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Author Topic: Had a Few Ideas M for F  (Read 3140 times)

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Online IrishWolfTopic starter

Had a Few Ideas M for F
« on: February 12, 2016, 02:17:49 AM »
Had a few ideas rattling around in my skull and I figured I’d share. If any of them interest you, send me a PM

Newly overhauled, cleaned up and reorganized.

The following the plots designed for one on ones

I Hate Loving You

Death was all around and the end was near. Her warriors were skilled in arms and well tested in battle, but even such factors, counted for nothing against the many enemies. They had come over the mountains, a terrible host of grim faced men, numbering at least twenty thousand, more then two men for one of hers. The fact they had not yet been swept away under a tide of warriors, was a testament to the abilities of her veteran housecarls and the fyrdmen, long used to throwing back invaders.

But the battle was lost.

The flanks of the shield wall had been turned, her army encircled and fighting back to back, as the host closed in around them. Her warriors were on the verge of breaking and when they did, they would all be slaughtered, leaving the villages undefended. Never in over three generations, had her county been laid bare to the foe. And yet, it would be under her rule, that her country would be led to doom and destruction. The last of her line, to see the last days of her kingdom.

But, from the east, come the sounds of warhorns. Warhorns which had always heralded the arrival of armies and raiding bands of their ancestral enemies. Had the thrice damned horse lords come to mock her, as their bitterest of foes died under the blades of new invaders? But the horns sounded a charge. Had the old enemy joined the new? Not if the sudden cries of alarm and the lessening of the pressure against her warriors, was any proof.

What was greater proof and a sign of hope, was the sudden flight of two thousands arrows, which landed among the invaders, slaying those still trying to hack at her warriors or forcing them to turn about. The horns sounded again, mingling with the thunder of three thousand charging horses and the shouts of five thousand levies. First came the knights, clad in mail, baring lance and kite shield, smashing into the invaders, just after a second rain of arrows. The levies charging just behind, ready with spear, axe and sword, their shields round, like those of her warriors.

Attacked in the rear by an unexpected foe, the invaders broke and fled from the field of battle. No chase was given, her own warriors exhausted by battle and the old enemy from a grueling march. Instead, both armies looked at one another. For as long as they all had lived, they had tried to kill one another but here, on a field of blood and bodies, they had fought the same foe. From within their ranks, nearly thirty horsemen came forwards. Like the other riders, they all wore mail, carried the kit shields and were armed with lance and sword. Like the other knights, they all wore nasal helmets but unlike the rest, their helmets had a bronze sheet covering the face, with holes cut, revealing only their eyes. One sheathed his blade and reached up, unstrapping his helmet, before pulling it off.

It was him, the war leader of the horse lords, the Scarred Prince.

The man who had killed her father and made her the Orphan Queen.

The man she had met in battle and given the signature scar, running from above his right eye, down through the bridge of his nose and across his left cheek.

The man who had ravaged her country in uncounted raids.

The man who had just saved her life and her kingdom.

What demands would he make now or was this some plot of his cunning father, the Crippled King?
Not inspired by these pictures but once I came across them, they solid this idea in my mind. So I was thinking two smallish kingdoms, one based loosely on the Anglo-Saxons and the other the Normans, have been at war for generations, a conflicted started by their grandfathers or great grandfathers. They have fought all their lives, until a new enemy marched in. Where other rulers would watch with glee as such a fate befell their enemies, the Crippled King was wise or cunning enough to know, that any foe able to crush his rival, could crush him as well and thus send his army out, to give aid to the old enemy.

I don't have anything set in stone for the invaders, they could be based on another Dark Ages civilization or this could be a high fantasy story, with orcs and goblins or the like. But the main plot would be the Scarred Prince and the Orphan Queen being forced to work very closely together, to drive them out and make sure their lands aren’t threatened again.

There is the possibility of a forced marriage between the two or it could be more of a growing love/hate relation, as they fight side by side.

Made for Him
There are points in time, where different universes overlap, normally only for a brief moment. During such overlaps, crossovers can occur. A monster is seen, someone takes a blurry photograph of a strange flying object, something sinks a ship or in some cases, a mysterious disappearance happens. In most cases, everything or everyone is returned to the universe they belong to, leaving behind only memories and little proof but sometimes, whoever or whatever crosses over, strays a little too far from the point of contact between universes and is trapped in a world, not their own.

Such an event took place in a remote cabin, in the Green Mountains of northern Vermont. A being crossed over and was lost in a universe, where none of her kind, had ever existed, leaving her at the mercy of a man she both knew intimately but was a stranger to.

In her own world, she had been created to be the companion of a powerful politician. Not a free person but not a slave, as she had rights and responsibilities. However she was made to serve the needs of one man, as both a personal assistant and as a lover. His kinks were hers and her desires were his pleasures. In fact, her designers might have gone a little too far, with their attempt to create the best companion, as extended amounts of time without physical interaction with her human, has been shown to leave her mentally distressed and physically ill. Thankfully, this hasn’t been tested to the extreme, although there have been a few times, due to unforeseen delays, which have caused some concern.

In this new world, the man who in so many ways resembles her human, is not a politician, using the secluded cabin to get away from business and the media but rather an author. A rather good one in fact, with several different series, who likes living in the cabin year around and enjoys the quiet so he can write.

It was a quirk of fate, that in two universes, the same man, was watching the same storm, from the same porch and in a single clap of thunder, the only difference between them, moved from one to another.

So as this idea was forming, I envisioned the pairing as human male and anthro female but as she is a created lifeform, she could be a neko, elf, demon, ect. Anything not human. As for the species of the anthro, I was thinking something unusual or at least one that I’ve never had a partner play before.

Red Panda
African Wild Dog
Furred Dragon

Of course, dont feel restrained, this are just suggestions

Fleet Service
In the far future, mankind has spread throughout the stars. Once united, humanity has broken in dozens of squabbling factions, each with fleets of mighty warships. We’ve even encountered aliens, some who live as equals with their human counterparts. Such is not so in New Empire of Man. Non-humans are second class citizens and while those that serve in the armed forces are treated better, they will never rise above the rank of lieutenant. That is, unless they have a very powerful patron.

Nor do the common people normally obtain high rank. In the Imperial Navy, if you are not of the Blood, you will normally never make it higher then Captain, unless they are able to perform a great feat of bravery, are granted a peerage or have a patron of their own.

And there are such patrons to be found. Like Commodore Atticas Fyster. The son and heir of an Archduke, he will inherit the rulership of a star system and is on a fast track to admiral. One day he will be in the Admiralty, directing the movement of fleets or sit on the Imperial Naval Board. Anyone with his favor, will do well and go far in the Imperial Navy.

As such, his friends and relations in the personal office, tend to assign pretty female officers to his ships.

Eyes Like Mine
So I’ve been reading some Humanity Fuck Yeah, stories on Reddit and listening to the audio books for the Lost Fleet series by Jack Campbell, which is pretty HFY itself but they both got me thinking.

So, the dominate sapient life forms in the universe, are herbivores. The beings that have reached space, believe that sapience comes from the need to use tools and intelligence to overcome predators. Now and then, they do come across intelligent predatory races but those are always destroyed before they can leave their birthworlds. Humanity has been lucky, they discovered alien life before they found us. Human probes caught the destruction of another race by an alliance of herbivores, allowing us to hide, keeping below the radar, while our technology and military grew.

Many years later, as humanity readies itself, their scouts find another predatory race, about to be destroyed. These aliens, barely about to launch their first satellites, suddenly suffer bombardment from space, aimed to level their key cities. The herbivores not only want them dead but they want their world, so they can’t launched nukes or virus bomb the planet. Just a few rocks dropped from orbit, to crater cities, before the ground troops land to mop up. Everything seems to be going to plan, when a human fleet appears from the black of space. As ships duel above the planet, transports begin to rain shuttles down, packed with troops, ready to aid their fellow predators.

I was thinking the aliens would look like this

But if you have something else you would want play as, I’m all for it. For main characters, I was thinking human ground forces or marine officer and female alien resistance leader

Body Heat
The universe is vast, with uncounted stars and planets of every variation but even something as unfathomable, has some general rules. One such general rule, is where intelligent life, that which will create civilizations and reach for the stars, is found. Warm, mild weathered planets, tropical Edens in fact. As such, nearly all intelligent lifeforms are ectotherms, which is too say, they are cold blooded, relying on the environment for body heat.

Or at least that was the expected, universe truth, until Humanity and a collection of several alien races called the Coalition, bumped into one another. Humans took one look at their stellar neighbors and began giving them nicknames, based mostly on the reptiles from their homeworld, mostly because of their appearance. What took the Coalition off guard, were the conditions of Earth. Every member species would have considered the birthplace of Humanity a hardship world, if not a deathworld.

As the diplomatic niceties began between the Coalition and United Terran Nations, they began to exchange personal, to learn about one another. After a short time, if one is to believe the stories on the data net, Humans starting becomes very popular.  You see, very few spaceships and space stations could spare enough power to make the cold grasp of space, anything close to comfortable for the races of the Coalition. Most could only make the temperature survivable, which to humans, was only a few degrees below pleasant. Most of the stories tended be sultry, about seducing a warm blooded human, into sharing some of that wonderful body heat.

Space Madness
Space is vast, empty, cold and deadly. There is no fantastical way to instantly travel between solar systems. Oh humanity, in the few thousand years they’ve been traveling between words, has found ways to reduce the time it takes, from generations, to mere decades, of watching a star slowly getting bigger. Fully automated ships were tried but something important always malfunctioned or there was a hiccup in the systems or a line of code got corrupted. Human oversight was needed but it took a lot of money, to get whole crews to give up decades of their lives and they rarely made more than one trip.

Small crews, trapped in a spaceship, could also led to infighting. So something new was tried. Single humans, with heavily automated ships but the years of loneliness, drove many insane. So cryo-chambers were added for the pilots, cutting down the time alone, with the human waking every few years to run checks and maintenance. But the human body can’t handle being thawed and then refrozen a few days later. Pilots need to be awake for a couple of months at least and there madness lurks. Unfortunately, those that captain spaceships, their minds defenses are weakened by, what seems to them, the assaults of radical changes in culture and time.

But the companies that own the ships, seemed to have found a solution. Humanity has made great strides in other sciences, including genetic engineering, which has led to custom created humanoids, genomorphs, mixtures of human and animal DNA, sold a pets or servants. Buying one (or more) for the pilot, as a companion and more beneficially, as a constant in their lives, seems to balance them and protect their minds. Not to mention, finally being able to retire, relatively young, at least biologically, wealthy and with upwards of several genomorphs, without being driven mad.

Icebound Mercy

Long ago, before even the first legends walked, the first of men and elves and dwarves, along other races, crafted by the whims of the Gods, set forth to spread about the world of Albeen. This power of creation weaken the great beings, limited their abilities to influence the world they ruled. Their children wandered the primitive world, alone, save for fleeting visions, seen by those deemed as shaman, medicine man or spiritwalker, depending on the tribe and race.

It was savagery. Although the fighting between tribes would never reach the scale of the wars in the ages to come, once civilization was created but it was more terrible. Battles were fought by small bands, ruthless and cruel, there could only be victory or death. Combatants killed one another with their bare hands or with fire-hardened sticks and shards of broken stones. There was more quarter given or asked. Those who died might even become food for the victors.

However, not all mercy was lost in this barbarism.

One starving clan of men, who had been driven from their homes, managed to trap a great bull mammoth in a cave, during one winter. Such a beast would have normally been the prey for a whole tribe’s worth of young hunters but the handful of men, weak from hunger, had little choice. They needed the meat now or death would claim their females, their children and their few elders. While trying to slay the enraged bull, nearly half of the hunters were trampled or smashed, leaving those still alive, even less of a chance to make a kill.

When all hope seemed lost, aid came from a most unexpected source. A pride of hunting sabretooth cats arrived in the cave and attacked the mammoth, their great claws tearing open the wounds already made by flint lance and embedded arrows. But they could not slay the beast alone either, as the bull] turned it’s fury upon the pride. Working together, men and cats managed to bleed the great beast, until it was so weak, that a deathblow was easily made, leaving he hunters, staring at one another.

