Cjmate

Mr. House After quickly occupying the city and the surrounding territory, Mr. House renames the ruins of Las Vegas New Vegas. He incorporates three tribes into New Vegas and grants them each their own casino: The Chairmen, the White Glove Society, and the Omertas. Each have their own agendas, but they have agreed to join due to overwhelming force, promises of caps, and glory. These three families constitute the bulk of Mr. House's human army, as well as his retainers. With the Mojave loosely under his control, Mr. House begins the reconstruction and fortification of the strip. The tribals are sent out around the city to secure metal, glass, and neon from local shops. Mr. House and the three families set to work on repairing the the Strip and isolating it from the rest of the city. A gate is constructed to keep unwantables out, and it is manned by several Securitrons. Mr. House spends his afternoons with Jane; she offers him comfort and solace. They spend long hours into the night, holding conversations which allow him to retain some hold on his humanity. She tempers his actions and lets him remain in control of his emotions. After several weeks, Mr. House decides that some actions must be taken. In order to return the strip to its former glory and start generating revenue from it, he will need to find a power source. He could retake Hoover Dam, but manning it with his current army would be far too daunting and restrict his ability to manage, scout and conquest. Instead, he orders that the families split up. He delegates each a task that will advance the completion of the Strip. Territory: Mr. House looks to expand East into Zion Valley and fortify his position as ruler of New Vegas. Actions: A handful of Chairmen are sent North and East, through a pass leading to Zion Valley on a scouting mission. They are looking for viable food sources and trade routes, as well as to take new land ((Mod)). The remainder of the Chairmen are sent outside of the strip to make contact with the locals that did not put up a fight against Mr. House and attempt to assimilate them peacefully, promising food and security. This is to better secure and prevent internal problems before Mr. House expands. The Omertas are sent to Nellis Air Base, North East of New Vegas, to take over and hold it. They are looking for assault weapons ((Mod)). The White Glove Society remain in the Strip to fortify and repair it for its opening.The Securitrons attempt to police and assert influence on the people of Mr. House's territory to validate his claim.In the Lucky 38, Mr. House and his personal staff of Securitrons attempt to upgrade Victor with higher software that will allow him to hack into terminals for an upcoming mission ((Mod)). Current Assets: 3,500 Securitron Mark I: The Securitron Mark I comes equipped with a 9mm sub-machine gun, M-235 missile launchers attacked to their shoulders, and G-28 grenade launchers. To compensate, Mr. House has a limited number of these Securitrons, he is incapable of making more, and they cannot perform human roles such as building, fitting into tight spaces, or negotiating extensively (Victor is a special exception as his design is more personal and intricate). 6,500 Tribals: The 6,500 tribals are divided evenly among Mr. House's strip families. They have limited gear: pistols, machetes, and raider-esque gear (Merc, Veteran, Charmer outfits, etc).

Mr. House sends his initial Securitrons around New Vegas, unearthing and activating additional Securitron units. (I want to edit my original army from 500 to 9,000 Securitrons. Cracker said my army was too small in Skype.)

Mr. House Mr. House was able to survive the onslaught of the Great War by constructing a series of laser cannons which he mounted on the roof of the Lucky 38. He sheltered himself in his hibernation chamber preserving his body indefinitely. He has been awake for nearly 60 years, but now he has awaken to assert his control over the nearby dominion and take control over Las Vegas. The doors of the Lucky 38 open, and out emerge the Securitron Mark I which serve as Mr. House's body while he operates them from his chambers. Within no time at all, he annihilates the surrounding hostile tribals and takes control of the strip. The Securitrons quickly sweep across the city, and the surrounding counties poise little threat to his domain. Mr. House asserts limited control over the following region: To keep himself happy, he creates a new persona for one of the Securitrons. He designates her "Jane." He also creates the robot "Victor," and he designates this robot as his right hand; Victor will handle all diplomatic ventures, both internal and external of New Vegas. After a few weeks following his release, Mr. House begins to negotiate and set up discussions with the surrounding tribals. Actions: 1. Mr. House sends Victor to negotiate with the surrounding tribals, hoping to incorporate at least three tribes into New Vegas which will aid him in reconstructing the city and gaining much needed human personnel to his army ((Mod)): 2. Mr. House's Securitrons begin patrolling the city, trying to maintain and promote his control/reign over the citizens. Current Assets [Please Check This ((Mod))]: 500 Securitron Mark I: The Securitron Mark I comes equipped with a 9mm sub-machine gun, M-235 missile launchers attacked to their shoulders, and G-28 grenade launchers. To compensate, Mr. House has a limited number of these Securitrons, he is incapable of making more, and they cannot perform human roles such as building, fitting into tight spaces, or negotiating extensively (Victor is a special exception as his design is more personal and intricate).

