=O= [Recruiting] The Disciples Of Sol =O=

[The Lion 716]

The Disciples of Sol

“Let there be light!”

 

Whilst travelling along the road you come upon a squad of men bearing a sun on their chest. They stop to talk to you, offering nothing but kindness and warm sense of security

 

Hail weary traveler, you have come upon some of the Disciples. Can I offer you anything to eat or drink?

 

You decide for yourself what your body requires and continue to listen

 

Are you tired of watching the lands burn with frost fire and dark taint? Do the dark curses of the necromancers haunt your dreams? The screams of our people have gone on too long, the twisted manipulation the Scourge employ to preach false peace is enough. We are but a few soldiers who have had enough, the days of complying with great evil are over. Today we take up arms and bring the fight to them, we cover ourselves in light to shine in the darkness. To doubt our mission is suicide, before you know it these lands will be covered in the taint of evil. I offer you a chance to stop that impending future. I offer you a chance to join our brotherhood and put an end to the madness.

 

Come traveller, we will accept you regardless of race. Come with us back to our headquarters and see all we have to offer.

 

If you would be so inclined you accompany the merry men back to Ac’Talarah. You enter the halls of the Disciples and come across an orientation held in the gathering hall. Perhaps you choose to listen.

 

Our purpose is simple, we are going to stomp out the Scourge and any who wish to consort with the evil spirits at play in our realm. There is no place in this world for people of that nature, for years have we watched them plague the lands untouched, free to raise the dead and curse our soil. So we have taken up sword, spear, bow, hammer, and quill to prey on these cursed beings. To join us would be a step in peaceful progression, to join us would be moving towards a free Anthos. I will not say we will win, but I’d rather die on my own two feet than serve the wicked on my knees.

 

The recruits fill the halls with cheering as the speaker ends, in the celebration you are offered a recruitment form.

 

The Application

 

Before we begin, I implore you to read this.

Reasoning behind this; This ain't some casual guild, this ****'s for snuffing the North out. - Swgrclan

 

OOC Oath Obligation:

As a member of the Disciples you are bound by your word and your actions. As such, if at any point during your time as a Disciple, you decide to betray the Oath you have taken and forsake your brothers in the Order; The Brotherhood reserves the right to regain what has been lost, be it property or a member, and it is this right that you grant us by taking this Oath, for upon your capture we will decide the ultimate fate for your character, be it forgiveness or a permanent death. You may opt out of this clause, but doing so will forfeit our reliability and trust in you and will likely prevent you from advancing in or even joining the Disciples. Once opted in, you must allow this right to be exercised in anyway the Patriarch at the time sees fit at the appropriate event associated with this obligation until the very end of your character.

 

OOC

 

MC Name:

Skype Name (Optional)

Timezone:

How active do you plan to be:

Will you use teamspeak:

 

IC

 

Full name:

Species:

Age:

Preferred combat weapon:

Why you hate the enemy:

Job Skills (Lumberjack, miner, scribe, etc):

Where you see yourself in a few years:

Do you have a family:

Any guild relations you'd like to mention:

Will you swear the oath (By consenting you agree to the OOC oath Obligation):

 

 

After you decide whether to sign up or not you are offered a place to rest and are escorted back to wherever you came across the band of Disciples whenever you choose to leave.

 

It’s a wild world out there, do be careful citizen.

 

A list is pinned up for those who visit the headquarters

 

Looking for!

 

Scribes

Scientists

Engineers

Scholars

 

Those part of our R&D department need not take part in the physical battle, but are required to wage the mental ones. They are the creators of the future, the catalysts to getting a leg up and damning the corrupted.

 

Respectable People:

 

Patriarch DD
Captain LW

The Good Doctor KN

Apostle CH

Disciple GW

Disciple NS

Disciple E

Disciple NE

Disciple CT

Inductee A

Inductee DB

Inductee NV

Inductee GA

Inductee W

Inductee N

 

 

Our Fallen Brothers and Sisters:

 

The Wanderer (MrWizardGorlock): K.I.A.

 

Those we hunt!

 

Setherien's slaves

Necromancers of any morality

Shades

Dread Knights

Witches

and Demons

 

Heads of the damned in our care:

 

Cultist (Pito44)

Cultist (iTzShambo)

Harbinger (HeeroZero)

Harbinger (Goldrim)

Harbinger (Bloodknight)

Cultist (BurntToast74)

[Lago 2569]

((Why do you need an OOC application for an IC group again?))

[The Lion 716]

((For organizational purpose and maximum recruitment efficiency. It only asks 2 OOC questions.))

[John Ivory 4535]

Aglarebon sends in an application.

