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BLACKJACK!
From Strife
In the wretched lands of Lumeria dwell millions of souls, scattered like so much dust in the wind by the Overture. The Talon Empire, known for its ruthless expansion and decadent progress is brought low by a mighty cataclysm, a pillar of order sundered in the name of greed. As the last knight abandoned his sacred oath to protect mankind, the howling of the wolves began. Things stirred in the darkness as Institutes and Obelisks, Spireguard and Runefangs were respectively abandoned, rendered inert, let roam, or simply sapped of essence. In the scores of years that pass, the night encroaches onto what few bastions of civilization stand fast; News abounds of the merchant cities of Beidan falling to hordes of the dead, seemingly without number or command. Great drakes make pyres of the so-called Ilyan Dominion, the inevitable but pale shadow of the old empire, while the Undercities are abandoned in the face of nightmares made manifest. From the desert come the damned, from the plains, scaled firebeasts. From the mountains, nameless things.
Your beginnings are humble, and in such a world, it is fitting. Defeating the merest undead is no small feat for the common man, and common you are. Perhaps you shine in one aspect or another, but are ultimately bound and marked for death; Such is the penance the everyman earns for the black miracle of birth. You are a part of the dying light of mankind, a species no longer welcome in their own home. Some venture for gold and glory, the baubles, trappings and ideals of the Imperial Age difficult to surrender, while others seek empty answers for questions long rendered irrelevant. Others still sally forth from desperation, unable to accept the death of all they know, thrusting blades into guts and drinking deeply to distract the fickle mind from harrowing reality. Whatever your cause, you venture together as one, a loose collection of ideas and beliefs held in unity by impending and total defeat.
So light the fire and keep close to me, as the snow falls thick, and the quiet drives a killer to his knees.
TL
R this medieval/fantasy setting is supposed to be dark, reminiscent of the Souls games. There are few specifics on the downfall of mankind, as rumors were the most prevalent form of information at the time, and players may slowly peel back the layers of time and violence to discover the truth about this cataclysm. Swords and sorcery are key, though note that sorcerers are few and far between, and are weak compared to the Scholars of the Empire during the golden age of man. Simple spells such as a fireball hurled at a hundred paces or the virulent growth of plants and animals may be used among the tiny mage community, while necromancy is abhorred... though by no means off-limits. During mankind's zenith, flintlock weapons had been invented but were rarely distributed or sold. Perhaps your character may have an old flintlock "Powder", which is high in stopping power but offers little by way of accuracy or reload speed. Above all, I want as much realism as you can throw into a fantasy setting. You're near the bottom of the totem pole in terms of combat prowess, and the forest shivers with untold horrors. If you have any interest in this RP, please fill out the following form.
In the wretched lands of Lumeria dwell millions of souls, scattered like so much dust in the wind by the Overture. The Talon Empire, known for its ruthless expansion and decadent progress is brought low by a mighty cataclysm, a pillar of order sundered in the name of greed. As the last knight abandoned his sacred oath to protect mankind, the howling of the wolves began. Things stirred in the darkness as Institutes and Obelisks, Spireguard and Runefangs were respectively abandoned, rendered inert, let roam, or simply sapped of essence. In the scores of years that pass, the night encroaches onto what few bastions of civilization stand fast; News abounds of the merchant cities of Beidan falling to hordes of the dead, seemingly without number or command. Great drakes make pyres of the so-called Ilyan Dominion, the inevitable but pale shadow of the old empire, while the Undercities are abandoned in the face of nightmares made manifest. From the desert come the damned, from the plains, scaled firebeasts. From the mountains, nameless things.
Your beginnings are humble, and in such a world, it is fitting. Defeating the merest undead is no small feat for the common man, and common you are. Perhaps you shine in one aspect or another, but are ultimately bound and marked for death; Such is the penance the everyman earns for the black miracle of birth. You are a part of the dying light of mankind, a species no longer welcome in their own home. Some venture for gold and glory, the baubles, trappings and ideals of the Imperial Age difficult to surrender, while others seek empty answers for questions long rendered irrelevant. Others still sally forth from desperation, unable to accept the death of all they know, thrusting blades into guts and drinking deeply to distract the fickle mind from harrowing reality. Whatever your cause, you venture together as one, a loose collection of ideas and beliefs held in unity by impending and total defeat.
So light the fire and keep close to me, as the snow falls thick, and the quiet drives a killer to his knees.
TL
R this medieval/fantasy setting is supposed to be dark, reminiscent of the Souls games. There are few specifics on the downfall of mankind, as rumors were the most prevalent form of information at the time, and players may slowly peel back the layers of time and violence to discover the truth about this cataclysm. Swords and sorcery are key, though note that sorcerers are few and far between, and are weak compared to the Scholars of the Empire during the golden age of man. Simple spells such as a fireball hurled at a hundred paces or the virulent growth of plants and animals may be used among the tiny mage community, while necromancy is abhorred... though by no means off-limits. During mankind's zenith, flintlock weapons had been invented but were rarely distributed or sold. Perhaps your character may have an old flintlock "Powder", which is high in stopping power but offers little by way of accuracy or reload speed. Above all, I want as much realism as you can throw into a fantasy setting. You're near the bottom of the totem pole in terms of combat prowess, and the forest shivers with untold horrors. If you have any interest in this RP, please fill out the following form.Character Name:
Age:
Combat Type: (Swords, Bows, Magic, Guns, etc.)
Phys. Description: (Height, weight, eye/hair color, etc.)
Bio: (Please be as detailed as possible, I love a good read. The deeper you go, the more story we can create. Two paragraph minimum.)
Age:
Combat Type: (Swords, Bows, Magic, Guns, etc.)
Phys. Description: (Height, weight, eye/hair color, etc.)
Bio: (Please be as detailed as possible, I love a good read. The deeper you go, the more story we can create. Two paragraph minimum.)
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