bickando

Application:

Nation Type: 

Tribal

Nation Flag (optional):

Nation Name:

The Torchbearer Kings | Taimatsu-no-Ōkamigami

Nation Culture (Brief description): 

Among the myriad fables of the Elraic Empire, one tale speaks of a land on the edge of the world, where the disobedient are fed to a dark forest. There, the grass is black, the sky is dark, and Stygian devils replace its gods. Indeed, even its people are warped, with only their black teeth visible beneath demonic masks and many-layered bone armor. It, of course, is just another of the stories-from-before-time meant to persuade children to be good.

Nation History:

A thousand warring tribes make up the Torchbearers, each worshipping their own creation myths, each with their own shamans, their own chieftains, their own languages. Unerringly, however, they all possess a single common story - the Death of the Forest, or the Birth of the Four Gods.

The Lotus Auspex | Hasu-no-Uranaishi

The Frozen Moor | Tōketsu-no-Gen'ya

The Dark Fable | Yami-Gūwa

The Dead Forest | Korosareta-no-Mori

Nation Race:

Human

Special Characters:

The Lotus Daughter | Hasu-no-Miko | Mage | Her red lacquer mask is shaped as a skull, vines growing from its orifices. Her body is a slithering, serpentine mess of exoskeleton and oozing blood.

The Frozen Daughter | Tōketsu-no-Miko | Mage | Her white lacquer mask is devoid of detail, a perfect oval. Her body, too, is a blank canvas - in fact, the haze of white mist that covers The Frozen Daughter's body makes it impossible to make out specifics.

The Dark Daughter | Yami-no-Miko | Mage | Her black lacquer mask is shaped as a circle, pulsating light in its center forming a perfect recreation of an eye. Her body, a mess of black wings and creaking bones jutting out of the corpse of a child.

Primary Magic:

Stygian | Black Torch
Secondary Magic:

Druidism | The Wilds

Unique Point of Interest:

Jukokkai | The Forest of the Cold One | Nok Lor | The Dead Forest

The Forest of the Cold One is said to have a soul - the Dead Forest, a name that has in the common languages become interchangeable with the name of that sea of trees. There, an eternal night blankets the land in shadow, and the howling of Stygian beasts is constant and deafening. Few, if any, visitors from foreign lands have returned from that dreadful place - and all rave madly of a silent, haunting Stygioi wearing the skull of a deer, tall and slender, and its utter dominance over the world around it.

Pretty Princess Helen nods upon hearing the news. To her ever-present companion, Anna Henrietta, she quips,

"Murder was the tactic of the warlords of past eras; such was a brutalist and terrible time. It is a good thing that our Empire does not support such heinous acts."

@libbybelle

pink - 110

20 hours ago, Macaroniminx said:

A bird would tap it’s tiny beak against the window of his bedroom, a letter attached to his foot. A letter written in formal cursive was within the contents of the wrapped up paper. The letter read.

 

”It is I, beautiful dominant Ophelia Romanov, I would like for you to be my submissive doggy! Let me spit on you and step on you then buy you treats with a bottle of ale afterwards. Here is my spit on this paper for you to enjoy.

                           Your possible master,

                               Ophelia Romanov.”

Pretty Princess Helen Antonia finds the letter on Charles' desk on one of the many days he's tried to recruit her.

"This is the most attractive thing I, the prettiest princess in all the land, have seen all day," she'd comment idly to Anna Henrietta.

@sergisala@libbybelle

Helen of Crestfall, that youthful Imperial scion, had spent the summering months in the gardens of the Augustine - for, as luck would have it, the ravages of war had demanded she be locked up in the palace with only her guardian Anna Henrietta for real company. Anna and, of course, her guiltiest pleasure - reading the latest editions of Hearsay of Hanseti-Ruska. Deep in the bowels of the palace, sly butlers handed off to her the latest edition, and behind closed doors she read it.

"...I liked the last one better," she eventually said to herself, with a slight frown.

"Though I bemoan the fate of the Sedanites, their fate seems sealed from the beginning; for our nation shall be reunited, and my imperial grandfather would accept no less than an eradication of rebellion."

Pretty Princess Helen's speech falls largely into empty space, save for her guardian Anna, who sips from her morning broth - for the two were taking breakfast alone, and Helen reading the bottom of the latest Imperial Times.

@libertyybelle

Pretty Princess Helen sighs; a hand placed upon her budding chest. She looks wistfully upon her guardian, Anna.

"In another life, Emil was a cellist, a lover of flowers; perhaps he would have lived a romantic, picturesque life with a happy family of five. In this, he is the man that has ended his family's legacy of loyalty. Cruel fate forced him into a choice; he made the wrong one."

@libertyybelle

23 minutes ago, FlemishSupremacy said:

 

Flemius, who has excellent ears, finds these two statements to be quite contradictory.

...Helen does not know that man.