I am switching to Mr. House. I was previously the Dead Horses tribe. APPLICATION: Mr. House Forum Name (Stupid question, I know, but just answer :P): Sabrinasser3 Have you read the rules?: Yes Type of Faction/Nation-State (Tribal, post-vault, survivor community, feudalistic, gang, etc.): Republic/Gangs Landed or Unlanded/Lands influenced (Factions start with one county, nation states up to three with a single town/city at their center. Please specify lands chosen on the map. If nomadic or unlanded, circle the general area that you roam or are based within): Mr. House awakens and immediately takes control of what was once Las Vegas, renaming it New Vegas. Race (Human, Mutant, Ghoul, or other): Human and Robot Description of Faction/Nation-State: Mr. House begins with control of the city of New Vegas, emerging from the Lucky38 to take control of the Mojave after hearing word of the rise of new factions. He no relationships with the tribes or factions in the New World, but he starts off with a small army of upgraded securitrons. After his released, he will immediately begin the reformation of Vegas and start subjugating the local populace rapidly expanding around the city of New Vegas. What is the Secret Password?: AndrewTechy Almighty

APPLICATION: Dead Horses Forum Name (Stupid question, I know, but just answer): Cjmate8 Have you read the rules?: Yes Type of Faction/Nation-State (Tribal, post-vault, survivor community, feudalistic, gang, etc.): Tribal Landed or Unlanded/Lands influenced (Factions start with one county, nation states up to three with a single town/city at their center. Please specify lands chosen on the map. If nomadic or unlanded, circle the general area that you roam or are based within): Landed faction. Race (Human, Mutant, Ghoul, or other): Human Description of Faction/Nation-State: Dead Horses. The Dead Horses tribe is a group of survivors operating in the beautiful, untouched region of Zion National Park in southeast Utah. They managed to escape much of the devastation, but they are stuck as nomadic wasteland survivors without access to significant technology. They start off with no enemies, but the White Legs in the North poise a problem. Their leader is Walks-on-Road Join the Skype Chat? (If yes, provide Skype name here or in PMs): Yes. Sabrinasser3 What is the Secret Password?: AndrewTech Almighty

