Xarkly
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Posts posted by Xarkly
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10 minutes ago, Vege said:
The King prepares to release to the public, the letters sent to him from those present in the Haensetians court and the city at the time.
"This man was no citizen, he was a Government official, an attack orchestrated on my nephew, who went to Haense seeking better relations. The Courlandic patience and tolerance for Haense's intolerance is wearing thin." States the King, as he addresses his court.
"If a man spits on your orders and acts in his own interests, he is not your man."
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Floris van Loden, the acting Maer of St. Karlsburg, watched as the jagged teeth of the city's portcullis groaned before they slammed downwards, biting into the stone below.
It was an odd sight, to see the gate closed. For so long, the city had been a bastion of free trade and travel, where none were rejected and all were welcome. To finally see the gates closed, and guards swarming the modest gatehouse, stirred a sense of mournfulness within him. He knew the feeling was not exclusive to him, either; a small crowd of concerned civilians, townsfolk and traders alike, had gathered near the gate with concerned faces and knitted brows. Rumours had circulated, tales of murder and war, yet none had wanted to believe. Yet the barred gate, once welcoming and now foreboding, confirmed their fears.
"If a bandit kills a northman in Courland, is Courland to blame?" Floris said all of a sudden, drawing the frantic eyes of the concerned townfolk. "Are rogues who reject the will of their own king permitted to sway our foreign policy? Our diplomatic ties?" He paused, as the chilling northern wind swept his words throughout the street. "The Staunton envoy was welcomed by his Majesty, and then he was murdered by a man who could not stomach such an order - a man who went rogue."
He paused at that, and then found that he had furrowed his own brow, as unbidden rage crept into his head. "If a bandit kills a northman in Courland, is Courland to blame?" he repeated, though with greater conviction this time. "Of course not. This tragic murder was carried out by nothing more than a bandit. There will be no war for that, people of St. Karlsburg. Not unless Courland thinks banditry is a valid excuse for war. No, there will be no war.
Not unless Courland wants it."
5 -
"I will run."
The voice rang out high and clear from the modest crowd that had gathered around the platform to see the High Steward speak. The speaker briefly paused, shut his eyes and steadied his breathing as he banished his nerves. Finally, he donned a mask of stony assurance, and began to mount the platform. He was clad in his thick bearskin cloak, which made his slight form seem much bulkier and imposing than it truly was, and snowflakes had delicately nestled themselves in his sandy, windstrewn hair.
"I will run," he repeated, this time with conviction. "Already, I have given my spirit to this city, along with countless hours of toil and effort. I have helped introduce the tax system to pay for the betterment of the city. I have played an instrumental role in the foundation of the city's Labour Guild, which will set fires roaring the hearts of laborers and industrialists alike across all of Haense. I have seen to the construction of countless enhancements for the city, from the windmill out on the farms to the abundance of stalls seen in this very square. My administration was curbed the demand for housing, supplying roofs for those who need them, and performing activity checks to make sure no property goes unused. Over these last months, I have served as Maer in Lord Lukas' absence, and you still see this city standing as proud and as bold as ever, and growing moreso day after day under our safe, experienced and trusted care."
He paused at that, and let his words hang in the air, resonating in the minds of those present. Even the bitter wind of the north seemed to calm down momentarily, as if it did so just to allow him to speak clearly. Finally, with his heart pounding like a war drum in his chest, the cloaked man spoke once more.
"I, Floris of the House of van Loden, will run for Maer. Over these last years, I have been St. Karlsburg begin its ascent to greatness. If there is one thing I can promise you, it's that I will see this ascent to its pinnacle."
Without another word he turned and dismounted the platform, and the wind picked up again, whistling and wailing.
6 -
The St. Karlsburg
Labour Guild
The St. Karlsburg municipal council is pleased to formally declare the foundation of the St. Karlsburg Labour Guild. It is the wish of both the council and the Crown that this Labour Guild shall serve as an economic stimulant by purchasing previously unwanted materials at generous prices and, as such, encouraging labourers to increase their productivity to avail of better prices for their wares and to contribute to the Kingdom of Haense.
The exact functioning of the Labour Guild will be outlined below:
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Labourers may approach the City Manager or an official representative of the Labour Guild with the intent to sell his goods, be it stone, wood, minerals, etc.
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The City Manager will refer the labourer to the set prices that apply to each bulk sale of the relevant material at the time.
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If the labourer is content with the set price, the sale will be made.
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The materials will be subsequently stored within the premises of the Labour Guild itself, located at 9 & 10 Siegrad Square, until a time comes when the city has need of them.
To achieve this, the Labour Guild is henceforth permitted to keep 10% of all collected taxes in order to provide an honest pay conducted for the honest work of labourers, and to encourage them to contribute to the local economy. Please be aware that, due to economic circumstances, the prices for various materials may fluctuate over time, and labourers should refer to the Labour Guildhall for exact pricing.
As such, labourers from all across Haense are henceforth urged to make contact with City Manager Johan van Loden ((Parkins)) in order to avail of the generous buying prices offered by the St. Karlsburg Labour Guild and to contribute to your Kingdom today!
With any questions regarding the Labour Guild or the St. Karlsburg city administration, please contact any of the following officials:
Lord-Chancellor Lukas Vanir ((Pureimp10))
Marshal Prince Otto Petrovic ((NJBB))
Acting-Maer Floris van Loden ((Xarkly))
City Manager Johan van Loden ((Parkins))
High Steward Amelie van Loden ((Claireanne))
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+ House van Loden +
Strength through Unity
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"Maybe it's true," Laurens said softly. "Maybe Lodenlanders can never truly have a home."
From atop a grass Crownlands hilltop, Floris van Loden watched as titanic pillars of black smoke clawed and choked the sky, tainting what had once been a golden morning sky that had been marred only by a few wayward streaks of white clouds. Now, however, the black had turned the morning sky into a twisting vortex of black smoke, and though it could not be seen yet, thanhium dust.
"Curse of the Lodenlanders," said Laurens van Loden once again, who stood beside Floris with his arms crossed over his lean chest and a stern, unreadable expression worn on his ageing face of sharp, proud features. The pair of them stood upon an isolated, gently-sloped hilltop some miles out into the rolling green plains of the Crownlands. A solitary, slender-trunked chestnut tree crowned the hilltop, and as a chilling wind swept through the plains, the spiny, leaf-dappled branches of the tree sighed and sang. Their horses, Floris' milky-skinned gelding and Laurens' jet-black stallion, stood picketed to the trunk, occassionaly neighing and prodding the springy grass with their hooves. As Floris watched the great columns of smoke rise into the sky, he almost envied the horses, and how they were oblivious to everything that was happening.
"I ... I never thought this could have happened again," Laurens went on, and sighed stiffly as the wind toyed with strands of his ashen-grey hair. "It ... it's never going to end, is it?"
