[NC-H] A Brutal New World (Sword & Sorcery)

Started by Mr Self Destruct, August 06, 2009, 11:56:51 AM

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Mr Self Destruct

The great cities have risen and fallen, and civilizations grip on mankind has grown weak.  Dark forces seek to renew forgotten covenants, and primordial beasts reclaim the wilderness.  The lands of mankind's strongest days have reformed into new continents, new realms, and new kingdoms.  Barbarians roam the frozen northlands, traveling the tundra to hunt the yeti and the elk.  Savage warrior tribes hunt the jungles in the southern wilds, taming beasts and their insatiable desire to explore.  The eastern provinces have reclaimed their honor, reclaiming the old ways for their new lives.  Westerners seek to conquer the wild forests, what had once been their own centuries ago.  This time is a survivor's time, where the strong rule
the weak, and the rich employ the strong.

There are four kingdoms in this new world:

Rendar: The main continent that the characters will interact in (though they may have journeyed from other lands).  It is a land of fuedal feifdoms, clannish highlands, private keeps, and barbarian encampments.  The landscape includes snowy tundras and icy peaks, sprawling deserts and arid wastelands, as well as thick forests and dense swamplands.  All manner of creatures wonder the landscape, and nearly all of them are predators.  However, the peoples of Rendar are a hardy folk, and have managed to carve out more of a space for themselves than those of other continents.

Gothir: A place of mystery and dark magic, the continent is home to deep caves and crevasses that hide all manner of dark creatures.  Typically, vampires come from this land, though they can be found anywhere in the world.  The continent consists mostly of dense forest, swarmy bogs, hidden lakes, and low mountain ranges.  The land holds the taint of evil, however, and many strange supernatural creatures dwell here, from bog hags that lure victims to their doom by posing as attractive men or women, to hideous flesh-eating zombies that relentlessly chase their prey while never tiring.

Damascus: A land of strange dark-skinned foreigners and shamanistic beleifs, the land is a primitive place with spots of civilization that help form the overall structure of the economy. Trade is based on a barter system, though coin helps to precipitate the flow of laws and decadence.  The land is a primarily arid place, with sprawling deserts and craggy plains.  Small oases help those nomads who know how to find them survive life in such a place, and the large cities that do exist are civilizations of decadence, wealth, and excess.  Many have made a fortune in the gambling dens of Damascus, only to lose it all when a rival slit their throat and stole their wealth.  Many harems exist in the land, and harem slaves are purchased from all around the world.  Typically, the more exotic, the higher the price that can be charged to the clientele.

Veshlenburg: Perhaps the most prosperous and advanced land in the world, Veshlenburg is a sprawling land of lush forests and farmland.  Villages dot the landscape, with well worn roads guarded by soldiers of the local regents.  The predatory creatures of the land have been pushed back into the wilderness, and are kept at bay by the sword and the magical wards that guard cities and towns from intrusion.  Many dark things dwell in the forgotten places of the land, however, and await their time to emerge from the darkness and terrorize the land.  The economy is based on a coin for goods basis, though smaller villages do still practice the barter system for goods and other necessities of life.


Humans: The most widespread and dominant of all the races that inhabit the world, humans are a steadfast and adaptable people, not only living but thriving in places that most would consider inhospitable.  Humans can be from nearly any land, though the majority tend to reside in Rendar for it's long history of their kind.  Their attitudes about other races and the events in their lives are as varied as the stars in the sky.  Humans are farmers, servants, warriors, wizards, healers, laborers, slaves, and anything else that requires a steadfast and adaptable species.

Elves: Elves are beings of magic, as unpredictable as the tides.  They reside in nature, manifesting to protect their homelands and to ward off intruders.  And while they are beautiful, there's is a primitive beauty (it should be noted that these are not your typical fantasy elves: Lord of the Rings, D&D, and any other 'sophisticated' elves need not apply.  For a good example of their appearance, refer to ElfQuest characters, though they are much taller in size, standing nearly as tall as humans).  Elves are known to be almost as widespread as humans are, though many of their women end up in harems, and their fighting men as gladiators.  A good number take up the path of sorcerer, seeking power and forbidden knowledge.  Some become deadly and quick warriors out of necessity, or the desire to avenge their stolen kin.  They are not well-trusted by others, though they are accepted by most.  However, a genetic
offshoot of elves with dark skin, red eyes, and a penchant for deceit has caused trouble for their lighter-skinned kin, and caused some to hate all elves.