With great care and one eye upon the cats, the men cut away hunks of meat, from the mammoth’s shoulders, as the cats watched them back, slowly eating from the flanks. For nearly two weeks, clan and pride eat their fill from the carcass, until only the bones remained. The pride left and the clan moved one, seeking a new home.

This would have merely been a strange story, to be forgotten, if the humans in question, had not been the favored of the Goddess Yelia.

In return for this act, this unprecedented sharing of prey, the Goddess visited the pride and gifted them with new forms. This pride stopped walking upon all fours, their forepaws stretching and lengthening into hands, as their minds increased. Yelia used nearly all of her remaining influence over this world. to thank those beings, who saved her children and gained new children in doing so.

Humanoid, they made tools and fire, crafting leather and skins into clothes, much like those worn by the humans they rescued. For generations, life was as good as it could be, They hunted and fished, danced and mated beneath the moon, the very celestial object of their Goddess. Their children grew, the walls of the very cave, where the mammoth was slain, painted, showing their history.

But, like all things, this comfortable life came to an end. New waves of migrating intelligent races pushed into their home. Fighting for their hunting grounds, the pride slowly began to dwindle away. Hunters died before they could breed or train those to replace them. Without the Goddess’s touch, new illnesses, brought by the elves and men, cut through the pride like a terrible scythe, until one day, only two young females, just reaching breeding age and a barely weaned male cub remained. Knowing it was death to stay, the females left the old home, carrying the small cub into the wild, not knowing where they might find shelter.

However, they were not abandoned by Yelia. She visited their dreams, urging them onward, to go north, always north. So they went, push along by the divine, never knowing they were retracing the path taken by the Goddess’s human children. All throughout the summer and fall they walked, scavenging where they could but it was never enough. Hunger was ever in their bellies, as tiredness pull on their limbs. Into the autumn they traveled, until they were caught in an early snowstorm. It would seem death would claim them no matter the Goddess’s plans, when a figure in the storm came upon them, all three losing consciousness and carried them to a warm cave.

They were to be saved by the second to last son, of the old tribe of men, whom their ancestors had saved. The years had not been kind to the tribe either, always pushed further north. The savior of the young females, one of two survivors living in the far north, a young man of twenty-three years, a fine hunter and the apprentice shaman. The only other was the old shaman himself, hoary with age, knew death would be upon him by winter’s end and knew what his Goddess commanded. He would teach all three (the cub was too young to learn) and maybe they would survive. Just maybe.

The winter would be hard. Bitter cold and a lack of game might just kill all of them yet. It would be up to the youths, come spring, if they would remain in the north or if they would venture south again, to fight for the right to live in a more fertile land.

Return of the Masters
In the early days of mankind's expansion across the stars, travel across the galaxy was slow. Huge vessels would sails through the darkness, packed with settlers in survival sleep. Because of the huge risk in life and investments, when setting up a colonization effort, it was standard practice to send ahead a smaller party, in a smaller vessel, to prepare the new colonies. These people would start terraforming planets, building up food stocks and getting all the other projects for thriving human settlement. In an effort to save a little money on the insurance for such people and the cost of transporting them, some companies or private groups would send ahead only a few people, with the equipment to grow clone workers.'

Such was the case with the forth planet in the Omicron Atheni System, referred to as Waturn. However the private group running the operation was shaky. Funds seem to go missing often and the people signing up for the colony, some did not exist. It all seemed about to fall apart, when a handful of genetic technicians applied for the prep mission, offering to bring along their own equipment and DNA samples. Without taking a moment to think, if they should should look this gift horse in the mouth, the Colony organizers send their volunteers into space. While the techs slept, the follow on mission fell apart, they would stranded alone on Waturn, forgotten and near to see another human again.

However, this had been expected. You see, the genetic technicians were not interested in creating a small army of clones to prep a colony but rather wanted to get out from under the thumb of law, to be allowed to create new races of beings, using human and Earth animal DNA. A shaky colony mission to a habitual planet, seemed the perfect thing for their goals. Finding themselves alone and abandoned, they went to work, crafting their dream.

A few thousand years later, the planet of Waturn is home to dozens of thriving civilizations, filled with humanoid beings, with a tech level something around that of Earth in the late 1800s early 1900s. Their creation myth, the tale of the furless Makers, all but faded away but for the first time in many many years, a hidden code in their DNA, will awaken. The genetic technicians, who created them, worried about what would happen if humanity ever found this lost world and thus decided to code them with an urge to obey, should their creations ever find themselves making human contact. It was hoped that this trait would save them from destruction.

However, the first human to find them, after the death of the Makers, is not some avenging law keeper or xenophobe but rather a man who skirts the law. A rogue merchant and planet surveyor, who makes his living exploring new worlds and selling goods to and buying them from underdeveloped alien races.

From Ink to Flesh
One of my few modern day ideas. The main male lead, my character, is an artist. He draws a few webcomics and they do well but to pay the bills and have money to spare, he also draws porn, either commissions or he has a few smutty storylines of his own. Like many other artists, he goes to conventions, sells his art, take commissions and meet the fans. Well at one such convention, he’s given a gift from a “fan”. Its a set of pencils and pens and unknown to him, enchanted to bring whatever he draws to life.

If he just sketches with the pencils, how or whatever he draws, will leap from the page for several hours. If he takes time to ink and color, they’ll be in the real world for a few days. If its a character from his own stories, they’ll have all the memories of their life, up to the last comic drawn about them and they’ll know who and what he is.

Will they be grateful for the life he has them live or displeased over the situations he puts them in? Of course, he can always charge them but altering the reference sheets for each character....
« Last Edit: February 04, 2017, 12:25:01 PM by IrishWolf »

Online IrishWolfTopic starter

Re: Had a Few Ideas M for F
« Reply #1 on: February 21, 2016, 08:19:02 PM »
So I have a few settings that were once (and may be again) used for group roleplays, that I would really rather enjoy getting to use again. Maybe the idea for the group could be modified down to two main character or maybe we can try multiple characters each. 

Warning, many of these settings will have long descriptions

The Law Dogs
Sci-fi, Furry, Space Western
Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide
Priri IV, a world a little too close to it’s sun for humanity to be completely comfortable but rich with minerals. The hot, dry landscape has kept serious colonization from happening, which is say it has kept families from coming and settling down, building forever homes and beautiful cities.The riches this world offers, makes for a booming population, as rough or desperate men arrive to dig in the ground, hoping to find a fortune. And swarming behind such men, come sly men and women, eager to scam, steal and cheat their way to wealth.

The only city, located near to the north pole, serves as the colonial capital. Called Sane, for its said that it's in the only sane place to live on the planet, it serves as a spaceport, the center of the maglev lines and as a massive warehouse complex for the raw ore being pulled from the ground. It also headquarters the rather undermanned and ineffective Colonial Police. For sure, they keep the peace in Sane but there simply aren’t enough of them to go around. With so many small settlements, little more than a handful of shacks, to the ever changing boom towns, many of the ‘towns’ don't have any police officers and those permanent towns that exist, sometimes only have one.

With this lack of officers, most of Priri IV is lawless free for all, filled with roaming gangs of bandits or at best, lynch mobs ready to kill with the slightest evidence.

The town of Freud's Slip, is a little better off than most. The nearby dormant volcano runs with veins of gold, nickel and diamonds and luckily wasn’t snapped up by a big mining company but was divided up into smaller claims, which individuals or small groups brought into. The town is also within sight of a maglev line and has finally been able to get a station built, just a short walk away from the outer buildings. However, this source of wealth, as brought in it’s share of problems. Bandits have attacked the town several times, as have corporate thugs, trying to bully the local claim holders into selling.

However, the town has been well protected by the Chief of Police, Fredrik Hagerstrom, the town’s sole police officer. More akin to a shirriff from the Wild West in Earth’s past, then a modern lawman, he’s known to shoot outlaws, rather than arrest them, much to the locals preference. Alive criminals could commit more crimes. As good as he is, Hagerstrom sends a request for more officers, at least once a week to the headquarters of the Colonial Police. After seven years, it seems like he’s finally getting the reinforcements he wants. In a letter from HQ, he has been informed that he’s getting a K-9 squad.

Although Chief Hagerstrom found the fact he was getting a K-9 unit, he can always find use for more officers and trained police dogs. But it would seem, that someone at Headquarters, thinks they’re a comedian. The chief is not getting officers and dogs but rather a batch of new recruits, who are canine Genomorphs. These beings, carefully created from combining human and canine DNA, have existed for years and years, on more civilized worlds, as pets and servants. In recent years, with a number of lawsuits and petitions, have won them the rights of citizens, freeing them from their bondage and allowed them to reproduce naturally.

Socially progressive members of the Terran League government, have been pushing them into government jobs or as public servants, like police and public defenders. At least one of these officials, had the bright idea to spread acceptance of Genomorphs as free people to the colonies, by sending them out to fulfill open open government positions and knowing of the lawlessness of Priri IV, has decided to send a large contingent of newly trained police officers there. Unfortunately, these newly arriving officers, have been taught to enforce law, on more civilized worlds. 

By some quirk of fate, all of the so called K-9 cops, assigned to Freud's Slip, are female
Could be altered to a single K-9 cop instead of a whole squad

A World Time Forgot
Fantasy, Roaring Twenties, Time Travel-kinda, dinosaurs, prehistory
Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide

The Bermuda Triangle, a place of myth and legend, just north of the Caribbean, in the Atlantic Ocean. For a long as ships have sailed those waters, there have been strange happens and disappearances. To count the number of ships and aircraft, which have gone missing, would be an impossible task. Of course, there are the even more sinister case of ships found devoid of crew, drifting at the mercy of the sea, their holds still full of cargo and without signs of struggle.

Theories abound to the reason for all of these occurrences. Many look for rational explanations, everything from magnetic anomalies, the weather, to pure human error or even columns of methane bubbles. Others claim more extraordinary means for the mysteries of the Triangle, citing alien encounters or technology of sunken Atlantis.

Perhaps all or none of this theories can explain such incidents as the disappearance of the USS Cyclops, the Ellen Austin found derelict, boarded, lost and found derelict again or the loss of Flight 19. However the loss of SS Errant, in the summer 1927, can be explained by different means, although none of the crew or passengers could figure out what happened to them, nor could those that made the brief search for the tramp freighter, when she was listed as overdo. It was well known but never proven that Günter von Schricker, Captain of the Errant, was a rumrunner and it was assumed he, his crew and those unlucky enough to have taken passage on the ship, met with a bad end at the hand of criminals. 

However, those aboard the Errant could have attested to, had they been able to return, that such was not their fate.

The true fate of SS Errant is far stranger. While sailing through the Bermuda Triangle, on a voyage from New York to Havana, Cuba, the tramp freighter passed through a violent and unexpected squall. As the ship was tossed and pitched through the wave, she slipped through the boundaries between worlds, into one which might be described as lost to time. The great and terrible beasts of every era of Earth’s past roam, still very much alive. Great and terrible lizards mingle with megafauna, as the sea teems with monsters. All kinds of men, modern and primitive haunt the jungles and plains, even humans of our world, shipwrecked like those of the Errant.

In this world, the crew and passengers, must try to survive.

Luckily for them, they are not defenseless. From 1920 until 1925, SS Errant had been sailing in the Far East, often smuggling weapons for Chinese Warlords. In such a dangerous line of work, it often pays to have protection and the steamer has a hidden armory aboard. Like the original crew, when she left Europe in 1920, her weapons are German in origin. Gewehr 98 rifles mostly, with some MP 18 submachine guns and an equal number of Mauser C96 pistols, with plenty of ammunition, after all just because the United States and the Caribbean islands are not torn apart by civil war, doesn’t mean they're not dangerous. Mobsters and Prohibition agents can be just as quick to shoot, as as the soldiers of warlords. Of course, the passengers may have their own, American made weapons.

