Roleplayer Guild - Forum Roleplaying Games - Advanced Roleplay http://roleplayerguild.com/ Strict, highly moderated roleplay with elevated standards. Advanced RP focuses on longer posts that include character development and coherent writing ability. en Sat, 18 May 2013 23:53:08 GMT vBulletin 60 http://roleplayerguild.com/images/misc/rss.png Roleplayer Guild - Forum Roleplaying Games - Advanced Roleplay http://roleplayerguild.com/ Twilight of The Gods: The End of All (IC Thread) http://roleplayerguild.com/showthread.php?205923-Twilight-of-The-Gods-The-End-of-All-(IC-Thread)&goto=newpost Wed, 15 May 2013 01:19:51 GMT Image: http://i1278.photobucket.com/albums/y517/TheDrakeKnight/2223CF5D-77B8-4F06-A6C2-00A680693D6A-198-00000009DC708F87_zpsa1090377.jpg ...

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In The Year 2017


War. A concept known by most men today, characterized by mass bloodshed and hysteria. It ravages the world as it encourages violent behavior to be employed whenever it accomplishes anything. The Great War started as an American problem, but it quickly escalated. In the 1990s an asteroid landed in Smallville, Kansas and was monitored by the CIA. They noticed that it had traces of genetic material in it. Their researchers told them that whatever was inside it, had world-shattering potential. All people in the area were secretly tagged by tracers that could find them anywhere on the planet. Years later one of Smallville's residents became publicly known as Superman, the government's agent Lex Luthor attempted to recruit him. But when that failed, the world peacekeeping task force known as SHIELD began a campaign to capture him. The last straw was when he accidentally destroyed their Helcarrier.
Tragedy. Hundreds of people died on that day, and hundreds more were recruited to hunt down and kill Superman. A prominent patriot was given the ultimate steroid to become the nation's greatest hope, Captain America. Captain America lead a team of special individuals on their mission to capture Superman. However they met resistance against an alien named General Zod, who lead a group of aliens against the US Government's attacks. When they were close to beating Captain America, they were captured by The Men in Black.
Vengeance. After hiding in the shadows and growing stronger for years, The Batman lead a team of men and women dedicated to preventing murders and capturing the evil and deceitful men in the world. He and his Batfamily formed an alliance with a team called The Knights in New York, who have a similar goal. Their members are a loosely organized team of street level vigilantes such as Spider-Man, Daredevil, and Iron Fist. The Fantastic Four is a team of scientists who have a mission to rid Earth of aliens, from NASA.
Retaliation. An army of deep sea warriors, lead by Aquaman, that hail from Atlantis have come to rule the surface world. They believe that this is the only way to calm the world's citizens. This has pleased the Dark God, Ares. With the war escalating his power is growing, but he himself is forced to fight when Wonder Woman brings him to the battlefield. Aquaman's forces clash against Wonder Woman's amazon sisterhood in effort to gain a proper foothold on the worldwide scale. The war has quickly incorporated more and more of the world, but all is not lost. Superman and his allies still stand for justice, they are surely not the only ones. But surely the most publicly watched.
]]> Advanced Roleplay nightrunner http://roleplayerguild.com/showthread.php?205923-Twilight-of-The-Gods-The-End-of-All-(IC-Thread) The Last Lady of Estasia http://roleplayerguild.com/showthread.php?205908-The-Last-Lady-of-Estasia&goto=newpost Tue, 14 May 2013 23:47:29 GMT
She had been there a week, sitting near her window and never speaking. Always watching the horizon. For what, no one could be entirely sure. The only way any of the other captives knew she was even alive was through daily visits from the maids. All they did was set some food down, which she had insisted on rationing out between all of them and refusing a larger portion, make sure she was breathing, and left. But they never examined her eyes, never looked inside to see that she was scared despite her watching. They were the eyes of a homesick and frightened girl, desperate to go home. The trick was planning an escape, and timing.

She knew her father would end up sending someone for her. There was no doubt about it. His heir, his daughter, his little girl? He would never give up on her. Unless they were miraculously able to rescue her from the terrible dragon, which she knew would be a challenge, she had to get herself and all of the other captives out of the tower and back to Starylhart. And that required watching and learning, something she always had a thirst for.

That fateful day that she had sat by that window, she saw something in the distance, heard something. Marching. Rescuers. That gave her a glimmer of hope. The distraction she needed. But she wasn’t the only one who heard it. Fraemer heard it too. The mighty dragon took flight, leaving his prisoners behind. They had half an hour at most.

She jumped up from her seat and gathered the rest of the captives to her room. Out the window she tossed a rope made of the shreds of her fine dresses and other fabrics she had found in the tower that could be spared. She lowered the weaker first, and herself last grabbing as many jewels as she could hold in a small bag that went over her shoulder. Twenty minutes for it all. Ten before the dragon returned. A ten minute head start to get under the cover of trees. She gave the order to run.

The running could only last but for so long, given the varying states of physical wellness and fitness between her fellow captives. Even Lady Maribel Bennett could only go for so long. Adrenaline helped keep her going for a little while longer, but the weight of her dress combined with the lack of running in her daily life took a toll on her. She had been tempted to stop at a stream they had passed a few minutes ago, but then her mind jumped to the thought that the dragon would look there first for them. Some of her guards advised against it as well, and all that combined drove her to continue the escape.

Her throat was raw and her lungs ached from all the running. Maribel cursed herself for not thinking to bring a skin for water. Yes, bring the jewels, but let yourself die of thirst. Stupid girl. The chastisement she was giving herself was evident on her face, and she didn’t want to ask the servants for any. They needed it just as much as she did, and they were smart enough to bring some. She thought of it as a reward to them now, for being smart and brave. That escape had been daring and terrifying. How they did it was beyond her.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of nothing but running, she found a covered area to stop and catch their breath. Maribel leaned on a tree, panting. After several minutes of this, she looked at her group. “Is this everyone? Did we leave anyone behind?” she wheezed. She really did need that water now. But she’d get it when they stopped for the night.

Her gaze moved from her companions to the bright blue skies to search for the dragon. By now, Fraener would be looking for them, and most like he was furious. The dragon would most likely kill everyone else, but keep her as a hostage, and make her life Hell. The ransom would be tripled, maybe even more, to the point where Duke Bennett would never be able to pay it off. The King would never loan him money for that. The Crown had far too much debt to pay as it was. Even if her father wanted to, he couldn’t send his bannermen after it simply because he had to deal with House Veristan along with the dragon.

Then she realized they had another problem on top of these problems: Maribel had no idea where they were. They seemed to be near a mountain, but which one? There were many mountains in Estasia. It could be any of them. They could be in Veristan territory, which would make Maribel an excellent hostage. And she had no idea how long it would take them to get back to Starylhart. Problem upon problem just seemed to arise.

“We can’t stay very long. We have to keep moving. But I wanted to stop and catch our breaths, and see if anyone knew where we are and think of some form of plan.” Maribel didn’t want to endanger her companions, but she hoped they would all be useful in their own special way. And that one of them had a sense of navigation. ]]> Advanced Roleplay Rose Swan http://roleplayerguild.com/showthread.php?205908-The-Last-Lady-of-Estasia Solace: Advanced Roleplay Group http://roleplayerguild.com/showthread.php?205866-Solace-Advanced-Roleplay-Group&goto=newpost Tue, 14 May 2013 18:22:59 GMT Looking for members for Solace: Advanced Roleplay Group (S:ARG)! Looking for people yearning for and willing to help create a stable RP group. ... Looking for members for Solace: Advanced Roleplay Group (S:ARG)!

Looking for people yearning for and willing to help create a stable RP group. Tired of RPs dying? Bummed about people not putting effort into maintaining their RPs, or their own characters? S:ARG is striving to create a place for you.

If you're interested, please CLICK HERE and read the basics then fill out the APPLICATION towards the bottom.

Now, are we looking for people who are ONLY interested in S:ARG, and who will promote S:ARG in their RPs and conversations and all that other good stuff? ABSOLUTELY!!!

But, if you're simply looking for consistency or willing to try to make a good place for your RPs to stay and seek advice, or even socialize, you're also welcomed.

Please note that this is not an elitist group, and we're not looking to hold our status or group membership over anyone, nor is this group something to join to utilize as a badge. Jerks, rude people, snobs, DBs and so on will not be invited. If one sneaks through, they'll promptly be removed.

This concept is new, this group is constantly shifting. Come help make this what it should be.

SARG Admin ]]> Advanced Roleplay SARGAdmin http://roleplayerguild.com/showthread.php?205866-Solace-Advanced-Roleplay-Group <![CDATA[The Road [ IC ]]]> http://roleplayerguild.com/showthread.php?205850-The-Road-IC&goto=newpost Tue, 14 May 2013 15:08:50 GMT


"Dad?" The boy asked, under the faint light of his bedroom, dwarfed within the grand space and high hung ceiling, a faint breeze emitting from his open paned window.

"Yeah, son?" The father replied, his body half out of the room and into the sheer darkness of the hall, only the same light flickering off of his clean shaven face, his gaze soft and tiresome.

"What do you and mommy do?"

"Your mom looks after you, you know that." The father replied with a slight huff, a smile moving its way across his distinct, almost hidden features.

"I know, but what does she do?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like, you go everyday then come back. Why doesn’t mommy?" The boy looked at his thumbs, playing with them and seemingly doing anything to avoid his fathers gaze.

"Cause I go to my job. Looking after you is your mom’s job. Do you get it?"

"I think so. What’s your job?"

"I’m a doctor."

"What do you do?"

"I help people."

"Does mommy help people?"

"She helps me us."

"Huh. Dad?" The boys voice lifted slightly, his eyes moving now to those of his father.

"Yeah, son?" His father replied with a gentle smile, his hand reaching for the welcomed warm of the metallic door handle, his eyes and mind beginning to wonder and fade this late evening.

"What can I be when I grow up?"

"You can be anything you want son, you can be anything you want."


A whirl of ash tickled down the hairs of his jaw, causing him to wrinkle his nose, shaking like a dog. With each step wearing away at the constant grumble radiating from their stomachs, the father and son drudged through the grey blanket of almost unending ash, dragging the wobbly wheeled cart behind them, their bodies encased within the near suffocating confines of their think winter coats. It was the middle of July. The constant click and rattle of the carts wheels did its best to keep the two wanderers aware of each passing second, each more dreary than the last. The once lush, expansive woodland that surrounded them on all sides, stretching for miles upon miles, was now nothing but an ash stained graveyard of falling trees, and random outbursts of unending flames. But still, they were welcome when the nights got too cold.

