parallel with the coast as Raitt saw by his room. There are no electric lights, but instead, gas-powered torches lighting the hall and rooms. The doors all have locks and bolts of all sorts on them, in which Raitt observes, thankfully, that they are all on the insides of the doors. Each room appears to have a varying amount of bunk beds in them, with Raitt's only have one oddly enough. Many of the rooms near the door have as many as 15 or more in them. Each bunk in those rooms had someone on it. Each room has similar items in them though. Raitt observed these items present in all of the rooms. In each could be found a small bathroom with a sink, a bureau (dresser), a mirror on the bureau, a varying number of tables with varying number of chairs, a key on one of the tables that obviously goes to the door to lock it, a varying number of windows with titanium bars on each window, a few braziers, several 7-foot high shelves, varying numbers of tapestries, and a very large magically made icebox (fridge). (Seeing as they probably have no electricity, hence the gas-powered torches.) It takes Raitt a while, but he manages to get all his crates to his room in less than 15 minutes, despite the distance. When they are all there, he begins opening his boxes and checking the contents. Satisfied, he puts the lid back on each crate and begins surveying his room in detail. Having noted nothing unusual, except for the odd placing of the tapestries, he goes back to one of his crates and pulls out a set of metal pieces. He begins putting them together and when he is done, he has two 10-foot long clothes racks in front of his bunk and many hangers on them. He begins taking out his clothes and special armor and begins hanging them on his racks. Inside of ten minutes, he is done and both racks are almost completely full. He decides to rest for a few minutes before moving on the suitcases. He notes in memory that tapestries placed like this often have secret doors behind them. But being to tired to bother with that right now, he takes the key off of the table and heads out the door, locking it behind him. He is curious to see how everyone else is getting along with each other and their settings. OOC: There seemed to be a confusion as to what type of building we are in, so I decided to help clear it up a little. If this description sounds to corny, I don’t mind if you change it back to the original. However, my character is a loner and prefers to be alone. It seems to me that a huge one-floored building with many people in it is more mysterious than a small one-roomed building with many people in it. With its large size, there is the potential for hidden passages and such as I mentioned with the tapestries. -------------------- Mrs. Peacock: "Everything all right?" Colonel Mustard: "Yep. Two Corpses. Everything's fine." "Keep your wits about you, the game is afoot!!" - Sherlock Holmes Posts: 935 | Registered: Friday, August 8 2003 07:00 |
|
Law Bringer
Member # 2984
|
written Saturday, October 25 2003 02:16
Profile
Homepage
OOC: I'm going to make a prediction, because that's something I like to do. This RP will get to page 6, maybe 8, then break down in flames. Zephyr, don't argue because it's unnecessary, it is a *fact* that you are ridiculously god-playing your character. Not even Mancire was this bad, and he was half drake . And at least make whole sentences, it's extremely hard to read your posts.IC: Pthalos 'Rendall' Vinasray was getting angry. And it's a bad mistake to allow Pthalos to get angry, because he has only so much tolerance for angriness, then he explodes in a rage. Getting locked in a room unexpectedly was, while not one of his pet peeves, definitely a sure-fire way of getting Pthalos angry. He managed to restrain himself for almost ten seconds, which was almost a personal record for him in this respect. Then, he let out a furious shriek and launched himself at the door, a flurry of steel, fists and feet. He began to attack the door, hitting it everywhere with every strength he could muster. He got in about one punch and one strike with his sword before the force-field kicked in. Because Rendal went on hitting the door as minor charges were released, oblivious to the pain, it took quite a discharge to stop him... He was veritably lifted off his feet, he shot through the room whirling around, until he slammed into the other wall and lay still. Unfortunately for him, he was *not* knocked out cold. Unfortunate because it meant he took a run at the door *again*. In the end it took three of the others to restrain him. He was actually frothing at the mouth. He struggled for a few seconds, then managed to get a grip on himself. "Okay, so we're trapped in here except for that curious deity who seems to have stepped out with ease. Us common mortals still have some things to learn apparently. Let's just forget about him. "And I have an idea: They're going to have to feed us at some point, and I don't see how they're gonna do it without opening that door, if you get my point." OOC: Zephyr, you got what's coming to you. And if you open the door from outside in some impossible and illogical way, I'll scream. In CAPS. With exclamation marks!!!!!!!!! Thank you. -------------------- "And all should cry, Beware, Beware! His Flashing eyes, his Floating hair!" S. T. Coleridge --- "It is as if everyone had lost their sense Consigned themselves to downfall and decadence And a wisp it is they have chosen as their beacon." Reinhard Mey. --- Quote of the Week: "I have a high opinion of myself, which makes up for my total lack of intelligence." Anon. Posts: 8752 | Registered: Wednesday, May 14 2003 07:00 |