Alright, so this is going to be a freeform story inspired by the Lost World genre (work’s like Sir Arthur Conan Doyle’s The Lost World, Edgar Rice Burroughs’ The Land Time Forgot, Jules Verne's Journey to the Center of the Earth), centered around the survival the crew and passengers of the Errant, along with any natives beings, humans or not, who join them. Characters of any sexual orientation are welcome. Native characters are open to just about anything, from primitive humans, to modern man, to none-humans and intelligent beasties. Passenger characters are anyone who would fit into mid 1920s America. Crew characters are somewhat restricted, details in the next paragraph.

When Kapitänleutnant Günter von Schricker returned to Germany in 1919, after surrendering his U-Boat at Harwich, he found his beloved Kaiserliche Marine disbanded and replaced by the new Vorläufige Reichsmarine, a gutted navy, lacking submarines. Finding no place for him, Schricker was discharged with honor and left to find a new profession. Using his own personal finances and funds left to him by his Junker father, he purchased an old freighter and hired a crew of former U-Boat sailors, who like him, were out of a job. Knowing work would be hard to find in Europe or America, for the men of the U-Boat fleet, he sailed for Asia, where merchant ships had never known the terror of unrestricted submarine warfare. He has lost men in China and replaced from the sailors to be found there.

Name: Günter von Schricker
Age: 38
Nationality: German, specifically Prussian
Gender: male
Rank or Profession: Ship’s Captain
Sexuality: Straight and dominate
Günter is not a tall man, standing at five feet and nine inches but that had been to his advantage inside the cramped u-boats. Normally fair of skin, the past eight years skippering a surface ship around Asia and the Caribbean, has left him with modest tan on a weathered face, as well as darkening his short blonde hair somewhat. He looks older and sterner than he really is, from his service in the Great War. Proud but hard eyes, of a fierce light blue, dominate his face, which always seem to stare down his straight nose, even when he has to look up at someone. Athletic but not overly large, he’s more than strong enough to hold his own in a bar brawl. He can normally be found wearing muted tan or khaki shirts and trousers, with brown leather shoes and a battered looking and slightly strained white cap on his head. For cooler weather, he has a brown leather jacket.
Weapons: MP 18 and a Mauser C96
Personal effects: Günter doesn’t own much, save for his ship but he does keep six special items, most of which was kept tucked away in his cabin. The first, which he wears is his Girard-Perregaux wristwatch, which was issued to him when he was commissioned in the Kaiserliche Marine. The second is his old commander’s cap and his Kaiserliche Marine uniform. Folded carefully and reverently, a Reichskriegsflagge is tucked under his mattress. The final two are his Iron Cross second class and his Pour le Mérite
Special talents: His ability to take charge and lead, highly skilled navigator and a very good poker face, decent shot with a pistol
History: Born in 1889, into a family of Junkers, although not overly wealthy or powerful as nobles go, in Wismar. His childhood was rather uneventful, although he always had a love of the Baltic. When he old enough, he enlisted in the Kaiserliche Marine, where he was serve aboard a Magdeburg class light cruiser, until he was moved to U-Bootschule, in the early days of 1914. In the first year or more of the war, he served as both the second and then first watch officer on U-20, under Kapitänleutnant Walther Schwieger and stood at his station when U-20 sank the RMS Lusitania. After U-20 was grounded by Schwieger in 1916, Günter was promoted and given command of U-51, which he would hold until the end of the war. Commanding his U-boat for fourteen patrols, he managed to sink 49 vessels, equalling just over 100,000 tons of cargo sent to the bottom, earning him both the Iron Cross and the Pour le Mérite.

When Kapitänleutnant Günter von Schricker returned to Germany in 1919, after surrendering his U-Boat at Harwich, he found his beloved Kaiserliche Marine disbanded and replaced by the new Vorläufige Reichsmarine, a gutted navy, lacking submarines. Finding no place for him, Schricker was discharged with honor and left to find a new profession. Using his own personal finances and funds left to him by his Junker father, he purchased an old freighter and hired a crew of former U-Boat sailors, who like him, were out of a job. Knowing work would be hard to find in Europe or America, for the men of the U-Boat fleet, he sailed for Asia, where merchant ships had never known the terror of unrestricted submarine warfare.

While in Singapore, Günter, his two mates, the head engineer and a handful of his sailors, were in a bar, drinking and retelling stories of their old glory in the war, in German. After several glasses, an American joined them, who seemed to understand them somewhat and was not unfriendly, despite the war so recently fought. In a rare moment, at least for the Germans, they opened up with a former enemy, gladly telling stories and listening to his, right before members of a Chinese secret society, started shooting at the bar, looking to kill their new friend. After a sharp fight, leaving a number of dead gangsters on the street and the floor of the bar, they took their new companion, who called himself Connor Williams and headed out to sea, knowing to stay in Singapore would mean being murdered or being arrested by the British authorities.

In the year that followed, Connor proved himself a valuable member of the crew, especially when there was trouble about, even when he brought said trouble to their ship. Well liked, Captain Schricker choose Jack, as the men called him, as First Mate, after the former holder of that position was killed in a skirmish between the soldiers of rival Warlords, which they happened to have been caught in. While the young American might not be a born sailor, he was brave and blessed in battle, the kind of man, men would rally behind. The very kind of man, whom his sailors would need, should the Captain be killed.

In 1925, he returned to the Atlantic, sailing to the Caribbean and loading up with rum. His sailors, being well seasoned smugglers, were able to sneak the cargo of illegal booze right into New York Harbor, in broad daylight and unload it without getting caught. From that voyage forth, he has moved booze across the East Coast for criminals of all sorts and sometime takes passengers along, although not in the greatest of comfort and style. It was in this trade, which Connor proved to be an asset again, having personal knowledge of the local underground and able to point Günter in the right direction, to get them contacts with the gangs and mobs around New York.
Sexual ons: Either the very familiar or the very exotic, he most enjoys women who remind him of making port in Germany, after a long patrol in U-51 or something the likes he's never seen before. Bonus points if she's a friendly, adventurous woman.
Sexual offs: Being called a Hun or a murderer, especially right before having his advances rejected.

The Empress’s Own
Low fantasy, history based, culture clash, East meets West
Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide

It is the year of 1655 of the Fourth Era, in the world of Feria. Or at least, that is how the civilized nations of the Osor continent see it. For several centuries, they had been the center of scientific, industrial and cultural advancement, their armies welding the most modern of arms, although tactics might be outdated at this point. For years now, their explorers had mapped in the dark interior of the southern continent of Erslya and they have colonised several points along the coast, to bring enlightenment to the dark skinned natives there. Or so they’ve claimed, conditions in the colonies are not, as the intellectual thinkers hoped they would be, although the bankers and colonial governors grow wealthy.

However, their view of the world has changed. For years untold, they thought the world was just Osor and Erslya, with the rest empty ocean. They knew the world was round, thanks to math and the calculations of learned men but since time began, they could not explore the rest, for there was a great natural barrier preventing this. The Doldrum a massive belt stretching vertically around the world, where the wind doesn't blow and waters are choked with thick beds of floating seaweeds, where terribly destructive shipworms breed. No wooden hulled sailing ship could penetrate, to see what lay beyond.

Now though, there is a new kind of ship upon the seas. Launched just four years ago, in the middle of a terrible war with the Kingdom of Tauacia, the Sesal Republic possesses a squadron of ironclad steamships, the first to be armored and the first to be driven by engines, rather than sail. With the end of their war with Wesal, the Naval Department find that they had a great number of bold and daring captains, eager for danger and glory, some of whom, are urging to see what lays beyond The Doldrum, using the new ships.

Three years ago, a fleet of exploration sailed west, bound for The Doldrum. The Ironclads, their keels armored to protect them from enemy torpedoes, should keep the vessels safe from the hordes of shipworms, towed barges of coal behind them. The bottoms of the barges sheathed in copper, in what would hopefully be a cheaper method, of keeping the wood worm-free. Three quarters of a year later, they returned, the first ships from Osor to ever do so and they carried shocking news. Not only were their lands beyond the The Doldrum but they were inhabited, mostly by barbarians but there was at least one great civilization.

The ship’s officers and crews told of tales of vast landmass beyond the windless sea, peaked with cloud covered mountains and forested by strange trees. Odd, warlike people lived there. Some have darker skins and others had fair skin, much like those of the Osorens and many have slanted eyes. Almost everywhere the ships tried to land, groups of men appeared, waving swords, spears and weapons unfamiliar to the sailors or firing arrows at the longboats, forcing the men back to the protection of the armored hulls of their ships. It was as if the whole of this continent was inhabited by savages, until the three ironclads followed a large number of tiny fishing vessels into a large bay, between a pair of mountains.

Behind the shield of the tall mountains and beyound the clear, shallow waters of the bay, was the grand city of Kōzu, the base of power for the Araki Empire. As the Ironclads approached, a boom of iron chain, wrapped with bindles of a strange wood, was raised, as the last of the fishing vessels slipped past. Two of the three Ironclads slowed to a stop but the third, under the command of a young captain named Elie Gohier, steamed ahead, smashing through the boom with her armored hull and into the bay. Sailing across the clear waters, until her keel was rammed into the white sand of the bottom, Captain Gohier climbed to the foredeck and watched, as hundreds of armored clad warriors assembled on the docks and beaches before the city. After an hour, without the natives launching arrows or spears towards his ship, he ordered a small boat lowered and called for enough volunteers to man the oars, to row him ashore.

This tiny party of bold seaman was met in the surf by wary eyed warriors, as the other two Ironclads sailed into the bay. Although words could not be understood, after a time, gifts were given by both sides, leading to a month long stay for the small fleet of exploration. During this time, some translations were made and some dialogue established before the fleet had to head for home, their coal running low and supplies of rum short. Their hulls were stuffed with strange spices, artwork and a wonderful new kind of cloth, called silk.

When the fleet returned to the Sesalian port city of Guirec and word spread of their adventures and what they had found, silk became the most sought after trade good, the nation had ever seen. Sailors from the fleet, who had been given little more then enough to make a single shirt, sudden found themselves rich beyond their dreams. Scores of merchant ships were outfitted with steam engines and sheathed in copper, for the long voyage across the Doldrum, sailing forth from ports all over Sesal, for the nation jealously guarded the route across the sea, eager to acquire whole shiploads of silk and other Arakian goods.

Over the past two years, as trade between Sesal and Araki grows, diplomacy stagnates between the nations. Much of the Imperial Court is opposed to having any interaction with outsiders, other than war. Araka merchants, while happy to make money selling to Sesalians, are rude and distant with them. Any attempt by a Sesalian to see the country beyond the city of Kōzu, is blocked. It would seem, that the whole country wants nothing more to do with those from across the sea, then to quickly swap good and sent them away at once. However, there is one person within the Empire, who is enthralled by them, the Empress Satsuki.

The Ironclad fleet arrived on her eighteenth birthday, on the day she was suppose to ascend the throne, which was put off until the strangers left. As much as the court has attempted to keep her separated from the Sesalians, she has become obsessed with them, sending out her servants to secretly bring Osoren clothing and books back into the palace for her. However her most recent desire, were fueled by one of the rare times she got to meet with the Sesalian ambassador and was given a demonstration of of Sesalian weaponry by a company of marines. She now wants a regiment, equipped and trained in Sesalian style.

The Ambassador, seeing an opportunity but not overly hopeful, sent to the request back to Sesal. To his surprise, the Secretary of the Army responded at once, agreeing to the venture and began organizing a military mission. You see, he had hundreds of thousands of rifled-muskets, uniforms, haversacks, cartridge boxes, belts, tents and all the other equipment of war to spare, along with hundreds of officers and sergeants in need of posts. After the war, the volunteer regiments had disbanded, leaving their equipment in government armories and the regular army officers and NCOs that had trained and then led them on the field of battle, without commands or postings, suited to their ranks, even after they reverted back from breveted promotions.