An entry is sent in. It seems written quickly, scrawled. Smiles By Roy Sarkozic I am a man who, reveling in the fancies of my own evocations, has developed strong passion that the best life is that which is spent with little effort on my part; that is to say, I live for pleasure and I only employ myself as a wage-earner so that I may continue to live with that which I am accustomed to. All who know me consider me a safe man. As such, I find myself employed as a guardsman for the city, working a simple shift which also pays my necessities; I am fed, clothed, and given shelter. I have no needs, and so I have the time needed for my own projects. If I have a problem, it is that I am given to sleep walking, a strange occurrence that my officer had caught onto and informed me of. I found it odd, and I knew nothing of it, so I could not tell what it is I was doing but would frequently wake up at night outside of my bed. Still, my officer applauded me for my cheerful disposition and strong morals which he said found home in me moreover than most. Over the years, he gave me wide freedoms in my abilities and I was happy. One morning I was instructed to my duties; I would work night shift in the Dark Quarters. These were the slums which dotted the interior of the walls and were given to falling apart. Tiles would be found in unpaved streets of dirt and muck. The un-workers huddled around fire barrels in alleyways, and the walls of the the tomb-houses were falling apart. The unsanitary conditions coupled with the overwhelming poverty had made it a dangerous section to live in. The children took to pick pocketing, the men drank and assaulted blindly when in a stupor. It was agreed that all that could come out of them was lies and trickery; however, I understood their plight and tried to be lenient when it did not go against my favor. I kept to the walls, giving the houses and alleys a wide berth as I made my rounds. Without incident, I was nearing my shift when I chanced upon a comely woman with long ears. She ran in strides, bounding across the road as a group of burly, ragged men gave chase. Drawing my sword, I allowed her to pass and gave no quarter, "Hold." I raised my hand and held my blade at length. The biggest of the lot, whom I named Piggy, called out, "Ye dun know wha' her is, lo'. If ye did ye'd give her quick-fast, aye." "Hold." I maintained, "Give no chase, return to your occupations." And with that I raised the sword. "Aye lo', if so she's yer problem. Don' let her come back, lest she corrupt us with her witchery." He grasped his companions shoulders and retreated deep into the district. I returned to my duties, sheathing my sword and looking upon the woman. She appeared to be an Elf of sorts, and it was a ***** site for ones so humble to be in such a place. Her clothes, not rags, were plain and pure white with a brown rope strapped to her waist. She wore a turban which completely covered her head, and her hair, whatever shape or color, could not be discerned by my offices; yet her ears poked out, long things over a foot that went far behind her head like that of a scared rabbit. Her fiery eyes burned into my eyes, making it difficult to watch her without looking away. Perfume stench invaded my nostrils, intoxicating and foreign and frightening. It churned my stomach, wrenching my guts. "I am friend. I am noble." She stated plainly. I was unsure what to do with her, so I implored her take leave and go; that the docks would give her passage home. "I am friend. I am noble." She repeated. My nose twisted at the call of the heathen Elf, but my sense of honor demanded that I remove her from the district. Taking her hand, I made way toward the residential district, ending my shift; I went inside my home, a two story building with a kitchen and cellar. "You will sleep in the kitchens until morn, then leave by wagon." I implored, pleading, my feet retreating from her visage up to my chamber door. Again, she repeated her statement, "I am friend. I am noble." She gave her best smile, flashing bright translucent teeth my way. The purity of it struck me, and I immediately made to my bed. I pulled off my war gear and placed my body on the quilt. I soon sunk into deep slumber. It was in the depths of night, several hours before morning, that I woke up to a creaking. Weary, I forgot of my retainer and sat up in confusion. There was a tapping, a tapping at my door. Tap, tap...tap...tap. Growing slower. The door creaked, slowly opening, and I saw it. I saw the teeth, the pale luminescence of her teeth. Straight, cresting like a half moon. She smiled, she smiled at me and shuddered my soul. She seemed to wind toward me, slowly crawling up t he bed. I braced myself against the backboard, then reached to my side for my sword. Her hands crawled over me, like worms, and she peered up at me. Bright, white hair like that of a rabbit's fell down from her turban, which unraveled and fell aside. Then suddenly she frowned, sensing me. Her teeth receded, and it grew dark with anger and fear. This struck me suddenly and, grasping my pommel, I cried out and made with it a war song. Panting, sweating, I leaped up from my bed: No one was there. Clasping my forehead, wiping sweat I hunched over and cradled my hands over my knees. I breathed through my nostrils, closed my eyes, then fell back asleep. In the morning I found my visitor missing. Thinking she took my advice, I buckled my Byrnie and made for my morning rounds. Around noon, I found myself back in the Dark Quarter. Yawning, I waved cheerfully toward men who seemed to avoid my pathing. I frowned, finding it uneasy before something caught my eye. Something bright, masked with dust. I bent over, picking it up. There, I found a...tooth. A bright, white tooth without blemish. I threw it down and screamed, clutching my head. I ran home, frantic and impatient. I cried out, a madman. People's gazes followed me as I made for home. Overwhelmed with joy, I smiled and panted, clasping my knees. Horror overcame me. There, in the second floor window, was the heathen in white with her treacherous smile!