|
Guardian
Member # 2339
|
written Saturday, October 25 2003 07:15
Profile
OOC: I said Zir fell through the forcefield back into the room that he started from! At the moment he's asleep in the room in front of the door. His Infinity Slash drains his energy, making the attack not worth it becasue if it didn't finish off the enemy, Zir would be helpless. -------------------- This is MY link. Click here,or here for the yoga dance mix!Click here to get to the misc. boards! Attack, icons, attack!THIS PAGE ROCKS!! Vicious virus stalks the web, has already infected over 140 computers: read more! We have tried to not harm anything in the making of this commercial, but we failed miserably. One Small Step for man, one giant leap(SHCKXXXXXX)STOP POKING ME!!! -Starcraft Observers R.I.P-Here lies NSI, may this rp be remembered. Posts: 1779 | Registered: Monday, December 9 2002 08:00 |
|
Infiltrator
Member # 2242
|
written Saturday, October 25 2003 09:05
Profile
OOC: I give up on my Zombie Attack 2 RP. It's no where near as good as the original. So I guess I'll just join this. Character Name: Firedrake Class: Elite Assassin, proficient with lighter weapons. Description: Somewhat strong. Wears leather armor and wears a cloak. Blue eyes, Black hair. Story: Firedrake the Assassin is a skilled warrior. At an early age he became an assassin and honed his skills. Nowadays he's more of a adventurer than an assassin. He goes to the competition to compete. IC: I'll fit him in later. -------------------- "He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster... when you gaze long into the abyss the abyss also gazes back into you." -Friedrich Nietzsche Posts: 469 | Registered: Thursday, November 14 2002 08:00 |
|
Law Bringer
Member # 2984
|
written Saturday, October 25 2003 10:30
Profile
Homepage
OOC: Sorry Zephyr, I missed the bit where you fell back. I'll post another IC when the others post again. Enraged SLith, it would help if we knew how the plot is supposed to continue. Are we supposed to escape? Are we supposed to attack the guys who imprisoned us? Or should we wait to see what they want of us? To stay well in character, I shall have to make Rendall *extremely* angry once a guard shows up. He's so short-tempered that he might almost count as choleric. -------------------- "And all should cry, Beware, Beware! His Flashing eyes, his Floating hair!" S. T. Coleridge --- "It is as if everyone had lost their sense Consigned themselves to downfall and decadence And a wisp it is they have chosen as their beacon." Reinhard Mey. --- Quote of the Week: "I have a high opinion of myself, which makes up for my total lack of intelligence." Anon. Posts: 8752 | Registered: Wednesday, May 14 2003 07:00 |
|
Agent
Member # 27
|
written Saturday, October 25 2003 11:36
Profile
OOC: Most certainly, continuing the plot now that we seem to be ready. IC: After many hours of poking and prodding at the walls, they decide to go to sleep. Early in the morning they get a rude wake up call. *There is a loud noise, like a thousand hammers striking a giant gong.* *Everyone is immediatly thrown awake.* Thompson: "Whoa! What the **** was that noise!" *A spiritual figure appears in the center of the room. They recognize it as the official that had given them their tour.* Thompson: "You! How dare you lock us in this room, you ****ing *****. You better get out of here now before I shove this dagger up your ****ing saggy ass!" *The figure raises its eyebrow* Official???: (With a hint of sarcasim) "Well glad to see you are awake." Thompson: "What the **** do you want, waking us up this early." Official: "All will be explained, your doors are unlocked, please proceed down to the mess hall. Oh and dont forget your weapons." *The figure disappears and the door magicly opens. A bit confused they dress, and leave for the hall, not forgetting their weapons.* ***Mess Hall*** *The entire room is packed with warriors, all with the same confused and angered expression on their faces.* *Nothing seems to be happening, when a door opens and a large man enters the room, accompanied by guards.