The man shot a brief look at his son, whom walked beside him, helping the man pull the cart through the thick dredge of ash. He looked thin, his eyes almost sunken; it had been two days since they had exhausted the last of their food, two days on the road with nothing but the sheer and unending desire for food to urge them onwards. There was nothing left where they came from; scavengers had bled the place dry over the years, and if they stayed much longer, they'd have ended up as food for someone else. They didn't even have a gun, nothing but a few bottles of murky water, a tent which did little to hold back the flood of rain which was constantly returning, and the clothes on their back. They wouldn't last the week.

He'd sometimes wished that it had taken him, the ravenous cold, or the fierce rain. He wished that he, or his son, didn't have to wonder this wasteland, where the Earths very blood now gushed in the form of a sickly grey coat. But those thoughts were always expelled to the back of his mind when the hunger returned. That's all there was now; hunger, and the constant worry, or rather, welcome, of death. This wasn't the life he wished for his son, or his father wished for him. Yet here they were, heading south along the roads, which were slowly being taken back by nature a little more each day. He just wanted to rest; he was tired of the journey, tired of the struggle, and more importantly, tired of the guilt; the guild he felt for bringing his son into this world, the guilt he felt for his wife, the guilt he felt for the things he had done in this desolate new world. It had all built up upon his shoulders until he felt as though the weight of it all would crush him.

"If I remember, there's a town not far from here," The father spoke, breaking the silence that had lasted for far too long, each trying to focus on anything but the hunger. "We could take a look. We'd need to hide the cart, but there might be shelter, clothes... food." His voice was muttered, forcing itself out in a croaky rasp. He couldn't count how many times he'd made the promise of food, only for it to be thrown back at him by the cruel hand of God; each day, there was less and less, and cannibalism only grew, something the father and son would die before resorting too. That was sounding more and more like option, instead of a last resort.

Leaving a trail behind them, the two continued onwards, the droplets of ash coming down around them, as the Earth continued to die.
 ]]> Advanced Roleplay UnfunnyPete http://roleplayerguild.com/showthread.php?205850-The-Road-IC Endless Eight http://roleplayerguild.com/showthread.php?205837-Endless-Eight&goto=newpost Tue, 14 May 2013 10:16:54 GMT 8:00 A.M It was early for the first day of the holidays; few people were awake, still curled up in sleeping bags dreaming away. Few were awake and... 8:00 A.M

It was early for the first day of the holidays; few people were awake, still curled up in sleeping bags dreaming away. Few were awake and two of those few stood at the top of the main stairway, a great showcase of architecture. It was one of the first things one saw when walking into the school, it was somewhat oversized made to show off some sort of grandeur. The gigantic thing was cut from white stone flecked with greys and blacks, rather plain really despite its size and placement. It was the first thing you laid eyes upon when entering the school and walking down the hallway.

Anise Johnson stood at the top, laughing her high pitched laugh, brushing back her red hair as her painted lips continued to move, speaking words her companion could not register. Her voice carried through the deserted halls, high and near shrieking as she continued to laugh.

Anise Johnson wasn’t nice.
She was one of the most opinionated people at the school. She would tell everyone what she thought and many followed what she preached, if she didn’t like you no one liked you. She enjoyed playing God, wielding her power for whatever purposes she wanted, she was drunk off of it.

Anise Johnson believed herself to be untouchable.
The tall woman continued to speak, voice breaking, her words crushing what was left of her target’s patience. He just couldn’t take it, any moment he was sure he would pop like a bright balloon that had been struck with a needle. The woman pushed her target back, words ringing in his ears “You’re a freak, you know that?”
“Shut up!” Anise stared, baffled at her usual cooperative target spoke up, and defied her. “Oh, so you finally got some balls?” She shrieked as she pushed against the boy’s chest once more, laughing high and mighty as she continued to assault. “Just, shut up!” Time seemed to slow as he finally fought back after so many years. The woman staggered back, foot catching on the edge of the first step. He pushed again, Time breaking, snapping as she fell back with mouth agape.

Anise Johnson was a bully.
A crash echoed through the halls as her body struck the stairs, limply rolling down to lay still at the bottom. Blood pooled around her head, looking like red ink that ran from her fiery hair.

Anise Johnson was dead.

8:15 A.M

The man, no, boy who had broken Time stood stuttering unable to comprehend what had just happened. He ran, heart thumping in his chest as he retreated to the room where all those ignorant to the events unfolding slept soundly. Quietly he sunk into a sleeping bag, shivering as he laid there, eyes shut tight to block out the crumpling world around him.

What have I done?

10:00 A.M

The room was lively, former students chattered and made plans for the holidays amongst their comrades. The sun came through the windows, warming and lighting all within the confines of the building. It was a cheery atmosphere but also loud which caused Sara Abellan another one of her headaches. She took deep breathes, glad to know that she would soon return to her home to sit down in a nice quiet room where she could sip ice tea in peace.
The chit-chat continued, laughter filling the otherwise empty school as everyone packed up. Sara had not wanted to do the sleep over, she had wanted to head home as soon as the ceremony was over but as the vice president she wasn’t given that freedom. No, she had to stay and supervise her peers.
It had been a nuisance but a task she had to do, it was her responsibility and now it was nearly over!

A girl screamed.
It was an ear splitting scream, one created from pure fear.
Without thoughts or words Sara moved, running along the halls – something she normally didn’t dare do but that scream wasn’t the sort of thing one heard every day, exceptions were to be made.

She stood at the top of the main stairway, staring down at the sight that greeted her. A group of students gathered around a crumpled, limb body with fiery hair that lay in a pool of a deeper crimson. People whispered and gaped but it was all drowned out by the one who had previously screamed who now stood crying, making pitiful noises as she held her tear streaked face in her hands, whole body rocking with the overwhelming emotions. Sara walked slowly down the stairs, eyes unable to keep off the body of the girl with red hair.

Anise Johnson, a notorious student who Sara had never been friends or on good terms with but even she wouldn’t of wished this on her peer.
“S-s-s-she’s dead”

She took several deep breathes, knowing full well she would need to be the voice of calm reason. She couldn't afford to freak out or let her shock of the situation overtake her. “Did anyone see what happened?” The murmurs answered her question, all some version of “No”. She took a deep breath, reaching into her pocket to grab her cellphone. She took it out and began to dial until the realization dawned on her, she had no reception.
“Does anyone have a working phone?” She called over the still forming crowd and the chatter, grabbing the attention of as many students as she could. All began bringing out phones of varying styles and ages, when each looked up their mouths were wide open and their eyes seemed to scream varying emotions from surprised to even scared.
All of them answered at different times but it was still a unanimous answer like before.
“I can’t get service!”
“Mine isn’t working, what the hell?”
The whispers and quiet chatter of before turned into a roar, people began to scream and yell. It was a mob scene.

The first day of summer was going to be long and stressful for Sara Abellan.
The first day of summer was never going to end. ]]> Advanced Roleplay Sayu http://roleplayerguild.com/showthread.php?205837-Endless-Eight Hogwarts: Defense Club http://roleplayerguild.com/showthread.php?205681-Hogwarts-Defense-Club&goto=newpost Mon, 13 May 2013 02:49:32 GMT Image: http://i.imgur.com/Ke5jIE1.jpg?1 _Chapter One: The Thirteenth Meeting_ It was the beginning of Autumn at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft...


Chapter One: The Thirteenth Meeting

It was the beginning of Autumn at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, which meant a slight nip in the air and extra layers to be worn in the dungeons during Potions. Dinner had just ended in the Great Hall and students were scattered throughout the castle with various tasks at hand or assignments to finish before the next morning. The student body was a buzz with the prospect of a Quidditch match over the weekend between Gryffindor and Slytherin. Friday classes were still in order for the next day, so dreams of the weekend would have to remain dreams for one more day of what would most likely be a difficult and complicated end to the week. A majority of the school was still on the ground floor, enjoying the last few days of sunshine that were left before the creeping chill took its hold over the landscape. It would be dark shortly and before long students would be required to retire to their dormitories before it crept into the later hours of the evening.

"Four down, three across..." Eli whispered lightly to himself, walking down a hallway across from the third floor Hospital Wing.

The seventh year Hufflepuff was counting stained glass panels along the top edge of the hall while keeping an eye on the carved gargoyles below. He had overheard one of the paintings near the Astronomy tower about a secret passage that led from the the third floor down to the empty classroom that led to the Defense Club. From what he could understand from the painting of the nymphs' suggestions was that a tapestry four stained glass panels and three gargoyles across the archway had a quick passage that very few students cared to pay attention to. Eli observed the hanging cloth artwork that depicted a forest scene complete with several deer and a horklump in the background- the tapestry was entirely unremarkable and he had never thought to look behind it on his way by over the years.

"Seems like the right one." He muttered to himself and pulled a corner of the cloth back to reveal an entirely blank wall without a single doorway that he had been hoping for. He knew the nymphs had also told him to 'make sure to knock' but he had simply thought that they were talking about courtesy.

Three sharp knocks resonated down the hall that was void of any other witches or wizards. There was a moment of disappointment when he assumed that the painting had sent him on a wild goose chase for their own amusement when the floor dropped out beneath the Hufflepuff. A trap door panel in the rough stone floor fell away beneath Eli's feet after the knock, which led to the shorter-than-average boy to let out a surprised shriek of terror before vanishing from view. Seconds later, on the ground floor of the West Wing, Eli came crashing down from a hold in an alcove of the hallway's ceiling and landed in a crumpled heap next to a group of terrified Ravenclaws at the sudden appearance of the older student.

"Don't listen to the nymphs on the sixth floor. Bloody tricky ones." He sighed without even looking up from laying on the ground.

At least he was a few minutes early for the Defense Club and only a few doors away. All in all, it wasn't an unsuccessful exploration. ]]> Advanced Roleplay Betelgeuse http://roleplayerguild.com/showthread.php?205681-Hogwarts-Defense-Club The Chosens of Mystal IC (Draw RP experimental) http://roleplayerguild.com/showthread.php?205585-The-Chosens-of-Mystal-IC-(Draw-RP-experimental)&goto=newpost Sun, 12 May 2013 15:24:34 GMT OOC LINK (http://roleplayerguild.com/showthread.php?204100-The-Chosens-of-Mystal-%28Draw-RP-experimental%29) It was time. It was time for the... OOC LINK

It was time.