Floris opened his mouth to answer, but as he looked to the source of the unrelenting smoke, his voice turned thick and the words caught in his throat. Johannesburg, once the beating heart of the Holy Orenian Empire, had once stood like a colossal beacon of stone, coronating the land for as far as the eye could see, and yet now it was nothing more than a crater - a blemish on the earth it once crowned. Even now, Floris could still see the distant siege camps of the Coaliation as their disgruntled soldiers packed away their siege equipment and began the long march home, but that instilled no feeling in him. He simply felt hollow as he watched the spot where he had once called home. Perhaps that had been his mistake - after all, Lodenlanders were not meant to have homes.
"Sometimes, I wonder what the point is," came Laurens weary voice. "Why carry on, if we are only to be met with this fate each time? To be settle down somewhere, a place we can call home, only to have it robbed of us? Perhaps we truly are cursed, Floris. Cursed to be without a home 'till time's end."
Finally, Floris spoke. His voice was thick, and a lump had formed in his throat, but, spurned by the burning ruin of the city, he forced the words out. "Curses can be broken."
With that, a solemn silence claimed the hilltop, broken only by the sound of the chestnut tree swaying and the whistle of the morning wind as it swept across the grave of the Empire. Eventually, after what felt like an hour, Laurens spoke, in a coarse voice, "But can broken men be fixed?"
Floris did not answer. Instead, he balled his fists, and wrenched his eyes from the smouldering crater. Without a word, he marched towards their horses, and began to undo their tethers.
"Floris?" Laruens queried with a knitted brow. "Where do you think you're going?"
"To break a curse," Floris told him, and suddenly, his trademark smile, full of mischief and jest, returned. "Are you coming, brother dearest?"
Laurens only smiled.
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+ Introduction +
In succession to the renowned House of Bracchus, a forgotten culture of mercantilism and opportunity has shaped a worthy candidate to further carry the torch of servitude. Finding union in our shared cosmopolitan values and a thrive to succeed, we shall find a home in our people regardless of our place or status. Our chapters of diaspora once formed our weakness, but through its hardening we made it our strength. House van Loden, formally House de Ruyter, is a family of Lodenlanders, a travelling culture renowned for their inability to truly find a singular location to settle down, leading to a feeling of misfortune and neglect amongst the family. Yet it is that family that has tempered their mettle, and strengthened their resolve - that resolve being to succeed, to survive, and to find a place they can, once and for all, call home.
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+ Origins & History +
+ Early History +SpoilerHouse van Loden, previously House de Ruyter, came to existence after the remnants of House Bracchus saw great relation to their past identity; one established by their great-grandfather Idas Bracchus and the merchant’s widow Emilia de Ruyter. The opportunistic and financial nature of the marriage brought forward a generation of Bracchus’ that would provide many functions to the Imperium for the years to come.
The post Duke’s War House Bracchus witnessed their alienation from the south and a great disconnect with the conservative values of its northern allies. They were too northern-aligned to fit in the Johannesburg scene, but also too cosmopolitan to be considered northerner themselves. They were their own kind, but had no capability to stand on their own as a family.
The de Ruyters, as they were then known, would maintain a façade of assimilation to the Courlandian people; joining them during their festivities and adopting their mannerisms while in public. They saw other cultures as hostile lifestyles, undermining the values and traditions that allowed for this minority to survive in the first place. Which is why they preserved their privacy immensely. A few Lodenlander families often joined the de Ruyters in the closed confines of their walled hamlet to do their own celebrations and gatherings.
Such comfort came to an end when Courland seceded from the Imperium. The de Ruyter clique attempted to restore the situation by financially backing Laurens Staunton in his coup d’etat. While the coup itself succeeded, the preservation of Courland failed. Martial law was declared by Carnatia and the de Ruyter’s were forced to leave if they were to remain safe. The sole destination still available was the capital Johannesburg, where their ancestors began the tale.-+-
+ Johannesburg +
SpoilerThe exodus to the capital proved to be a wise choice of the late patriarch Martijn, who, along with his siblings, faced an imminent passing due to old age. It became apparent that their young offspring would be responsible for the continuation of a Loden people, and the house in general.
Progress was made when the eldest descendant, Laurens, was appointed as High Magistrate of Oren. His tenure allowed for his siblings and cousins to take up various functions within the Legion, Stewards and the Supreme Court. This didn’t just make the family a prominent player, but also became a testament to the ability of the Lodenlander people.
A new class was created amongst the citizenry; a layer between the renowned nobility of the Imperium and its peasantry in servitude. Educated, intellectual and aspiring burghers would rampantly reform the institutions and crack down on bureaucracy and criminality. As a foreign and new player, the de Ruyter’s had no historic ties to the established families for them to be bound by agreements or dependencies. They were an un-conforming clique that brought a new vision to the table for the capital; they made it their home.
The comfort of such political prominence was short-lived, however. The de Ruyter’s overstepped their boundaries as perceived newcomers to the scene, indiscriminately reprimanding- and manoeuvring against the status quo. Unknowingly, or at least from the de Ruyter’s optic, various officials from the house were framed for corruption and extortion; centralized around the Magistrate’s case against the prosecuting Imperium. Despite the clearance of all charges, and the once disputed legality behind the Magistrate’s actions being recognized, the Magistrate’s office was dissolved and partitioned between rival institutions. It terminated the family’s institutional reign over the city, and estranged them from their own home yet again.-+-
+ North and South +
SpoilerFollowing Laurens dismissal as Imperial Magistrate, House de Ruyter found themselves at a crossroad. Laurens, disgusted and deterred from working under the Emperor that had so readily dismissed him, insisted that the family leave Johannesburg and seek their fortune elsewhere. However, Floris and Amelie, comfortably positioned as respected staff of the Imperial Administration, felt as if it would be a poor decision. In the end, having utilised his established network, Laurens set off for the Haensetic capital of St. Karlsburg, leaving the rest of the family in Johannesburg.
Years would pass, and contact between the de Ruyters of St. Karlsburg and Johannesburg was few and far between. Regardless, both factions played their part well - under Minister Edmond Manston, Floris would secure the prestigous role of Steward-General of Johannesburg, while Laurens rose to the position Constable of Haense.
Whilst the family remained physically divided, they continued to champion their original goals - prestige, position and fortune. Life, for the most part, was good for the rising House of de Ruyter. Yet, when the Coalition of Axios sounded the death knell of the Orenian Empire, so too did it herald another time of uncertainty, migration, and loss for House de Ruyter.-+-
+ Northern Migration +
SpoilerWhat had begun as a miniscule annoyance of rebellion had turned into an unstoppable tidal wave, composed of virtually every faction that had faced defeat beneath the might of Oren. As the Emperor’s allies slowly deserted him one-by-one, it quickly became apparent that the Johannesburg de Ruyters, namely Floris and Amelie, faced a crisis. Their fears came to fruition following the betrayal of Cantal, which allowed the Coalition to directly siege Johannesburg.
