Fantasy The Endless Night - A Gothic Dark-Fantasy Roleplay [7/8]

[EdwardDewey98]

Today is Markoth 12th, of the year of our lords 1678. And the 8th day of a mysterious event that has affected the Kingdom of Valion. I arrived to Castow three weeks ago, with the intent of starting a new life. Away from the Veranoir and its war with the Empire. With the help of my wife and her family, we have gathered a small fortune to take us away from that upcoming chaos. Castow was the only logical choice for us to go. Out of all the cities of the old Kingdom, it is the only one where they speak both Verancois and Ælgish.

When we arrived, we noticed that the local commoners, the Catanachs, were not exactly welcoming of us foreigners from Veranoir. But that wasn't exactly something of concern. Throughout the following two weeks, we've looked for opportunities to start our textile business. After all, we had the silver to make such investment.

But then on Markoth 4th, the unexplainable occurred. The sun did not rise, and the crescent blue moon from yesterday had suddenly become a full one overnight. There was no explanation for this. Soon, the masses began to panic, but the King's guard and the constables tried to keep peace. But with each passing night, it became clear that this was not a natural event like an eclipse. It was something far more sinister.

By Markoth 9th, the attacks had begun. There was talk of Vampyrs and Werwulfs attacking people in the night, and of new hauntings in abandoned places. The panic continues to grow. Just yesterday, I saw the Catanach commoners pull a woman from her house and beat her to death, accusing her of being a Vampyr. Everyone is losing their mind, even my own family. I see my children talking to the shadows, and my wife does not speak to me. She only looks back at me when I'm looking at her. I am starting to feel like there's countless eyes all over the damn house... Coming here was a mistake.
​

The Endless Night is a Gothic dark fantasy roleplay, inspired by various other dark fantasy books and stories such as Bram Stoker's Dracula and Sheridan Le Fanu's Carmilla, and video games such as the Darkest Dungeon, the Dark Souls series, and Bloodborne. It takes place in the city of Castow, located in the prosperous Kingdom of Valion. However, the sun hasn't come up in several weeks, and now a blue moon has risen over the continent. Vampyrs and Werwulfs prey on the innocent, ghastly figures can be seen in the darkest corners of the city, humans attack the innocent regardless as to if they are creatures of the night or not, and there's talk of impossible horrors down bellow. The players would take the role of a group of volunteers, trying to help Church of All Saints by solving various cases related to supernatural entities. They can be humans, vampyrs, werwulfs, or doppelgangers of nearly any background: from the lowest urchin, to a well-renowned minor count or baron. We have 3 confirmed players, and we are looking for 5 more. It is currently unknown when we would start, but it will happen sometime soon.

To create your character, you must use the character sheet down bellow. If you have questions regarding the nationality of your character, just use the wiki link. As stated before, only Humans, Vampyrs, Werwulfs, and Doppelgangers are available to the players. If you have any questions, you can ask them here and I'll gladly answer them. Once you are done with your character sheet, post it. And if everything is in order, you are free to send me a private message about joining our discord group where I'll constantly update the players on new posts. I'll update this thread in the case we lose a player, for those who are still interested.

The wiki of the setting, it has nearly all the information you need: The Endless Night Wiki

Players [8/8]:
• Octavia Lascar by Infab
• Valko Văduva by K0mori
• Fulstan Schroder by Humble1
• Raili Ilves by Radley
• Hannalore Szabastya by Emperor Sagan
• Asher Azarnejad by joshuadim
• Unnamed by ithinkcat
• Unnamed by FloweryMuffin

Character Sheet:

Name:
Picture:
Race:
Gender:
Age:
Nationality:
Bio:

Example:

