John (Zevandir)

Vekrus and Hugo, some officers *cough Yimmya cough* have forgotten recruitment here is OOC on the forums, and a 'random' meeting is arranged for you at one of our outposts, or just in general with someone from the Order. You're both now approved for that stage, and I'll let you know over skype details of this encounter! Thanks. -Hugo, please add me on skype: Cid_the_sloth

((This looks fab, guys, and if I wasn't already in a guild on my main character, I'd join this, but failing that-)) A shabby man in a small dinghy, tattered grey sail straining against the little mast, dirty water, smelling awfully of strong spirits laps gently inside, greyed timbers splintery and dry, salt and bird crap a thick layer all over the boat above the waterline. In truth, the only clean things on the boat are the flawless black flag at the top of the mast, a snarling wolf head stitched on in bare detail, and a rough sword, cleaned and cared for better than the scraggly, though moderately strong looking man at the stern, browned and scarred hand lazily hanging onto the tiller, other hand wrapped delicately around a flask of a similar awful smelling spirit as that tainting the bilge. Should he bump into the crew on his way past the coast of Malinor, as he wanders in from an island fortress far to the west, he would have a few words for the captain, as he is of a similar position, yet he in fact has a vast number of large warships, and the capabilities to build more. ((If you're interested in a multitude of proposals, hit me up on skype or PM's. Cid_the_sloth))

! +1

Zevandir scowls at the poster, before neatly filling out a form. OOC: MC name: Zevandir Skype name: Cid_the_sloth Timezone: Australia, GMT+8 IC: Of what race are you?: Wood Elf Of what age are are you?: Errr, quite old... What combat experience do you have?: All the combat experience. Do you belong to any other orders or guilds?: Not currently, though I did more or less create the pathfinders, which were the group that preceded the Wardens, and essentially like, replaced the Sentinels during minor inactivity in Aegis, before they merged into the Wardens. Do you swear on the Mali people to uphold peace and order in the Elven nation?: Sure.

((Not sure how you heard that, our island is in the middle of the ocean, like, 2k blocks from land. But eh.))

In the mighty Island Fortress of the Wolvengard, remnants of the mighty House Owl grimly read the letter, one draws his sword, and with a single strike cleaves the rock in two, sparks and chips of stone flying around. A small trickle of blood runs slowly down his cheek, and he reaches up to it. Smearing the blood on his fingers, he snarls, looking at the other Owls. "Brothers, as the impostors rise in the night, so does the true Owl stalk. No one shall escape the wrath of the disgraced, and no pretender may hide from the true Owl." With that, a few others of the typical Owl colouring chuckle slightly, and weapons begin being sharpened, armour strapped on. With a final glance at the stone, another Owl mutters. "We are coming."

This is rad, but honestly guys, you could have been more subtle, I literally lost it when 'ingredients that can be seen in any common alchemists cupboard' :P +1

Jon smiles softly, as he gazes at the recruits and veterans alike training in the sun. "Soon..." he murmurs, "soon they will be ready."

Zevandir, getting a little grey in his hair and beard, wanders slowly through the forests of Malinor, or at least, the third incarnation of what was once his home. The thought slows him a little, as he ponders deeply the forests of home, of Aegis. He sighs, grief and sorrow choking the sound. A battle-axe, chipped and worn beyond belief hangs at his belt, yet the only objects of importance are a few old, leather-bound books held in his arms, cradled as if they are treasures of immeasurable value, and to a few, they are. [The Ancient History] [The Druids of Mother Aegis] [The Story of Native, High Prince of Laurelin] [The High Prince of Malinor and the Story of Laurelin] Gingerely brushing the books with a hand, he continues on towards the druid's grove, wondering if his long life and experience with the life that is the forests of Malinor will count for anything, once he gets there. ((Just expressing my character's journey and wish to join the druids, I've been meaning to get him there since Anthos :P))

*Jon meticulously pins a note to the forehead of each bandit, before wandering on his way. The Wolvengard offer places of war, glory and knowledge to all unsatisfied with this current order.

Jon watches Bael, then hides with him, cackling happily.