Laurens paid a visit to his wayward siblings in the capitol, which he could hardly recognise beneath the siege modifications. Following a session of sombre reminiscing of what once was, Laurens urged his siblings to return with him to a now-neutral Haense to avoid the impending siege. While Amelie heeded the patriarch’s advice, Floris refused to forsake the Emperor and the city he felt bound to, and enlisted in the Black Legion.
Following the explosion of Johannesburg, which Floris avoided due to the sheer luck which had placed him outside the city on patrol at the time, the de Ruyters found themselves reunited once more - this time in Haense. Enacting upon the advice of the Kingdom’s former regent, House de Ruyter became House van Loden in order to assimilate with the northerners and unburden themselves of the southron implications of their name.
Before long, the van Lodens resumed nearly identical positions that they had held in Johannesburg - Floris secured the role as High Steward of the city of St. Karlsburg, with Amelie serving as a steward once again. Johan van Loden, who had until this point busied himself with travels and studies, competed for the position of City Maer, though he would later withdraw his candidacy in favour of the position of City Manager.
Due to the diligent work of Laurens as Constable, House van Loden soon found themselves with their very own barony. Despite its modest size, it meant a great deal to the senior family members - to have a home of their own was something which Laurens had believed could not happen, and that they would be encumbered by the cursed title of Lodenlander until long after his death.
With construction of Laurenstadt underway and House van Loden once again taking to the elusive ladder of prestige, a bright future beckons.
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+ Culture & Customs +SpoilerHouse van Loden take their name from their cultural origin - the Lodenlanders. In simple terms, the Lodenlanders are a migrating people of humble, modest roots, drawing their expertise from matters of the quill rather than the sword, and as such they exhibit dominance in matters relating to finance, administration and diplomacy. Yet the defining trait of the Lodenlander people is their encumbering misfortune that renders them incapable of finding a true home to settle down in. For successive generations, the Lodenlander people have been forced to migrate between provinces, nations, and city. Until recently, they were deceived by fate into believing that they had found a true home in Johannesburg, yet the fall of the Holy Orenian Empire also aggravated the age-old 'curse' that the Lodenlanders, and in particular House van Loden, endures.
House van Loden, although relatively young in terms of nobility, boasts an eventful history consisting of a number of incidents that have shaped them into the people they are today. Their history has led them to operate and function in a style that might be considered unfavourable by other, established noble houses, due to its autonomous nature.
It is this autonomous nature that often allows for the smooth and efficient functioning of House van Loden’s activities. While they maintain a lord, the eldest male of the former lord, typical to any other lord, House van Loden has adapted a custom to openly encourage younger, members of the House to step up and take responsibility in managing some of the family’s business and affairs. This leads to an efficient delegation in the family’s activities, and reduces ambition and competition among family members whom might seek to better their position within the family itself. As such, House van Loden has always been a tightly-knit family of educated individuals who pride themselves on their cooperation.
The loyalty amongst family members has, however, led them to become somewhat reclusive and unsociable with outsiders. This reclusiveness was developed in the years leading up to the Courland secession – the van Lodens of the time simply could not culturally identify with the people of Courland or Johannesburg, and instead sought company among themselves and other Lodenlander families, continuing their own customs and culture while they pretended to appreciate the customs of Courland. When House van Loden settled down in Johannesburg in an attempt to climb the political ladder using their honed minds and organizational skills, they carried on their treatment of foreign cultures from Courland – House van Loden maintained a tolerant façade of the customs of Johannesburg, when in truth they thought them to be completely unrelatable. Yet with their skilful speechcraft, van Lodens were always able to converse with inhabitants of the capitol and forge acquaintances, but it was seldom that they would make true friends.-+-
Thank you for taking the time to check us out. If you're interested in joining on on this family roleplay, message me here on the forums.
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Minecraft Name:
Xarkly
Skype ID:sparklexarkle
Time-zone:GMT.
Do you, or have you held, any other staff positions:No; my soul is untarnished.
Where do you grab inspiration from:I've played all the run-of-the-mill games and books that you probably read about on every single application, but my favourite source of creative inspiration is, cheesily enough, myself. I've always been enamored with the concept of creating something, be it a place or a culture or whatever else, with no outside influence and shaping it into something original and unique. Creating something from the depths of my own mind is always my first preference; when it comes to borrowing elements from X book or Y game, I almost feel kind of restricted because I really just like realizing my own ideas. That said, though, I don't really have anything against taking tidbits from something else if the situation calls for it. Despite that, however, I'm actually really looking forward to the chance to try out some of this community's unique lore, which can, I feel, be sorely undervalued at times. So my own ideas and the server lore would probably make the bones of any event I was to host.
Content that I would feel comfortable taking inspiration from would consist of what I consider to be story-telling masterpieces, such as the Witcher trilogy, in particular the second installment, the Wheel of Time book series, the lore of Dark Souls, nearly exclusively the first installment, and Evoland 2, a game that manages to pull off an extremely complicated plot very smoothly.
What are your current list of characters, and are you willing to sacrifice any:My only active character is Floris van Loden, a minor noble involved in the administration of St. Karlsburg, and yeah, if needs be, I'll sacrifice him (just for you ;) ).
What race, or group, do your events best cater to:I'm mainly involved in human roleplay, but I don't see myself performing events exclusively for them. Actually, one of the things I think I'd enjoy about being a member of the Event Team is being afforded the opportunity to make events for each aspect of the community, and using each race's unique lore. Again, I'd probably feel pretty restricted if I was tied to doing events for just one group. I feel like I'd also be able to make universal events - events that players could participate in regardless of their race or association. In fact, I feel like there could actually be a niche for cross-race/faction events. For example, races that are traditionally enemies are forced to work together to overcome whatever challenge.
What do you believe are they key factors for a successful event:- Organization & Planning - If I was to decide to do an event, my first port-of-call would be to fully plan it out, from where the event was going to start until where it was going to conclude. I'd personally consider having a fleshed-out and structured plan to be the backbone of any successful event; I'd have a clear direction in mind, so that I could guide the event in that direction without allowing any delays, which would only serve to kill the event's momentum.
- Atmosphere - Events are, in their own right, stories, and like a story I feel like they need a gripping and ensnaring atmosphere. Instead of the participants half-heartedly typing up a response every few minutes, I'd aspire to have them on the edge of their seat, fully engrossed in what's happening and eager to see what's about to happen next. I feel reasonably confident that I'll be able to achieve this, through the use of my elaborate, flowery descriptions and with a little bit of ambient music thrown in the mix. Groovy.