It was time for the ceremony to be held. Far up in the mountain range, the village of Mystal once again grew silent with the coming of the Dark Clouds. The birds, once so gay and merry in their thrilling, now carry a haunting note in their songs, the trees murmured and swished without the presence of wind, and the hunters returned to the safety of the wall, aware of something observing them from the forests shadow. A miasma of evil had curtained the land once more, and though many did not know, or chose not to, deep inside the know it to be true.

But the villagers managed to go about their daily lives as usual, for the Ceremony is as much a symbol of Hope as it was Despair. For those Chosens last year, carvings and offerings had been made, prayers to their well being regardless of where they are. And for the Chosens this year, they are allowed to take any equipment they need, and make their final good bye. Once in the ruined circle around the Portal, they would announce their names, and as one, step into the portal.

]]> Advanced Roleplay GreenGoat http://roleplayerguild.com/showthread.php?205585-The-Chosens-of-Mystal-IC-(Draw-RP-experimental) Sun Never Sets (Steampunk Victorian/Fictional World NRP-IC) http://roleplayerguild.com/showthread.php?205446-Sun-Never-Sets-(Steampunk-Victorian-Fictional-World-NRP-IC)&goto=newpost Sat, 11 May 2013 07:03:33 GMT Act 1: The Republic Is Marching On Death is nothing, but to live defeated and inglorious is to die daily. -Napoleon Bonaparte Image:...
Act 1: The Republic Is Marching On

Death is nothing, but to live defeated and inglorious is to die daily.
-Napoleon Bonaparte
Collab by Serpentine8, Wernher and The Captain


17 years ago...
Late Autumn 936AA On the fields of Ponemagique. Where it all was going to end. Thirty three years it took... Thirty three years worth of sacrifices for nothing. Sabino lamented silently as everything came crashing down. Sabino looked over the battlefield and he knew his long campaign was at an end. He promised the Continental Republic a victory at the beginning of their impossible war... Now he knew he was not going to be able to keep it. The armies of the Coalition outnumbered him six to one with yet more imperials coming. Even his usual advantage of superior quantity of cannons was no more. The Tiberian Republican Fusiliers and Grenadiers of the first army that had already been engaged were being pushed back towards where the Republican Guard and Sabino himself was located, the Republican-ESK flank would also soon fall. With that damn bastard Melissanides betraying democracy, not even Sabino's backup plan was viable. Bringing back from his hopeless brooding, Marshal Boliver approached on horse back. "Lord-Protector, Our reinforcements from the capital... They are not coming. The Senate has already surrendered and given your title over to Helicon" the man said with a resigned face just as the rest of the commanders wore. Now even the republic had betrayed democracy Sabino thought.

"The royalists will be arriving at this battle in the event we actually defeat Crown Prince Karl then"? Sabino asked. The marshal nodded solemnly.
"Alexander will be leading the charge himself... They will be here shortly". This was it then. Sabino knew he was fighting an unwinnable battle. Even if the Cornadians at his flank (which had arrived from their camp in time to witness the retreat of the first army) proved to continue their seemingly untarnished reputation of victory today, even if he once again performed another 'miracle' for the republic and win the battle... They have lost this war.

"Boliver, we have lost this war. I need you to follow through with the instructions I put forward in the event of my defeat. Move to Cromwell. Send the excess you can't take or don't need to the communists in Zakat. Make sure my fellow Sabino brethren don't try and install a monarchy in what little our republic has left... Do not allow our sacrifice to be in vain". Sabino stated as if reading off his will.

"Lord-Protector, we can sti---" Sabino suddenly glared at the Marshal and putting up his hand as a sign of silence.

"Marshal, I am not going to flee this battle. I have failed Tiberia too greatly to do so. Perhaps martyrdom will absolve me of my failures to Tiberia and liberty, perhaps history may remember me as something else than a coward". Though the Marshal looked like he was going to protest further accepted what was a near certain fate and turned to leave.

"Long live the republic Lord-Protector, I will see you in Zaic's realm" The marshal said upon finally parting ways, leaving the battle entirely to continue the revolution even after the deaths of Sabino and the Republic.

"Now then.... The Cornadians..." Sabino muttered to himself as he saw a Cornadian officer dismount and approach him, obviously sending word from General MacHugh.

~~~

Republican Army Flank, Cornadian Foreign Army... Moments before the final clash
The camp was emptied. The soldiers of Cornade, as soon as the missives had been received, filed out to the earthwork-lined perimeter to the disharmonic chorus of shouting officers and signal horns. Despite the energy of last night, and all the cocksure machismo of those eager Cornadian souls, today's atmosphere was entirely different. Many had woken up to the reality of the whole situation; to the truth that more than a few of them weren't going to be making out of this scrape alive. Rumblings of defeat and total withdrawal had filtered down the chain of command despite the eerie calm that many in the Cornadian upper echelons had maintained. They were entirely committed, funnily enough. They had millions back home rooting for them, and perhaps that was why. Rooting for the dawn of a new day under the republican world that so many writers and politicians had waxed on over on the pulpit, in the novel, or in the legislative assembly.

Besides, Cornade didn't raise no cowards. They were a different, stronger breed than these northern monarchist bastards, or so General MacHugh had told them the night before in a heartfelt, brutally honest, and brutally irreverent address to all the assembled companies. And, even despite the grim tidings from the returning scouts and bushwhackers, his words had stuck with many of them. No one had deserted. Not yet. No one had decided to call the war off. Even despite the full knowledge that this may be some grisly last stand to be romanticized by future generations, the Cornadians had stuck with it. They assembled at stoic attention, under the dim gray pall of that overcast morning, out facing the field that, presumably, they'd be fighting and dying on later.

Solid blocks of blue and gray uniforms, worn by men and women of so many different colors and creeds, standing shoulder to shoulder as far as one could see in either direction. That's what Major General Machugh rode out to, once he and his staff had been informed that all forces were assembled and prepared. They, MacHugh and his closest officers and advisors, proceeded out on horseback, coiling around the right flank of those assembled forces to ride down the line and perform a cursory survey of the troops. Even despite himself and his reputation as an undefeatable, iron-willed bastard, he couldn't help but feel the weight of the impending defeat crushing down onto his shoulders, and he looked all the grimmer for it.

He and his command group came to a halt before the heart of their line, and he drew his saber from the sheath affixed to his saddle. He looked left and right at those assembled ranks of Cornadians, and then yelled out, "Zaic damn those crown-loving sons of bitches, am I right?!"

"Zaic damn them, sir!" A roaring wave of assent came back his way, and more than a few of those assembled soldiers grinned, despite themselves.

MacHugh took a moment. He was gathering his thoughts. He couldn't send them off without giving them a few more words first. His horse canted side to side underneath him, shifting and ambling restlessly. Then, he said, "Our scouts, and Sabino's scouts, they tell us that we're outnumbered six to one. Six. To one. Pretty damned alarming, now isn't that?" He looked them over again, and was pleased enough when none of them quailed at that number. None of them moved to agree. "Well," he continued, "here's a little secret I'll let you in on, boys and girls. They forgot that every Cornadian I have out here, whether it be with a rifle, a pike, or a saber, is worth at least five of those soft tools over across the way!" He turned, his horse wheeling under him, and pointed with his gleaming blade across no-man's-land, to where the enemy was presumably waiting. He turned back to his troops, and then finished off strong, "Take that into account! Now, for all you who know arithmetic, consider that we also have these Tiberians on our left over there, ready to help us out. I say the odds are even, or, hell, in our favor! So don't for a Zaic damned second think that this is hopeless! Don't you cower! Don't you stop shooting! I will personally drag you forward into the enemy line myself if you even think about it! We're going to give them hell, and we're going to show them the big mistake they're making, fighting for one man at the top! We'll show them how the working man gets his hands dirty! We'll show them how liberating a bayonet in the gut can be, when a free man's wielding it!"

At the height of his speech, the army forces broke into elated cheering and yelling. They took off their caps and waved them, they jabbed their blades and guns into the air. And, as they did, McHugh grinned and turned to one of his staff and shouted, "Send the word to Sabino! I think they're ready to go."


~~~

Central Republican Army, Sabino's Republican Guard
With Marshal Boliver gone, and with the news that the Cornadian Army was fully prepared to fight to the end, Sabino turned back to the battle. This was going to be his final stand he thought. He had his horse move from the command area towards where the men were preparing for the Imperial advance. If he was going to become a martyr so that in the future, perhaps centuries from now, the world will be liberated... He was going to going to go out in blazing glory. A battle that will not soon be forgotten.

"Men! Soldiers of our most GLORIOUS REPUBLIC!" Sabino yelled, believing perhaps a speech now would motivate the men to fight a battle they knew they could not win. "Today and no other day in the history of Halvalla has the worlds future hinged on one battle! This is the battle we have all known would come. Victory in this battle will mean the absolute liberation of the world! If we break the tyrants here, the republic of virtue, our free world awaits..." Sabino then brought his horse to the front of the infantry, who started to march upon hearing trumpets and drums beginning to play. "There can be no defeat today! The enslavement of humanity ENDS HERE, ON THIS DAY!!" Sabino then draw his sword in the most dramatic way possible, encouraging his troops with whatever theatrics he could. "Brothers! Zaic's truth shall always march on! By his righteous light, long live the revolution!" He shouted, ending his speech.

"Long live the revolution!" the soldiers shouted in unison. The soldiers marched forward seemingly fearless. The line infantry under Sabino's personal command were coming to reinforce the retreating republican soldiers who now upon seeing their revolutionary leader coming himself were already reforming again. A final push to end the Sabinoist Wars once and for all, the combined strength of Sabino's own Republican Guard and Cornade's army on the flank would have to make the decisive blow, now. After marching for some time, the two opposing armies were nearing firing range, they could hear each other's music now.

The cannons were exchanging fire and launching dirt and body parts into the air. Suddenly, when the lines finally reached firing range of each other, the music and even cannons stopped. A great ominous wind blew past, and the tension amongst the men could almost be felt. In a massed clutter of sounds, the infantry brought done their muskets to form an unbroken wall of guns. The drummers begun playing again. "FIRE!" was shouted by officers before the sound was quickly drowned in the wave of musket fire. Whole lines of enemies dropped, before being reformed by more men. Once the smoke started to clear, the opposing infantry brought down their muskets to aim at the Republicans. In that instant, one thought passed through the Republicans minds.