Dragon-kin: Forged from the fiery belly of a dragon or the stony womb of a mortal woman, dragon-kin are a hybrid being of might and power.  Males tend to be brutish: incredibly strong but not terribly smart.  Females tend to be the opposite: cunning and quick, but not terribly strong, though they tend to be faster than their larger kin.  All dragon-kin share common physical features: a prehensile tail, usually scaly skin(though some have scales that are so soft as to be skin), leathery wings on their back, and foot claws.  Their hands can have claws as well, though many prefer to keep them trimmed and short.  Some have even grown horns, though it is unknown whether this is a commonality that others just keep hidden, or a trait of a certain branch of the dragon-kin race.  None of the dragon-kin breathe fire or any other element or matter.  This ability is specifically the forte of their larger and more brutish cousins, the dragon. 

Daemora: Sometimes worshippers of dark things offer themselves as the ultimate sacrifice, one of pain and blood and decadence.  These unions often result in the Daemora, a group of demonic near-human beings with an infernal heritage and a reputation to match.  Almost universally hated for their dual-heritage, the Daemora are often victims of hatred and segregation, though there are those who fight back, unleashing their infernal might against any who would oppose them.  Most commonly, Daemora become warriors and necromancers, though they can be of any persuasion, and the occasional goodly Daemora isn't unheard of.  All Daemora share common physical features: a thin, prehensile tail, usually tipped with a poisoned spike, curling horns on their foreheads, and bat-like wings that are almost translucent.

Shifters: Though very similiar in appearance to humans, shifters are more feral and dangerous.  They each have a totem animal that their spirit is drawn to, allowing them to shift into a form that is a hybrid of both forms.  Many dwell together in small villages, primitive and clan-like, often acting as raiders of nearby towns.  Though they are very effective in combat with their natural weapons (teeth, claws, etc), they also often weild melee and ranged weapons as well.  Many practice spirit magic, as well, becoming shamans and occult sorcerers for the good of their clan.  All Shifters share common physical features: clawed hands and feet, prehensile and furred tails, pointed ears, and small fangs.

Others: This is a broader category to include other offshoots of those described above (vampires, werewolves, fey-like creatures, etc), though they will require approval before play begins.

Rules & Reminders

1. No Technology: Though the world is technically a future version of the one we know, there is absolutely no technology to be hand.  No gunpowder, no cigarettes (people smoke pipes), no vehicles (people ride horses, and carraiges and chariots see high use), and no modern medicine (wounds are healed by magic or through the use of salves made from medicinal herbs and other vegetation).

2. Magic Has Returned!: The land is a cauldron of unstable magical energies that leak through the landscape.  Strange mutations do happen, spawning strange and hideous creatures that are unlike anything nature could conjure.  These energies can be harvested, though the process is long and tedious, and exceptionally dangerous due to magical eruptions that occur whenever ley lines are corrupted by outside sources. 

3. Be Prepared For Brutality: This is a mature forum, and this rp will push the boundaries of what some are comfortable with.  The world is a savage one, and bad things do happen, especially to good people.  The warrior who splits his opponents head open with his axe isn't about to worry what the girl with him thinks of his brutality when facing off against a necromancer who wants to peel his flesh.

4. No God-Moding: Just like the general rules and guidelines say, god-moding isn't allowed.  No auto-hits, no unerring magical attacks, etc will be allowed.

5. Basic Rules Apply: Be descriptive in posting, paying heed to spelling and grammatical correctness.  Likewise, try to refer to other player characters, to give others a sense of involvement.  Don't get too ahead of the storyline, and remember that not all threats can be defeated by one character.  Give others a chance to shine.

Character Profile

Character Name:
Appearance: (Use link where appropriate)
Weapons/Talents: (Talents denote any special abilities: sorcery, healing, etc)
History: (Please be as descriptive as possible!)

Inspirations For This Game
Conan the Barbarian and other Robert E. Howard books and characters.
Heavy Metal (The Movie)
D&D 4th Edition


Heh, I'll join this. While I'm still hoping the Morrowind RP will get one or two people so I can get it starterd, I just want to get some fantasy RP done.

Just a question: Is this a freeform RP?

It's so easy when you're evil
This is the life, you see
The Devil tips his hat to me
I do it all because I'm evil
And I do it all for free
Your tears are all the pay I'll ever need


I too would love to join!  Let me throw a character together.


Looks like loots of females already so I will make a male char.
Character Name: Shale Ekks
Appearance: His hair is dark and dull, coated with years of sweat and blood, though Shale is only 28 his mane contains many grey hairs that show a man who has had a tough life.  His skin is pale almost grey and his eyes a steely hazel that doesnt much glisten anymore.  His chest is shirtless, exposing his battle hardened body no scars and even less hair.  On each forearm he wears ornate bracers that go from wrist to elbow covered in carved steel and dark black gems.  Across his back is a very large sword, its pommel nearly a foot and a half long and the blade nearly four feet longer and 8 inches across.  The metal is dark and it looks to have never been sharpened from the day it was created, but looks just as sharp as it probably did that day.  Shales looks like there is no way he could lift this sword but seems to with ease.