Tremeur de Gaulle

Race: Human
Gender: Male
Age: 30
Nationality: Valionese
Bio: Tremeur de Gaulle is a hunter, and a member of the Hunting Order. They are tasked with hunting down Werwulfs, Vampyrs, and any other creature of the night that wishes to harm the population of Castow. Not much is known about Tremeur's personal life. He was born in the distant village of Gaulle to a couple of sheep herders, and it is there where he lived a relatively easy life. Tremeur left Gaulle at the age of 19, when a few members of the Hunting Order came to the village to recruit volunteers for a werwulf hunting job. While he performed poorly during that hunt (his facial scars proving that), the leader of the Hunters approved of Tremeur's bravery and drive. He offered the young man to join them in their hunts throughout Castow. The young Catanach didn't even consider anything else, jumping at the opportunity. And after saying goodbye to those in his family, he left with the hunters to journey to Castow without looking back.

"I cannot make you understand. I cannot make anyone understand what is happening inside me. I cannot even explain it to myself."

 

[Infab]

Name:
Octavia Lascar

Picture:


Race:
Human

Gender:
Female

Age:
27

Nationality:
The Kingdom of Gitova

Bio:

Forgetting one's past sometimes is the hardest thing one can do. For some, though, its fairly easy. For a select few, however, it happens without warning. Be it a mind altering disease, or some damnable creature of the darkness of the night. Or, it may just take a simple crack across the head. In Octavia's case, that was what did it. Bits and pieces come to the forefront, such as being born in central Gitova. The eldest daughter of artisan parents, living under the rule of the Vampyr King. She was still fairly young too, her appearance in mirrors youthful and vibrant. She could still read, write, and speak a few different languages. Other memories, however were beyond her grasp.

Like why she was in Castow of all places. Alone. Lying on the floor in someone's guesthouse.

The memories would come back, in time. But she would have to work at it. And nothing tickled the brain like mysteries. After regaining her bearings, and finding somewhere to lay low in the event she was brought to Castow against her will, she decided to volunteer to assist in some local church investigations. Perhaps gain some divine assistance in her journey to regain what was still missing upstairs.

 

[K0mori]

Character Sheet:

Name: Valko Văduva
Picture:

Race: Vampyr
Gender: Male
Age: 32
Nationality: Kingdom of Alvanus
Bio: A quiet, brooding man, Valko was an immigrant to Alvanus in the spring of 1674. He had many unrelated skills and wouldn't speak much of his past or family background. He spoke with a thick accent which, along with his name, led some to believe he had come from Gitova, or perhaps the Kingdom of Vulgarus, and his overall lack of amity contributed to his immediate relegation to the role of unwelcome outsider. Some even believed him to be a criminal on the run, due to his unwillingness to speak of his past employment. Nonetheless, he persevered and eventually integrated into a secluded village, where he worked as a machinist, fixing tools for the somewhat large forestry operation nearby.

One fateful night in his first winter in Alvanus, Valko was outside his home to inspect strange noises he had heard while eating his dinner, when he was attacked by a vampyr and afflicted with the curse. Knowing that he would not live long if he stayed among people who had barely begun to trust him, he gathered his things and quickly fled the village, never to return. During the next few years, he drifted throughout the continent, moving about at night, attacking and feeding upon anyone he could catch alone in order to sustain himself, until he reached Castow. Now, as the city descends into anarchy, he has left a letter in front of the Church of All Saints, asking them to grant him amnesty in exchange for devoting himself to their goal of restoring order.

 

[Humble1]

Name: Fulstan Schroder



Race: Human

Gender: Male

Age: 59

Nationality: Empire of Volkmar

Bio: Fulstan was once a traveling astronomer, selling his services to the various petty kinglets and dukes that make up the higher nobility in the Empire of Volkmar. The patronage he received funded his experiments into the occult. He dabbled in alchemy, theosophy and esoteric readings of the great philosophers, all the while playing the role of an upstanding subject of the Empire. He founded, joined and then betrayed a string of secret societies. He pitted minor nobles against each other, reaping the spoils of their libraries as they fought.