*A note is pinned largely over the original poster. The Wolvengard offer places of war, glory and knowledge to all unsatisfied with this current order.

*A note is pinned largely over the original poster. The Wolvengard offer places of war, glory and knowledge to all unsatisfied with this current order.

MC Name: Zevandir Skype Username: Cid_the_sloth TeamSpeak [Yes/No]: Yes RP Name: Jon Owl Age: 19 Race: Human Weapon Specialty: Bastard sword/ Longsword and Shield (small, buckler sized Kite shield) Reason for Joining: Lord Athirius Owl the Second, known as the Silencer, is the man to whom Jon Owl owes his life and name to, as such, Jon has followed him into the Gauntlet, to server as his shield, and to further the cause his Lord has chosen, and to fight alongside Tarin, his good friend and brother in arms. I, Jon of House Owl, hereby pledge my skills and my life to the advancement and support of the Order of the Silver Gauntlet and the Holy Oren Empire. I swear my loyalty to the crown and swear on the blood of my brothers to serve faithfully and never leave the Order until the day I take my last breath. To live by honour and for glory.

Fugnuz The Goblin Fugnuz, so named for his peculiar love of mushrooms, is a mischievous little goblin, entranced with the creation and application of ingenious works of engineering. In particular, 'shooteh flat latz'. His first creation was one of little genius, a bow and some sticks. With these, he managed to misfire, and hit the lamp above the tent in which his parents slept, accidentally cooking them both. At least he got properly fed that day. Anyway, after that most unfortunate of accidents, Fugnuz set off to make money, and cause whatever mischief he could, whether that be tricking Oren Lords into fighting, and profiting from selling them his siege weapons, or working for an Elven boatmaker, and occasionally 'forgetting' to properly secure that plank, fortunately, thats only lead to a couple of fatalities. Throughout this time, he continued to hone his archery skills, which helped greatly with his design of weapons, and picked up some knife skills along the way. Fugnuz, however, got bored working for people, so he came to work with another Gobo called Melunz, and began to undertake serious work, spending long days in his design room, tinkering, and with the Elven shipwright designing clever systems of pirate and customs repellent namely high power, small ballistas and ship mounted onagers. While with Melunz, he came to discover a unique relationship, in terms of his own skill in tinkering and engineering, combined with Melunz' of trade, and thievery. Fugnuz currently resides on the Orcish coast, playing with bows and ballistas and boats, and the 'acquiring' of such, like any good goblin. Also like any good goblin, he is entirely available for hire, and has an unquestionable love of gold and steel, and Mina. Fugnuz is roughly 21, 5'6", dark green skin A more formal account of his life Fugnuz was born in the late days of old Asulon, though his line reaches back, unbroken, to those of Aegis. However, Fugnuz is the last of this line, as, in a freak accident he cooked both his parents in a fire that ravaged much of the tribal camp of his birth. Allow me to elaborate Fugnuz was born in a tribal camp somewhere in the Orcish deserts of Asulon, and there he stayed for many years. The tribe did not move camp, as they grew accustomed to the land and settled more permanently, throwing up huts of mud and sand to replace their former hide tents and covered wagons. Fugnuz' parents did not, and he enjoyed a more primitive life than others of the camp. He did, however, discover a peculiar talent. Fugnuz, at the age of around five, created his first feat of engineering, a bow, and though a stick and some string