"We are all going to die". The Republicans were then pelted with the furious counter attack. The Tiberian Army held fast, returning another volley into the royalists. Sabino was taking in the battle in depth, his thoughts and calculations working at incredible levels, desperation driving him on to think of some genius tactic to give them a victory in this battle. Before giving up completely, a great wave of inspiration came upon him. He had found it, a way to victory, just like that. Sabino grinned and was given a new burst of hope on his realization. He would reinforce the rapidly collapsing ESK flank, and then order them to retreat in a purposely disorganized manner. He knew that the Coalition would fall for it. The Coalition already knew the ESK lines were collapsing and that the ESK soldiers were hardly as loyal to the cause as Tiberia's or Cornade's. Yes... It would work. The Coalition was also confidant in their numerical superiority. They WOULD send forces to crush the ESK flank and then come around in a pincer. Sabino looked towards the battle at where he supposed Karl was. Once they did that... Sabino would charge his soldiers directly down the central line, capturing the coalitions leaders and cutting off the head of the snake. With Karl and Salduador out of the picture, Sabino would break the royalists and deal with the isolated Tiberian royalist army after. Sabino begun laughing at this new chance, a path that would lead to victory for democracy.

"Karl... I wi-" Sabino's announcement of victory was cut short and the triumphant smirk wiped off his face in an instant as a shot from a royalist cannon fired directly towards him, blasting a hole directly beside where his horse was located. It was like some malicious force of fate or chance had decided that of all the place's a poorly aimed cannon shell could land, it was right upon the leader of the enemies entire nation. Sabino was launched off his horse by the blast wave and a bloody mist filled the air as the bloodied gore of Sabino's guards and aides was scattered from the blast. By some twisted miracle, Sabino survived... To watch as his entire army panicked witnessing their great leader being struck down. Through the pain(Unaware of how badly he was injured) and the disorientation, Sabino cursed inwardly at Zaic and his own twisted fortune.

Though the effects were not immediate, Sabino knew that this would cost him dearly. Before more guards arrived doubtfully hoping to find him alive, the soldiers would now already begin hesitating. He would not be able to continue commanding in his condition and many will think he is already dead. And now the course of the battle and perhaps fate of the world was decided by a single cannon ball.

With no great leader to guide them, the Republican army slowly lost its morale and fighting ability. As the overwhelming numbers of the coalition overcame and isolated parts of the army, segments surrendered or routed from the battle, further launching the Republican Army into disarray was the arrival of the Tiberian Royalist Army, its appearance in battle behind the Republican ESK caused the entire flank to fall once and for all. To the other flank, the Cornadian's were finally beset by the true force of the Imperial Coalition, and those brave souls would continue the fight long after most of the army had already fallen...

~~~

Republican Army Flank, Cornadian Foreign Army... The end has come.
MacHugh struck a match, and it flared up, a little pinprick of gentle orange light against the gray and brown backdrop of the smoke and mud choked hell that the battlefield had become. He brought the match up to the end of the cigar he held firmly between his lips, and it caught, and he inhaled deeply, sucking in the aromatic fumes. For all the whizzing of rounds all about him and his men, and for all the screams of the wounded, the dying, and those about to become one of the two, he was eerily calm. He was entirely unshaken. And so too, were those last brave few who had rallied around him. The Cornadian lines had collapsed under the sheer weight of the Imperial Coalition's numbers, and so now they drew back to hastily dug earthworks and prepared to repel the eventual final advance of the enemy.

They were now almost entirely surrounded, and an orderly, safe retreat had become an impossible. Any movement, lateral or backwards, would simply expose them to the brutality of Imperial gunfire. Any movement forward would be tantamount to suicide. And so, they waited, with what artillery they were still in possession of, and exchanged ineffectual fire back and forth. All of Cornade's supposed superiority on the field of battle, and for all the gung-ho crowd-rousing theatrics MacHugh had shown had back before the bloody business had begun, had amounted to little. The battle was all but decided. All the doom and gloom amongst the Tiberians that Machugh had mocked so eagerly days before was finally catching up to him and his men.

He may as well accept that fact that he'd been beaten with a sort of Cornadian dignity, though. He'd give those crown-loving sons of bitches a fight to remember before he had his men prop up that white flag.

Already the staccato crackle of the revolving guns, emplaced on high ground, at the heart of the Cornadian redoubt, filled the air. Darts of fiery, lead death weaved back and forth across the field. Surely, the devastation they can, and already had, wreaked on those traditional line-fighting Imperial forces would give them pause about making that final push. Those and the few field artillery pieces, a motley assortment of cannons and mortars, kept the enemy at bay while the troops braced themselves. They were out there, though, vaguely visible beyond the haze of gun smoke. They were waiting for the order, or maybe they were in disarray out there. MacHugh couldn't be sure from where he stood. The whiplash crack of the bushwhacker long rifles, which had been employed with deadly effect against enemy officers and flanks already, continued to reach his ears even despite the constant roar of the big guns just up the hill from him.

Then there also came the sounding of horns. Drummers drumming. Fifers fifing. That was it. There they came, right into the line of fire. They could afford it though, with all those damn soldiers they had.

"Sir," a lieutenant called, marching over in tattered uniform and throwing up a haphazard salute, "The Imperial forces are on the move."

"That they are. I've got ears too son," he muttered back, "Give the order to be ready. Coordinate fire on a squad level. Fight until I say otherwise," he marched over and clapped a hand on the young commissioned officer's shoulder, "There's no turning back now. You make sure they understand that."

The lieutenant, though clearly shaken by what he supposed was imminent death for him and his comrades, nodded, and saluted again. "Yes, sir," he mumbled, before turning to rush off and distribute the order to make ready.

And so, as the monarchist armies descended upon them, the soldiers of Cornade unleashed a stubborn, furious hell onto them. Fear was swiftly replaced with fury, and a resignation to what they supposed were their fates. Mumblings of defeatism and fear were spontaneously, from end to end, replaced by a low murmur of another kind. Somewhere in the formation, some folk had begun to sing, and it spread like patriotic wildfire. It could be heard even over the roar of gunfire and the screaming of those who were victim to it. A final cry of defiance from the soldiers of Cornade.

"Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord .."

Enemy artillery brought forth its own equal vengeance upon them.

"He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored .."

Revolving guns jammed. Whole stacks of cannonballs were depleted.

"He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword .. His truth is marching on!"

The enemy was in a full advance, aiming to assault the Cornadian fortifications and end the fight. Volley after volley from the stubborn, zeal-filled defenders felled rank after rank of charging foe, but it was not enough, and soon the fight came to such means as blade and bayonet and pike. The first line was soon to fall, but the will of those defenders did not falter. The second line continued its volleys even as the first was beleagured and swamped by masses of gaudily uniformed enemy troops. And so the first rank was forced into retreat, and then the second, and line by line they were pushed back or defeated, with the line behind them providing deadly and furious fusillades to stymie the tide of enemy forces.

All the while, they screamed that furious hymn to Zaic.

"Glory, glory, hallelujah! Glory, glory, hallelujah! Glory, glory, hallelujah! His truth is marching on!"

By the end of it, MacHugh had the white flag flown. The defense was as stubborn as could be, but he knew it was doomed to failure.

He would not waste the lives of his men just to make a statement. At least some of them had to come home.


~~~

A few days later...

The sea was in storm. It had been 3 days since the Coalition troops had won the battle, although vast parts of Sabino's armies had surrendered, a core of loyal veteran had fought to the last men in the battle, the few survivors being those to gravely wounded to continue fighting. Sabino had been captured, tried and then executed to be buried in an unmarked grave so no future republican may use his grave as a shrine... Such was the official word at least. In the cabin, only Crown Prince Karl and some of his loyal guards around a man tied to a chair, an execution hood on his head. A guard removed the hood, revealing the face of Sabino. He had been taken care of by Karl's personal doctors, he didn't want him to die either, not now, not before a very long time.

Karl walked to him. Sabino was looking toward the outside, only a feint light visibly in the distance. As he came from behind him, Karl waited for a moment before proceeding with slow steps, turning around Sabino to be in front of him. "I'm probably a bad Avonian for what I'm about to do... You know what I'm about to do. This is the Island of No man's Rock and it will host you, for the remainder of your life on this earth before you are to be judged by Zaic."

Again, more silence. "... You tried to overthrow the order of things, caused the death of countless men, noble to commoner, among them my own brother on the battlefield and another that couldn't survive your Tiberian winter. You ruined countless nations, your own included and the scars of this war will still be seen for generations, the echoes of its cannons will be in the hearts and the minds of the people for centuries. What says you!?" Sabino stared at what seemed to be nothing, almost aimlessly. Quietly muttered "I did what had to be done".