One can only live so long like that before getting caught. Fulstan still isn't clear which of his many sins turned Volkmar against him, but he is now a wanted man in most of the scattered kingdoms. He fled to the Kingdom of Valion, let his beard go grey and changed his wardrobe from fine silks to humble wool. He now makes a living selling oracles and horoscopes to Castow's growing and superstitious middle class.

Fulstan has received many warnings that something dire was coming through his horoscopes. Locked in his own self-pity, he ignored them. Now dark times are here, and Fulstan is caught in the middle. He has forged an alliance with the Church of All Saints - an act of mutual desperation - offering his services as an occultist. Perhaps this is a path to legitimacy and fortune again. Or perhaps it is a path to redemption.

 

[Radley]

Name: Raili Ilves



Race: Human

Gender: Female

Age: Late 30's

Nationality: Kärkkian

Bio: A tall, slender woman from the northern lands of Kärkkäinen, Raili Ilves bears the features of someone who has not had the most favourable life. Not much is known of her past, but it is certain that she comes from the Kingdom of Kärkkäinen, specifically from the Village of Tervajoki. This can be ascertained as she bears the crest of their militia tattooed on her chest.

Her affiliation with the Order of the Path of Saint Arkhan is another matter entirely. She has been a well-known member for over a decade, showing fierce loyalty to their patron saint, Arkhan. She has traveled the western kingdoms since 1670, hunting werhobs with a zealous fervor wherever her holy pilgrimage has taken her. Over the years her reputation has started preceding her, and common folk hear tell of Riley Grin or the Eye of Arkhan approaching and scheme to use her blind fanaticism and hatred for the supernatural for their own gain. From the disorderly village drunk, to a corrupt sheriff or a gambler in debt, Raili has cut many lives short without so much as twitch of the lip. And for little compensation, as her obsessive devotion to the patron saint of dawn keeps her content.

If such a state of mind even exists for a woman that never smiles and whos only hollow eye portrays naught but antipathy and acrimony.

Her blood-soaked travels have eventually lead Raili to the city of Castow, where she has functioned as a dreaded executioner while the support for the Arkhanite path remained scarce. With the advent of the endless night and the citys descent into a maddening darkness, she has once again clutched her sacred relic tightly and resumed her terrible mission, this time under the reluctant blessing of the church.

"No matter where they hide or where they run to, the end of abyssal fiends are foretold in the rays of the rising sun."

QVI AMBVLAT MECVM. BENEDICTO LVMINE AVRORAE.​

 

[joshuadim]

Name: Asher Azarnejad

Race: Human

Gender: Male

Age: ??? (20s)

Nationality: Khoshkam

Bio:
With his old name forgotten after being chosen for the great honor of joining the Hashishdiyan, the now reborn Asher Azarnejad was but a child to a family in the Temple of Eternal Fire when he was taken into the fold and trained from his young age for his role in the faith. A master with the blade as he is with the heart, he has travelled the lands of Khoshkam to fulfill his role as a masked samaritan and judge, helping the needy and poor where he can while silencing infidels, lawbreakers, and most of all the creatures of the night that dared to hurt the innocent.

Yet one man cannot stand in the way of the heavens as the sun failed the rise and an endless night shrouded the world. With this sudden and practically apocalyptic omen appearing, the masses in Khoshkam turned to the Cult and the Scion of Light for guidance in these times. Mass prayers and ceremonies across every major town as well as to the smallest village became commonplace as members of the Temple were sent out en masse to guide the masses of the faithful.

Yet, what was undoubtedly clear was that the sun had not risen and this directly challenged the faith. And so, Asher was chosen to find an answer out by whatever means necessary. Having traveled nonstop in search of answers, Asher now arrives in Castow to determine if what he seeks can be found here.

