Arcadian
Dragoness
So this is the beginning I have worked out for a detailed RP. I want this to deal with politics head-on and tackle controversial issues like women's rights in a medieval setting, and I do plan for this to get a little weighty. There is also a lot more going on behind the scenes that people don't know about, and depending on your character I do have secret information to pass on about what really was going on, the true nature of Cooper's death, who actually fathered who, and so on. This is the beginning from Sabine's perspective, so she's going off of what she knows to be true, which is all public information.
With a rumpled dress and a lopsided gait, Sabine rose from her chair and approached the throne, giving it her best attempt at grace. It was a large throne, cold and imposing. It was far too large for the shriveled and shrunken king perched upon it, with gaunt legs dangling down and a tacky gold staff taller than him resting to his right. The sunset streamed through the windows behind it, perfectly designed for ceremonies like this.
The applause was deafening, yet she could still make out a few voices, and realize which were absent. Her Cooper, as always, was the loudest, cheering on his beloved with zeal and excitement. She could hear some polite, if ragged cries from her siblings. Her eldest brother, James, much like her mother Diane, remained sternly silent. Her father, Bruno, encouraged her younger brother Adam and sister Adele to show some measure of support, calling out their congratulations. David was showing restraint, only crying out a gentlemanly “huzzah!” when she finally kneeled down.
The rest of the crowd, mostly various nobility Sabine had some distant knowledge of but no real care for, gave their cries as well. Some celebrated this new era of female knighthood, yet others reviled it. As in all of life, there were the liberals and the conservatives. Sabine had learned that early in her own life, coming from a divided family. As the overlong staff tapped tentatively down on her shoulders, Sabine bowed her head. She could do this, she had to remind herself. She rose, shaking just as hard as the frail old king, and walked back down the aisle, out of public view.
She tore her shoes off and threw them at the wall. They were painful, they were hard to walk in, and worst of all, they were forced upon her. The spindling heel of the left shattered upon contact with the wall, but the right bounced harmlessly off.
“It’s not fair!” she cried, alone and barefooted. She had never seen a knight be forced to wear a bustled ball gown and the season’s latest heels to their ceremony. They got to wear armor, even if it was only ceremonial. She would have consented to wearing even the ungodly gold vanity plate, despite it being utterly useless in an actual battle. She had dreamed of wearing a simple silver chainmail, long hair coiled around her head in a gentle braid. Her only vanity was to be a small silver hairpin with the smallest of red rubies, a symbol of her house.
But Sabine had been told not to stir already boiling waters, and to the equal chagrin of both her and her seamstress, she was forced and sewed into some hideous green thing with a ridiculous skirt that made it impossible to move and sleeves designed for arms used in needlework, not fighting, that was all half a size too tight and sewn with equal parts pity and spite. She could barely breathe in the horrible thing, much less move comfortably. She was terrified to address the men she would command in this. Commanders should not wear dresses, or if they do it should be some silly stunt for morale. She’d seen that before, and it worked very well. Now a general, then lowly Captain David Lamarck was famous for it.
She steeled herself for a moment as she took account of the situation. She was barefooted, on the very precipice of tears, and she heard footsteps coming. She rolled her shoulders back, picked up her now broken shoes, and turned to face the intruder.
“Cooper!” Shoes still in hand, she flung her arms around him, and quite by accident knocked him in the head with the very sharp edge of a broken heel. Unaware he was bleeding, her heart swelled with affection. Greg Cooper, son of a long line of barrel makers, had been her right hand, her sword arm, since the first few days of her shaky command of a militia little more than bandits on the borders she was banished to. He was also her fiancé, but that bit was complicated. She’d also been promised at birth to someone else, but she never really intended to marry David anyway. It was one of the palace’s worst-kept secrets.
She babbled at him, telling him how nervous she was, holding him in her arms. She spoke a million words a minute, hoping that somehow saying it out loud would make it less real. He slumped and she hugged him ever tighter, oblivious to his last cry for help. She was utterly enveloped in her own fear, terrified of how this would end, terrified of how it could all fall apart. But in a moment, time seemed to stop, and she saw his blood trickling down her hands, onto her gentle silk shoes, and out the back of his head.