Karl didn't reply immediately, in many ways, he had expected more. "And you failed, your plans were thwarted and monarchy lives on. Please, as if it ever came close to death, you led your people like an emperor and I'll be the first to admit that your 'Senate' made our job far more easier than it would've been. You can't trust a million people with no idea of what they're doing and each with conflicting ideologies to actually make good decisions if make one at all. Democracy is a weakness to both the country and its people and in times, people will come to realize this... I will leave you to your thoughts and when the storm clears out, we will land. Enjoy this chair, it shall be the most comfortable thing you will experience for the remainder of your life time. Guards." The men circled around Sabino and gagged him so he may not bite out his own tongue and kill himself.


~~~

Current time, No Man's Rock Dungeon

A loud 'CLUNG' was heard throughout the prison as the door to this facility's now only prisoner opened. A tall blond figure dressed of white appeared. "My, my, my... the legends are true. Good day, you may not know of me, but I know of you, Sabino..." Serclaes took a few steps toward what used to be a man. The figure was anorexic, scared, its face was caste in iron so no one may look properly at it. "Yes, good day, I am Alexander Serclaes, Hochbachen Citizen, industrialist, business man, count, patron of the arts and science and all around philanthropist, or so I'm told." Visibly, Serclaes couldn't hold his excitation of encountering a man such as Sabino, his gloved hands twisting around. "I was told they sometimes do what I am about to do, on the new year generally, the Imperial Post's year in review. I own that journal now, you know? And countless others, but I must admit it is my finest, even if the Daily Press sells more, which I own too, funny... Cat's got your tongue? Haha, oh no, the torturer got it, I remember now."

Serclaes took a sit on a small bench in the cell. Sabino, chained to the wall, didn't bother turning his head, but Serclaes knew he was still there, inside his mind. He opened his journal. "On the first page of course, news of the happy couple that is Prince Karl Junior and Princess Veronica De Astra of Veluca. I even got an invitation, haha. Haaaa, there will always be this charm of knights and princesses to royalty, that I think even you must admit. We could argue it is more charming even than freedom, 'tis why you were defeated after all. Other than that, Waldeck and Muler are at it again, some fear parties of the extreme right leaving the conservative coalition could threaten Waldeck's hold of the parliament." He had a smirk while turning the page. "Some of us, of course, know better. I'm sure even your republic had its good old 'invisible hand' around, no?"

Serclaes went through the paper. Finance, Serclaes marches on, international news in Cromwell sending another diplomatic insult to the ICA's office in Chaleroi, General Armquist laughing in public about it, miscellaneous events and sports, giving particular attention on the polo teams of Praven and Tour University that faced themselves, the Tiberians winning only by a few points at the end of the match. 'To be fair, it was the home team, very little crowd for Hochbach in Tiberia these days, Basil really invested his money well in that team. You know of Basil?'. A few hours went by as Serclaes closed on the comics in the journal, placing the journal in front of Sabino so he may see the characters in funny little situations, a banging came on the door, it was time.

Serclaes bowed slightly toward Sabino, a mocking smirk on his face. "You know, I have great admiration for you and what you were trying to achieve. It is noble on paper, buuut then again, I tend to agree with the consensus of the world's strong men by saying that the populace can't be trusted in thinking on the long term and do what must be done, rather than what is easy... At least it's my opinion, can you believe 12 years after the republican menace is defeated Hochbach would become a, haha, constitutional monarchy? Funny, now Hochbach is more democratic than Tiberia is today! Helicon with his iron fist, Aurelius and his parties. Ever heard of prince Aurelius? Oh he would have been such a tool for propaganda, If there is something closer to the out of touch noble image of monarchy, it must be him... You know, I don't even know why they keep you here, what good could you do anyways. Cromwell's an island with no hope, Cornade moved on and prefers to export stuff and get money rather than... export democracy and get an ass kicking, hahaha! ...Yes, we should probably just let you go..." The door opened and Serclaes slowly moved to it, leaving the journal in the cell. "...We should..." As the door was closing behind Serclaes, he stopped it and looked back for but a moment. "But not today... 'Lord protector'". The door slammed shut. ]]> Advanced Roleplay Serpentine8 http://roleplayerguild.com/showthread.php?205446-Sun-Never-Sets-(Steampunk-Victorian-Fictional-World-NRP-IC) <![CDATA[Allaria: Chapter 2 - Hunt for the Emperor Dragon! [IC]]]> http://roleplayerguild.com/showthread.php?205409-Allaria-Chapter-2-Hunt-for-the-Emperor-Dragon!-IC&goto=newpost Fri, 10 May 2013 23:41:20 GMT Image: http://i42.tinypic.com/2006yvs.png Feyerlun Sea The Tides The sky was dark gray with clouds, streaks of lightening illuminated the...


Feyerlun Sea
The Tides

The sky was dark gray with clouds, streaks of lightening illuminated the dreary sky, as the ship made it’s journey from mainland out to the Feyerlun Island. Ship hands anxiously worked to keep the ship on its current path, instead of allowing the God’s to take it for their own and cast it about on the rocks of the shore. They knew, as foretold by the breaking line in the horizon, that landfall was due in an hour, and that their passengers would be off for the evening and that the next day they would be heading out across the sea again to their next stop - somewhere near the Gate. The captain, Russo, stood at the helm and watched over the inhabitants of his great ship, unfazed by the impending weather, nor the passengers that took refuge upon his ship. His grip on the helm tightened as the rain began to fall - his men’s focus gaining a renewed vigor as the deck started to glisten with water.

Among the ship’s passengers, who for the most part, were below deck, tending to their own business or to the need of the ships. For instance, Bak’Kar had found her way to the kitchen, and for the majority of the trip had remained there, finding what she could to cook a meal for the men above. Another passenger, Jashta, had seldom been seen since she joined the number on the ship. Having boarded alone and with little equipment to speak of, her outward personality put a lot of people off from her. She seemed to be a bit ungracious in the head, causing the rest of the crew and passengers to keep an eye on her whenever she was in the room, and breathe a sigh of relief when she was out of sight. Many hoped she would be among the first to depart the ship, and many hoped still that she was not one of the ones that would continue with them to Baldur’s Gate. It seemed fruitless for her to be with them, she was crazy, and they all knew it.

Captain Russo looked out upon his men an gave them the call to get into gear, land was in an hour, the rain would pick up before then. The men gave their normal affirmative call, and went back to work. Russo never wore a Captain’s Hat, nor did he wear anything more than what his crew normally did. He felt that there was nothing needed to denote him as Captain - people simply fall in place behind him.

“Taker her in, boys.”


One Hour Later


“And with a swoop of my blade the dragon finally fell to it’s doom! High within upon the hills of the Kyut Forest! By my blade, and by my power, I have did what our God has asked of me! I have sent him to another plane and have become his True Chosen Son!”

The Ship had pulled up to harbor, and many of the riders were stepping out when the spectacle reached their ears. A strange man wearing a glistening golden armor was on his knees, his arms spread, as though he were preaching to the masses. The theatrics of the man were amusing, and could captivate even a crying baby - but there was more to it than that. Something about the man just oozed charisma, just oozed the ‘It Factor’.

“Me and my family, my friends, my followers, the Sons of the Feyerlun Emperor, now stand atop the mountain and praise the name of our Lord, who fell upon sword and blessed me, blessed us - with his blood!”

At that point everyone behind him that was aligned with the man, dropped to their knees and spread their arms - speaking in organized mumbles that seemed to be some type of prayer. As they continued, the man stood and addressed the crowd, particularly those who were departing the ship.

“From his flesh I was granting these scales, these almighty scales of our Emperor! With this armor, I am his faithful servant and those who are now behind me - are his faithful followers! We sit upon the cusp of greatness and those of you who do not believe, we harbor no ill-will towards. Instead, we open our arms to those of you who have been affected by the lack of a Godly presence of late. We offer unto you, a chance to join the Sons, and become something bigger than yourselves!”

His voice boomed out and raced through the ears and minds of those who heard him. The prayer behind him got louder, more intense, and it seemed that those who uttered it were under some sort of trance.

“Unlike those cretins who say that the God’s will once return to use, I give unto you a God that has not yet abandoned us in spirt and mind. I give unto you a God that is there and will always be there - unchained by the Apotheoses, and still thriving with all its unbridled power. You ask yourself, did he not just say he killed the Emperor Dragon? Is it not now wearing the flesh of the very one he says is always there! But I say unto you now, and I say this from the bottom of a bottomless heart! What he lacks in physical appearance, he makes up for - more than makes up for, in living through all of those who believe.”

His hands raised in the air, and the rest of the Sons rose to their feet. The man, their leader, Tiberius Salazar, bowed graciously, and made his way towards the outskirts of town.

Another man, who was in the crowd, gave out a small call. It sounded like the call of Fauna Peacock. This was deliberate, as those who had accepted the town’s call to find the Emperor Dragon, dead or alive - had been informed to listen out for that particular call while at the harbor. The same man, leash in hand, began heading towards a small warehouse on the harbor - accompanied by the Twin-Headed Dog at the end of the leash.

The harbor, itself, was quite large and outfitted with several places for boats and even more warehouses. Many people, most accustom to the way of living by an ocean, went on about their business, though mumbling about the Tiberius Spectacle they just witnessed. There were several shops, many selling varying types of sea creatures and vegetables, as well as clothing and jewelry. Wealthy types frequented the harbor for little trinkets, but they also attracted some of the unsavory types. The man with the twin headed dog, Vairoz, walked past many of these people and was greeted warmly - giving one final look back before entering the warehouse. Once inside, he snapped his fingers and it seemed to come alive - his magic causing candles to become aflame, and water to fill several goblets on a sizeable, round wooden table. It was there he waited.
]]> Advanced Roleplay Rilla http://roleplayerguild.com/showthread.php?205409-Allaria-Chapter-2-Hunt-for-the-Emperor-Dragon!-IC <![CDATA[CANES BELLI (Cyberpunk World RPG) [OPEN TO JOIN: SEE OOC]]]> http://roleplayerguild.com/showthread.php?205359-CANES-BELLI-(Cyberpunk-World-RPG)-OPEN-TO-JOIN-SEE-OOC&goto=newpost Fri, 10 May 2013 16:15:56 GMT *_CANES BELLI _* *MODERATION POST* -- (NOTE: These posts are used for story development purposes. They are used in RESPONSE to what your character...
CANES BELLI

MODERATION POST
-- (NOTE: These posts are used for story development purposes. They are used in RESPONSE to what your character does, as opposed to being used to make your character RESPOND. Moderation Posts will put your characters into the limelight, into interaction with prominent NPCS, or into danger -- but what exactly happens to them is up to them, until another MODERATION MARK takes place. Here we go!)


NEO-CHICAGO // Old Chicago District