 

[Emperor Sagan]

Name: Hannalore Szabastya



Race: Human

Gender: Female

Age: 34

Nationality: Duchy of Merkatz

Bio:
Hannalore Szabastya is a nun of the Church of All Saints, and has been for the entirety of her life, having been adopted into the Vyprzneka Abbey as a toddler that arrived on the steps on the convent during a terrible storm one evening. Lost, and without the ability to speak at the time, Hannalore was adopted into the society of nuns and spent her earliest years as a junior attendant - sweeping, cooking, censor burning - until she was of an age to take the vows as a young woman. Her aptitude in medical pursuits earned her a place among the more advanced hospitallers of the convent and she took to traveling the local region, visiting ailing peasants in their homes or traveling to the towns and cities to extend her services as a physician and midwife. Hannalore was well liked. Indeed, many considered her to be one of the most virtuous of Vyprzneka. She had wit, manners, and a smile that warmed the hearts of frightened children. Until she disappeared.

She was overdue by two full days for her return to Vyprzneka from a village that was only an half a day's travel away. Understandably concerned, the convent was organizing some local boys to search for her when she returned that evening during a frightful storm. There were wolves about, she had said. They had chased her into a tree and she dared not step foot upon the ground until she was certain that they were gone. Everything was well now that dear Hannalore had returned, but the following weeks demonstrated that she was, evidently, traumatized by the event. She had forgotten where the keys were stored. She could not recall the name of a junior attendant that she had taught how to bake bread to just days before she left. Her knowledge of herbs had seemingly advanced, though she had always been well learned on such things, or at least everyone agreed. One night, Sister Jova reported in confidence to Prioress Ignacia that she was all but certain she had witnessed Hannalore break her vow of self-chastity. Hannalore denied this, and so it was believed. Hannalore had never lied, had never once had a mark of disobedience leveled upon her.

Weeks turned to months. Hannalore had returned to her normal self. No more names were forgotten, or confusion when navigating the crypt. It was not long before she returned on her medical journeys and the region once again knew the graceful touch of Hannalore Szabastya. Nothing ever seemed remiss when she traveled in a group with other hospitaller sisters. On solo outings, which could last weeks as she trekked into the deep, dark forests of Merkatz, into the indomitable mountains alive with fog, many believed that Hannalore carried grace as well as suffering with her in equal measure. A child born blind and deaf, healed by a concoction of her making. The next day a farmer found dead behind his barn. When a bastard child had been born under a claimed immaculate conception, a priest turned up that night to confess his parentage, but not before begging Hannalore for mercy. A cobbler, distraught in the belief that his wife had broken her marriage vows, was so aggrieved when she and her lover were found dead in a meadow that he flung himself from the nearest belfry. It didn't kill him. Hannalore took the honor of amputating his broken legs - successfully - so that he could live.

Years passed, and Hannalore had become a specter of salvation and damnation in equal measure. Some adored her. Others feared her. When a burghermeister was found poisoned the morning after she attended to his gout, it was the last straw for some, and she was driven away. The morning after that, half the village lay dead from a poisoned well. Vyprneka Abbey was not without eyes and ears. Hannalore's disturbing wake had been questioned and debated behind closed doors for a long time. Finally, the decision had to be made. Hannalore had broken her vows. Involuntarily or deliberately, she was cursed. The day of her banishment was cold and grey. She left without any words or goodbyes to those she had known her entire life. Many were still heartbroken, some even questioned the decisions of the sister superiors. Once most of the sisters had filtered back into the walled grounds of Vyprzneka, the lingering few swore that they saw Hannalore turn and speak some words towards them. An anguished goodbye to her friends? To the place she called home? Such assumptions crumbled under the icy realization that the night the sun refused to arise was the one year anniversary of Hannalore's banishment.

Presently, she has appeared in Castow, continuing her divine services as a sister hospitaller.

 

[FloweryMuffin]

Name: Cecilia Santelli



Race: Werwulf

Gender: Female

Age: 28

Nationality: Solusian

Bio: Cecilia was an orphan hailing from southern Solas. She lived in poverty, which had made her more cautious of her surroundings, yet fearful, hesitant. She is rather harsh on herself for not being able to overcome her fear of confrontation, said fear having earned her the label of a coward.