“His scar…” Sabine whispered. Foolish, foolish woman, she should have remembered all the blows to the head he had taken, all the battles they had fought side by side, she chided herself.
“I’m sorry, Cooper, I didn’t mean to…” she began, thinking she’d just scratched him, but as she saw his eyes she knew. She’d killed before, and she knew when a man was dead. Panic overcame her. She’d killed her lover after just being knighted. It would look like murder, she knew. Any moment, people would be here, to help her celebrate and prepare for her first formal address. Any moment, she would have to explain why her betrothed was dead and his blood was on her hands and on her shoes.
I am looking for a fairly large group here. I want people to play a variety of people, but I have a list A and a list B. List A tells who people are, ex David, the mom, so on, and list B tells what part they play in the story, ex the murderer, the heir, the soldier she once knew, so on. Parts from list A and list B, and even list B and list B, but never A and A, may overlap and I will PM people once they ask for a part and let them know if they have a corresponding part on the other list.
I do want to stress that this is a detailed RP. I am looking for dedicated writers who are confident in their abilities to drop thinly veiled hints and help build the intrigue and solve the murder (or at this point discover the murder.)
List A
Sabine (large role)
David (large role)
Mother (large role)
Father (medium role)
Adele (entirely optional)
Adam (almost entirely optional)
James (small role)
Unnamed palace healer (can be a small or large role)
Unnamed king (very small role and will be killed)
Unnamed queen (small role and killable character)
Unnamed foreign emissary (can be a small or large role)
List B
The Murderer (obviously large role)
The Actual Murderer (also obviously large role)
The Secret Heir (small role now, will become important later)
The Grandmaster pulling the strings (large role)
The Ambitious Politician (large role)
The Servant (smallish role)
The Stalker (medium role)
The Mage (large role, and please note magic is NOT common in this realm)
The Skeptic (medium role)
Obviously not every role needs to be filled and if you have some ideas for other roles feel free to request them! I am looking for a co-GM to help me run this as it's very ambitious. If anyone has any suggestions or whatnot also feel free to contribute! Once I get a co-GM and a couple interested people I'll start this up.
With a rumpled dress and a lopsided gait, Sabine rose from her chair and approached the throne, giving it her best attempt at grace. It was a large throne, cold and imposing. It was far too large for the shriveled and shrunken king perched upon it, with gaunt legs dangling down and a tacky gold staff taller than him resting to his right. The sunset streamed through the windows behind it, perfectly designed for ceremonies like this.
The applause was deafening, yet she could still make out a few voices, and realize which were absent. Her Cooper, as always, was the loudest, cheering on his beloved with zeal and excitement. She could hear some polite, if ragged cries from her siblings. Her eldest brother, James, much like her mother Diane, remained sternly silent. Her father, Bruno, encouraged her younger brother Adam and sister Adele to show some measure of support, calling out their congratulations. David was showing restraint, only crying out a gentlemanly “huzzah!” when she finally kneeled down.
The rest of the crowd, mostly various nobility Sabine had some distant knowledge of but no real care for, gave their cries as well. Some celebrated this new era of female knighthood, yet others reviled it. As in all of life, there were the liberals and the conservatives. Sabine had learned that early in her own life, coming from a divided family. As the overlong staff tapped tentatively down on her shoulders, Sabine bowed her head. She could do this, she had to remind herself. She rose, shaking just as hard as the frail old king, and walked back down the aisle, out of public view.
She tore her shoes off and threw them at the wall. They were painful, they were hard to walk in, and worst of all, they were forced upon her. The spindling heel of the left shattered upon contact with the wall, but the right bounced harmlessly off.
“It’s not fair!” she cried, alone and barefooted. She had never seen a knight be forced to wear a bustled ball gown and the season’s latest heels to their ceremony. They got to wear armor, even if it was only ceremonial. She would have consented to wearing even the ungodly gold vanity plate, despite it being utterly useless in an actual battle. She had dreamed of wearing a simple silver chainmail, long hair coiled around her head in a gentle braid. Her only vanity was to be a small silver hairpin with the smallest of red rubies, a symbol of her house.
