This is a literate roleplay, if you are interested in playing with me, and the others who are interested in this story you must be willing and capable of writing descriptive multi-paragraph posts. With that being said the posts don't have to span a page either, use your own discretion.
Be the model ideal of propriety and deportment, meaning do not auto anyone else's characters (move them or kill them or any other nasty stuff) without asking. Be nice OOC to our community, I like that and will pat you on the head for every nice word you say.
I'm looking for people who will stay involved, posting once or twice or more a day, though maybe less depending on the flow of the group. Keep us posted as to your comings and goings as well, it counts as niceness.
Send me a message if you want to get involved, detail your character to me in whatever format you would like and persuade me you're a good fit for this world.
The time is now, though the reality of this place is so far from our waking minds. The caves beneath the earth, a sprawling connection of mother earths veins. The dark reaches, where hell sends those unfit for the likes of the sun. Some, who lived there believed it hell. Being beyond their understanding to imagine how it came to be.
Folk of every sort, some, who slipped through the cracks of the surface, others born in the dark like rats and raised to the tragedy of the world around them. There was love to be had, certainly, it is hard to miss something you have never had. The wind on your face, the brilliant rose of the sun touching your skin, the smell of fresh foliage sprouting and blooming.
But it was not the place alone which brewed their sadness, no. Spare villages of kind folk scattered there and here would be found to the persistent traveller, but also tribes of brooding and cultish raiders, savages, cannibals, and other things.. Things that crawled into the deepest bowels of the rock and waited for their madness to strengthen them, feeding on what was left of burnt villages and broken dreams. Children who wandered to far from their homes. Yes, this was where the sadness cultivated until it throbbed from the soul like a slow and broken drum. This was why the few rivers which turned were as cold as the tears of a thousand mothers' loss.
Hawthora was one of these villages. Good folk, mainly. Innocence was still to be found here, a school founded by a teacher whom had fallen to this world. A guard of strong and capable enough men. Yes, good enough people, yet the dark still surrounded them. The dark would have them still.
Hawthora and it's love.
This roleplay is expected to attract those into the darker things, bondage, etc. Though we accept anyone and everyone who believes this is to their liking and specifications. I hope you find yourself well, and I hope to see you in Carnatia