are a fine toy for a little goblin, he soon grew bored of it, and experimented further, developing a surprising talent for the works of the engineer, tinkering with current developments also. However, this adventuresome streak of inventive cleverness soon ran Fugnuz into trouble. His family largely neglected him, his parents having little time for an only child. So, when one day he needed some metal, he simply stole. He was good at it too, and enjoyed it. He began to take whatever he needed and more, growing greedy with his skill, and reaping the rewards of an easy time in developing weapons and the like. So it was no surprise when, after some time, he was finally caught stealing, by a larger goblin of the same camp, and threatened with severe punishment. Fugnuz reacted badly, and as the gobbo ran from the isolated tent, Fugnuz took his new and improved bow, and managed to put a shot through the goblin's lower leg, incapacitating him, however, Fugnuz had no wish to kill him, instead threatening him severely, with the promise of such, should he tell. This shot inspired the young goblin child, and he attacked the bow with renewed fury, obtaining no small measure of skill with it, and around the same time, decided it would be apt to learn the way of a knife. Fugnuz, in his desire to further his skill with the bow, trained rather hard, and one night, in an accidental shot, a stray arrow hi the lantern outside his parent's tent, knocking it into the tent itself and quickly devouring it, and in this accident, Fugnuz, to his absolute great dismay, not really, lost both his parents. Though he mourned the waste of life, he cared little for the individuals, and simply packed up his things and left, before he could be accused of the murder. He neglected not, however, to pilfer as many goods as he could. Fugnuz found himself wandering the deserts for a while, improving his archery catching his dinner, and chasing off snakes and the like. However, he soon found his way to the human lands, in search of a place to work, to build weapons. But what human would employ a goblin, of all creatures, to create dangerous weapons? Apparently, not anyone near by, and Fugnuz was rejected at every turn. Before he could properly do something bad, however, the cultists destroyed Asulon, and he fled with the rest, to Kalos and Elysium, where he retreated to a cave, and ventured out only to steal paper and ink, and the things he needed. Through hardship he endured, and sharpened his mind and his skills, and upon the leaving of the islands, he carried only a stone knife, a bow and a few pitiful arrows, and an oaken chest of precious diagrams and designs. Thus he arrived in Anthos, and wandered adrift for quite some time, before one day, he got his break. Another goblin, small of stature but great in skill of theft, by the name of Melunz, became Fugnuz' business partner, or more appropriately, Fugnuz became his, coming to design weapons for the skilled goblin thief to use and sell, in his day job of a merchant. Fugnuz prospered here, and rose to some prominence in the small tribe, plans to accompany Melunz on a job, his skill increased and his drive unquenched. Both goblins have become associates of an Elven shipwright, and it is part of this that drives them to such a job Fugnuz, though a goblin who hates waste, including that of life, and the useless spending of energy is not one to be roused quickly to a fight of his own accord, but i savage in defence, and should his business interests be threatened, he is quick to react with hidden violence, and should he see a business venture being furthered by such acts, they are committed, though not without temper, and in the event of thieving, he will generally make use of a blackjack to disable guards and watchers.