While the Empress was overjoyed to hear the news, brought by merchant ship, her Court was not so pleased. Not only would this mean more of the outsiders dealing with their folk and polluting their country but it was a direct attack on the power of the nobility. Since time unknown, the great lords of the Arakian people, called Daimyo, had been granted their strength through their ability to wage war. They lived upon the borders, forcing those lesser lords from the safe, protected interior of the country to send them huges taxes of rice and gold, to support their war making. It was their warriors, their armies and their victories, which maintained the nation. If the Empress was adopt the Sesalian model, it would not longer be their warriors but her soldiers, not their armies but her army and their honors and glories, would belong to her.

So they can only hope this experiment in outsider methods, fails. Of course, should they get an opportunity to help it fail, they’ll take it. Already, even before the Empress’s heralds ride from Kōzu, announcing to the whole country, that she is looking for warriors to assemble at the capitol, they have sent out their own messengers, back to their domains. None of their true warriors from the borderlands will come and those lesser lords sworn to them, will not send what few warriors they have to serve. At best, Empress Satsuki may get the dregs from the least powerful of families, whose swords have not been drawn in generations.

Alright, well that was a long read and I’m glad to see your still with me. Hopefully, you're wondering about characters and what plot I’m going to take this background setup from, about what kind of adult aspects the story will have, how I was inspired to come up with this and that you want to join.


Now in the title, I said said this was a historically inspired story and it is, mostly by the French Military Mission to Japan of 1867-68 and by the Onna-bugeisha.

So, after Commodore Perry opened Japan, the Tokugawa shogunate sent out an emissary to Europe, who requested military missions from the United Kingdom and France, to train modern troops. The United Kingdom refused but Napoléon III agreed, sending over a dozen officers and NCOs to Japan. These men were from the infantry, cavalry, artillery and engineers. When the Boshin War broke out and the Shogunate was defeated, the military mission was ordered by the restored Imperial government, to return back to France. However several men in the mission, lead by Jules Brunet, a lieutenant in the Horse Artillery Regiment of the Guard, promptly resigned from the French Army and joined with several thousand sailors, soldiers and samurai from the defeated Shogunate, who formed the Republic of Ezo, continuing to teach them Western Tactics and leading soldiers into battle. While noted for holding the first election in Japan, the Republic of Ezo was defeated in about six months.

The Onna-bugeisha, are warrior women, from Japanese history. Before even the samurai class was formed and right up to the Edo period, the women of the warrior and rules classes were taught how to weld weapons. This training allowed the women to protect towns, castles and other settlements, whose men were either away waging war or which lacked fighting men. However, with the Edo period and the end of war in Japan, for over two hundred and fifty years, saw the Onna-bugeisha nearly fade away, as even the Samurai changed from warrior to bureaucrat. There was a slight resurgence during the Boshin War, at least in the Aizu Domain. During the Battle of Aizu, Nakano Takeko led a small band of women armed with naginatas. During the same battle, Yamamoto Yaeko defended Aizuwakamatsu Castle with a Spencer Repeating Rifle.


Now for the loose plot. Now nothing is set in stone and it can be changed as the story evolves but my plan at this point is to start the story with the Military Mission arriving in Kōzu, early in the night. When they disembark, they are met by the Sesalian Ambassador, to brings them to his house for the night, while the crates with uniforms, rifles, ect are unloaded into a warehouse. While this is going on, Less than two dozen young nobles answering the call of the Empress arrive in a camp near the city, with retainers and levies from their homes.

In the morning, a few of the Empress’s chosen officials arrive at the Ambassador’s home and led the Mission about to the camp, followed by laborers carrying the crates, while another official arrives at the camp, telling the nobles and their followers to get ready to hear why the Empress as called for them. The Mission arrives and the officials announce that the Empress wants this strangers to teach them how to fight with new weapons and in the stranger’s tactics. Confusion breaks out.

The Sesalians are disappointed to find a little less than six hundred are there to be trained, to them, a newly mustered regiment is at least a thousand strong and they were told to expect more than that. They are then shocked to find out that something like have of the recruits are women.

On the flip side, the Arakians are shocked as well. Being from in the middle of the country, they hadn’t heard of the arrival of the Sesalians and knew nothing about them. The fact that they are to be armed and trained by barbarians (for all outsiders are barbarians) confuses, insults and shames them. Many assume that because their families haven’t been defending the country on the borders, that the Empress no longer has any faith in their skill with sword, spear and bow and feels that they must be taught new ways of war.

Over the next month, maybe a month and a half, the Sesalians are going to have to force these feudal warriors into becoming modern soldiers. The sergeants drilling the levies and retainers in marching, forming formation, shooting and bayonet, while the officers oversee the sergeants and try to teach the nobles in how to led a modern force. Until word reaches the city about a series of raids along the border, many of them coming out a mountainous region, where there is suppose to be a medium sized barbarian fort.

Seeing an opportunity, the noble members of the Imperial Court pressure the Empress to send her barely trained regiment to deal with the fort, promising to send levies of their own to support her new troops. At first it seems like they will keep their word, as the regiment marches out but when they reach the foothills of the mountains, their support melts away in the night, just in time for raiders to find the regiment.  A surprise attack in the early morning sends the regiment into panic. The Mission, which came along with the regiment as advisors, rather than to continue training them, knowing that the inexperienced officers will never be able to reorganize the green troops, wade into the fray, to take command and hopefully save the regiment.

Even if they do, there is still the mission to take the fort or they could return in shame and defeat to the Empress.


I will be accepting characters from the Military Mission, the Regiment or as Court officials.

Now, if you want to be part of the Military Mission, your character will be male and an Osoren in the Sesalian Army or one may play was a Seasalian woman with some sort of connection to someone in the mission, perhaps a soldier's wife or mistress. There should be between three and four officers, either Captains or Lieutenants (first or second). The Mission will be commanded by my character, a Major. These men would have moved from Regular Army units during the war and given breveted (temporary) higher ranks to command volunteer regiments and after the war reverted back to their permanent rank in the Regular Army, only to find that there isn’t a place for them in any of their old units.

There should also be between four and six NCOs. These men would have already been sergeants when the war broke out and were moved to volunteer regiments like the officers, to help train them and then to have veteran, senior NCOs in such regiments. Unlike the officers however, their promotions to ranks like Sergeant Major, Colour Sergeant, Ordnance Sergeant and the like, were not breveted but permanent promotions.

The Sesalians would appear the same as western europeans with French sounding names. Mustaches, beards, sideburns and muttonchops are highly encouraged. The Sesalian Army is based off the French Army (1850-1870), so they should be wearing uniforms like them and I will provided examples below and I will make a little list here to help out making up a uniform. Different regiments could have very different uniforms.

Headgear: either a kepi or a shako

Jacket: either a knee length frock coat or a hip length shell coat, both should be single breasted (one row of brass buttons) and have epaulettes. Some shade of blue.

Trousers: Baggy or straight legged, shades of blue, red or black, with a differently colored stripe along the outer seam.

Footwear: Black leather ankle high boots (officers may have thigh high boots), hobnailed and wore with white spats (canvas covers wore over the boot and around the ankle) or gaiters (canvas covers wore over the boot and up to the calf ).

Under the uniform, men would wear shirts (any color or pattern), vests (any color or pattern), drawers (lightweight cloth pants, reaching down to knees or ankles, with a drawstring) and socks.

Examples of French and French inspired uniforms

If you want to play a character that is part of the Regiment, I would ask that you play as either a noble or a retainer. Characters can be of either gender and must be Arakians. Nobles should be young, late teens or early twenties and will become the Regiment’s officers, ten captains, one Major and a Colonel. The retainers on the other hand, can be of any age. Their the few professional warriors serving the lords of the interior of the country and will become the junior officers (lieutenants) and sergeants of the regiments. The levies are farmers called up to fight and will become the enlisted men of the regiment. If you do want to play as such, I would prefer it if your character would be someone who proves themselves during the Regiment’s first action and get promoted.

As to those who might want to play as Court Officials, they can be either gender and any age, as long as their Arakians. They lived in the capital city all their lives and serve the Empress, not a Daimyo. After introducing the Sesalians, they will stick around as translaters and to try and keep the peace between the two groups.

Arakians should looked East Asian. Names and clothing should be heavily influenced by Japanese culture, with an undercurrent of Hans Chinese. I will be honest, I’m not overly familiar with clothing for them but I will try to help with that, with what I have been able to find out. If anyone knows this subject better, feel free to speak up. Now, after the beginning, those in the Regiment, will be issued with Sesalian uniforms but feel free to mix and match those uniform with traditional clothing, like the image at the top.

Kimono: should be the simpler men’s style. Juban, a thin undershirt like garment, inner robe called a nagajuban, outer robe, attachable sleeves and a narrow sash called an obi. They also can be worn with a hakama, a pleted, divided skirt.

Samue: work clothes, waist length robe with loose trousers that tie around the ankle.

Kosode: basic robe, can be worn as undergarment or overgarment. Loose fit, worn with an obi and often with a hakama

Clothing examples




Pattern 1640 Bosc Rifle

Invented fifteen years ago, the Bosc is a muzzle loading rifled musket, using percussion caps. Firing a .58 caliber Bosc ball (this world’s version of the Minié ball), at a rate of 3-4 shots a minute, by a well trained rifleman, this rifle is four feet and ten inches from butt to muzzle. Weighing nine pounds, it has an effective range of one hundred to four hundred yards with a maximum range of a thousand, although hitting anything over five hundred is up to luck. COme equipped with a socket bayonet, with a triangular blade, eighteen inches long. Issued to all Sesalian enlisted and sent with the Military Mission to arm the Empress’s regiment with.

Le Hir Revolver
Invented nine years ago, the Le Hir is a five shot, cap and ball revolver. Coming in .44 caliber, they are double action, meaning that it take a single squeeze of the trigger to cock the hammer and fire the weapon. The chamber can be popped out and replaced, allowing those that carry it to quickly reload. Effective at thirty-five yards, the revolver has a maximum range of one hundred yards. They are general issue to all Sesalian officers and flag bearers, although the officers are allowed to purchase their own weapons, so long as they were .44 caliber and a number of these side arms are being shipped with the Military Mission for the officers of the Regiment.

Pattern 1630 Infantry Officer’s Saber
Standard issue to all Sesalian officers, although regulations allow for officers to purchases other style of swords. Thirty-two inch, slightly curved blade, with brass guard and wire wrapped leather grip, they come with steel and brass scabbards. These swords are not being sent with the Military Mission, as the native Arakians have their own styles of swords.

Pattern 1620 Noncommissioned Officer’s Sword
Issued to sergeants, flag bearers and musicians in the Sesalian Army. Twenty-six inch, straight blade, with cast brass grip, which resembles the more expensive wire wrapped grips of officer’s swords. They come with leather scabbards. These swords are with the Military Mission, as the military minds back in Sesal were unsure if the common people in the Araki Empire are allowed swords.

The men of the Military Mission may also be carrying personally bought weapons, such as knives of various styles and lengths or non-standard revolvers or single shot pistols. Arakian officers are carrying native swords of different types and native polearms, if they choose to, such weapons include but are not limited to katanas, ōdachi, nagamaki, naginata and yari.