Weapons/Talents: Shale Carries a large two handed sword called "Kryoak" It is a sword that was hidden in a crypt that only opens in times of great suffrage.  While holding this blade Shale's power is increased 10 fold.  A wicked blade for wicked times it can maim and render its foe.  Shale knows of its evil but has accepted it for the time being as it is a means to an end of these troubled times.  He has carried it for 8 years now and has learned to use it to a great degree, but its mere size tires him out quickly still. Recently he has noticed that when he doesn't have the sword near him he feels weak and depressed.

History: Although Shale grew up the son of the village shaman, learning the trade of healing and care giving when the crypt opened and the sword was found he was the only one pure enough of heart to wield it and not have his soul tainted by it immediately, his clan has given him the quest to find a way to destroy it.

Hows that?


I'd be interested. Let me put together a sheet later tonight.
Nitpicking naysayers barking like beagles, through the tall grass of poisonous tongues
Slide down your throat like an antidote you can quote...



I would love to play this! I will set to work on a bio.
I dreamed a dreamed, life has killed the dream I dreamed. So....I dream a NEW DREAM!!! never let them see you cry.


Interesting!  I'm familiar with the inspirations, save for Elfquest. 

I'd like to put together a male human wizard from Veshlenburg.  It might take me a bit to put together a detailed background.
Look!  I have an ons and offs list now!  https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=13580.0
It's still really sketchy, though.
Here are my dice rolls: http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/player/WyzardWhately/


Username: ObsidianRae (Obviously?)
Char Name: Magdala
Race: Dragonkin
Age: Older than she looks
Sex: Female


Red scales dot her frame, not fully scaled, but instead having large patches of ruby hued scales that fade into her remarkably pale skin. They cover her strong, sinuous tail, the outside of her legs, her sides, and arms. A few triangular patches point inward from her temples and forehead, vanishing into her hairline.
Her body is lithe and slender, well proportioned despite her petite frame, hands slender, expressive with their movements. Her hair is inky, shiny black, and falls well past mid-thigh. It is usually seen held in two places by strips of red silk, or in braids, as it's length makes it hard to control. Ruby red horns curve away from her forehead, set in the sea of black tresses, a small silver teardrop charm hanging from the tip of the left one. Her eyes are a dark, intense violet, with bright flashes of crimson, blue, and green in them when in the right lighting, like a high quality black opal. 
She wears an ankle-length robe-like top of green, that buttons over her chest and remains open from there down, revealing the ring of scales around her pierced navel, and the silver hoop from which dangles a ruby teardrop. Beneath this is her belt, which holds a small dagger and several pouches, resting low on her hips, over the simple, white, loose pants that brush the tops of her clawed feet. From her right ear hangs a small, oval shaped red stone, the left ear having a similar piercing but with a small white, blue tipped feather dangling from it. Etched silver bands circle each of her thumbs, and a bracelet full of various charms and bits of semi-precious stones hanging from it on rests on her left wrist.


Magdala is first and foremost a sorceress, her element of choice being fire, and to a lesser extent having some talent with healing. (Minor to moderate wounds she can heal completely, more serious she can only help to heal more quickly) From lighting a candle with a thought to casting fireballs at her enemies, she is skilled with handling flame, though only her own magically created fire won't burn her. She can shape pre-existing flame, to some extent. Say parting the flames of a burning building long enough to run past, but if she touches them they still burn her as they would any others. She carries an intricately carved staff, decorated by small gems and strips of cloth, the carved runes helping her focus her power. Without it, she tires much more quickly from spellcasting.


Magdala was born to a human woman, who unfortunately died in the process. She was raised by the small village the woman had lived in, without having any one real parental figure. As soon as she was mature, by Dragon-kin standards, Magdala wandered. Her journey was not to escape a past, but to gain knowledge. It is her ultimate goal in life to be the best sorcerer she can be, and besides that, she simply enjoys learning. She hasn't had anything that unusual happen in her life, she keeps to herself aside from when she happens across someone who can teach her something. She traveled through Gothir to reach Rendar, still searching for knowledge, and perhaps a great mage to apprentice under.

The night has a thousand eyes, And the day but one; Yet the light of the bright world dies, With the dying sun


Username:  LadySky
Character Name:  Nalon Chaoshawk
Race:  Elf (Father was a darker skinned/red eyed Elf & Mother was natural Elf)
Age:  19
Sex:  Female

Appearance:  5'5/137 lbs. Silky Blue hair kept cut short in a pixie style. Pale creamy skin, soft and smooth. Naturally elvish ears. Her bright red eyes give away her fathers wicked heritage and she oft looks to the ground hoping to not be looked at in the eyes. Extremely well endowed, her body is very very curvy and plump. Her breasts almost look to big for her tiny boned body and her bottom is generous and round.