- Flexibility & Player Choices - This ties into my first point of Organization & Planning. While I do think that a proper plan is absolutely essential for a successful event, I also believe that leaving that plan open to some flexibility is almost equally as vital. While the event would have been structured and planned by me, I'm also aware that roleplay isn't just one person telling a story; I want to see the participating roleplayers making some impact. If they were to act in a certain way or do something in particular that would divert the event from its originally-intended path, I'd be ready to cater to this by making the roleplayers feel like their actions matter while also progressing the event. I feel like I can achieve this by planning multiple routes through pre-planned events, and perhaps even multiple endings.
- 'Different' Events - I mentioned earlier that I like creating unique and original concepts, and this is something I really want to bring across in events. While there's nothing wrong with the tried-and-trusted events like fighting off some undead or hunting down some big bad monster and getting showered in loot, I've always personally favoured a different approach. My favourite types of events, books, movies, etc. are those that are not black and white, but make the participants think about what's going on, and the choices they make. I feel like an event could be a lot more fun and meaningful if players are forced to consider their actions and know wonder whether or not they're doing the right thing. I'll showcase an example of this in one of my scenarios below.
What strengths would you bring to the team:- Initiative - I can see this being one of the core strengths required by a member of the Event Team, and I'm fairly confident when I say I can exhibit this quality. After I get taught the logistics and the basics, since I'm a total noob at LOTC staff things, I shouldn't need any encouragement to go out there and either organize events for specific factions, or track down some poor, oblivious players and spring an event on them, or maybe just ask over global OOC if anyone would like for me to host an event. Regardless of which method I act through, I feel like I have the initiative to do so actively.
- Accessibility - I'd like to be able to style myself as a member of the Event Team that literally anyone from any faction could approach and request an event. I'm not very well known at all among the community, but as a result of that, I have no enemies and no negative reputation, and as such I feel like people would be able to ask me for events for anything at all, and I'd be more than happy to facilitate them.
- Cooperative - I have no issues with working as a team to pull off some events, and I'd be happy to contribute plenty of my own ideas for said event, or help other people execute their own ideas. Typically, I do work reasonably well on teams, though I don't have any examples to cite here on this particular community, unfortunately. But I do take pride in my ability to communicate openly and honestly, which leads to my ability to work pretty well with a team.
- Patience - I have an abundance of patience, which is mostly as a result of no-life grinding on certain games (thanks, Runescape). Because of this, I'm fairly well equipped with dealing with any frustrating situations that might arise when hosting or organizing and event, though obviously I hope that's never the case. Regardless, it's definitely a boon when dealing with any tedious scenarios.
- Commitment - Once I decide to sell you my soul, I'm probably not getting it back. So basically, once I fully invest in hosting or organizing an event, I'm going to aspire to get it done, no matter how long it takes.
- Leadership - If the need arises for me to lead a group effort to organize an event, for example, then I'd consider myself pretty competent at getting it done, between communicating with all members involved and delegating the required tasks needed in order to fully prepare the event. I'd also be certain to consult everyone involved before making any solid decisions, so as we can really preent the event as a true team effort, rather than one person's work with a handful of modifications done by others.
- Self-Appraising - I'm unsure if this is the right word to describe what I mean, but it's best surmised in this quote; "If you want to serve the age, betray it". After an event, regardless of whether it goes well or not, I'll make an earnest effort to fully analyse how it went, from my personal feelings about it and feedback from the players involved. Following that, all that feedback will be taken on board and it'll be considered when I get around to planning my next event. I'll do my best to make sure any mistakes that were made in the past again, and if anyone has suggestions, such as more combat/loot or whatever else, I'll also be inclined to listen to them, and adjust the subsequent event if the circumstances allow it.
Why do you want to be part of the team:Several reasons, the most prominent of which is that it'd simply be fun. I love to write and create my own ideas and themes, and being able to share that hobby with other roleplayers through events that I get to orchestrate is something that really appeals to me, and I genuinely think I'd have a great time doing it while at the same time other people to enjoy my events and have fun.
Secondly, as of late, I keep seeing a lot of people asking in global OOC 'where's the RP at?' or claiming, 'there's no RP anywhere'. While I do try to offer to roleplay with some of these people, what I'd honestly love to do is set up a little event and help increase activity during GMT hours, when a lot of other players in American timezones would still be at school/work/college and roleplay would be running a little dry.
Additionally, I do enjoy roleplaying on this server, and it's given me some good memories and a great pastime. Because of that, I feel obliged to help out the server and do my part to try and improve it and make a more fun and enjoyable place for everyone. Since my talents would mainly fall under helping out through writing and performing events, I feel like I'd best be able to contribute to the community a a member of the Event Team.
Finally, as I mentioned in the question related to which groups I'd best cater to, I'd really love the opportunity to fully explore all the rich and unique lore of the various factions and use it to craft an event that would not only explore the lore and history of that specific race, but other races could participate in order to learn more about a culture and race different from their own. I feel like, at times, the lore can be sorely overlooked by some players, and I think it'd be both cool and fun to help spread awareness about some of the lore via some events - but naturally, it would be executed in a way that didn't overwhelm players with information and cause them to lose interest.
Create three distinct event scenarios based on the servers lore that you would organize:Beauty or the Beast
SpoilerSize: This event would probably best cater for a group of around 2 - 6 players.
Groups: This event would not be focused towards any particular group, and will be open for all players to participate in.
Location: This event would primarily take place in a large forested region, wherein the nest for some kind of monster could be built.
Summary: This event would begin on the side of a road, ideally one that is reasonably popular, next to a large, uninhabited forest area. The participants would encounter a young and beautiful woman, though she appears flustered and, upon spotting the participants, calls out for help. The woman is clearly distraught, and her face is stained red by a continuous flow of tears. Through her sobs, she explains that she recently married a local huntsman, who vowed to kill a great beast in order to demonstrate his love for hi wife. Yet, the woman explains that her husband was set upon by a 'dark and hellish' beast that attacked and presumably killed him. She pleads with the participant to reclaim her husband's body from the woods so that she may give it a proper burial, and that they should kill the beast so that it cannot claim another innocent life. The woman explains that her husband can be recognized by a special sword he carried, with a pommel mounted a silver ladybird.
Leaving the distraught women by the road, the participants venture forth into the woods. Along the way, there'll be a number of different paths and small obstacles to overcome. These aren't hugely significant; they just determine what the group will encounter as they move through the woods. For example, they might all have to sneak over a series of spider webs, and if any participant touches, it'll trigger some hostile spider to attack them - just little events like that to entertain the participants as the event slowly progresses. Some other general challenges will be inserted here, such as puzzles, parkour, etc. that just serves as some interactive challenges. Regardless, there will never just be one outcome of any of these encounters: the participants might be driven back by spiders and forced to back-peddle and choose a different path. Here, I'd love to include some types of creatures unique to the lore of the server, so there could be creatures such as Skelts, Venators and Winged Screamers, all of which will get the chance to exhibit their defining traits.