"Oh, woe upon our faire Empire; for just as Joseph crossed the Ruber and doomed his host, so too now does the House de Joannes foist upon us a generation of bloodshed." Helen covers her face with a silk handkerchief, swooning upon her fainting-chair. Two poor maids fan their beautiful mistress; her guardian, Anna, is left to wonder at her dramatics.

@libertyybelle

Pretty Princess Helen reads through the poem by the warmth of a crackling Augustine fireplace, a tear coming to her eye.

"A city I shall never know, a city that enraptured the hearts of so many; do men have that same strength in our modern era? Do the masses find my grandfather worthy of such worship? Do I find him so?" At this, a pause, her gaze turning to her guardian solemnly. "Might women ever find themselves the chief topic of such fable?"

@libertyybelle

The warm silence of the Augustine's reading room desk, host previously to a time of pensive repose, was suddenly broken by the high-pitched voice of Princess Helen, addressing her ever-present guardian in Governess Anna.

"Lo! Here, a woman that finds in Oren a hateful jewel; There, a man that finds in Oren a corrupt dictatorship. Yet they are able only because of the freedoms they are afforded in our Empire! In Haense, or Norland, they would be put to the sword in an instant...Why is it, Ms. Anna, that when fed a morsel, they demand the meal?" she asks with a frown.

@libertyybelle

Pretty Princess Helen muses on the flyer from the comfort of Anna Henrietta's parlor.

"Is Malinor their version of Oren, Ms. Anna?" asks the girl in that sharp voice that had become so well-known to the beleaguered servantry of the house. A fat pug snored loudly at her feet before the smouldering fireplace; a cool breeze blew through the open window beside her. One could hardly tell there could be more important matters for them to think about than the re-emergence of a Malinorian state.

@libertyybelle

Pretty Princess Helen Antonia watched the proceedings with a petite frown. Pulling from her cargo shorts a single, wilted flower as she left the scene, she sighs. "A true shame..." she says, looking to her incredibly intelligent mentor Anna.

Pretty Princess Helen signs the lorraine over her budding chest.

"What great tragedy befalls these men that I knew as brothers? What fell fate looms over our shared Empire? Can we not all live in peace?" she asks her fat retainer, who simply nods in response - for he is, at the moment, carting about a bear in a cage.

Pretty Princess Helen Antonia frowns. "Though this may be warranted," she begins, "I wish we had been able to come to terms - for all Orenians should be loyal to each other."

Pretty Princess Helen Antonia is deeply upset that she is unable to apply to this prestigious group of horn-bearing mammals.

Title says it all - this subforum is for FRPers (not Fantasy RP, but the people that have been running forum rp games on this forum since 2015) - usually we run character RP's (NOT server-related, mind you, but a variety of subjects have been explored - zombies, star wars, high fantasy) or nation RP's (that's more along the lines of lore-writing and nationbuilding within a set universe or criteria, then working with or competing against other players in a moderated setting).

This subforum is not for your LOTC characters! Please bring that back up to the RP section of the forums, under the header with the current map's name [as of the time of this topic's posting, that is 'Almaris']!

TLDR; THIS IS NOT THE LOTC CHARACTER RP SECTION PLEASE STOP POSTING YOUR CHARACTER RP OR PK'S HERE

"Why are they doing this in the Empire and not in the dictatorships of Norland or Haense?" Pretty Princess Helen asks to her companion, the stout courier Bernard - a question to which he has no answer, because he, too, was quite rational (and was also winded from running after her).

Upon hearing the news, thirteen-year-old Pretty Princess Helen Antonia takes up smoking and binge drinking.

Pretty Princess Helen frowns at the news, delivered to her by courier - a stout boy, so stout that she had at first been inclined to believe he might be a halfling.

"And here I was, thinking Haense had overcome its random bouts of hatred for my country - yet, at every turn, I am proven wrong! Yesterday they slandered my grandfather, today they consort with spoon-footed pagans! Do you not agree?" she asks the courier, the scrawny child worker shivering and panting from the exertion of the run - for indeed, he had been chasing her horse for hours.

"Y-Yes Your Imperial Ladyship," he stuttered out.

"That's Highness to you, and forget it not!" she rebukes in her high, commanding tone of voice.

Truly, the nations of the Accord were correct to worry - for the nation lodged between them did not pay its workers near enough, and indeed its lowest classes were all but sodomized by its nobility, especially by those villains of the Imperial House that arranged marriages - and, lo, so too could Oren foist such horrible ethics upon their lovely, rustic tribal holds, where freedom to mate at will abound!

im bro kando and this is the best thing ive seen since 2019

Pretty Princess Helen Antonia reads the scandal sheet and frowns.

"How sordid," she comments to her beleaguered bodyguards, before continuing to ride towards Southbridge - much to their collective dismay.

Helen Antonia eagerly awaits her brother's wedding (and also her own, incredible hosting of parts of the festival, which was certain to steal the show - as she was the prettiest princess in the land. Luckily, she was also the most humble, and deigned not to share this sentiment with anyone).

give me ur mina pls