A board is erected to show the brackets in which people will be fighting. An officer stands by to take last minute applications. The tournament itself will begin soon (3pm). Location: The North, Port Vydrik Coordinates: X-1231, Y69, Z-3036 Applications After approaching the registrar you are handed a simple form to fill out. The tournament consists of three separate brackets of which all may be applied: a melee, a joust, and a hunt. The melee and joust will be conducted in a round robin bracket. The winner of the hunt will be who collects the most pelts. Each individual winner will be given a cash reward. The champion overall, someone who participates in all three rounds and receives favorable scores, will be rewarded a crown of lilies to give to his chosen Lady. OOC Rule: Your persona race must be indicative of your character. Humans cannot set their persona to Dwarf. Your inventory for the hunt must be empty. To be fair, all armor, weapons and horses will be supplied. Tournament Application: Mc Name: In Character Name: Age: Race: Applying Bracket(s):

Tournament is still at 3pm today.

Event Details Event Time: 3pm Eastern marks the start of the festival. The tournament begins after the priest has given his sermon. The market will be open all day.Event Location: Port Vydrik, down the road by the farmsEvent Date: 26 September 2015 Applications After approaching the registrar you are handed a simple form to fill out. The tournament consists of three separate brackets of which all may be applied: a melee, a joust, and a hunt. The melee and joust will be conducted in a round robin bracket. The winner of the hunt will be who collects the most pelts. Each individual winner will be given a cash reward. The champion overall, someone who participates in all three rounds and receives favorable scores, will be rewarded a crown of lilies to give to his chosen Lady. OOC Rule: Your persona race must be indicative of your character. Humans cannot set their persona to Dwarf. Your inventory for the hunt must be empty. To be fair, all armor, weapons and horses will be supplied. Tournament Application: Mc Name: In Character Name: Age: Race: Applying Bracket(s): ----------------------------------------- Vendor Application: Mc Name: In Character Name: Goods to be Sold:

Roy touches his lip with his index finger, tapping it and looking forward as they continue to walk, "I'm not a lamb! They have all that soft stuff." He pauses, a bit hungry, "I w-...waaaa....I want fruit. Fruit." He says adamantly, then kicks a rock in the road.

Roy looks at the pack of refugees as they enter the city. He points toward them with a chubby finger, then tugs at Lorina's robe. "Who are they?"

Roy looks up at her, nodding dumbly with his lips pressed staunchly together, "Mmm." He says, making a grumpy face as his cheek bones are high and lips slighter arced. He doddles along, looking forward so as not to trip. He makes awkward steps, a bit heavy-footed. He wears a large, white tunic tied at the waist.

(!) This is a spontaneous thread designed for more in depth, interpersonal roleplay. Basically, feel free to post what you like if your character would be doing anything in Vanaheim as if it would be in game. This is casual roleplay. In Vanaheim, a small boy of about three years old toddles alongside an elderly woman, Lorina Carrion; beside himself, he trips awkwardly as he passes over cobblestone which paves the road. He clutches her right hand tightly with both of his, tiny chubby fingers securing around her wrist for support. He eventually lets go of his right hand, depositing his fingers into his mouth to chew on them, still clutching at the woman for support with his opposite hand. He looks around at the buildings, saliva dripping down his hand.