Weapons/Talents:  Carries a large dagger on her hip, a gift from her Grandfather. Made of polished steel it has one small jewel embedded in the hilt, a shining sapphire stone. Imbued with magic the dagger is virtually indestructible, Nalon is not an expert at its use however. Nalon's talents lie in the magical world. An affinity with animals is her strongest ability, she can communicate and calm even raging beasts. A small amount of empathic ability is her backup strength, she can communicate telepathically with other telepathic beings and read thoughts if close enough and not distracted. She must work at this however and does not like to do it much. Her father was said to be very very powerful in the dark arts and Nalon believes this because she can cast spells easily and has a strong desire to learn dark magic, a desire she fights.

History:  Nalon's mother was the 7th daughter of a 7th daughter. Due to her powerful abilities magically a very evil and very wicked Elf male took Nalon's mother captive to use her to breed heirs. He wanted a son but Nalon's mother produced only females, everyone killed immediately after birth. Nalon was the 7th attempt and before she was born Nalon's mother escaped and successfully found her family's village. The members of her village protected her and eventually killed Nalon's father as he was attempting to retake Nalon's mother. Nalon was feared by all in the small village but all did their best to accept her and treat her kindly. Her amazing red eyes and extreme high spirit set her apart all to much however. Now 19 Nalon has decided to leave the safety of the forest and the fear she always sees in others eyes.

Personality:  Quiet and well mannered Nalon tries her very best to be kind, generous, and accommodating. Underneath her shy facade however she is passionate, hot tempered, and very very dangerous. She hates the side of herself she knows comes from her evil father but also longs to be free to indulge her wild passions. She loves nature and animals and protects all of them fiercely.
I dreamed a dreamed, life has killed the dream I dreamed. So....I dream a NEW DREAM!!! never let them see you cry.

Mr Self Destruct

Kirei: Yep, it's entirely freeform.

gnoah: Great character, but I'll ask that you tone down the power of the sword.  Something that powerful is just too unbalancing to the other players, and automatically makes me think of an unstoppable auto-hitting instrument of death.  Other than that, you're good to go.

ObsidianRae: Fantastic character, and you're all set!

LadySky: The same!  Great character, and you're good to go!

I'll be working up my own character within a couple of days.  I'd like to start this either Sunday night or Monday, but we'll see how many more are interested in joining and go from there. 


I think I'll poke this idea. Here's a quickie.

Username: The Villain
Character Name: Dargon Highborn, "The Necromonger"
Race: Daemora
Age: 22
Sex: Male

Appearance: Like typical male Daemora his ram-like horns wrap around his head and his thin tail ends in a sharp and poisonous looking barb. Unlike normal Daemora he seems to have no wings. His skin is tinted red, which suits him fine. A little better looking then average he dresses well if darkly. Not particularly tall or strong, he does look like he can pack a nasty surprise. The overall impression is that of a bookworm dressing for his own funeral- which in way he is.

Weapons/Talents: "The Necromonger" is a title meant as an insult but one Dargon is fine with. On the surface his powers seem like that of a typical Daemora Necromancer, but there is an important difference in the actually mechanics of what he does. While a Necromancer commands and enslaves the dead, Dargon instead talks to and cuts deals with the dead. This path of power is considered dangerous and is often sold as immature, like Necromonging is the Necromancer equivalent of wetting the bed.

However, if this is done on purpose and if the Necromonger can resist falling into madness this has it's advantages. Being in constant communication with the dead, Dargon is privy to a whole library of secret knowledge- from martial arts moves to safe combinations to personal secrets of the living to mediation techniques to tactical information on opponents. Considered very talented but very young by Necromancer standards, Dargon can animate the dead into battle- but only for about 10 minutes a day if he uses only one zombie. More powerful forms of undead or multiple undead eat up this time faster. However, it's interesting to note that sense he's working with the dead in the animation process his zombies tend to be very fast and powerful in comparison to individual zombies of other necromancers. Not enough to counter the armies other, more experienced Necromancers can raise- but enough to give opponents a nasty shock.

History: A proud daemora from among the Gothir Necromancers, Dargon was at one point considered a child prodigy among them. However, with the discovery that he was talking to and making deals with the dead instead of simply commanding them he was quickly ostracized as a ticking time-bomb ready to go nuts at any moment. Undaunted, Dargon began wandering the world- looking for (dead) masters of the art to further his power. It's difficult to say what his end goal is, but with his ruthless personality he seems to be looking for revenge against his home coven- or anything up to world domination.
My O/O's / My A/A's / My Ideas
Update - Apologies to all my partners, real life is exploding and I've gotten far behind.