Chicago, once an illustrious metropolitan city that encompassed a huge swathe of the state of Illinois, had long fallen into ruin. Legitimate businesses had long fled and only those with the highest of moral character .. or the lowest, still remained. Neo-Chicago was home to the highest murder rate, drug overdose and illegal firearm use in the United States, it's yearly rape rate was second only to Greater Shanghai, in the People's Republic of China. Neo-Chicago was split into three primary districts, though where one ended and another began seemed defined only on a map. Old Chicago was run down and miscreants often wandered the streets even in day time hours. A heavy haze set at her ceiling where the old and decadent buildings now seemingly threatened to fall from the sky. The Chicago Police Force (CPF) as a law enforcement agency meant they could operate Air Turbines, cars that were propelled forward with experimental turbine engines. A lone police cruiser fluttered a few stories off the ground down one of Old Chicago's main avenues, the few people loitering on the stoop of a nearby warehouse slowly dispersed as it came near. A heavy rain beat down that seemed to carry it's own pulse alongside the city. Three days in and no signs of stopping. The city itself seemed to be slowing down, dying. Not all was drab though -- some of these warehouses held glamorous night parties and raves the likes of which hadn't been seen by more conservative eyes in decades. Heavy drug use had skyrocketed employment in the sectors of burglar and prostitute and if you had a few Pieces (Paper Currency, used only in black market circles) or Chips (Electronic Currency, Universal for all Governments) even you could find yourself on the merry-go-round for the night. One such lady stood under a nearby advertisement sign, it's sheer size gave her temporary comfort from the rain.

" 'ey honey, come'ere, " she mused, to no one in particular but her voice carried to the half dozen passing her along the side walk. One man briefly stopped, looked over his shoulder and decided to continue on. These individuals were all inconspicuous, but one: he was too inconspicuous. His head down and a sullen poncho across his shoulders with the hood draped up, he seemed a little too eager to go unnoticed. He turned just before the corner, climbed two steps and knocked twice on the huge steel door. The shutter opened. The veiled man briefly flashed a handful of Pieces, the door slowly opened and the man stepped into another world. Le Fête des Guerriers was the hottest weekly party in Old Chicago and only those privy to any kind of illegitimate wealth were ever invited. Close to a thousand party goers sloshed back in forth in a wild mess of flesh, alcohol and pharmaceutical grade drugs. Some were there for a good time, some there for a better time, and a few suspect individuals that lurked in the less illuminated areas of the warehouse seemed more interested in business -- whatever that meant! The hooded individual seemed to navigate himself rather effortlessly through the crowd with a distinct goal in mind. He descended some stairs with the droning of the music to his rear. A few more ambitious party goers here were lurking about, tasting flesh and putting their intoxicants to good use. He pulled the hood back, revealed stark white hair and shoved several Pieces into a fidgeting man's hand.

" He's here, " the white haired man inquired.

" Is it a h-h-he? Maybe it's a s-s-she! Haahaha! " Vector was in no mood and took a half step forward, but the threat was more than enough. The fidgeting man, homeless by the looks of the rags that sat across his form hurriedly nodded. " He's h-here! Third floor, h-h-h-he's at the bar! "

Before Vector could ask any more questions, the man had loped through the crowd and disappeared into the sea of people. He was here. Months of searching had led him here, to some dingy warehouse at the bottom of the barrel in the shittiest city in the country, and Gemini was here.

NEO-CHICAGO
OPERATOR 15 -- Gemini. Male | APERTURE: Skin Shading | LOCATION: Last seen in Neo Chicago. No Concrete Visual Identification. Use Thermal Imaging Software to find KYMIRA ID CODE to engage. |
OPERATOR 33 -- Vector. Male | APERTURE: Electromagnetism | LOCATION: Last seen in Neo Chicago. Utilize PLASTIQUE and HYDRO LEVEL II Grade Weapons to engage target. |

MODERATION NOTE
-- After months of tracking, Vector has now located the Operator Gemini, who allegedly knows much more about Kymira than the other Operators.

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New Berlin

Unlike cities like Neo-Chicago and Neo-Tokyo, New Berlin was on the upswing. Triple decked as they called it, New Berlin's horizon broke the sky and was always on the way up -- as room to build out had quickly run out. The German Federation had quickly become an economic powerhouse as the Fauscher Heart was developed by a nationalized institute in 2049 and was quickly accepted as a legitimate low cost to improve one's life by 20 years and destroy heart disease once and for all. Making more than 150,000 dollars a year -- get a Fauscher Heart and live to be 130. The downside here was literally having to plug yourself into a wall socket when you went to bed to keep the heart's internal power supply from depleting. Secondly, deaths did not dramatically decrease as large amounts of people still died from failing to properly charge their Fauscher Hearts after extended use. Still, the cure to heart disease and a complete denial to the international community to give away it's precious secrets made Berlin the medical capital of the world. Air Turbines had matched terrestrial automobiles at a 1:2 ratio, crime was down and the city's pulse was strong. The German Federation had doubled it's police force in the last ten years to ensure crime was kept down -- and it was, Topside (The two top levels where major businesses and residential areas exist. Rockbottom, the floor was more slummy) had a minimal crime rate. Opera's, dinners, piano recital's and gravball* games (This game replaced football in 2091 where artificial gravity generators made sports games entirely four dimensional) all were the norm. This night, the very cusp of New Year's Eve had Topside in an absolute out roar, but not all was quiet.

Sirens wailed and lights flashed, Air Turbines jolted out of the way of the high speed chase. " This is Unit 42, in pursuit of possible Operator, over. " Back up came quickly. Another Air Turbine joined the chase, right behind the suspect's vehicle. The cobalt hued Air Turbine was unmarked but civilian and officer alike saw it as a Operative's vehicle of choice. The Operative's were highly trained, lone wolf agents of the Kymira Security Bureau who's only duty was to hunt down the escapees from the Greenland Incident. A huge government debate was whether they were sporting biological enhancement. Technological enhancement was the norm. Fauscher Hearts, eyegear, robotic limbs -- but heavy legislation against biological enhancement had started in the 2080's and shut down most of the ongoing experiments. Operative's seemed to move a little quicker and think a little faster than the average citizen and a huge conspiracy movement had formed behind the idea that Operatives were no better than the Operators.

From a nearby rooftop, a dainty figure sat kneeling at the very edge of the building. She pressed two fingers to her temple and the rotating ocular device across her right eye zoomed in on the action. Dust had long heard the rumors of a group of Operators meeting in New Berlin. Sort things out kind of shit. This poor fellow had been figured out too quick, only hours before the supposed meeting. Maybe he could shake them, she'd watch and see.

The chase ended only seconds later, the suspect's Air Turbine ran through another air lane and clipped a hauler. The thrashed vehicle went into a spin and it's wreckage landed atop a nearby roof. The police Air Turbines circled like vultures while the Kymira vehicle quickly set down a few feet away. The door opened and a slim, tall figure stepped out. He wore a body glove, an onyx colored suit that accentuated his muscled form and at the same time gave him a sleek appearance. He was bald and sported modified eye wear, the scarlet lens zoomed in and out -- sizing up the target. The burning wreckage flailed as the man pulled himself out of the remnants of the vehicle, heaving. When the operative appeared to identify the Operator, he feigned a frown.

" I thought we killed you in Libya, " he chuckled.

" Shut the fuck up. You want it? Come on! " The man, his hair as red as his temper -- urged the Operative on with a cold stair. Blood stained his pant legs and dribbled from his mouth. The Operative pressed a small grey square that sat just across his chin.

" Operative 71, Operator identified. Operator 6. Alias Leech. Aperture Absorption. " Nearly before the Operative had finished, Phoenix rushed him. The fist fight was clearly two titans amongst mortals. By now several police units had landed but as they climbed from their vehicles they realized how outmatched they were. Leech, biologically enhanced and trained to be faster, stronger and smarter than anyone else in the room was fighting as if his life depended on it (it did). The Operative seemed rather apathetic in his movements and seemed to stay in the fight because of intelligent -- rather than quick or strong -- attacks. A series of fast punches had the Operative reeling. He fell backward but Leech did not stop. He sent a kick straight to the man's chest and the Operative tumbled to the very edge of the building. The police moved in, their attacks from all angles initially caught Phoenix by surprise but he was quick to catch on. He caught one of them batons mid flight, ripped it from his hands and struck a man in the chest. He hip tossed another and the fight seemed awfully one sided, until he grabbed one of the police officers and bit into his arm. The man fell limp within seconds.

" No, stop him! " A voice shouted, it was the Operative. He came barreling in and attempted to pry the Operator away from the man, but as the second ticked the police officer began to simply shrivel away in his own skin. The Operative dug into a small component on his belt, bit the lid off and stabbed the miniature device into Leech's neck. Leech's titan like hold on the man gave way and he backed away. Seconds before Leech had appeared normal, but having somewhat fed he was noticeably denser, his muscles more defined. He turned and attempted to run but his feet were unresponsive. He fell and loped for a moment before falling unconscious. The Operative pressed the small button ingrained onto the side of his cheek once again.

" Operative 71. Operator 6 has been captured. Detainment in process "

Dust disengaged her ocular's just as another approached from behind her. Operator 3, Siegfried.

" What's our next move, " he asked.

MODERATION NOTE
-- Dust and Siegfried, only having recently met up in New Berlin, are aware of a meeting of a dozen Operators who all escaped together. Dust has the location, an upper level casino called Fox and the Tail located Topside.
-- However, they just witnessed another Operator hunted down and captured as well.

OPERATOR 01 -- Maelstrom. Female | APERTURE: Angel Dust | LOCATION: Last seen in New Berlin. Psychological Profile UNSTABLE. Do not speak with suspect. |
OPERATOR 03 --Siegfried. Male | APERTURE: Hypersynaptic Accelerators. Armorweave | LOCATION: Last seen in New Berlin. Engage at MINIMUM RANGE of 300 METERS. Do not Engage unless assisted by
OPERATOR 07 -- Dust. Female | APERTURE: Flash Stepping | LOCATION: Last seen in New Berlin. Dangerous. Advise Caution. Employ ShockTech for Takedown. | ]]> Advanced Roleplay LilTheo http://roleplayerguild.com/showthread.php?205359-CANES-BELLI-(Cyberpunk-World-RPG)-OPEN-TO-JOIN-SEE-OOC <![CDATA[Blue Skies IC [Pokemon RP]]]> http://roleplayerguild.com/showthread.php?205324-Blue-Skies-IC-Pokemon-RP&goto=newpost Fri, 10 May 2013 05:35:46 GMT Cross your heart... The orange islands were always lively this time of year, boats arrived at the docks with excited tourists, while trainers...
Cross your heart...


The orange islands were always lively this time of year, boats arrived at the docks with excited tourists, while trainers and coordinators from all around would come to participate in the orange league, competitions or simply to enjoy the scenery as they hopped from island to island. The weather was lovely, sunny yet windy at the same time. The smell of the ocean lingered all throughout the island while fluffy clouds were strewn across the azure sky. Almost as if they were splotches of white paint on a plain blue canvas. The pokecenter stood near a dusty road a kilometer or two away from the seashore. It was usually a busy place but it was quite early and so far everything was peaceful. Trainers walked about inside conversing or asking a nurse joy to give their pokemon a checkup.