Adult Aspects

This has been asked of me before in stories before, where the plot isn’t something akin to that of a porn (not that such stories are bad, I love them). This story will contain violence in battle, training or scuffles between characters. There is room for romance and rape in the story, with sex that can be played out in the IC thread but might work better in a separate thread between those players and linked so the rest can know what happened


Sesalian Currency

Base unit, Franc, which is divided into 100 centimes


20 Franc, gold coin, weighs 6.4 grams

10 Franc, gold coin, weighs 3.2 grams

5 Franc, gold coin, weighs 1.6 grams

5 Franc, silver coin, weighs 25 grams

2 Franc, silver coin, weighs 10 grams

1 Franc, silver coin weighs 5 grams

Half Franc, silver coin, weighs 2.5 grams

Quarter Franc, silver coin, weighs 1.25 grams

10 centime, bronze coin, weighs 10 grams

5 centime, bronze coin, weighs 10 grams

2 centime, bronze coin, weighs 2 grams

1 centime, bronze coin, weighs 2 grams

Arakian Currency

Based on the Ryō, a weight of gold, which is in turn, based on the koku, a unit of rice, weighing about 330 pounds. A koku is enough rice to feed a person for a year. 1 koku is worth 3 Ryō


Ōban, gold plate, worth ten Ryō, weighs 180 grams

Koban, oblong gold coin, worth one Ryō, weighs 18 grams

Nibuban, square gold coin, worth half a Ryō, weighs 9 grams

Ichibuban, square gold coin, worth a quarter Ryō, weighs 4.5 grams

Ichibuban, square silver coin, worth a quarter Ryō, weighs 8.6 grams

Isshuban, square silver coin, worth a twentieth of a Ryō, weighs 1.7 grams

Mon, oblong bronze coins with a square hole cut in the middle, 4000 mon is worth a Ryō. Minted by lords across the empire, in different amounts. The only Imperial minted mon is a 100 mon coin, weighing 20 grams

Sesalian and Arakian are equal by weight.


10 centime is worth 100 mon

17.25 silver francs is worth just about 10 ichibuban

55 gold francs is worth just about 1 koban

Pay grades for the Sesalian Army, per month

Private 65 francs

Corporal 65 francs

Sergeant 85 francs

First Sergeant 100 francs

Quartermaster Sergeant 105 francs

Colour Sergeant 105 francs

Sergeant Major 105 francs

Second Lieutenant 527.5 francs

First Lieutenant  527.5 francs

Captain 577.5 francs

Major 845 francs

Lieutenant Colonel 905 francs

Colonel 1,060 francs

Brigadier General 1,575 francs

In the beginning, those serving in the Empress's Own payed monthly as follows,

Levees 350 mon

Retainers 1 isshuban, 130 mon

Nobles 5 isshuban

Examples of price, in Francs

A rifle costs 100 francs

A dozen eggs costs 1 franc

A pound of cheese, 65 centime

Player: IrishWolf
Group: Military Mission
Name: Gerard Meresse
Age: 30
Gender: Male
Rank: Major
Highest Rank Held: Brevet Brigadier General
Social Standing: NA
Sexual Preference: heterosexual, dominant   
Gerard Is a man of decent height, standing at five feet and ten inches tall, with a lean, athletic build, from years of fencing and from serving in a four year war. He is fair skinned and lightly tanned, which is slightly darker on his face. His hair is a soft brown color, cut to a few inches long and combed back. His facial hair matches that on his head and is neatly trimmed into a pair of thick muttonchops, bridged by a mustache. His green-brown eyes command his face, staring over a once straight nose, which has been broken at least once. He carries a scar on his left leg, from where a bullet went right through the muscle and nearly killed him. There is also a scar on his right ribs, from a shallow cut from a bayonet. As he has yet be reassigned, he still wears the uniform of the 5th Carlipa Regiment of Volunteer Infantry, loose but straight legged red trousers, with black stripes on the seams, a deep blue, single breasted shell jacket with gold epaulettes and a red kepi with gold trim. There are several campaign metals or metals for bravery on his right breast, when he is wearing his uniform in parade fashion.
Weapons: Le Hir Revolver and a personally engraved Pattern 1630 Infantry Officer’s Saber
Extra Gear: bruyère wood smoking pipe, pipe tobacco, silver pocket watch, comb and brush, straight razor, extra cylinders for his revolver, a black and tan Shorthaired Shepherd dog called Chasseur
History: Born in 1625, Gerard is the son of a successful factory owner and growing up, received a good education. As a young man, he worked for his father, who hoped he would take over but when he came to manhood, he applied and was accepted into the military academy, in the old fortress of Malix. After graduating, roughly in the middle of his class, he was commissioned as a Lieutenant in the 12th Infantry, at the age of twenty-two. Barely a year later, war broke with the Kingdom of Tauacia, after the Tauacian Army opened fire on the border forts. At the battle of Blomard Farm, he took a ball in his left calf, as his regiment advanced through a field of ankle high wheat. Nearly bleeding to death, he was carried off the field, to the regimental surgeons. Luckily, it was a flesh wound and his leg bone wasn’t broken. Recovering, he rejoined the regiment several weeks later, he would survive the Battle of Cornillac, where his regiment suffered heavy casualties and was promoted to captain, to fill the spot of his dead company commander.

A month later, he received a letter, giving him a breveted rank of Major and ordering him to report to the muster of the 5th Carlipa Regiment of Volunteer Infantry. Unknown to him, an uncle of his was serving on the board of staff officers, choosing field officers to train volunteers. Two months later, the 5th marched out, with Gerard as it’s second in command. During the defense of Cauna Hill, he took command of the regiment, when Colonel Antonin Thorel was shot off his horse. Promoted to Major in the Regular Army and breveted to Colonel of Volunteers, he commanded the 5th until the battle of The Old Forest. The Sesalians were trying to drive the Tauacians from an very old forest and the brigade the 5th was in, was assigned to the left flank. The 5th was placed on the end of the line and as the army advanced, easily punched through a light screen of Tauacian skirmishers.

Despite this easy victory, Gerard was uneasy, as he could plainly hear heavy fighting off to his right. Instead of driving the Tauacians before him, he ordered his regiment to wheel right, forcing their way through heavy undergrowth, until they found the battle proper. The rest of the brigade was being slaughtered, as they assaulted a Tauacian position, set in the remains of an abandoned farmhouse, which had collapsed slightly and the tumbling over stone walls around it. Finding that he had flanked the enemy, he ordered his men to pour fire into the rear of the Tauacians, until they routed from their farmhouse. At this point, more Tauacian regiments began to fall back and their flank started to roll up. However the battle would last a further three days, as the thick woods turned maneuvers into quagmires and often prevented orders from arriving in timely manners.

After the battle, it was found out that the brigade command had been killed and Gerard was breveted to Brigadier General. Until the War’s end, a year and half later, he would led the brigade into battle, gaining a reputation for being able to flank through the roughest of terrain, his men nearly always using light infantry formations and tactics, which seemed to work, even with their colorful uniforms, most likely because enemy commanded didn’t believe men could march through the rocky hills or forests on their flanks. His brigade would earn the nickname, The Devil’s Chasseurs.

After the War, he reverted back to his rank of Major, only to find that his regiment (and the rest of the Regular Army regiments) had no need of a Major. He was put on half pay, like many of his fellow officers and assigned to a border fort. When his former regiment, the 5th Carlipa Regiment of Volunteer Infantry, disbanded. The men took a vote and gave the regimental mascot, a one hundred pound shepherd dog, to him as a parting gift. For the past three years, he has slowly going crazy from boredom in the fort, throwing himself into saber fencing to hold off the boredom and playing with Chasseur. He was thrilled, when he was offered the chance to lead the Military Mission to the Araki Empire, which was once again, thanks to his uncle.
« Last Edit: May 18, 2016, 04:24:44 PM by IrishWolf »

Online IrishWolfTopic starter

Re: Had a Few Ideas M for F
« Reply #2 on: April 09, 2016, 02:12:10 PM »
Settings from group games I'd like to use, part 2

Warning, many of these settings will have long descriptions

Steam and Sorcery
Fantasy, Steampunk, Victorian
Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide

It is an age of sorcery, it is an age of steam. Since the dawn of time, technology has advanced with civilization, sometimes at the cutting edge and sometimes driving civilization but it’s progress has always marched on. For five hundred years though, the mages and wizards of the Eiwon continent, have tried to halt this. It was when the first crude cannons and firearms made their appearance, that those welding magics felt threatened, fearing that their powers would be overtaken. Each new advance in weaponry and machines was stolen, hidden or forgotten. But trying to hold back progress, is like trying to hold down the lid of a boiling pot.

Fifty years ago, the pot boiled over.

Springing forwards, like an uncaged beast, as the people and rulers of nations around Eiwon, rejected the repression of wizards. As if overnight, factories and mills sprung up, powered by great steam engines or harnessing the might of rivers. Warriors set aside pikes and longswords, becoming soldiers with guns. New fashions and new sciences rise, as do schools, teaching things like engineering and medicine, rather than spells and potions.

Firearms change and evolve at a rapid pace, going from the matchlocks the wizards once tolerated, to flintlocks in a blink of an eye. From there, they jumped to percussion caps, paper cartridges, breechloaders and more, ending with current generation rifles, with single shot lever or bolt action, firing brass cartridges, along with an assortment of single and double action revolvers, break open shotguns and rifled artillery, both muzzle loading and breechloading. Experimental weapons appear everyday, everything from rifles with a magazine, to weapons using compressed air or pressurized steam, to rumors of multi-barreled guns, which can match a company of soldiers in firepower. Even worst in the eyes of traditionalists, they throw off the old rules, allowing women to join the ranks.

Of course, it is not only military technology which grows. Streets at night, are lit by the soft glow of gas lamps. The rumble of the iron horse, as rail lines connect towns, cities and mines, can be heard, as trains carry cargo and people across the land. Of course, new machines, taking steam engines from the rails and letting them drive across roads. Stranger and experimental vehicles, landships and horseless carriages, appear from the wild imaginations of liberated inventors. New ships sail the oceans, ships powered by steam engines, with paddlewheels or screws, keepings sails, only for emergencies. Some even sail beneath the waves!

Not every nation jumps on the technologic bandwagon. For every kingdom or republic racing forwards, another kingdom or empire clings to tradition. Mages and wizards flock to such nations, either leaving in disgust or being forced from once prominent positions. Although they refuse to get with the times, their armies, made up of peasant levies with spears and bows and armored knights, are still a force to be respected, as they are bolstered with all of the refugee magic users.

This new age, is also one of exploration. Adventurous souls set forth to find out what lies beyond the borders of the old maps, finding new lands, resources and peoples. Colonies and trade stations spring up on far shores, as trade flourishes and those seeking new lives, sail across the sea. They come from both sides of the technological divide, the traditionalists tolerating a voyage on “wretched” steamships, for the chance to set up old world style cities and towns, as their former countrymen embrace the new sciences.

Of course, the natives of these lands, object to the colonization and in many cases, attack settlements. However, this is seen more of a good thing. While back home, nations shift restlessly, building weapons and armies, wars are few and very short, as a balance of powers shift and new alliances are form. Out in the colonies on the other hand, skirmishes happen every day. Traditionalists crave the chance to clash swords and spears with the natives, relishing the old ways of battle. On the other hand, Modernists eagerly march out to break native armies, to prove their tech and weapons, is the true way of the future. However, it should be noted, there have been both plenty of defeats inflicted on both sides and in plenty of places, the natives are embracing the new ways of life the colonists bring.

While it would seem, that the world has divided itself between magic and science, this is not true. While the wizards and mages have been mostly turned out, lesser magic users are enjoying new liberation and opportunities. You see, magic has always been broken down between two set casts of magic users. The Learned, wizards and mages, are those who can learn to harness the power of the universe, to craft mighty spells and brew potions. It is their abilities, which has granted them a great deal of power. Wizards have the greatest range of abilities, able to learn any kind of spell, where mages are weaker, specialising in things like war magic or healing magic or weather magic, ect.

On the other side, are the Knacked. These are men and women, who have an inborn ability with one of the four elements; Earth (Geokinetic), Wind (Aerokinetic), Water (Hydrokinetic) and Fire (Pyrokinetic). They are divided between Gifted and Privileged. A Gifted Knack, who is Pyrokinetic, could do something like light a candle or setting someone’s shoe on fire by focusing on it. A Privileged Pyrokinetic could stick their hand into a raging fire, scoop out a fistful of coals and hurl them at someone, without even getting scorched. As great at these abilities are, they have always been repressed by the Learned, often treated like children at best  or having their powers sealed by spells at worst.