* Man: "Greetings great warriors, I am glad you came." *Some fighter shouts out* Fighter: "Who the hell do you think you are, locking us in our rooms like that!?! Don't you realize that none of us here give a **** about your city, and could easily destroy it! I wouldn't tempt us." *A murmer goes through the crowd* Aran: "He is right. This is very strange, no one would be that foolish to annoy hundreds of seasoned warriors. There is something wrong, and I intend to find out what." *The man waves his hands and silents the throng.* Man: "First I will tell you who I am. My name is Dern Gylus, leader of the Moon clan. We didn't want to let any of you out, lest you start a fight. We can't have our soldiers tired out, before a battle." *Everyone jumps in surprise at the word soldiers* Fighter: "Soldiers! Your soldiers! We aren't serving you, we came here for a tournament!" Dern: "Yes you did, unfortunatly that was a lie. I am sorry that we have decieved you, but we are in need of your services. If you would let me I will tell you of our problem." *There is a silence again, but everyone is fuming.* Dern: "On this small continent of Furya, there are 10 clans, who were at war for centuries, just to control this land. Fortuantly, we have finally been able to agree to split the land into seperate regions, and be at peace. But one of the clans has not agreed yet, the Greywraith Clan. Our alliance decided to kill them, and split up their share of the land, we could surely face them with our superior numbers. Unfortunatly we were wrong they overran the clans one by one, slaying each and every man, woman, and child. We are the only clan left, and we needed help to stop them." Fighter: "If they were so strong, why didn't they just kill all of you in the first place!?! What is so special about this land!?!" Dern: "They were never this strong, until they learned the secrets. This land is not just ordinary earth. We are sitting on top of a huge mine of stones, each holding an immense amount of magic. All of us wanted to harvest all the rocks, and find some way to take their power. No one has ever found out a way. But they have. And using that power they have immbued and augmented their warriors, summoned mass hordes of demons and undead, just to kill us all off." Fighter: "...And you wanted us to help you! Well forget it, I don't know about the rest of you, but I am leaving!" Dern: "I am sorry but you cannot leave." Fighter: "Why the **** not! Who is going to stop me!" Dern *pointing to each of the windows and doors.*: "They are. Prepare yourselves, the Graywraith clan is attacking!" *Creatures, who appear as men, but larger, jump down from windows and run through the doors. Their skin is black, and they wear only a grey jerkin and a grey cape. They have no hair and their eyes glow red. They each wield a glowing staff.* *Snarling, they charge the warriors.* *The men in the front fall immediatly, the clan members are very strong, and are expert fighters.* Aran: "Hmm... very clever." OOC: Yeah um... dont panic. You will kill these guys, but you cant do it alone. If you try to fight one wihtout help, it will kick your ass. Watch out for their staves, they like to melt skin off the bones. -------------------- I be rockin' da paradise baby. Posts: 1233 | Registered: Wednesday, October 3 2001 07:00 |
|
Shaper
Member # 517
|
written Saturday, October 25 2003 12:32
Profile
Looking at the ease with which the first mercenaries to meet the invaders perish, Aran reaches out a cautioning hand to his friends. 'Don't attack just yet. We'll do far better letting them come to us, and besides, we can watch for weaknesses.' 'It don't much look like these guys have any weaknesses,' replies Rendall. 'Nonsense,' replied Gerhalt. 'The very nature of the world proscribes them from perfection. If they had no weakness, we would not still be alive.' 'So they can only kill one at a time? Big deal!' 'Also, they don't look so strong.' Aran looks carefully at one of the warriors. 'Look at that man...the one sheltering behind the table.' 'Yeah?' 'Three of them are pushing it, but it isn't moving. Their strength, at least, has not been increased by this mutation.' 'And I think I've spotted another thing,' Arch adds. 'The staffs...they look quite hard to wield. I don't quite know why, but it looks like they have to apply almost as much force to stop a swing as they do to start one. Like some smartass mage somewhere said, "Let's make them ignore air pressure!", and didn't think about it.' Arch has only just finished, however, when the first of the clansmen reaches them. Aran steps forward and heaves up a bench, which he throws at the warrior. The full force of the bench crashes into him, knocking him down and pinning his to the floor. Before he can get up, Thompson is at his side, and his struggles quickly cease. But now four more of the clansmen are hurtling towards them... -E- -------------------- Let them eat cake! Polaris Boards: The System is Up. Perennially. Posts: 2314 | Registered: Tuesday, January 15 2002 08:00 |