Rai on the other had had decided to go outside and venture around the tall grass. Flame was on her shoulder peering around curiously and enjoying the nice breeze that smelled of saltwater. "Hey, squirt," the girl grinned from ear to ear as she continue walking aimlessly in search of something of interest. "Are you excited for the orange league. We're gonna need to try harder y'know." She mumbled as she crouched down in the grass. If she were shorter she would have been completely hidden but half her head stuck out and her eyes flitted around in search of some new pokemon.

"Cynda," Flame being the lazy pokemon he was answered in a voice that lacked both enthusiasm or concern. He simply held onto his trainer's neck tighter and peered through the grass. Eventually he hopped off her shoulder and onto the ground. The Cyndaquil ventured on its own and disappeared into the thick grass.

"Pfft, you really should sound more enthusiastic." The girl snickered a little then stayed as motionless as she possibly could until something slammed into her back and sent her falling forward. Before she knew it she was sprawled on the ground with her cheek pressed up against a leaf. "What the heck?" She mumbled beneath her breath as she prepared to push herself up and spin around to greet whoever had slammed into her. "Piiiika! Piikachu!" She relaxed when she heard Spark's familiar call. The Pikachu just loved roughhousing and always hyped for anything. She figured he had finished his meal and had left the air-conditioned pokecenter for the outdoors he just couldn't live without. "Spark," Rai hissed playfully as she pushed herself up and staggered to her feet. "Are the others resting up?"

The pikachu bobbed its head in respone. "Chuuu!" Spark complained as he gave Rai an expression that revealed he was utterly bored.

"No wonder you came out." She turned her head to look at the grassier side of the lawn but she couldn't pinpoint where Flame was. "Flamey, c'mon out. Spark decided to tag along." She heard a rustling sound and watched as the Cyndaquil made its way towards them. It gave the pikachu a wave and in response Spark gave a silly looking salute. The two stared at each other and exchanged words Rai would never manage to understand. Eventually they stared at her and began moving towards her slowly...in a sinister fashion.

"Yikes," Rai stuck out her tongue at them in teasing manner then decided to start backing away because really she would need a head start. The two pokemon pounced and soon enough three of them were lying on the grass. Flame curled up on the girl's stomach and Spark was tucked beneath her arm by her side. They looked content that way and that made the trainer feel content as well. She smiled to herself then stared up at the blue sky that promised happy things...and then a wisp of purple danced across her vision and a childlike voice, the same voice that had plagued her dreams for countless nights sang eerily, from within the depths of her mind.

Cross your heart, hope to die, stick a needle in your eye. Cross your heart for me.


Rai's grip on both her pokemon tightened and she stared emptily at the same sky above. The girl absentmindedly brought a hand to her chest and drew an x, hoping to silence the strange voice. ]]> Advanced Roleplay Fox of Spades http://roleplayerguild.com/showthread.php?205324-Blue-Skies-IC-Pokemon-RP Reimagining of Evangelion (IC) http://roleplayerguild.com/showthread.php?205170-Reimagining-of-Evangelion-(IC)&goto=newpost Thu, 09 May 2013 09:38:26 GMT April 10th 2015 - NERV Headquarters - Tokyo-3 - 7:05pm

“All hands to battle stations!”. The strong voice of the sub-commander echoed within the command centre where the operators worked. An Angel had appeared for the first time to fight mankind. Sachiel was its name and looked like a spindly, amphibious humanoid being that had the height of a building, roughly. Its proportions mean it’s rather lanky, with long arms and no proper neck, since its head protrudes from its what-would-be the chest.

“It has been decided that we are to use the Evangelion!”. The United Nations had tried blowing the objective up with one of their N2 land mines, but they had failed. At least, the Angel was stopped as it needed regeneration. Mankind would them have to resort to their last option; the Evangelion: a large humanoid robot which was to be piloted by people with certain prerequisites. A weapon that was theoretically capable of fighting –and beating- the Angels. “Is none of the children here, yet?” The question showed the stress that was taking over the whole staff at NERV. This was literally a matter of life and death, and if they could not get to fight their enemy right away, they would be in danger.

“Jin is getting ready! Unit 00 will be prepared for launch in 250 seconds!”. The “Second Child”. As informed by the Marduk Institute, he was one of the special pilots that would control an Evangelion, commonly referred simply as “Eva”. He had been conducting simulation tests when the Angel was detected. Like he, others would arrive, who had the skills to pilot the Evas and defend mankind against their new enemies; the Angels. They truly were, along with NERV staff, their race’s last hopes.

Suddenly, the whole building trembled. The city was being attacked by the Angel, and so strong were its strikes that even NERV Headquarters, conveniently located underground in sizeable GeoFront, trembled. This only made everyone in there more aware of the fact they had to make things faster, or they would not have a chance of surviving.

_________________


April 10th 2015 - Aeroplane over Tokyo-3 – 7:03pm

“Estimate time of arrival is 7:22pm. After we make it to the ground, you will have to board a material transporting train which will take you directly to NERV’s headquarters. Make sure to read this on your way there. Will make for a more interesting trip”. The cheeky smile of the NERV representative did not make Alexandra feel better at all. This was serious. She was only 13 and they expected her to protect mankind, at some point? Talk about silly… An alarm went off inside the plane, which lightly startled her. “What’s wrong?!”. She had never been scared of planes, but the situation was different, and since the plane was rather small, it vibrated more with the air, giving a false sensation of insecurity.

“We have spotted an unknown being. Switching on all alert systems. Word from HQ is…” the pilot started explaining, but he stopped as if he was interrupted by something. “Pattern Blue! It’s an Angel!”. Alexandra did not fully understand. Wasn’t an Angel, theoretically speaking, a force of good? But everyone seemed clearly upset about the whole situation. “Look here” the NERV representative signalled her to move to the other side of the plane, where, looking through a window, she was able to see Sachiel, wreaking havoc upon the city. “What on Earth is that?!” her question was justified, yet difficult to answer. “It is what you can see. We do not know much more than you do. We call them Angels”. Eyes wide open, cold sweat running through the girl’s temples. Were those the enemies she would have to fight?

“I’m afraid… we can not land the plane in this situation. But we can not just leave you here either. They need you down there, just in case”. That made sense, but how, then, they would expect her to reach the headquarters? Landing outside of the city and travelling there by train? That was probably impossible, since it would make sense for trains to be out of order, at that point in time. No way for her to get to NERV, then? “In this situation, there is only one thing you can do”. As the man said this, he handed Alexandra a backpack. “You’re kidding me, right?” the girl’s face was like an open book. It was clear she knew what that meant.

“You need to jump from the plane. Open your parachute after ten seconds, and no later than that. Use the ropes on either side to guide yourself and avoid any building and you should have no problem. Once you take the ground, just find a way to the station. Remember you have a map with you…” The girl, the third child, looked at the man with disbelief. “Wasn’t I supposed to be important for NERV?! And now you’re dropping me mid-air with this THING running wild!! I can’t believe it!!”

“We understand, Alexandra. But there is no other way. If we remain here in the air, it’s only a matter of time before we are hit. We need to bet on your survival that way. I am positive you will be alright.” That did not make sense. Or rather, it made sense but she did not want to accept it. It was clearly the most dangerous situation of her life, yet she could do nothing to avoid it. Seconds passed, and the side of the plane opened. She felt the air entering. “Put this on. The air would be too strong for your eyes”. Of course, goggles to protect her eyes. She smacked her own forehead. How could she forget? If she had jumped without that, probably she could not have been able to keep her eyes open, and the result would have been obvious. “C’mon, go!”.

Alexandra tip-toed to the edge of the plane, with the backpack already attached in a way which meant it would not come out unless she released some heavy locks –she would have to do that at the ground, of course– and did exactly what she should have never done: looking down. She felt her world going down. She took a deep breath… “I’m afraid of heights!!!”. As if this was her battle cry, she leapt, and closed her eyes, mentally counting up… and opening the parachute a second earlier than she was meant to. She would not take the risk to open it after counting up to ten… just in case she was too slow to count. ]]> Advanced Roleplay Hedya http://roleplayerguild.com/showthread.php?205170-Reimagining-of-Evangelion-(IC) Spirit Panic! (Fantasy/Social RP) http://roleplayerguild.com/showthread.php?205078-Spirit-Panic!-(Fantasy-Social-RP)&goto=newpost Wed, 08 May 2013 17:55:01 GMT OOC Thread (http://roleplayerguild.com/showthread.php?202593-Spirit-Panic!-OOC) The halls were empty, devoid of any sign of life down their...
OOC Thread



The halls were empty, devoid of any sign of life down their long reaches. The only noise came from Acesto, as he slowly patrolled through the corridors, his soft footsteps barely making an echo. His right hand gently glided across the walls, only stopping to examine what was behind the next shoji door. Sliding open this door, Acesto peered inside. It was another simple bedroom, adorned with a rather old fashioned Japanese style. This entire mansion fit that bill. From the wooden floor and white screen doors, to the walkway with a view of an enclosed garden, complete with a pond of koi fish. In this day and age a house such as this was quite anachronistic. Ace found the style oddly nostalgic. He figured it was in his genes, as he himself was Japanese. This place clashed with the modern designs seen of the norm, and it was rather refreshing. He didn't know when it started, but some time ago most houses started to be made with a clear glass like material. This 'glass' was popular because it was near indestructible, flexible, and could be dimmed for privacy's sake. 'Those who live in glass houses... Can throw all the stones they wish!' He was getting tired of hearing that in commercials all the time.

Sliding the door closed he turned to head back to the room where everyone else was. Right as the door hit the wall with a close he felt a sudden chill crawl up his spine like a frozen spider. It made him shiver and turn around with a start. "...Great." He let out an amused sigh and continued on his way. This was certainly an interesting assignment the club had been given. They had been told this mansion was haunted, and seeing as they were the only local 'ghostbusters' they were sent to cleanse the place. The owner was staying in a hotel, meanwhile the club was allowed to stay at the mansion and make themselves at home.

Reaching the room where the rest of the club was, Ace took a deep breath. "I'm back." He said, taking a seat in a chair, which seemed to just be a cushion on the floor. "Vice-Principle Urameshi was right." He said, mentioning the woman that headed their operations. She was a rather eccentric young woman, nonchalant and endlessly charming. It was obvious she was given her position by her father, (the Principle of their school) However she proved herself to be a hard working individual. Ace shifted his legs, crossing them on the wide cushion. It was far more comfortable than it looked, though he was not accustomed to sitting this way. "This place is haunted, what's odd however is that I sensed an unusually high amount of spirits here, and of all different types. I think we should be careful, I have a feeling more than a few will be violent. We'll have to stick together here, in teams ideally, since this is a large mansion."