Mr Self Destruct

Nice character, Villian.  You're approved, sir. :D


Username: Brittlby
Character Name: Mezolene Myndar
Race: Human
Age: 23
Sex: Female

Appearance: Beauty is a terrible burden... In a harsh world, obsessed with ownership, beauty can be more of a curse then a blessing. Crafted by nature, Mezolene Myndar was proof positive that there is some force guiding creation, her skin just the proper shade, her eyes perfect in size, set in a angular yet effeminate face. Her nose the sculpted perfection that has eluded even the master painters throughout time. Mezolene's hair hung in beautiful tresses, wild and lively in their tight red curls.

    Even her one notable imperfection, a black blemish dappling her chin, seemed to accent her loveliness... To say nothing of the fact she had a pair of breasts of excessive size, yet perfect proportion, defying numerous laws of gravity with a pert glee. These she tends to wedge into a french corsette, topped by a pastel satin dress. Surprisingly spry for a lady of such stature, weighed down by that much fabric, she seems well versed in all matters of the court and the merchant's bazaar. Her arctic blue eyes are unsettling however, possessing a certain predator's glee to them.

Weapons/Talents: Her only weapon is a thick length of rope she calls "Mrs. Phyx". It seems to demonstrate mystical properties, moving on it's own, reminiscent of a so called "indian rope trick". Mezolene has a natural affinity for necromantic arts, speaking the tongues of the dead without any apparent difficulty, as well as provide the departed with brief periods of animus. Not properly schooled in the arts, she lacks the ability to command armies or properly resuscitate the dead. Not so much a puppeteer as simply one who has an intuitive knack, she utilizes the dead as a natural extension of herself. The dead are her weapon, and she wields them in frightening ways that are both crude and frightening to even her own ilk.

A skilled courtesan, she is Damascus trained in the carnal arts. Her reputation is one of "Negotiator", and she has garnered some renown as being able to settle disputes between the peoples of Rendar with... substantially reduced bloodshed. Blackmail, seduction, and fear are her weapons of choice... though strangulation deaths go up in any village she's staying, making one wonder if she doesn't occasionally enjoy getting her hands dirty.

History: Phyx, a name synonymous with infamy. "The Angel Maker". Thirty years prior, Mrs. Phyx woke one morning in her dingy home. A seamstress by trade, she eeked out a living by providing clothing to the lower echelon's of the wealthy elite of Damascus. The morning was like any other, except that this was the day the angel would speak to her.

The angel had nothing but it's voice, and it whispered to her. It told her secrets. Trivial things about her neighbors or her property or even her customers. Lonely and worn from a life of crushing ennui, the angel became her only true friend. And over time, it became more... intimate.

Though his voice was as sweet as honey, there was only so much a whispered caress of breath could accomplish. Mrs. Phyx hit upon an idea, no doubt guided by the words of her angel.

To make him a suit of flesh...

In Damascus, no one missed the occasional vanishing debtor or vagrant. She chose each piece of her angel carefully, spending months finding the slender hands she favored. Eyes of arctic blue. Lips, firm and thin. With needle and thread she put together her angel, piece by piece. When she finished, her angel put on the suit of flesh, and sat up, taking a moment to grow accustomed to the fit.

Made to love her, the angel did just that. It lay with her each night, leaving each day. The disappearances continued, though Mrs. Phyx paid this no mind. It never occurred to her that there might be more "angels"...

Her "angel" had begun to gather ever more flesh, piecing together an army that would sweep across the land of man and take a bloody toll upon the mortals. Or so it would have been, but for the discovery of the demonic invasion. The fallen angels were burned, their suits of flesh reduced to ash. Nothing more then a voice once more, her angel offered little comfort to Mrs. Phyx as she was led to the gallows...

And it is in the gallows our story begins.

Amongst the refuse, human and otherwise, in the depths of the gallows pit there arose the gurgling cry of a newborn. Pulled from the depths, it was assumed that the child was discarded to die by a careless mother. It wouldn't have been the first time. With dark smooth skin of a Damascus girl, she was noted as exceptional for her brilliant pale blue eyes. Having scarcely breathed, she was a treasure for the harems already.

Raised to know the intricacies of desire, she surpassed her teachers rapidly. While none knew of her true mother, Mezolene was well aware of her lineage. She spoke to her almost daily. Eager for any excuse to visit the gallows, jokingly, they began calling her Little Death. She never missed a single hanging in sixteen years...

When it was retired for a larger venue, she paid off an executioner to assure that she receive the killing rope as a memento. Despite her morbid tendency in this regard, her company was much sought after. Elegant and lovely, she embodied the exotic flavor of Damascus, she wore the aloof and untouchable perfection of a lady of standing... while being amongst the most jaded of harlots once the bedroom door was closed.