This book is published and sold throughout markets in Oren. The Narration of Afansy Saltyvich By Zlatomir Carrion Chapter One It was during one of my travels North that I found two turbulent rivers wedged between a valley of hills; therein, I notice an island of some length. I had made the expedition with my young wife who had chosen to stay in the carriage while I made my expedition. She persisted that we carry on toward the villa, though I chanced to take a break from the tedious discourse between us. Trees dotted the banks, foliage a fluorescent green that shone bright as the sun rose; Slowly they fell and dotted the ground, crumpled like wilted flowers along a wedding aisle. I chanced upon a squirrel grasping at a nut, quickly departing as I wade through dense, unkempt grass and birch saplings. The thicket enveloped my legs, grasping and hugging my lower body until I broke out and reached the river's edge. The water gushed forth, beating against large rocks and spraying droplets against my face. Looking forward, I noticed a small island nestled between the two rivers. Few trees were on the island, and I noticed blushing red tulips sprinkled along the curve of the land; Laughing morning glories blossomed and laid their arms splayed around trees like a painted shield. On the farthest side of my peripheral, I noticed somber rocks towering like broken shells littered among small hills. They seemed to pervade the domain of the flourishing side, encroaching into the forest. Placing one foot onto a stray rock, leg retracted far and forward, I made my way between small nestles of rocks to get to the other side. Water streamed against my pant's leg, coating it with water dark, but I eventually persisted. I gave a deep sigh, breathing in the air that seemed sweeter. Taking care not to step onto any of the flowers, I wove through the valley and entered the forest. I first noticed rocks that littered the ground, painted yellow with paints. They seemed to follow a pattern, marking a path long gone and overtaken with weeds and bramble. I followed them, batting away stray limbs and vines until I came upon a small enclosure, a glade nestled among the birch trees. Placed in the center of the island was a large, broad stone with a flat surface. The sun beat down upon it, casting it white; I cupped my hand, placing it at my brow to gain better vision. Shades of cloud crested over the forest, and suddenly everything became dark. I put my hand to my side, stepped forward to gain vantage. The heat had subsided, quickly growing cool and almost chilling. A breeze gusted through the boughs of the trees, causing them to shake and tussle a flurry of weak leaves my way. Brushing them aside, I rubbed the palm of my hand against the smooth stone before planting myself upon it. As I closed my eyes, taking a breath to enjoy the serenity the closure offered, I thought about the prospect of living in such a place. It was clean, unburdened of the air that polluted the many cities from iron blooming, a different sort of field of flowers. Opening my eyes, I stared around with a baffled look. Tiny men had gathered around me, no bigger than the length of the tip of my finger to the wrist. They wore leather hats, knickers with straps that went over their arms and an assortment of shirts. The girls of them wore flowery dresses and aprons. I immediately came down to get a better look, nonplussed; they retreated to the forest, much to my chagrin. I quickly dove into my pockets, pulling out small coins for them. A brave one came out, slowly, taking the coin as big as his head from my fingers and holding it up to his face. A picture of an old king that no one remembered had been engraved on one side, which he made sure all could see. He skipped around, dancing and showing the others with the back of the coin pressed against his nose. As they came from their forested hiding spots, I gave them a broad grin and thought I might stay a while. Therein, they led me to their village of tiny hovels. Small tables with linen wrapped tables, not unlike a gift he would have made for his daughter, lined the streets. It was apparent that they had in middle of their celebration. Careful not to disturb them with my tremors, I lay down in the middle of them and allowed them to explore. Tiny children of theirs grasped my shoelace, swinging from it like a branch. Others inspected the brass of my buckle while the little mothers threw their aprons up in silly shame at their curious offspring. Little bearded men held out minuscule beer mugs out to me, which I plucked between my thumb and pointer finger to taste. It was a sweet taste like strawberry cordial, and they streamed out of their hovels to procure me more of it as if sensing my satisfaction. Agreeable to me, I indulged and drank their tiny offerings with a healthy smack and twist of my beard. They seemed to celebrate my arrival, eating food laid out on long grass blades while I exulted a booming laugh in glee at their whimsy ways. Soon, it became dark, and forgetting my place I allowed myself to sleep a while.

"That's a thing." Says Fancy-Strelt, Bard of Kralta and protector of the tunes. Do we really need to make a half dozen victory posts; Arteh did a good job in the first one. It is getting arbitrary and memeish now, really just a reason to post that particular song.))