But Sabine had been told not to stir already boiling waters, and to the equal chagrin of both her and her seamstress, she was forced and sewed into some hideous green thing with a ridiculous skirt that made it impossible to move and sleeves designed for arms used in needlework, not fighting, that was all half a size too tight and sewn with equal parts pity and spite. She could barely breathe in the horrible thing, much less move comfortably. She was terrified to address the men she would command in this. Commanders should not wear dresses, or if they do it should be some silly stunt for morale. She’d seen that before, and it worked very well. Now a general, then lowly Captain David Lamarck was famous for it.
She steeled herself for a moment as she took account of the situation. She was barefooted, on the very precipice of tears, and she heard footsteps coming. She rolled her shoulders back, picked up her now broken shoes, and turned to face the intruder.
“Cooper!” Shoes still in hand, she flung her arms around him, and quite by accident knocked him in the head with the very sharp edge of a broken heel. Unaware he was bleeding, her heart swelled with affection. Greg Cooper, son of a long line of barrel makers, had been her right hand, her sword arm, since the first few days of her shaky command of a militia little more than bandits on the borders she was banished to. He was also her fiancé, but that bit was complicated. She’d also been promised at birth to someone else, but she never really intended to marry David anyway. It was one of the palace’s worst-kept secrets.
She babbled at him, telling him how nervous she was, holding him in her arms. She spoke a million words a minute, hoping that somehow saying it out loud would make it less real. He slumped and she hugged him ever tighter, oblivious to his last cry for help. She was utterly enveloped in her own fear, terrified of how this would end, terrified of how it could all fall apart. But in a moment, time seemed to stop, and she saw his blood trickling down her hands, onto her gentle silk shoes, and out the back of his head.
“His scar…” Sabine whispered. Foolish, foolish woman, she should have remembered all the blows to the head he had taken, all the battles they had fought side by side, she chided herself.
“I’m sorry, Cooper, I didn’t mean to…” she began, thinking she’d just scratched him, but as she saw his eyes she knew. She’d killed before, and she knew when a man was dead. Panic overcame her. She’d killed her lover after just being knighted. It would look like murder, she knew. Any moment, people would be here, to help her celebrate and prepare for her first formal address. Any moment, she would have to explain why her betrothed was dead and his blood was on her hands and on her shoes.
I am looking for a fairly large group here. I want people to play a variety of people, but I have a list A and a list B. List A tells who people are, ex David, the mom, so on, and list B tells what part they play in the story, ex the murderer, the heir, the soldier she once knew, so on. Parts from list A and list B, and even list B and list B, but never A and A, may overlap and I will PM people once they ask for a part and let them know if they have a corresponding part on the other list.
I do want to stress that this is a detailed RP. I am looking for dedicated writers who are confident in their abilities to drop thinly veiled hints and help build the intrigue and solve the murder (or at this point discover the murder.)
List A
Sabine (large role)
David (large role)
Mother (large role)
Father (medium role)
Adele (entirely optional)
Adam (almost entirely optional)
James (small role)
Unnamed palace healer (can be a small or large role)
Unnamed king (very small role and will be killed)
Unnamed queen (small role and killable character)
Unnamed foreign emissary (can be a small or large role)
List B
The Murderer (obviously large role)
The Actual Murderer (also obviously large role)
The Secret Heir (small role now, will become important later)
The Grandmaster pulling the strings (large role)
The Ambitious Politician (large role)
The Servant (smallish role)
The Stalker (medium role)
The Mage (large role, and please note magic is NOT common in this realm)
The Skeptic (medium role)
Obviously not every role needs to be filled and if you have some ideas for other roles feel free to request them! I am looking for a co-GM to help me run this as it's very ambitious. If anyone has any suggestions or whatnot also feel free to contribute! Once I get a co-GM and a couple interested people I'll start this up.