Eventually, the participants will come to a clearing, where they hear the distant cry of some kind of beast. A brief appraisal of the clearing reveals a break into the shrubbery that suggests some kind of beast pass through, and upon following it, the participants are faced with another small puzzle; they're required to track the beast, through a number of broken branches, pawprints, etc. If they follow the wrong lead, it might trigger an encounter with a hostile wild animal - again, I like to make use of the lore of LOTC, so I'd make this animal something like an Amber Wolf and similar to the previous encounters, fighting doesn't have to be the only solution. After following the correct tracks, the participants will stumble into the lair of the beast itself.
Immediately, the beast presents itself: as the stalk-yellow talons leave deep gashes in the wood, the draconian body of the Cockatrice snakes around the moss-riddled trunks before it enters the clearing, and faces the participants. However, a tense moment of silence grips the clearing before it becomes apparent that the beast is not hostile. Also in the clearing, the participants would be alerted to the dead of body who was undoubtedly the woman's husband. With his breastplate clawed into mishappen streaks, the man's skin appears to have been turned to stone by the Cockatrice's trademark 'Stoning' smog. Yet, before the participants can either flee or engage the beast, they notice a second corpse nearby: it is the corpse of another Cockatrice, albeit a much smaller one. A hatchling, evidently, and most certainly dead - a sword is plunged through its scaly chest, pinning to the grassy ground. The pommel of the sword is mounted with the silver ladybird, just like the woman described her husband's.
It then becomes apparent what has transpired: the woman's husband did not try to slay a mighty beast, but instead he prayed on a young, child Cockatrice, which could not truly hope to defend itself from an armed human. The parent Cockatrice quickly arrived, and subsequently avenged its child by brutally murdering the human. However, the Cockatrice is not immediately hostile towards the participant, and a choice looms; they can either resolve to kill the Cockatrice, so that it can never kill again. Alternatively, the participants can realize that the Cockatrice is, in truth, not a dangerous creature, and they it only slew the human in order to avenge its fallen young.
Conclusion:
- If the participants decide to kill the Cockatrice, this will result in a roleplayed fight. The Cockatrice is a difficult beast to strike, but any damage dealt will be substantial. The participants will have to deal with the Cockatrice's 'Stoning' smog, alongside its physical attributes, such as its sharp talons. Regardless, after the encounter, the Cockatrice is killed, and the participants will be able to strip its corpse of any valuable materials, such as its drakeskin hide. Additionally, the corpse of the young Cockatrice can be looted for the ladybird longsword. Just a little further into the Cockatrice's layer, some valuables can be found on the corpses of some ancient victims. With the sword in hand, the participants can return the man's corpse to her lover so that he can be buried, and the woman will offer the participants a reward of her own, thus concluding the event.
- However, there is also the option to leave the Cockatrice in peace to mourn for its murdered young. As the participants turn to depart, the Cockatrice seems to give some indication of understanding. With a touch far too gentle for a beast, the Cockatrice plucks the ladybird sword from the younger Cockatrice's body, before tossing it carelessly away. Then, the Cockatrice drags its dead young deeper into its lair, presumably for burial. With the ladybird sword, the participants return to the woman outside the forest and inform that her husband was killed after murdering the beast's young. Enraged, she gets foul-mouthed with the participants, claiming that they favour beasts over men. The participants can decide whether or not to return her husband's sword to her, though if they refuse, the wife is sadly pushed over the edge by the sudden loss of her husband and the fact that the participants could not reclaim his body or even return his sword. In a blind rage, she draws a dagger and attacks the group. If she is somehow not killed, but instead wounded or knocked unconscious, I've love to do a follow up event involving the woman and the individuals who refused to return the sword to her.
In Too Deep
SpoilerSize: This event should be able to cater to any size of group.
Groups: It's not specifically geared for any particular faction, but it might this event can occur differently depending on the races participating. For example, if a dwarf is among the participating personas, a different ending will be available and that specific persona will have a unique role to play in the event.
Location: For the most part, this event would go down in a cave system, though the location of said cave doesn't hugely matter.
Summary: Whilst travelling along a mountainous route, the roleplayers participating in this event would come across a dwarf standing outside a cave. This dwarf has clearly been having a rough time: his clothes are tattered, his beard is unkempt and matted with dirt and sweat, and his stubby face is so grimy that his pale skin is difficult to see. Additionally, the dwarf has a walking stick - it's quite obvious that he's been crippled. If questioned about it, the dwarf brushes the question aside, vaguely stating it occurred in some war. He tells the participants that there's a horde of treasure lying at the bottom of the cave, and he eagerly urges them to go pick it up, since he claims that he's too crippled to do any cave-dwelling. The situation is a little suspcious, and the dwarf's claims and answers are doubtful at best - yet, presumably, some of the participants have the courage to go investigate anyway.
As the participants begin to traverse down through the cave, the walls suddenly shake: behind them, something appears to have collapsed over the entrance, disabling them from exiting the cave the same way that they came in. Though its not explicitly stated, it will be hinted that some kind of tool, such as a pickaxe, could have been heard in the distance just before the entrance caved in. Stripped of choice, the participants carry on down into the cave. The first difficulty that they encounter comes in a dark cavern: a chasm divides the cavern in two, and there appears to be some narrow wooden structures built to cross between them. Yet it is so dark in the cave, that it is nearly impossible to see these structures. As the participants strike up their torches, they quickly spot something sinister in the torchlight: an iron cage hanging on a peg on the wall, wherein lies a dead canary. Immediately, the participants become aware that there is a build-up of natural gas present in the cave, and that their torches could set off an explosion. Limited to just two torches in order to remain safe, the participants have to find the correct way across the dark chasm using their limited lighting.
Once they overcome the chasm, they find a number of decomposed bodies in the next corridor of caves. Upon a brief examination, the participant manage to discover that the corpse seems ... deflated, as if every drop of blood in its body was removed. There was also grizzly bite marks on the upper parts of its decomposing head. Disturbed but without answers, the group carries on. In the next section of the cave, they discover that this must have been an old mine, due to the sudden appearance of a minecart track held aloft on rickety scaffolding. They find yet another cavern, though thankfully, there are cracks in the ceiling that allow natural light to spill the area. An underground waterfall is also present, and due to the vast cavern, its roaring torrent is deafening. The participants discover an old set of controls that they must use to set the minetracks in the proper direction in order to deliver them safely to the other side.
Finally, after negotiating their way over the second cavern, the participants find themselves in a much deeper section of the cave. There is a stench of decay in the air, and every so often, some of the participants think they hear something scuttling in the distance but they're not sure if it's just their imagination or not. They proceed with caution, until they discover several more corpses littered along the floor of the cave. However, these corpses are much older, and any attempt to identify their cause of death proves futile. Yet something certainly feels wrong. At one stage, as they pass into the next section of the caves ... a shadow suddenly descends down upon one of the participants. Whether it's avoided via a roll or the other participants come to the rescue, the creature, which can be identified a Cave Leech, is prevented from horrifically draining their blood. A brief fight occurs, and the Cave Leech is, presumably, killed. The participants experience the chilling realization that they are in a nest of Cave Leeches.