There isn't much that could be said about Cecilia's life. She spent the better part of her childhood on the streets, living off of doing odd jobs for other villagers, or whatever scraps she was able to scavenge, until she was taken in by an old farmer who took pity on her, provided she worked on the fields. Her situation had improved, yet even if she was never to escape poverty, she was grateful for what little she had.

A few years pass by with no calamity to take note of, when one cold autumn night, her newfound home is ravaged by a werhob attack, killing her sort-of guardian, and leaving her seemingly unscathed, save for a broken wrist and some relatively shallow cuts. She had yet to realize at the time that said cuts were not merely new scars.

She lives on the streets once again, never hanging in one place for too long, drifting from village to village and to larger towns eventually. The curse of lycanthropy makes itself known soon enough, on the next full moon when she inevitably turns into a monster not unlike the ones who destroyed the measly farm she called home. It isn’t clear what had transpired while in her beast-like form, because when she came to she was lying in an unknown place, shaking and too exhausted to move. As months passed and her fears were intensified by her not knowing what happened every full moon and her mind jumped to the worst of conclusions, she knew she needed a cure, before whatever was happening caught up to her.

Strangely enough, the fear she hated herself for turned out to be the reason she stayed herself and the severe insomnia kept her just barely a hair away from giving in to bloodlust.

When she thought faith was out of bad turns to take, the sun didn’t rise again. It had been replaced by a full moon that had yet to set. The search for a cure to her lycanthropy had brought her as far as Castow, where she sought the help of the Church of All Saints in exchange for any service.

 

[Breadman]

Name: Yanitsa Stanimirova Zhivkova

Picture:

Age: 72

Nationality: Gitova/Vulgaris

Bio: Born a 3rd child in a small border town between Gitova and Vulgaris on a Saturday and named after her grandmother baba Yana. Subotnitchka they called her. A joy to her parents. Blessed to by the saints they said. She will grow to steer the course of the land her father always said. Her mother believed she would turn things around for the village. After all, those born on this day are gifted. Why should she be different? Maybe the king would see a new bride in her? They dreamed for her, but it was not meant to be. Yanitsa grew into a fine woman, but she wasn't interested in the prophecies and superstitions of her parents. Instead she focused on the more material aspect of the world. Her father's shop was meant to be her brother's, but Dimo had rocks in his head. She was the one who pulled the strings and made sure they stayed afloat, but her contribution was always downplayed in his favor and as she suspected in attempts to sway her away towards whatever grand design they thought she would play a part in. She could only resent them for it, but she hid it well enough. At the eve of her 28th birthday she had stayed up late to close up shop when someone broke in through the back. She tried to investigate and fell victim to a vampyr's fangs. She awoke soon enough however. Her head clearing up as she looked to the her bloodied hands, the body on the floor and the taste in her mouth. She had murdered kin, but she felt no remorse. Fleeing to neighboring Vulgarus, the gravity of Yanitsa's situation set in eventually. She had done an unforgivable act, could never go back due to the king's paranoia and was now on her own. And she wouldn't have it any other way. No more ties to superstitious nonsense, no more stones around her neck and she was outside his control. New challenges awaited her, but now she was in control of her life.

She was limited at first. Only her wits and the clothes on her back. But she would find those like her. The outcasts and the forgotten. A whisper here and a deal there and eventually she had friends in right places. Her father would be proud if the dullard bothered to recognize her affinity to mercantile dealings. Money was her way forward in life. It provided what she needed. Resources, contacts and blood. The undesirables did the trick. Kept the hunger at bay and allowed her to use her abilities to the fullest. Eventually her dark business took her to Castow. She had heard rumors about a potential substitute for blood being created, ending the curse of the hunger. Something like that would be highly lucrative if true. A king's ransom. Or queen's. Once disaster struck she knew it was only a matter of time before the locals would descend on her and others like her as if she took their precious sun away. Her options being limited as they are, if she had a sliver of hope to find what she's looking for, she turned to the Church. They might have more need for someone like her than they realize.