[Anderssn 1115]

Daren signs his application and puts it in his bag, ready to deliver it to the Disciples Of Sol.

[Heff 2458]

Fumble pipes up,

"Do we need'a figh' an' live wit ya?"

[The Lion 716]

The Patriarch answer Fumble, "Fight or research, you don't need to live with us. You can if you want to."

[Neri 3587]

The Patriarch answer Fumble, "Fight or research, you don't need to live with us. You can if you want to."

 

Caitlyn adds "A farmer or cook would also be very useful to us."

[Heff 2458]

Fumble thinks for a second, 

"Wha' if ya stop by the Shire when ya nee' me an' I can start inventions and farm stuff fer ya!"

[The Lion 716]

Fumble thinks for a second, 

"Wha' if ya stop by the Shire when ya nee' me an' I can start inventions and farm stuff fer ya!"

The Patriarch salutes "Verywell, what is your name?"

[Heff 2458]

The tiny haltings boy salutes, but with three fingers and covering one eye. He clearly has no formal experience with biggun gestures.

"FUM'LE WILLOWBOTTOM SAH!"

[The Lion 716]

How to Kill a Necro

 

A cool spring breeze whispers through the forest surrounding Ac’Talarah as the sun lazily drifts from the horizon. Sol’s radiant light creeps onto the heavy bars of the front gate as they slowly creak open. Bursting forth from the darkness within comes a tall figure followed by a band of like dressed soldiers carrying a bound and bagged being. The leader of the group slides his hood into place as he takes a deep breath of the crisp air. He stops, scanning the woods for a moment before ordering in a gruff voice, “Forward march!” At this they take off into the unknown of what was once known as Malinor. They stop after thirty minutes of trekking in a natural clearing where the sun shines in beams through the trees.

 

“Here.” says the leader known as the Patriarch as he turns to face the group. “Bring him, set him on his knees.” he says bluntly, the men spring into action with a dutiful “Yes sir!” Sol had smiled upon the Patriarch and three soldiers the night before as they caught a filthy necro trying to sneak passed Ac’Talarah on that moonless evening. The necromancer was brought down with a single bolt to the leg, bound and dragged into the deep reaches of the keep. After a rough interrogation, the Captain overseeing his trial nodded solemnly; having acquired all he needed from the heretic. The sorry excuse for a mortal was left in darkness where he belonged, his screams and pleas silenced by a gag.

 

The muffled thump of body hitting ground filled the Patriarch's helmet as the necro was set down in front of him. “Listen up, rookies. This here is the enemy. This is what we are here to destroy. Do not let anyone tell you different, this is the greatest evil that touches our lands, greater than the Scourge.” His featureless helmet monitors his men for reaction, a soldier raises his hand. “Speak.” “Sir, I was taught that the Scourge was the greatest enemy, sir!”  The Patriarch raises his right hand for him to be at ease,“You were taught correctly, but there is nothing worse than a worm who chooses to consort with the spirits that govern necromancy.” The men all nod in unison, observing the Patriarch as he draws a matte black bowie knife.

 

“This here is the standard issue Disciple sidearm. It has been saturated in Sol’s light, holds a blade length of 10 inches, and was oil quenched by our very own Forge Master. When caught without your preferred weapon of choice there is no greater tool to dispatch justice with.” The Patriarch brings the blade up to the heavens, “Captain, if you would.” “Sir, yes, sir.” says the Captain as he steps out of line from his identical squad mates. He calmly positions himself on the side of the bound man, ripping the sack from his head at a force great enough to cause rug burns and a bloody nose. Sol’s rays light up the man’s face as the Patriarch takes a step forwards, placing his cold steel gauntlet upon the man's shoulder.

 

“When executing the enemy with your sidearm you need to ensure you sever both the external and internal vein. This is best done like so.” He effortlessly rips the necromancer’s throat ajar, slamming his boot between the man’s shoulders, catapulting him into the dirt to bleed out. The knife is cleaned and sheathed, all the men standing quietly among the forest with their hands at their sides awaiting the man to stop making noise.

 

After a few short minutes the silence is broken, “Any questions?” The men do not respond, the lesson had sunk into the roots of their mind. The Patriarch salutes, causing a cacophony of boots bringing brought together in perfect military salute, “Forward march!” The disciples of Sol return to base, leaving the bound man for the wolves.

[ĔṀĔŔĨĨČĶ 519]

 

A Young and passionate Warrior who seeks to find his very own sun speaks up. "If I join, will I perhaps be able to partake in some Jolly Cooperation?"

[IrishPerson 693]

[The Lion 716]

The Patriarch revises the recruitment process.