The participants must then advance very slowly, in order not to awaken any more sleeping Cave Leeches, which appear to be sleeping right above them. They'll have to rely on pure chance to in order to safely creep to the other side, and if they trigger any Cave Leeches, they have to make a break for it as quickly as possible and barricade themselves inside a narrow inlet of the cave, with seemingly no way out.
- IF A DWARF IS PRESENT at this point in the event, they will suddenly hear a whisper from just behind what appears to be a wall of the cave. The whisper is quite clearly the dwarf who led the participants into the cave in the first place, and he claims that he does not wish to spill the blood of his kinsmen. He offers to help the dwarf escape, and leave the other participants to be murdered by the Cave Leeches. Once they are dead, the crippled dwarf claims that they will share the loot from their corpses. If the dwarf participant accepts, he is shown a secret door and permitted to leave the cave. If he refuses, the crippled dwarf curses him as a traitor. This choice will come into effect once again later in the event.
As the Cave Leeches continue to try and track the participants down in the cave, the participants must sneak to somewhere safe. If there was a dwarf persona present, and he chose to leave, his absence will obviously be noted at this point. If the participants safely to manage to sneak further into the cave, without triggering more Cave Leeches, which will either result in a fight or a chase scene, they will eventually come across one of the secret passages that the crippled dwarf seemed to be using. The participants escape through this door, and follow a secret passage down into a small room, where they find the crippled dwarf once again. If the dwarf persona chose to leave with the crippled dwarf, he is now offered the chance to aid the participants once again. In a monlogue that would put Hamlet to shame, the crippled dwarf goes on a rant about how he was crippled in a war with humans, and lost everything as a result. Obviously, there's meant to be some degree of emotion present here, and that'll be portrayed through the actual speech itself rather than this summary.
Conclusion:
- With the crippled dwarf cornered, the natural instinct is to kill him for trying to have the participants fed to the Cave Leeches. However, in order to try and save his own skin, the crippled dwarf quickly tells the participants that, in return for sparing him, he will reward them with rare weapons that he stripped from the corpse of an unfortunate soul he fed to the Cave Leeches. He motions to a vault built into the stone wall of the cave, and it becomes apparent that it will not open without a key. If the participants decide to kill the crippled dwarf, they can strip the room for some meagre possessions, such as emeralds, gold, lapis, and iron. They can then follow the passage back up to the surface, and to safety. The event subsequently concludes.
- If the participants decide to spare the dwarf, he presents them with an ancient, stone key before he scuttles away (again, this is a nice opportunity for a follow-up event with the players involved here). Upon unlocking the stone vault, the participants find these weapons. While not exceedingly powerful, they are of a fine craftsmenship. The participants can also strip the room for the meagre possessions mentioned above. They can then follow the passage back up to the surface, and to safety. The event subsequently concludes.
- IF a dwarf persona is present and IF he chose to side with the crippled dwarf originally, he is now offered the chance to defend the crippled dwarf, after he is promised all the treasure the crippled dwarf has hoarded from the victims of the Cave Leeches. This will likely result in a fight between the dwarf and the other participants. If the dwarf comes out victorious, he is able to claim all the participants carried, along with the crippled dwarf's stockpile of weapons. If the participants defeat him, however, then he gets nothing. The survivor(s) can then follow the passage back up to the surface, and to safety. The event subsequently concludes.
A Darker Passion
SpoilerSize: Doesn't hugely matter for this event.
Groups: This would probably be best suited to races that could be associated with rural communities, such as humans or halflings, though other races can participate - note that not all races can participate, however; this event heavily revolves around a conserved human community, which would reject the likes of orcs and dwarves.
Location: This event would occur at any nice village location, preferably in an isolated location.
Summary: Whilst passing by this village, the participants would find an aged man who appears to be distressed. When questioned by the participants, he is reluctant to say anything, but after a little convincing, he reveals that his eldest daughter is meant to be married to a wealthy merchant who recently settled down in the village. However, he explains that his daughter has recently taken up the company of a known scoundrel who live in a small tent just outside the village, and he believes that she has run off with him. The father begs the participants to track down his daughter and stop her from eloping with this supposed scoundrel. The father claims that he's worried that there's something particularly bad about this 'scoundrel'. He suggests that the participants have a look in the nearby meadows, where his daughter often went walking.
Upon arriving at the meadow, the participants soon find the girl in question, and the young man she has eloped with. At first they almost refuse to talk to the participants, before the girl explains that she has no desire to marry the wealthy merchant, and her father only seeks monetary gain from her marriage. She goes on to say how she loves the man she has eloped with, and the man in question portrays himself as a very friendly man who takes the girl's heated argument and explains it to the participants in a reasonable way. All in all, everything seems normal except that the father is not getting the money he wants. Yet ... there is something unsettling about the man. Regardless, though, nobody can really prove anything. The couple inform them that they are going to perform an old rite of marriage in the meadow that evening, and bid them farewell.
After reporting back to the girl's father, the father insists that something is wrong here, and that money is not his primary goal, though he does admit that was part of the reason he pushed for his daughter's marriage with the merchant. He begs the participants to investigate the 'scoundrel's' campsite just outside the village, and he swears that he won't push the issue. Reluctantly, the participants should agree, and wearily set off to locate this camp. When they do, they feel the same uneasing vibe they felt when in the man's presence. Though every looks normal, the participants should notice that there is no bedroll, as if the man does not sleep. Hidden under one of the chests, they also find a diary of some sorts; within is mass of jumbled words and emotions, as if the man who wrote them could hardly think straight at the time. As they read about some kind of horrific suffering, the participants eventually piece together/read that the man is, in fact, a Shade Father.
Without delay, the participants hurry back to the meadow where the supposed wedding ceremony was to take place. Instead of a wedding, through, the participants arrive just in time to find the Shade Father and an unconscious girl, who looks as if she is about to be infected with the Shade Parasite. Also present is the girl's father, who seems to have taken matters into his own hands his armed himself with a pitchfork. Yet, embraced with Amber, the Shade Father is clearly n control of the situation. As the participants arrive, the Shade Father quickly speaks before a fight can corrupt: he claims he simply seek a protegé for the sake of company, and that once he infects the girl, he will leave the village in peace. However, if argued with, the Shade Father contemplates and says he will settle for the life of the father instead. The father seems prepared to sacrifice himself, but the point is also made that the Shade Father should not be trusted. It's up to the participants to decide how they ought to proceed.
Conclusion:
- The participants can decide to engage the Shade Father in combat, resulting in a difficult battle as the Shade Father fully utilizes his dark powers, the most potent of which is the Amber. After this tense battle, the girl's father will be felled in the battle before the Shade Father can be vanquished. With the Shade Father dead, the girl wakes up to find her father dying. A tearful farewell occurs, following which the girl rewards the participants with some trinkets the Shade had given her. The girl goes to bury her father, and the event concludes.