Zevandir sees the poster and laughs aloud, before his face clouds with memories. As he turns to walk away, a faint smattering of mumble can be heard... "... started the damn PATHFINDERS! And now look at them, Sentinels, Wardens, Highguard, they never change... weak cluster of pathetic fools... should've been left... rot... realm of the Undead."

Zevandir The Hunter Zevandir is a hunter, an ideal that has swept him through seasons of change, misery and triumph. A hunter of the wind and the waves, of time and men, and of his breakfast. Zev, as he is oft known by those with whom a bond is shared, spent much, if not all, of his early years aboard ships, great swan’s of Elven design, and the lean wolves of northern raiders. Regardless of where he came from, his skill upon the seas is largely unrivalled, and whether he was serving aboard a longship in sheets of ice rain, bending against an oar, or commanding the sailors of a Great Swan, wings filled with warm summer air, sedately sweeping the southern oceans, he excelled. Zevandir remembers not his parents, given them up as drowned in the great sea of time that surrounds all. However, the great sea has changed him, and Zevandir is alike the sea in manner and form, tall and lean and dark, white hair bleached the colour of bone in the sun and the spray a match for his manner, sunny as the afternoon, before crashing like a winter storm of furious waves into a dark, raging beast, blind with rage. Zevandir, though a creature of the sea, is at ease upon the waves of the land, ranging far over hills and plains and mountains, a lone wolf or the leader of a pack. Zevandir has never been a man of disciplined training, preferring to fight with whatever is at hand, oft a marlin spike grabbed up and thrust through the jaw of an orc, before drawing a sword or boarding axe to repulse attackers. Though, in the event of attacking, Zevandir preferred to fight in a style both alike and distant from that of the traditional elves, for he largely served with great barbarians of men, cloaked in furs and armed with monstrous axes. As such, Zevandir too, powerfully built as a result of rowing and climbing and steering, has come to favour the axe, and it’s powerful, crashing strokes, splitting skulls and cleaving bodies with great waves of fury. However, he discovered at an early age a skill with a bow, instinctively directing a shaft of hissing pain through captains of ships, disorientating and defeating the crew before the battle was even joined. It is this skill, of matching an arrow to waves and sea wind, that lend Zevandir uncanny skill on land, as the unmoving landscape is almost too easy. Though Zevandir masquerades as a swaggering bravo of the seas, when he is in port, in truth his skill with the gentleman’s blade is poor to say the least, as the fine blades are prone to break under the great power of Zevandir’s strokes, the point finding little use past whittling or picking bone from beneath his nails. Zevandir’s life as known to the people of Anthos began in Aegis, as a badly wounded and disorientated elf swept up on a beach near Malinor, the fallen Captain of a great fleet, beset upon by orcs of a fell and terrible nature, their great dreadships crushing the fleet of wolf ships beneath their mighty prows of iron and stone. It was his own ships that was first attacked, without warning, an orcish warship slamming into it, from the darkness of a fierce storm. Orcs rushed aboard, cutting down the fierce men and elves. In a final rally, Zevandir led his hardened core against the boarders, his axe cleaving a bloody swathe thorugh the enemy. Though the effort stunned the orcs, a monstrous brute swept a mighty hammer against Zevandir, and taken for dead, he was cast from his ship. In the forests of Malinor, Zevandir was tended, and began his life anew, fighting for the princes, training in the mighty eleven crucible, a dark and terrible cavern of darkness, in which the fell creatures of Aegis roamed unchecked. Zevandir then joined the military of the elves, fighting with and agains the rangers, alongside Elven Princes, before venturing weeks from the city, to begin the founding of the great tree of the Pathfinders. However, Zevandir soon left, in a disagreement, he was cast from the pack, traveling to the Elven city of RavenHall, founding the first lodge of the hunters, upon which the blessing of the High Prince was cast, immortalizing Zevandir’s destruction of the enemies of the land, their heads mounted atop plinths. It is here that Zevandir’s time in Aegis was to end, as upon a far and long ranging hunt, the catastrophe that caused all Aegeans to flee hit the world with force, and the lone hunter knew not of it, until returning to desolation. He built a boat, and swept after them, upon the tides of the cataclysm, to the world of Asulon, it was here that Zevandir could find no solace, wandering the glades of the Gypsies, unable to find purpose. Thus did he take again to the seas, a lone wolf once more, until, finally, he came to Anthos. It is here that his story again takes form, Zevandir can feel a sense of rebirth, and seeks to direct himself to the reconstruction of his former guild, the Hunters, and find quest to fill lost purpose, and to reconstruct his mighty ship, the Sea Fang, and take once more to the sea, to become the huntsman of the waves once more. Fact sheet: Chaotic Neutral Tall, lean, muscled, tanned Bleached hair Scar, face and back Very good with axe and bow Superb hunter and sailor Elven Approx. 135 years Reckless, powerful fighting style Hunter Aims: Restore ship, build the guild, a port/longhouse Social connections: none Diety: the sea is his god, the wind his aenguls Like a lightning strike, quick to anger and forgive, however, can be a storm, slowly brooding before an unrelenting onslaught, lingering for days

Personally, I think this is an amazing idea, it adds extrodinary RP opportunities and depth to the idea of conflict, also, it would appear to create more of a Roleplay server than PVP server, as the battles themselves are orchestrated displays where tactics and skill come together to create something worth watching and being part of. It also creates opportunites for military groups, ambassadors and even new roles, such as heralds. Has anyone actually played strategy games? Such as Rise of Nations, Age of Empires, the Total War series? All of these games have mighty battles conducted by proffessional soldiers in either raids on cities or vast battles where great armies clash. None of them support individual peasants grabbing a sword and killing some other peasants who grabbed swords. Props to the guy who made this thread. Excellent idea. I like how someone dragged in both the Medieval ages and Middle Earth. Perfect examples.