She was nineteen when she first heard the angel. Knowing full well who he was, she was less than receptive to his wishes. He wanted her to kill for him. To make a suit of flesh that he could inhabit, as her mother before her had done. Offering her her dreams, she was too well acquainted with the promises men made when passion ran high, and how quickly they were broken when they got what they wanted.

Mezolene gathered her funds, purchasing her freedom for a piddling amount of her savings. Setting out to Rendar, the silence was brief. The angel found her where ever she settled, bringing horrors in his wake. And so she became a traveler. Grasping great bloody fistfuls of life, she enjoys every day, seeking out new lands and people, dead and alive. A life without limits or moral qualms, she lives by only one rule...

Never stop.

It's rare that she spends more than three days in a single city. Those rare occasions she has dillydallied have brought the wrath of her father. A whispered voice on the wind, his carefully chosen words can bring down kingdoms.
Nitpicking naysayers barking like beagles, through the tall grass of poisonous tongues
Slide down your throat like an antidote you can quote...


Mr Self Destruct

Wow...just wow.  Fantastic back-story!  You're in Brittlby. :D


Sorry came off as I hadn't expected, i think its all fixed.


I noticed there are a lot of female characters as it is... But oh well. And sorry, this is going to be a long one >_<

Username: Kirei
Character Name: Louise Loire
Race: Human
Age: 27

Appearance: (link) She is five and a half feet tall. When she is not wearing her armors, she is often seen wearing a black, body fitting gown. The silky gown with her pale appearance makes her look a little bit like a vampire. A person who has encountered a vampire might be cautious with her. She, however, is not a vampire. Her body is quite well toned, her muscles, while they are not big are somewhat visible. She has a tattoo on her lower back. The tattoo represents a grapevine that reaches upward. Each grape represents a person that has met their fate by her mace. On her back, just below her left shoulder there is a branding mark of a slave, telling its story of her history along with the almost faded scars that appear along her body from the numerous whippings she endured during her years in slavery.

Weapons/Talents: She has used a blunt weapon as long as she can remember, wether it has been a club or a branch of a tree, they have been used effectively by her hands. For the last six years she has carried a steel mace with her. Big enough to be used with two hands, but just small enough for her to swing it with just one.

She isn't a well trained warrior, so that takes away from her skill in combat. She is however incredibly talented and physical for a woman her size. A lot of her skills come from experience. Wether it has been in slave rebellion, or when she has had to use physical means to defend herself, she has always been ready to fight. Lately, for the last few years, she has trained herself to become better systematically. Still her greatest strength lies in her ferocity and her ability to never give up, to always go on no matter how desperate the situation seemed. In comparsion to a well trained knight, she isn't a better warrior, but probably much more determined to win than most of them.


Chapter 1: Prologue

"Uh... This one is ferocious..." The man grunted as he dragged a red haired girl with him toward the cages. His hand was bleeding from scratches and the new bitemark seemed to be really deep. The man was a slaver. His friends laughed "Shows she is healthy, worth every penny I'd say." One of them remarked. The man dragging the girl grunted again "And every scratch and bite, I hope" He commented back.

Louise didn't understand their speech, they were speaking some foreign language. But she did realize they were laughing at her. Her nose was bleeding from the punch the man had landed on her face since her last bite. She had stopped her struggling after that. She had all but given up, she was just gathering up her strength and wits for the next attack. Her eyes noticed a fist sized stone laying on the ground nearby and her plan was forged. She kicked the man in the knee. The man groaned and stopped for a moment. A moment was just long enough for Louise to grab the stone from the ground and hit him on the fingers with it. The grip loosened and Louise was free. She ran like never before, but suddenly she felt a stinging pain in the back of her head and she felt her body going limp. She didn't feel her body hitting the ground as everything rapidly went black.

Chapter 2: Slavery

Louise had lived in that military camp as long as she could remember. She had been bought there by their leader, man called Shenk. It was really more of a nest of criminals, they were warriors who lived by raiding villages and by demanding tributes from traders that passed nearby. Tributes for protection. It was funny, since there was no one else in the area that they would have needed to be afraid of, except those who they bought their protection from. What was Louise doing in a place like that? She didn't like the way they lived and what they did. Well, there was a simple explanation: She was a slave.

Louise didn't really remember much of her life before the slavery. She had been eight years old when she had been captured, and the hit in her head had damaged her memory. She still had a habit of forgetting things and that often brought her problems in the camp. Punishments for mistakes were severe for the slaves. Often ten whip slashes were not enough and public humiliation was used in addition. Her pride had been taken away from her hundreds of times in front of everyone, in such ways that if she was someone else, she couldn't have lived her life with the burden she carried. She, however wasn't anyone else. She would never let them win she would never give up her fighting spirit.