There is some reason behind this, a Knacked, trying to do something beyond their abilities, runs the risk of losing themselves to the elements. Raging, uncontrollable fires can be sparked by Pyrokinetics, which can consume whole cities or forests, along with the Knacked. Hurricanes can be called forth by out of control Aerokinetics. Earthquakes by Geokinetics. Flooding and Tidal waves by Hydrokinetics. It can be worse, if two Knacked lose control at the same time, the fury of their elements combining. However, these disasters can be avoided, simply by having someone else around to bring a Knack out of their focusing trances.

Knacked, in nations embracing science and freed from the oversight of wizards and mages, have found golden opportunities. With so many trains, ships, mills, trains and other inventions needing steam engines, Pyrokinetics and Hydrokinetics, have found themselves in great demand, if focusing their abilities, they can make the fires burn hotter and use less fuel, while making the water boil quicker and recapturing the steam, to condense back to liquid, reducing the need for great water tanks. The great need for iron, copper, tin and zinc have drawn many Geokinetics to the mines, either to work the veins or the find new sources of ore. They are also called to the foundries and factories, using their abilities to help purify the metals, along with Pyrokinetics. Strangely, Hydrokinetics and Aerokinetics are also being called to the mines. Delving deep into the earth to fuel this demand for metal, many mines have encountered problems with water filled the shafts or uncovering pockets of gas and the need to get fresh air down to the men.

It is an age of opportunity.

First, our plot

It is a time of great tension for the Republic of Ruca, as the newspapers are filled with wild reports coming from the colonies along the Aiijan Coast of the far continent of Sulenia, claiming native armies are massing on the frontier, lead by foul cabal of renegade Rucain wizards and mages. Rumors abound to their reasons, everything from carving out a new kingdom for themselves, to avenging the loss of their power, to the most outrageous claims of all, that they are leading a native army to slaughter all of the Rucain colonists, capture all the ships they can and sail across the sea for an invasion of the Republic itself.

There is a good deal of truth to these rumors. Deep inside the Home Office for the Republic’s military, are filled reports of gathering tribes, wizards fleeing to the colonies and disappearing across the frontier, a growing number of skirmishes and most damning of all, word from their spies in the nearby Kingdom of Sacia, that Saciain agents are supplying someone near the colonies, with large amounts of gold. It is agreed, by all who have seen the findings, that at the very least, this is a Saciain plot to cause the Republic trouble and that the wizards are aiming for a conquest of the colonies, either for themselves or for their new Saciain masters. The lost of the ranches, sugar, sorghum, cotton and newly introduced tobacco plantations, would deal a terrible blow to the Republic’s economy.

Although this would normally bring about a military expedition, to stamp out this threat, none has marched forth. There are several reasons but chief among them are a simple fact and a great worry. Firstly, even after the Sulenia Native Contingent was raised ten years ago, colonial defenses are stretched thin. Second, it is unknown how deeply the Saciains are involved in this plot. Sending soldiers to attack the gatherings, might kill Saciains, which could set off a war back in Eiwon, something the Republic is not ready for.

For a week, long meetings between politicians and generals have been under way, debating what should be done. It was finally decided, that the government would hire several Ticknor Detectives and send them to arrest or kill the renegade wizards. Orders would precede them to the Colonial Governor, instructing them to provide assistance to the Ticknors. This would be in the form of information and some manpower from the 12th Regiment of Foot, Sulenia Native Contingent and the Colonial Constabulary. However these orders heavily implied that minimal presence from the 12th and heavier involvement from the SNC and Constabulary would be seen in favorable light, as long as the Ticknors were in charge.

Next, the races our characters can be

Humans are found on more than one continent but are dominant on Eiwon. Ranging in height from five to six feet, although there are those who are shorter or taller. For those native to Eiwon, their skin tones range from fair in the northern regions to a light olive in the south. The Republic of Ruca is located in the northeast of Eiwon, her people fair of skin and light of hair, although those with darker hair are not that uncommon. Five years after the Great Industrial Revolution began, the people of Ruca threw off the chain of the monarchy, setting off a series of short but bloody wars, over the following five years with surrounding kingdoms, until the Republic was finally officially founded and recognized by the other nations. For the last forty years, the Republic has been a growing economic power, settling many overseas colonies, which has overstretched the Army and Navy.

The Elvanti are found all over Sulenia. Humanoid, they stand between five and a half feet tall to just a little over six feet at the crown but their long, slender ears, which taper into a sharp point at the tip, can add up to another foot. Compared with humans, their skin is dark, a healthy bronze color, coupled with dark brown or black hair.

The Elvanti living along the Aiijan Coast called themselves the Zelalem People and are broken up into a dozen or so tribes, some of which had been living right on water, when the Eiwons arrived. Those that have not accepted the new way of life under the colonial authorities have been pushed back towards the interior, putting pressure on their fellow Zelalem or being forced to move on even further into the lands of the Amsalu People.

For ages unknown, they have survived farming sorghum, cotton and sugar, raising the native cattle, a beast called a Ralaia and by raiding.  Nearly every Zelalem warrior (whom are all male) is also a farmer and carries the basic weapons of the  Aiijan Coast, several long throwing spears and one short hafted thrusting spear, with a wide blade, almost as good at slashing, as stabbing, along with a Ralaia hide shield. Those who make a living being nothing more than a warrior, join small brotherhoods among their tribes, dedicating themselves to either the sword or the axe.

When the Eiwons first arrived, all of the Zelalem were eager to get their hands on the trade muskets, after watched demonstrations but in the past ten years, they have abandoned firearms as a coward’s weapon or calling them a woman’s weapon, after seeing muskets in the hands of rebellious or adventurous women from their own tribes, who have joined the Sulenia Native Contingent or more modern rifles in the hands of the female soldiers of the Republic of Ruca.

The standard dress for both sexes of the Zelalem and other Elvanti peoples near the Aiijan Coast is a simple pair of undyed cotton trousers, very loose around the legs but tight around the waist and ankles, often worn with colorful sashes around the hips. They often go barefoot or wear simple sandles.

The Izula are an interesting people. From the perspective of Eiwons, they are a human torso, with a dusky skin, many shades deeper than those of the Elvanti, set upon the shoulders of a horse like animal, with a coat of black and white stripes, each pattern unique. From time to time, a child will be born with a pure black or pure white coat. Such individuals are considered to be the most beautiful and to use the modern term, sex symbols. All four of their legs end in a hard hoof, perfect for breaking bone with a single kick. As a general rule, the Izula stand at around seven feet tall (from head to hoof, with three and a half to four between hoof and rump) and nine feet long, with a foot and a half tail.

For as long as the Elvanti have been living in their villages, the Izula have wandered the land, in nomadic family groups, ranging in number from ten to a few hundred. They live through hunting and raiding the Elvanti for foods and goods. However recently, several bands have settled in the colonies, working as messengers, carrying goods or those still craving war, joining the Native Horse.

The Izula find clothing to be ornamental, much like necklaces and rings, which means its not worn all that often. Belts with pouches however are normally worn by both sexes, along with a saddlebag-like setup worn just behind the front legs, within reach of their hands. Tassels worn tied around the legs are common decorations. The greatest humiliating and insulting thing that can be done to a Izulan is for a “two legger” to put a saddle over their backs and riding them like a horse.

Doirn are found on Eiwon but its argued their not native. They appear human at first, quick glance, standing just as tall and often dressed the same. However on closer inspection, one will notice the light tan fur, with small black strips, which covers them, except for face, most of the chest and stomach, groin and inner thighs. Next one would notice the strangely slitted eyes, much like a cat’s and the small tail, much like a bobcat’s.

It is said in years past memory, wizards once openly experimented on creating life and this was how the Doirn (which is what they call themselves) were created. Some humans and most Doirn on the other hand, argue that they are a natural race, who simple existed in small numbers up in the mountains, until humans went up there and brought them down. Which ever the case, they are generally treated as second class citizens but have recently been immigrating in droves to the colonies. Humans may treat them as lesser beings but they great a great deal more respect and opportunity than the natives there.

Moving on, the organizations our characters can be drawn from.

Ticknor Detective Agency
Often called Ticknors or Ticks if being insulting, the Ticknor Detective Agency was founded thirty years ago, as a private detective agency. Successful, the company has grown in leaps and bounds, its detectives offering a wide range of services to those that hire them. Much like the Pinkertons of our world, Ticknors can act as bodyguards, bounty hunters, security for shipments, express messengers, strikebreakers or just as goon squads.

There are no uniforms for the detectives, the company simply issues each one of it’s employees with a bronze, shield shaped badge, with the words, Ticknor Detective Agency, engraved upon it. Ticknors, when finding someone not among their ranks, wear one of their badges, are known to beat them within an inch of their lives. The company doesn’t issue weapons either but allows their detectives to carry what they deem necessary.

12th Regiment of Foot
One of the most decorated regiments in the Republic’s forty year history, the colors of the 12th are covered in battle honors from the Revolutionary Wars. Four years ago, they were rotated out from garrison duties back in Ruca, to serve in the Aiijan colonies, along with the 5th Regiment of Horse. The regiment is officially barracked in the Colonial Capital city of Rafast but has mostly been broken, either by company or into smaller platoons and stationed out in the small towns and farms along the frontier. Only one company has remained in the capital, along with the colonel.

Like other Eiwon armies, the Republic’s soldiers serving in Sulenia, continue to wear their wool uniforms. In the case of the 12th; a dark blue, five button tunic, black trousers, plain leather braces, black leather boots, black leather harness (worn over the tunic) for two cartridge boxes and sleath for bayonet and white pith helmet. The military also issues wool, light blue drawers and shirts for underwear but soldiers are allowed to buy their own and often acquire cotton ones. Each enlisted soldier is issued a single shot, lever action,  Service Rifle Model XV with a twenty-two inch bayonet. Officers are issued an infantry saber and are allowed to purchase their own revolver but the Army only issued .44 caliber ammunition.

Sulenia Native Contingent
The SNC was first raised by the Governor, from the local people, mostly the Elvanti, to serve as a labor pool for government building projects, in the Aiijan colonies, twenty years ago, when the colonies were first founded. However, even in the earliest days, the SNC was drafted as an auxiliary to the Army and has served mostly to bolster colonial defenses, as light infantry. With budget constraints and worries about arming the natives with modern firearms, the SNC is not issued uniforms or weapons. Instead they are given bright blue headbands and arm bands, to distinguish them and are allowed to bring their own weapons. One about one in six has a firearm, mostly old smoothbore muskets and nearly all of those are in the hands of female soldiers. As as in the Republic's Army, the SNC allows women to join.

It should be noted that the NCOs and officers of the SNC are human, mostly recruited from mustered out soldiers from Army regiments and they are issued a uniform of sorts, simple made, white cotton trousers and a tunic.

There are also a few companies of mostly human soldiers, which are only officially part of the SNC but consider themselves a separate force. Called the Native Horse, these companies have been raised from the sons and daughters of the ranchers, farmers and plantation owners, with a handful of the Izula. They wear their own civilian clothes, ride their own horses (in the case of the humans or doirn) and carry their own personal weapons under officers they elect.

Colonial Constabulary
Most law enforcement in the colonies is carried out by governor appointed sheriffs and their deputies. However the city of Rafast and several nearby towns are served by the Colonial Constabulary. First form along the purely civilian lines of the police offices back in Ruca, over time the Constabulary has grown into a paramilitary force, wearing red, five button tunics, black trousers and black top hats. Each officer carries a truncheon when on patrol but can be issued with revolvers and carbines, if they request it. The Constabulary is broken into several ranks, headed by the Commissioner, followed by the Inspectors, Head Constables and Constables.