- If the participants agree to let the father sacrifice himself to satisfy the Shade and save his daughter, then the father will be infected by the Shade Parasite and taken away peacefully by the Shade. When the girl wakes and learns what happens, she curses the participants and flees. The participants and free to loot the Shade's trinkets, and the event concludes.
- If the participants decide to allow the Shade Father to infect the daughter, then the father will charge at the Shade Father, only to be mercilessly killed. The Shade Father then infects the daughter, before rewarding the participants for their understand with his trinkets. He then takes his new Shadeling, and departs in peace, concluding the event.
How long do you plan to be able to work on the team:For however long as you'd have me, I guess. I'm a fairly active GMT roleplayer, though come the holidays and weekends I'm more than happy to stay up and cater to events more suited towards American timezomes, because who really needs sleep anyway. Though, if I do become inactive for whatever reason, I'll be the first person to call it out, and if I'm unable to fix that, I'll gladly step down. So I don't have a particular time in mind, so I'd just be happy to remain as a member of the event team for as long as I can and want to.
Tell me a joke:What's the difference between the Titantic and my ex-girlfriend?
Spoiler.
The Titantic only went down on 1,000 people.
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If you had to choose between ending world hunger or making pokemon real, what starter would you pick
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You still have my details, and I'm happy to continue working an adviser for new human players. The couple of people who've sought me out seemed pretty grateful for a hand, so I definitely recommend you keep going with this great initiative. I'd actually recommend you urge new players to seek out this assisstance.
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Tell me I'm pretty
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-+=+-
16th of the Grand Harvest, 1596.
For over a week, the doors of the St. Karlsburg Administration office remained locked and sealed, and not a soul was to be spotted passing through its solitary threshold. For over a week, the High Steward and his diligent subordinates convened around a mound of parchment, each one of which bore different handwriting, the content consisted of only one of two possible names. For over a week, the Stewards determined who would become, or remain as, the Maer of St. Karlsburg.
By the time the doors of the office swung open to admit the High Steward back onto the snow-white streets, the city had nearly become used to the suspenseful feeling that seemed to grip each political conversation, and gossip, most of it about attempted assassinations, seemed to have run dry. Yet the High Steward ignored the excited whispers and stares from the townsfolk as he pulled his bearskin cloak tightly around his shoulders to ward off the unrelenting cold.
A cold had already gathered in the square, and the High Steward had to avail of the aid of two Royal Brigadiers, and several muttered apologies, before he could reach the platform. There were no podium present now, and no polling boxes - the High Steward stood on his lonesome, overlooking the trodden snow of the square, and the townsfolk that hurriedly piled into it as news of the elections results traveled as swift a Haense's wind.
Yet as the square seemed to fill, it seemed to become more quiet, as the townspeople hushened one another before their eyes snapped back to the High Steward, awaiting the elusive result. It was not until that the High Steward could hear the distant whipping of banners in the wind, and his own heartbeat, that he finally sucked in a breath of icy-air.
"By the grace of King Marius, please give your blessings to Lukas Vanir - Maer of St. Karlsburg."
-+=+-
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7th of the Grand Harvest, 1596.
Haense seldom knew summer; the High Steward was well aware of that fact as he took to the streets of St. Karlsburg in his heavy bearskin cloak, only to be greeted by the chilling bite of the wind. By the time he reached the square, snowflakes had nestled themselves in his windstrewn hair. With a solemn, flushed face, he approached the central platform in the heart of the city, where a crowd of cloaked townsfolk had gathered, all of them wearing eager faces and anticipating eyes.
The High Steward mounted the platform, where two boxes had been positioned on two slender podiums, their surface powdered white by the snow. There was a small slit in the top of each box - just large enough to fit a sheet of parchment. The High Steward stood betwixt the two podiums, and turned his muddy-brown eyes on the crowd. For a moment, a tense silence claimed the square, broken only by the whistle of the wind, before the Steward gestured to the boxes.
"Begin."
((Voting will close at 3AM GMT/10PM EST))
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Is gut guy, ja.
+1
1 -
+2.
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Is the S or C silent in Scent?
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If Buzz Lightyear didn't believe he was a toy, why did he freeze everytime a human entered the room?
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"I hear Johannesburg is nice this time of year."
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"My, my."
Floris mumbled as he lazily turned the parchment over in his slender fingers, as if expecting to find something written on the other side. The dark office, lit only by pale shafts of silvery moonlight, seemed to swallow up the lonesome words.
"Declaring this when all but one battle has been one, and the odds are unimaginably stacked in favour of the coalition." Suddenly, a deep scowl marred Floris' face, and he crumpled the parchment in his pale fist. "How very brave." In one fluid moment, he leapt up from his desk, and hurled the crumpled parchment at the wall. It bounced harmlessly off a faded tapestry that once bore the Orenian crest, only now it was unrecognizable.
Almost instantly, weariness reclaimed his face, and he collapsed back into his chair. Suddenly, he scoffed a lifeless, bitter laugh. "I'm a bloody steward, yet I've more honour than these swine. Funny how that turned out. Oh, mother, you'd be proud."
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The morning of the 4th of the Deep Cold was an unforgiving one.
As the High Steward made his way into the heart of St. Karlsburg, a chilling wind swept through the streets of Haense's capital, sending the Steward's woolen cloak fluttering and dancing in unison with banners that flapped fiercely from the rooftops in the northern wind. After what felt like an age of trekking through the snow, the Steward finally mounted the wooden platform in central Karlsburg, the steps of which creaked beneath his weight, and he brandished a long sheet of parchment. He sucked in a deep breath, and called out:
"While Maer Vanir's time in office continues to bring progress and prosperity to St. Karlsburg, the time has come to prepare for the second election for the Maer of the city of St. Karlsburg. All those who seek the office, step forward now! All candidates must be a resident of the city, and announce their candidacy before the year's end."
His solemn speech was carried through the square by the wind, which strangely seemed to enhance its volume. Slowly, the Steward furled the parchment once again, and descended from the platform. As he retreated to the warmth of indoors, the city square suddenly bloomed to life with the talk of the approaching elections.
((Nominate your characters below. Nominations will end on Saturday.))
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Usually, the Johannesburg air would be filled with the ceaseless din of chatter and a chorus of craftsmen
applying their trade, be it carpenters sawing through wood or merchants crying their wares in
the cobbled streets. Yet on that particular morning of the First Seed, chatter was replaced by the echoing clashes
of dulled steel on dulled steel as levies trained, and the only sound of craftsmen working that one could
pick out was the unrelenting chime of blacksmith's hammers.