She lived the life of a slave for eleven years. She sure wasn't a dream slave, for during her time in the camp she never learned to fully obey. That of course led to the numerous punishments, which the men of the camp often thought were quite much fun and enjoyable. Maybe that was why she never was made an example, like some other slaves, whose life ended before they should have. It took her eleven years to form a plan with the other slaves in secrecy. Her plan had been destroyed many times before when some of the slaves had lost their spirit and given up, but after eleven years she finally had group large enough to go with her rebellion. There still were less slaves than there were warriors in the camp, even if she had managed to even turn a few warriors to her side, using less than honorable ways to obtain their trust. The warriors outnumbered the slaves two to one.

The plan was carried out one midnight in the summer she had turned nineteen. The few warriors that Louise had convinced to join them, were guarding the slave pens, or killing the few other warriors that were on the guard duty. In the silence of the night the slaves begun to execute the plan, which was to execute the people in the camp. Everything went fine for a while, but eventually they were noticed and alarm was raised. It resulted in a full blown battle. Where the slaves were inexperienced with a weapon, the warriors were sleepy and confused.

In the end, the rebellion ended victoriously, if one could say that, less than twenty slaves were still standing when Louise went into the leader's tent. To meet Shenk for the last time. Even if she got her revenge, which wasn't a pretty thing to behold, she felt empty. She had nothing in her life. Most of the slaves had died in the rebellion unlike she had planned, the others had nowhere to go. Louise gathered some valuables and took the weapons and armors she still wears today, even thought they are modified to fit er better. She told the others to do the same, and to try to find a new life. She was the rebel leader, she should have been able to do better than that, but she didn't know what to do. She felt too guilty for the others and she couldn't go with them, so she left by herself to look for her own destiny.

Final Chapter: The mercenary.

Louise didn't have any special skills, she barely spoke the language common to the area. She only knew how to be a slave, and how to fight for herself and the others. Eventually she ran out of money. She needed an occupation to keep herself alive, even if she didn't know what for. Her life was somewhat empty, she had no goals or anything to achieve in life anymore.

She became a mercenary, or a paid killer, as she often refers to herself. The way she speaks of it, makes it clear that she is not proud of what she does. She is able to choose her own targets most of the time, and she is motivated by vengeance. She kills those who slave others most likely, but also murderers have special place in her vengeance filled mind, for some of her memories have returned to her, including how her parents met their fate in hands of one.

Personality: Louise has never involved in a romantic relationship in her life. After she escaped from the slavery, she has never even kissed a man. She is socially terribly awkward and tries to keep conversations in a minimum. If someone tries to make a romantic move on her, she might start to panic. In her memories only those terrible men who hurt her and humiliated her, or only wanted one thing of her had made such attempts.

She is quite caring deep inside, but she covers it up, appearing cold and rude to everyone. She doesn't want to let anyone close to her since only thing closeness has ever brought to her is misery. She will always fight to the last breath to help those who she cares for, but later she would claim that she did it for her own selfish reasons, and it had nothing to do with her.

One thing is for sure. She doesn't like it if someone tries to prevent her from doing something. She is stubborn and determined, and she will do just what she has decided to do unless someone cocks her lights out.


It's so easy when you're evil
This is the life, you see
The Devil tips his hat to me
I do it all because I'm evil
And I do it all for free
Your tears are all the pay I'll ever need

Mr Self Destruct

Nice character Kirei, and you're all set.

For the foreseeable future, I don't think I'll be taking anymore female characters.  Male characters can still be added, as it were, to further balance things out.  We'll go from there, though, should the need arise for more to be added to the story.

Here is my character:

Username: Dark Clown
Character Name:  Maenalus
Race: Daemora
Age: 32
Sex: Male

Weapons/Talents: Maenalus carries a simple short sword, sheathed at his hip.  While it is an expensive blade, the enchantments on it are minor, especially compared to the other magical items in his possession.  His cloak is one that can turn its wielder invisible to the naked eye, and the belt he wears contains many different, often exotic, spell components, items and triggers that activate his inborn magical ability. 
History:  The Daemora sorcerer traveled to Rendar to escape the savagery and danger of his homeland of Gothir.  The dangerous creatures there were a constant threat, even to one as mighty as he, and gathering what goods he possessed, he booked passage on a merchant vessel to the more civilized lands to the east.  The talented mage quickly found that life in Rendar wasn’t what he had imagined it to be, as magic is feared and its users often distrusted, if not killed.  The peoples are a hardy folk, but they distrust magic and those who rely on it, and are often more than willing to exile those that practice it.
Forced to become something akin to a thief to survive, the Daemora bided his time until the right moment.  He picked pockets, stole food to eat, and even managed one or two profitable tomb robbings…these of course, masked his true intentions.  Deep in the forests surrounding the Port of Brennan was a hidden temple, a place of worship for a long forgotten deity of the old gods.  Hidden inside the place, it was rumored, was an artifact of unimaginable power, one capable of summoning the gods themselves, if the stories were to be believed.  Watching and waiting, the sorcerer bid his time until those strong enough to survive such a journey arrived. 