Finally, character sheets

Code: [Select]
[b]Magic[/b]: (none or either a Gifted or Privileged Knack please and explain the extent of their abilities)
[b]Appearance[/b]: (pictures are acceptable but there must be a written description)
[b]Gear[/b]: (weapons and other things they carry)
[b]Sexual Preferences[/b]:

Oh and I mentioned a kind of cattle called a Ralaia. I'd like to explain a little more about them.

a form of indigenous cattle, the Ralaia are herding grazers for the most part. Nearly all of their diet is composed of Ruuma Grass with a number of other plants and a small amount of meat. Opportunistic, these cattle have canines and will eat any carrion they find (or make, should the herd trample a would-be predator). They stand at seven feet tall at the shoulder but their heads normally don’t push pasted the five-foot mark. Body length ranges from nine feet to twelve, with a four-foot tail. A massive dewlap hangs from chin to between the front legs of both sexes. Normal fur coloration ranges from black to dark brown to gray. Both sexes have a large set of horns that curve inwards. The bulls have a second set of horns, which shoot straight up between the first pair.

Their hide makes an exceptionally fine leather, strong and tough, without needing be to thick or rough. The large shields the Elvanti make from their hides will stop thrown spears and take several spear stabs or sword/axe blows before being torn apart.

My Character

Name: Theo Porden
Age: 32
Gender: male
Race: human
Magic: minor Gifted Pyrokinetic, the most he can do is light a candle or his pipe
Organization: Ticknor Detective Agency, senior detective
Theo Porden
(no tophat)

Standing at a good five feet and ten inches tall, Theo is a solid man, from a youth as a boxer and his adult life as a Ticknor. He has large, almost swollen looking knuckles, covered in old scars, which match a number of new scars along his chest and ribs, from several attempted stabbings. His hair, a light brown in color, is curly and slightly wild, resisting attempt to tame it. He normally allows his hair to grow several inches, covering the curly mass at the top of his head with a black bowler. His styles his facial hair, which matches that on his head in color and curliness, into what is called a friendly muttonchop. Bright blue eyes peer around a nose, which is remarkably straight for a boxer, with only a few slight kinks to suggest it was broken more than once.

Normally he dresses in a white shirt, gray waistcoat, gray sack coat, dark trousers, black leather shoes and his bowler. 
Gear: A Kabble & Knight Model 2, a six shot, .44 caliber, single action revolver, a Forbes & Sons Coach Gun, ten gauge double barreled, break open shotgun, a box of fifty .44 rounds, a box of twenty-five brass buckshot shells, pipe tin of pipe tobacco, reading spectacles, extra clothes, all carried in a leather travel box
Bio: Theo’s father was a soldier during the Revolutionary Wars and met his mother after being wounded in battle. After the wars had ended, his parents settled in the city of Tine and went about the business of starting a family, having seven children, with Theo himself being the youngest. Both his parents worked in the textile mills that dominated the city and it was expected Theo would end up working there too and he did, for a short time as a boy. He would be fired near the age of ten, for both attempting to pick an supervisor’s pocket and for then striking the man when he was caught. While disappointing to his parents, his older brother saw an opportunity, teaching young Theo the art of boxing, while the boy drifted between jobs.

From the age of fifteen, until twenty-two, Theo fought as a prize fighter in bare knuckle boxing matches, some of which were legal but mostly not. Halfway between his twenty-second and twenty-third birthday however, a Ticknor detective saw him in a fight and took the young man under his wing, promising a more exciting life and travel and fighting, working for the Detective Agency. For the past ten years, he has made a name for himself among the ranks of his fellow Ticknors, as a bodyguard and bountyhunter. Most of his work has been in the cities of the Republic, including three different times, where he has killed mages, which is why he was assigned as senior detective, for the assignment to the Aiijan Colonies.
Sexual Preferences: Straight, dominant, enjoys oral (giving and receiving), teasing his partner and spankings (giving). No to anything bathroom related.

A Prince's Companions
Low fantasy, medieval
Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide

The Prince's Companions are a small band of women, slected from the ranks of a guild known as The Sisterhood, who accompany each son of the ruling monarch, at all times. Everywhere from the confines of his bedroom, to the baths, to the library, the feasting halls, out hunting or the training grounds and to the battlefield.  They are to be his closest friends and his bodyguards, for the realm is a dangerous place for princlings. Upon the age of sixteen, a prince leaves the protection of his mother's solar (a separate tower or manor for the queen) and enters into a world designed to make sure the strongest and most cunning lord rules the land.

Royal brothers are not only encouraged but expected to kill each other nor is the royal household set in stone. Through cunning plot or force of arms, should a lesser lord take the crown, he shall be king (save in times of war). Of course that would put any of his kin, serving as a companion, under suspension. The death of each prince is investigated and should it come to pass, that a companion helped to slay her prince, then she and all of her family are put to the sword, even the new claimant to the throne. Throughout history, there are recordings of sisters fighting brothers, daughters fighting fathers and even sisters fighting sisters, to protect an unrelated man.

The Kingdom of Ahremberg

A nation roughly the size of modern France but with a more German feel to it. Subdivided into often feuding or positioning baronies, counties, principalities, duchies and grand duchies. Intermarried family squabble about who owns what lands, based on who they are related to and how far back their line has laid claimed to a forest, valley, farmstead or township. Small wars break out now and then, as one lord attempts to forcibly make his claim to another's lands. At times, such petty conflicts grow so large, that the King's army is made to intervene, least the conflict boil over into a civil war, as other great men pick sides, either in support or to simply settle old grudges.

The histories tell us, that the beginning of this grand kingdom, there was a tribe called the Remi and they were ruled by a king called Adalgis. They were threatened by an alliance of two tribes to the north, the Berglandlings and the Ahdenii. Now Adalgis was a weak man, in both body and spirit. He feared the death of his tribe and was prepared to submit to them but his younger brother, Gerold, a large and bold man, was not. On the eve before the King and his chieftains were suppose to go before their enemies and grovel, Gerold slipped into his brother's tent and murdered him, cutting of his head and sticking it upon a spear before the chieftains. As these greater men look on in horror, Gerold declared himself the new King, crying out that only the strong deserved to rule and snatched the crown from the head of his dead brother.

Drawing sword, Gerold lead the chieftains and their retainers on a night march, catching the camp of the allied kings by surprise. A short but bloody battle ensued, where Gerold slew both the King of Bergland and mortally wounded the King of the Ahdenii. Most of the lesser lords of the Ahdenii perished and their King begged for his people, even as he died, offering his daughter for Gerold's bride. Gerold accepted the King's offer, before the remaining Ahdenii nobles and then turned upon the Bergland troops still upon the field. They held their ground and many of their nobles yet lived but they were surrounded by the Remi warriors and worse yet, the surviving Ahdenii joined the ranks of the victorious Remi. Outnumbered and without their armor, the Berglandlings surrendered, pledging themselves to King Gerold.

After the great victory, peace did not come to the Remi people. Although their king offered his daughter to Gerold before most of the remaining Ahdenii nobles and they fought against the Berglandlings, the Ahdenii rejected Gerold as their king. Pretenders to the Ahdenii crown seemed to spring from the very ground, forcing the Remi to campaign against them for many years, until the last and greatest of their strongholds fell before the ever victorious Gerold. However, this only welted his battle lust and for many years afterwards, the combined Kingdom of Ahdenii-Remi-Bergland conquered other small nations around them.

Upon his deathbed, Gerold looked around at his many sons (for his loins were strong) and declared he would not split his kingdom among them but would hand over his bloody crown to his one surviving heir. His sons looked upon their father and each other in confusion, until one of the younger, standing in the back realized this was his one and only chance to be king and drew a seax from his belt, then stabbed one of his brothers, setting off a brawl around a dying old man. At the end of the day, only one son remained standing and took the crown from his father's cold hands.

So was set forth how kingship of Ahremberg was to be taken. It was not to be the oldest or a declared heir to the thrown but by the strongest of sons. The other noble families, as they intermarried with the royal line, began to follow suit, hoping to groom their own sons to seize the crown. Over time, the Consul of Temples, set forth rules to this game, after one brutal bastard call King Grimbert Babeslayer, removed all of his brothers, while they were still in the cradle, including killing one as he nursed from their mother's breast. From then on, all princlings, of any noble house were safe, until they reach manhood at sixteen.

Father's also tried to protect their sons with bodyguards but men were found unsuited to the task, as they either paved the way for their brothers to seize the throne or were found to still owe loyalty to their old lords in battle. Such men were still found to betray their change, even after laws were placed, in which a betrayer's family would be slain. A guard was needed that was more likely want to protect their families and so the kings turned to the daughters of the nobility, founding the Prince's Companions, from those who could never inherit titles and were therefore immune to the corruption of power struggles.

Over the years, a guild rose from this system. Referred to as The Sisterhood, they trained young ladies in the arts, from those expected for their gender, as well as statecraft and the martial skills they would need to serve a young lord (be he of royal blood or of powerful noble family), along with some talents, which are less then mentionable in polite conversation. While the lords of the land are not forced by law, to give their younger daughters to the Sisterhood, it is expected that they will. Either that or donate large sums to the guild. In addition to the young ladies of Ahremberg but a number of foreigners are within their ranks. As part of peace agreements with other nations, the warlords of Ahremberg make their foes surrender a tribute of young ladies to protect the sons of their conquerors.

Such a tribute serves a duel purpose, it keeps the lords of defeated lands form launching new assaults upon Ahremberg and provide dedicated guards for young prices and lords. In addition to the normal rules of the Sisterhood, where if a Prince's Companion allows her charge to die, the guild (with the Temple's support) descends upon their family with fire and sword, those coming from defeated lands, will also carry the burden of getting one in ten of their people killed as well. Of course, if her charge becomes King, she can attempt to use her influence over him to improve the lot of her people.

Because of the large numbers of tributes and the large family's of the nobility, the Sisterhood's ranks are swelled to the point where there are more ladies then can serve as Companions. While it has always been tradition that once a sister reach the age of twenty, that she was too old to join a Prince coming into his majority  but within recent generations, it has become a rule. This as left the guild with a surplus of combat train women on their hands. Some of theses ladies become teachers for the new sisters or other such staff in the guild buildings. Other form a small standing army, used to punish those who break guild law.

Prince Randolf

Played By: IrishWolf

Name: Randolf, son of King Volbrecht, of House Kaysser

Age: 17

Rank: Prince

Personality: First and foremost, Randolf is a survivor, he has bested death once already (at least in his own mind) and nothing in this world can kill him. Like his brothers and forefathers, arrogance, pride and ruthlessness flow in his veins, mingled with his blood.  The driving force of his life, is to take control of one of, if not the most powerful nation in the world and he doesn't give a damn if it's his hands or soul coated in blood to get there. Any who stand in his way, will be removed. However, if he does have one thing he loves in this world, its his hounds and woe to those who harm his pack of hunting and war dogs.

Backstory: Randolf is the seventh of eleven sons (among a number of daughters), fathered by King Volbrecht and the forth to be born to his wife, Queen Alveena, although, as is custom she is considered the mother of all eleven boys. The first six years of his life were rather uneventful, in terms of story telling at least, playing under the watchful eyes of his mother or the maids. However, midway through his seventh year, as he was about to begin his education, sickness swept into the capital city of Fellissa and was brought into the Queen's Solar by a common maid, who would later die. He caught Smallpox but survived, when three sisters and two brothers did not but it left him scared, mostly on his face.

When he had recovered from the sickness and was declared fit (sooner then his mother wished), he was placed at the whim of three old knights, who were charged in delivering to him the training he would need. As the son of a king, he didn't have the privilege of seven years as a page and then seven as squire, like lesser noble lads and was forced to learn hard and fast, everything they did in just eight. Long days of practicing with weighted wooden weapons, being knocked around by veteran warriors, until he could hold his own against them. He grew tall and strong under such masters, spending his nights studying for demanding but wizened old men.

He first saw a man die and helped in the killing of him, at the age of ten. Attending his father for the Harvest Feast, he was serving wine at the head table. Now the patter loaded with goblets was given to him by a new man, hired by the Majordomo to take over the wine cellar, unknowingly hiring a man loyal one the King's elder sons. The wine was laced with a vile herb, which caused one to die in a twitching fit, with bloody foam on the lips but luckily only one man at the table passed on, when he took a quick drink before the evening's first toast. Unfortunately he was the son of a visiting ambassador and the incident lead to a quick war.