Floris de Ruyter, holed up in his modest office, could not quite accustom himself to what he had come to know
as the sounds of war. On that particular morning, as he sat hunched over Norrington's letter, the sounds of
clanging swords and blacksmith hammers only caused a scowl to mar his slender face, though with his sharp nose
and chin, some might have said that a scowl suited him well. He lazily scanned the contents of the loyalist letter
with his heavy-lidded before he gave up tossed it towards the edge of his desk, where it joined an ever-increasing
pile of propoganda, both of Orenian and Courland origin, that had made its way to his desk. He had read them
all, and he had failed to understand them all.
"Corruption and justice. What bullshit," he grumbled as he pushed off from his high-backed chair,
and strode leisurely towards theback wall of the room, where a lone limestone
fireplace stood lonely and ashen cold. Yet his eyes hesitantly drifted to the
polished mirror that hung above the fireplace, and to the reflection that Floris had, ever since the war began in
earnest, struggled to face. Slender and slight, the role of a Steward suited Floris well as a warrior of the quill,
yet that had it's limitations. He was not strong, he was not fast, and he was certainly no killer.
As he continued to stare at his own reflection, the sound of swords clashing outside seemed
to grow louder and louder. He had never been a warrior, and he knew that he never could be. His
talent lay with the quill and words, yet he knew that the war has surpassed the point of quill and words. Finally, he
managed to avert his eyes from his dispiriting reflection, and instead turned them to where an old,
dusty bluesteel blade hung suspended on the rack. The golden light of the summer morning filtered through
the office's wide windows and illuminated particles of dust in long golden shafts before it fell on the blade's metal,
causing the alloy to gleam brightly.
As the sounds of blades reigned on outside, Floris puffed up his cheeks and sighed. With reluctant footsteps,
he tread over towards the blade. He simply stood there, staring at the thing like he had never seen
a blade before in his life, before he finally reached forward with a bony hand and pulled the
sword free of its rack. The metal rasped as it was pulled free from the wood, and almost
immediately, Floris dropped it, and the sword clattered to the floor. He had not expected it to be so
heavy. Even though there had been no one present to witness it, his cheeks were tinted a shade of
crimson as he bent down to clasp the hilt in both hands.
He stood there, holding the sword for a few moments and letting the golden light of the
summer morning dance against its unscathed surface. He wondered how someone like him could
ever actually use a sword in the heat of battle, where a warrior of words was more like a
hindrance than a help, but he supposed there was only one way to find out.
While still clasping the blade, he cast a sidelong glance to Norrington's loyalist letter, before
his muddy-brown eyes flickered to the elaborate tapestry that detailed the Orenian crest that hung
beside his office door. The tapestry had once depicted the Orenian crest in vibrantly coloured threads, but it
had long since faded to the extent where some parts of the crest were nearly completely illegible.
"If I die for you, I'm going to be very upset," Floris grumbled at the crest, before he slung the sword over one shoulder,
and, for the first time in his life, left the office with the intention of using it.
2 -
"Mister ... Mister de Ruyter? Did you hear me, sir?"
Floris, slouched in the high-backed wooden chair of his office, had been staring pensively out of his office's wide window, through which the pale light of the evening filtered through. He had simply been watching the fat droplets of rain roll lazily down the glass, distorting the view, while the roll of thunder roared distantly in the sky.
"Hrm? What was that?" Floris' deep, muddy-brown eyes flickered to the doorway, where the youthful courier stood clutching a furled roll of parchment and bearing an awfully uncertain expression.
"M-Minister Manston, he ... h-he's dead, sir."
Floris blinked his heavy-lidded eyes at the courier, before he simply reverted his gaze to the window, and the rain that rolled down it. If he was surprised by the news, his slender face betrayed no sign of it - he maintained the neutral expression of indifference that he so often donned in public. For a moment, an eerie silence claimed the office, broken only by the dull drumming of the rain as it slapped the window.
"Mister de Ruyter?" the courier stammered hesitantly.
"Yes, thank you," Floris said mildly. "You can leave now."
The courier seemed more than happy to oblige, though Floris was so engrossed in his own thoughts that he hardly heard the door close, nor the hurried footsteps of the courier as he scuttled down the hallway. In fact, Floris was hardly aware of the courier's departure until he saw his figure pass beneath the window, twisted by the droplets of rain.
Finally, Floris stood, prompting his chair to creak as it was relieved of his weight. With his bony hands clasped behind his back, Floris found himself wandering towards the window. Despite the splattering rain, Floris could just about make out the city that lay just beyond it. Floris was not quite sure how long he stood there, or when the pale evening light turned to the silvery gaze of the moon and a starless sky claimed the city.
Lost in his myriad of thoughts, Floris finally sighed and instead decided to watch as the distant glow of fire and torches bloomed all across the city, replacing the stars the sky sorely lacked. As he did so, he wondered whether if the townsfolk knew who Edmond Manston was, or the work he had done for them - the thankless work and the selfless hours that it would have taken to elevate a man of common birth to such a position, a position through which he had moulded the city into something greater.
He wondered if the assassin knew he had killed more than just a simple man, but man who was an artist in his own right.
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Name
Roggero de Mett
Age
Twenty-three
Race
Human, Heartlander
Past Military Experience
Nada
Place of Residence
Metterden
Other Experience Worth Noting
Nothing of significance
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MC Name
Xarkly
Skype ID
Sparklexarkle
Teamspeak
No
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Floris buttered a slice of toast and drew a picture of an apple.
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BASIC INFORMATION
« OUT OF CHARACTER NAME » Xarkly
« IN CHARACTER NAME » Floris
« SURNAME » House de Ruyter
« GENDER » Male
« NOBLE » Yes
PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION
« DATE OF BIRTH » 1st of the Amber Cold, 1564
« HEIGHT & WEIGHT » 6'1 & 250 lbs
« EYE, SKIN & HAIR COLOR » Brown eyes, brown-blond hair, pale skin.
« CULTURE » N/A
« MARKINGS » None.
PERSONAL INFORMATION
« HOME ADDRESS » 9 Sweetman Avenue, Johannesburg
« PROVINCE » Crownloands
« OCCUPATION » Steward-General
REQUIREMENTS MET:
B) IMPERIAL OFFICER OR HEAD OF ADMINISTRATIVE DEPARTMENT [X]CITIZEN'S OATH
« CITIZENS ONLY »
I, Floris de Ruyter, hereby swear my loyalty to the Emperor of the Holy Orenian Empire entirely by my free will. I swear to read and obey the laws of the Empire and understand the punishments and penalties that will be incurred should I violate the law.
I, Conor, hereby acknowledge and give my consent to the OOC rule that should my character be found guilty of High Treason within the Empire, the Emperor personally (and only the Emperor) has the right to execute permanently my character. I accept this condition and make it entirely upon my free will.
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"This is rather excellent.
I wonder who wrote it."
0
[Denied]Vegetarianism's GM App
in Denied
Posted
My favorite Oren RPer, +1