Mr Self Destruct

The opening post has been placed and the game is ready to begin!


Question time!

Shouldn't we have an OOC thread for OOC stuff?

Do we have a posting order or should we just post when something comes up? (given it doesn't take away the change to react from someone else.)

It's so easy when you're evil
This is the life, you see
The Devil tips his hat to me
I do it all because I'm evil
And I do it all for free
Your tears are all the pay I'll ever need

Mr Self Destruct

Good point.  I'll make an OOC thread.  As far as posting goes, just try not to get too far ahead of everyone else.  I don't really want to make everyone post when they're not feeling it, but if anyone thinks they're falling behind or can't catch up, then we'll need to slow things down to give members a chance to get back into the storyline.


This game has peaked my interest.

Are you still accepting new players and would a late post time delay your story to much? I usually can only post after 3 am central is why I ask.
My ON'S and OFF'S:

I'll do whatever pleases but I'll bleed 'em in the end.

My BDSM test results.

Mr Self Destruct

We're looking for one or two male characters yes.  As for your posting schedule, if you can commit to posting at least once a day late (assuming that everyone else has posted, of course) than everything could work.  What type of character were you thinking of playing?


Sorry if this is a little rough it has been a long night. Here is my concept.

Username: Kathadon
Character Name:Valentine
Race: Shifter
Weapons/Talents: Valentine has been indoctrinated into the assassin cult of the Bloodied Hand since he drew his first breath. He is an expert in the Hand’s forms of martial combat, which is typically a rather brutal and fast assault in order to kill or cripple one’s enemies as expediently as possible with a mix of acrobatics for evasion. He prefers blades of all types, but is proficient in most weapons. He is also a master at using everyday objects in rather lethal ways.

From his time at the court of his Voice he has developed the uncanny ability to blend into the background so completely as to be unnoticeable; through subtle changes to his posture, demeanor, or costume. He is not above acting weakened or docile to gain surprise on a foe. There is no honor amongst killers, only the dead and the living.

He has been taught to restrain the more feral urges of his lineage under the direction of the masters in the order, but he uses the natural tracking talents of his race to keep a sharp eye, keen ear or nose, as the case may be, out for threats. While he is loath to lower himself to using tooth and claw in combat he is not above doing so when the situation demands.

Hoping to improve his usefulness his Voice ordered him to learn numerous skills. Including: Holstilic medicine, herbology, cooking, brewing, needle point, and is adept at using and mixing poisons.

History: Given as a cradle gift at 4 to the youngest daughter of House Dracunulus of Damascus, Valentine has known no name besides boy for most of his young life. Trained in the ways of the court assassin by the order of the Bloodied Hand since he could walk, Valentine was seen as a prodigy. Born to a captive shifter female, the young boy was marked for his exotic nature by the Order. Hoping to harness the abilities of a shifter melded with the skills of the Order they trained the young boy.

Purchased by the patriarch of merchant House Dracunulus as a body guard and playmate for his daughter to be, Valentine was branded by the silver wyvern the symbol of a favored house slave. Taught to obey the every command of his Voice, he has been a constant shadow at the girl’s side all her life. He has proven his worth by foiling no less than three separate assassination attempts and abductions by rivals of House Dracunulus.

On his eight birthday he was given his name by his mistress when she presented him with a crudely cut out heart. When he looked in askance at her for the strange gesture she responded, “that he would always be her Valentine, until they both drew their last breath.”

A few weeks ago while touring her father’s holdings his Voice snuck off and met with a group of treasure hunters without him. Angry at the stupidity of such reckless actions Valentine requested that any further meeting between her and these strangers take place when he was present. In response his Voice drugged his evening meal so she could sneak off and has not returned. Knowing that his duty is to retrieve or avenge his mistress Valentine has set off alone following the trail abroad.  A loyal hunting hound off his leash for the first time seeking his mistress.

He has booked passage on a ship sailing to the last known location the abductors are known to have gone. Rendar.
My ON'S and OFF'S:

I'll do whatever pleases but I'll bleed 'em in the end.

My BDSM test results.

Mr Self Destruct

Hmm...an assassin.  We have one already, but another could help to balance things a bit.  You're in, but don't quite post yet.  Feel free to chat it up in the OOC Thread (https://elliquiy.com/forums/index.php?topic=44156.0) but I'll have you wait to post until after my next one, if you don't mind, that way it won't disrupt the flow we have going.


No problem. Just PM me when you're ready to let me post.
My ON'S and OFF'S:

I'll do whatever pleases but I'll bleed 'em in the end.

My BDSM test results.