Arts Studied: First and foremost, the art of war. Not just swordplay but of the great campaigns, of tactics and logistics, of how to rally men to his banner and lead them to victory. Tutored in the histories of his line and nation by aged scholars, they also crammed as much of mathematics and diplomacy as they could into his skull, along with reading and writing. One day a week, he attending class at the Temple, learning of the Gods and their will. Randolf has also had some education in the arts of the bed chamber, although physical lessons have been few and recent, as it is assumed he will learn those with his Companions but he shouldn't be completely inexperienced when he meets them.

Best Skills: As with any son of the nobility or royalty, a vast majority of his studies have been in the martial arts, of sword and shield, grappling and riding. Trained by knight's in his father's personal retinue, he has had a knight full training, condensed into half the years required and often brutal in it's regiment. In addition in his ability to fight, he also seems to have a natural talent, in the breeding of hounds and horses, seeming to know which beasts to mate, in order to get the desired traits in his mounts and dogs.

Weapon(s): Warhammer, arming sword, dagger and shield

Appearance: Randolf is the image of a warrior prince of the Kaysser line. Tall but still growing, he stands near to six feet in height and its speculated that he's either match or surpass his father's six and a half feet when he's finally done growing. Fit and trim from his training, with broad shoulders to carry the weight of armor and swing weapons make him an attractive figure, with shoulder length, nut brown hair, pulled back with a simple leather band. His face, with strong jaw and hooked nose might have been handsome, had it not been for the pox scars under his eyes, over his nose and across his brow. A broad scar runs from his hairline down to split his left eyebrow, a souvenir of a how close he came to dying during a training bout with sharpened steel. His hands are already callused from his years at swordwork and despite practicing in an open courtyard everyday, his skin only as a light tan to it. The pox scars continue to appear across his chest and back but not nearly as bad on his face. Clear blue eyes, hard and cold as ice, draw the gaze of those that look at him and stare back with the judging intensity of a hunting hawk.

For the past seventeen years, he's wore the colors of his mother's family, house Schomeck, black and yellow and his mother's sigil of a leaping doe. However, now that his is age, he will now be allowed to wear the colors of House Kaysser, blue and white and his own sigil of a snarling hound. His regular cloth consists of white linen braies (basically shorts that come down to his knees) and shirt, with a doublet and chausses. leather boots, with sword and dagger belted over his doublet complete the outfit.

When riding into battle, he wears a mail shirt, a brigandine, cuisses (mail leggings), leather and mail gauntlets, mail coif and a visorless sallet style helmet.

Cult of the Lust God
Fantasy, Modern Day/Near Future
Spoiler: Click to Show/Hide

With the end of the Wars of Religion, the mortals of Esmov, at least those that survived, turned their backs upon the Gods. For generations, even those of the long lived Elves and Dwarves, their faith has been in magic, science and philosophy, not the divine.  Great halls of learning and schools of engineering, took the place of temples and shrines. Those left still practicing their old religions were few in number and slowly, over the many many years, as their Gods failed to answer prayers, the true faith left them, leaving those who wanted to believe, unsure in their hearts, which robbed their prayers of power.

Sweeping change crossed the lands. Where once walled cities and castles dominated, sprawling centers of culture, industry and business bloomed, without walls or high fortifications, as weapons of gunpowder dominated the battlefields. Revolt and revolution tore apart the old orders of Men and Elves and even a few of the Dwarven realms. Kings were thrown down and in their place, republics, some of which endured and others transformed into empires. Machines of steam rattled down steel tracks, as smoke from factories rose high into the sky. And the world of Esmov progressed, until it reached an equal with modern Earth.

But the Gods were still there. Weakened after the Wars of Religion, from doing battle across the Divine Realm and aiding their mortal followers, they were unable to answer prayers. As their followers abandoned them, the worship they needed to restore their power disappeared. What few mortals remained, could not provide enough faith for the Gods to work miracles and when the prayers went unanswered, even that small trickle of power dried up. Nearly all of the divine were left to wail and gnash their teeth across the realm of the Gods, blaming one another and the folly of mortals, for the cataclysmic wars, which had destroyed them in the end. To curse the fact, they could no longer perform the grand gestures, which had won them thousands of worshipers.

But not all the Gods were so distraught. There were a handful, still with plans and abilities. Most were not true Gods at all but beings of immense power, more like Titans or Nature Spirits, which had existed before and fully formed alongside the Gods and thus, still drew power from the mortal realm, even without worshipers and their faith, because they were closer to the world, than the true Gods. One of these was Motarr, God of Lust, Intoxication and Indulgence. Like the other more, primal Gods, he drew a trickle of power when people gave in to their more based desires and that power was something he stored away, waiting for the right day.

And that day might just be here.

With the continual sexual revolution, all manner of distilling and brewing and all of the drugs this modern society has created, there has never been a world so fertile for the return of the Cult of Motarr. Calling the remaining Immortals in his retinue, the God prepares to set his plan in motion.

Alright, if you're still with me, hopefully you're interested in what the God of wine and tits has planned for his return.

So Motarr is going to call his retinue, a handful of beings, which aren’t Gods but they don't age, get sick or die, unless someone kills them. When the story starts, it's just going to be a couple of satyrs and a few nymphs. So he’s going to use the power he’s been hoarding for the past few centuries, to make his follower look human and slip all of them into the mortal world. Once there, they are heading to a nightclub, to seduce mortals, be they human, elf, neko or whatever. Whenever Motarr is around mortals, they tend to get frisky and the same applies to his followers and they all can make alcohol more potent or give it new properties, like making any drink an aphrodisiac.

In the morning, Motarr is going to transport his followers and whatever partner or partners they managed to get, back to the realm of the Gods. The plan is to convince them that he is a God and that they should worship him. To help that along, theres going to be orgies and partner swapping, while feeding the mortals ambrosia, nectar and wine made by Motarr himself, all of which will start physically affecting the mortals. The girls are going to find themselves getting curvier, going up in cup size. The guys are going to find themselves getting more physically fit and more impressive, with greater stamina.

The overall goal, is to make them priests and priestess of Motarr and then send them back to the mortal world. Once they get back, they’re going to start recruiting/corrupting other mortals and rebuild the cult, which is to say, a mystery cult. Only those in the cult, know whats going on and that would be drunken orgies in the name of Motarr, which will give him power. Power he’s going to use to let himself and his retinue back into the mortal world and join in.

Name: Motarr
Age: At least 20,000 years old, if not more.
Gender: Male
Race: God
Personality: As a general rule, Motarr is rather laid back, all about enjoying the pleasures in life but he can suddenly fly into fits of rage, which he works hard to keep under control. He is one of the few Gods, who enjoyed being in the mortal realm, content to spend each and every day, wandering across the land with his followers, sampling the local brews and dancing the nights away, before leading his cult in an orgy and falling asleep, in the arms of his female worshipers.
Sexuality: heterosexual

Motarr, like the other Gods, isn’t confined to a single form however he does have a preferred form, that of a tall human male. His height has changed over the years but currently, he stands at six and a half feet tall, with a toned, athletic body. Longish dark brown hair covers his head and a his cheeks and chin are covered in a thick beard of the same color. Both beard and hair are wildly curly. His skin is a finely tanned olive color and unmarked, save for the bottoms of his feet, which have been stained a dark, reddish color, as if he always bears the coloration of someone pressing grapes with their feet. Light brown eyes stare over a straight, strong nose.
Background: It is said that Motarr was the first to make wine. One day, as a youth, as he wandered the mortal world, he collected some grapes and put them in a leather bag, which he hung at his side. After walking for a long time, he grew tired and laid down to rest. In his sleep, he rolled over and crushed the grapes inside the bag but did not know it when he woke and continued on. After many days of walking in the hot sun, he was hungry and decided to eat the grapes but when he opened the bag, he found only juice, which had fermented. As he was also thirsty, he drank and was amazed by the flavor and alcohol.

He shared his discovery with the being he came across, Siax, who was one of the first Satyrs. Together the God and Satyr would refine how to make wine and be the first to cultivate grapes. They would share their gifts with first the Elves and then Men and finally Dwarves, whom they drunkenly stumbled over and learned of mead from. They also found that Dwarves were the once civilized race, which could drink the wine they made, without first mixing it with water.

It is said, that once, after sampling one of the wines he had, Motarr stumbled off and fell into a drunken slumber, from which he could not be awoken from. While he slept, a band of pirates came across him and thinking him the son of some noble, carry him off to their ship, intending to ransom him. When Motarr woke, he commanded the pirates to return him to the shore and when they refused and tried to bind his hands, he turned into a lion, slaying several, The rest were so frightened, they were driven to madness and leaped into the sea, where they were transformed into dolphins. Motarr then told those who had jumped into the sea, that if they saved enough drowning sailors, he might turn them back into men.

Motarr’s cult was destroyed early in the Wars of Religion. His followers, whom were secretive, keeping their rites to themselves, were looked down upon by the followers of more righteous powers, who considered them agents of sin. The other Gods themselves, looked at him in suspicion. He was neutral, refusing to declare to Light or Dark and spent most of his time with mortals, which would have made him the perfect spy, if he had ever thought of doing that.

The priests of the Gods of Light, spread vile rumors to their faithful, claiming that the followers of Motarr seduces the youth to the Dark Gods and tales of wicked deeds committed during his rites, including human sacrifice.  At this time, the Gods of Light invited him to the Realm of the Gods, for a party and he went, hoping to convince them to tell their followers not to harm his worshipers. Instead, he was betrayed and attacked, barely escaping, while his sole temple was besieged. It was here, that Siax, one of the oldest and wisest of the Satyrs would die, fighting to protect the followers of Motarr in a drunken rage.
Character’s Ons: Feisty partners, submissive partners, public sex, oral (giving and receiving), bondage, rough and wild sex, receiving body worship
Character’s Offs: Mutilation, scat, chastity
« Last Edit: September 05, 2016, 08:59:16 PM by IrishWolf »

Online IrishWolfTopic starter

Re: Had a Few Ideas M for F
« Reply #3 on: April 30, 2016, 03:10:00 PM »
Inspirational Images
So here we have a collection of lovely images, which tickle my muse. Most do not have a plot already forming or just a very very bare bones one. There will be settings, situations and possible characters, either females I would like someone else to play or males I would like to play.

Something new for me

I’ve never come across an attractive orc or rather, an orcess, in fact, I think I've seen more female goblins, then orcs before but I recently found these. Although I suppose it could be that these are half-orcs. Either way, I would be interested in plotting something out, with an orcess as the main female character. Fantasy setting, although the first one seems to scream out, Steampunk to me

Weird West

No real plot here yet but I have a craving for some weird west, time traveling or steampunk fantasy fun.



Bronze Age

Viking Age


Furs and Humans, nsfw

« Last Edit: February 12, 2017, 06:44:09 PM by IrishWolf »

Online IrishWolfTopic starter

Re: Had a Few Ideas M for F
« Reply #4 on: May 18, 2016, 04:29:24 PM »
Bump, overhauled and added new settings, plots and pictures.

Online IrishWolfTopic starter

Re: Had a Few Ideas M for F
« Reply #5 on: July 26, 2016, 08:39:40 PM »
New story idea, Made For Him

Online IrishWolfTopic starter

Re: Had a Few Ideas M for F
« Reply #6 on: September 05, 2016, 09:00:28 PM »
New Story idea, I Hate Loving You

Added a Group Game Setting, Cult of the Lust God

Online IrishWolfTopic starter

Re: Had a Few Ideas M for F
« Reply #7 on: October 14, 2016, 01:46:35 AM »
Reorganized and added to the Inspirational Images

Online IrishWolfTopic starter

Re: Had a Few Ideas M for F
« Reply #8 on: February 04, 2017, 12:29:56 PM »

Added new plots;

Icebound Mercy

Return of the Masters

From Ink to Flesh

Added new images;
new categories
Bronze Age
Ancient Egypt

new images in
Warrior Woman
Furs and Humans
Slave Girls
Stripper Pole
Random Furs