Reaching forward towards the table in the middle of the room, Ace spread out a map of the mansion left for them by the owner. "Right now we're in the entrance hall, to the left, where I just came from, is the West wing. It leads to a hall full of doors leading to many bedrooms, as well as the outdoor garden. To the right is the East wing, which also has bedrooms, though there are branching rooms which contain a washing room, and a store room. At the end of the hall is a large library apparently." Ace pondered the library for a moment, he had run out of books to read and wondered if the library here had anything interesting. Now, upstairs In the North room is the grand bedroom." Ace circled a large square room with his finger. "...It seems odd to build a second floor in the North wing solely for one room, though the upstairs West and East wing just contain more bedrooms." He shrugged off the large size of the bedroom as simply the owner being one for extravagance. Though what he couldn't shrug off was the ground level North room. According to the map there wasn't one, there wasn't even a door. However there must be something behind it, after all who in their right mind would simply waste so much space?

"...Any questions, before we set off?" ]]> Advanced Roleplay Piercing Light http://roleplayerguild.com/showthread.php?205078-Spirit-Panic!-(Fantasy-Social-RP) (IC) The Golden Key: A Tale Of Brunswick http://roleplayerguild.com/showthread.php?205032-(IC)-The-Golden-Key-A-Tale-Of-Brunswick&goto=newpost Wed, 08 May 2013 01:47:03 GMT Image: http://i1366.photobucket.com/albums/r768/GloriousTea/TGKATOB_BRED1_zpsc9cb2cd0.jpg Credit to Sety * GM: BUNNAY CO GM: SETY* Interest...

Credit to Sety
GM: BUNNAY
CO GM: SETY

Interest Check
OOC THREAD


THE MAP OF ASTORIA




"They have deprived you!" A deep, smooth voice roared over the crowds, "They have watched you suffer, while they sit comfortably in peace!" The gloomy fog hung low that evening, as the people of Zaeria looked on to the man before them. The crowd was a combination of starving citizens, covered in their own filth and blood. Horrifyingly wicked creatures, some mutated from the pollution and toxic condition of their environment. They cried back in response to his words, hatred dripping from their frothing mouths. Lit torches illuminated their faces, and the man himself held up a bright burning flame, the yellow light revealing his blue eyes and black, shoulder length hair. Roderick Vangeax was mounted high on his black steed, shining metal armor clad to his broad chest.

"But no longer...it is the end of their peace, and the beginning of the fight for yours! "A deafening roar of approval broke out as they cheered his words and he finally came to his final statement. "Tonight, is the night that Brunswick falls." With that he grasped the reigns of his horse and began to lead them away. They followed diligently like sheep, unbeknownst that that they had been fed lies. They served loyally under a dictator who rewarded them with an endless suffering. And no kind of war, won or not, would change that.



And so began the legend of the Golden Key.

--------------------

The pristine blue of the sapphires glimmered in the reflection of her mirror. She touched them with her fingertips, as they hung around her neck, as if trying to make out their shape. "Do you like them?" A voice suddenly asked, excited to hear a response. Evangeline let out a long sigh, turning to face her maid.

"He must really think he can buy his way into my heart," she replied, admittedly with a touch of annoyance, "like he owns me and we haven't even wed yet." Without missing a beat, she snatched the jewels from her throat and threw them down on the vanity desk. "Maybe he can buy my father's approval, but definitely not mine. "

"But you're set to be married...you've got to like something about him", the maid insisted, silently wishing that she could be so lucky. Her skin had now begun to wrinkle with age, and her once golden hair had now faded to an ashy blonde.

"I would rather die", the young woman hissed, her face red with anger and frustration. "I've got to get out of here! " She stood abruptly from her chair, and bolted for the door, gone in a flash.

"Evangeline!" The maid called after her, before inhaling deeply, "oh lord...the girl's run off again I'm afraid". And so she had, draping herself in a black hooded cloak that hid her identity. As she ran into the stables, she swiftly slipped into a pair of tall black riding boots, throwing her slippers to the hay. There was one guard sleeping beneath a cherry blossom tree, his mouth agape in his snoring slumber. He had probably swallowed his fair share of flies while "guarding" the royal stables. He was doing an even worse job making sure certain Princesses don't ride off into the distance, let alone preventing intruders.

Evangeline mounted an old brown horse, who'd seen at least twelve years in this world. She named him Julian, and he refused to let anyone ride him but Evangeline. She easily walked him from his stall, and in seconds, was riding away from the palace. The wind rushed against her face, forcing strands of her chocolate brown hair to come loose from the ribbon that held them in place, on the crown of her head. Her amber eyes were glowing a bright yellow, as she rode down the hill that lead into the nearest village. 'They want to make me a prisoner....' she thought to herself, 'who ever asked me if I wanted to become queen? Huh? Did anyone ever stop to think what I wanted? ' The more she thought, the angrier she became- the girl was too passionate to handle.

The skies began to grow heavy with grey clouds, a result of her emotion released directly through her connection to the elements. Nothing upset her more than the idea of living a life she hated. While her father lay sick on his deathbed, she was being made to give up her freedoms. And now, with the attack from the west, the people of Brunswick suffered. Streets were littered with glass and debri, children were slaughtered, women raped and beheaded, homes violated. Evangeline accepted that what she was mostly afraid of, was that she might not be a good Queen. What if she couldn't do the things her mother did? She doubted herself and paid for it in stress.

As she came into the village, she weaved in through the thick crowd of people, who were unaware that they were in the presence of a princess. Julian's hooves clicked on the cobblestone as she made her way through. Merchants were cleaning the messes, trying their best to recover from the raid. An elderly woman stood, her arm outstretched with a shiny red apple, but not one villager stopped to buy from her. Evangeline jumped down from her horse, coming to the woman's side, "Excuse me ma'am, are you selling these apples? "

The poor old woman smiled a toothless grin and nodded her head, "yes, my dear. Can I offer you one? " her trembling hand, outstretched with the apple, came towards her. Evangeline smiled, and took it. It was so shiny, she could almost make out her reflection.

"How much do I owe you then?"

"Not a single coin for a pretty girl", the woman replied, wisps of her white hair blowing in the wind. Evangeline thought this silly, and pulled a pouch from her cloak that jingled as she dropped it in the woman's hand.

"No kindness shall go unreturned" she said softly, before turning to walk away with the apple. The woman suddenly reached out and grasped her shoulder firmly, turning her back around.

"There is much danger ahead of you.." her raspy voice whispered, and Evangeline just then noticed her eyes were a pale blue. "Tread carefully, my dear, there are dark forces in the midst. " With that, she warily took a step backwards, accidentally knocking into a crate of soil, causing it to tumble over onto the ground. The merchant, a tall, grueling ogre, was quick to grab the girl by her wrist.

"Look what you've done! Can't you see we're trying to clean the mess, not create it!?" His grip on her arm tightened painfully, as she struggled to get free.

"I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean to...I was talking to this old woman, and-" as she turned to the spot where the woman was standing, she fell quiet with confusion, as she had vanished. Words escaped her.

"I see no elderly woman. You like to play games do ya!?", the ogre growled, reaching for the short sword at his waist, "I should take your hand for this!"

Evangeline's eyes widened in fear, and as such, it began to rain. "Please! Please sir, let me go! I can pay you! " she pleaded.

--------------

"Your Majesty! " a panicked voice came, as a short little dwarf came into the western wing, and burst through the doors of a vast library, books stacked a mile far and wide. He was out of breath, his hands on his knees as he struggled to get the words out.

King Arthur was sitting beside his advisor, discussing very important matters regarding the attack, and was slightly aggrivated by the disturbance. "Well what is it! Spit it out, Mergle."

"It's Evangeline..." he gasped, "she's gone off again! We...we tried to stop her but it's no use. The maid said she's upset about..." his eyes lingered nervously over Mr. Jack Macloud, and then back to the King.

"That damned girl just won't stay put," he fussed, coughing rather loudly as his face flushed with sickness. "Send out one of the knights, send someone to get her. I swear I will nail her to the floor, that girl. " He was clearly distressed, as he dabbed the sweat from his wrinkled forehead with a silk handkerchief. "We've just been attacked by Zaeria, the tomb has been raided, this kingdom is in chaos- it is NOT safe to be galivanting around!" His fist slammed on the hardwood table, a map spread out before them. "Bring me my daughter.." a sigh of disappointment slipped through his lips, and he wished that Evangeline was more like her sister, Gabrielle. More than that, he wished Eleanor was alive to give him a hand. They needed their mother.
]]> Advanced Roleplay Bunnay http://roleplayerguild.com/showthread.php?205032-(IC)-The-Golden-Key-A-Tale-Of-Brunswick Essence of the World http://roleplayerguild.com/showthread.php?205019-Essence-of-the-World&goto=newpost Tue, 07 May 2013 23:01:08 GMT Hazumi let out a silent sigh. Her black feathers reflected the pale moon’s glow above, as well as the streetlights down under. Under the stronger... Hazumi let out a silent sigh. Her black feathers reflected the pale moon’s glow above, as well as the streetlights down under. Under the stronger rays of the sun they could possibly get the colorful brilliance that raven feathers got, a playful game of green and blue… but she wouldn't know – it had been years since she’d last seen the sunlight… and years since it’s last seen her.

She was a creature of the dark and her sigh would be the only whisper the world catch of her existence. Right after her agile wings would carry her soundlessly to the target and her extendable, blade-like claws pass judgment. She was rarely heard, rarely seen, if not as an elusive herald of death.
It wasn’t a life she chose. It wasn’t a life she would choose. But it was her life.

Hazumi pushed herself off the edge of the building and didn’t bother spreading her wings out even though they would soften the bite of the cold air on her skin. She enjoyed the fresh gust stroking her face, almost gently, bringing forth a feel of peace and serenity before reality snapped back into place and hot blood-drops smeared her senses.

Her claws sank deep as her freefall was interrupted with a helpless crunching sound by a now lifeless body. Like a cat she now arched her back and spread her wings open to soften the impact on her own body as the other one turned to dust and united with the city air. Her toes gently touched the ground and she rose to her full height. Only then did she glance at the victim she didn’t truly care about – a scared, weeping girl in the corner of the alley. An empty gaze deprived of compassion or sympathy as her work here was already over.

Stepping back on the rooftop she closed her eyes and lifted her chin up high to inhale a breastfull of evening air. It was cool and fresh, with a hint of upcoming rain and a promise for morning dew. It felt real. Without opening her eyes she started slowly pacing along the edge letting her bare feet explore the concrete undisturbed by anything. The ground had still preserved some warmth from the long set sun and felt pleasantly alive against to her tough skin.

A sudden tingle ran up her spine, alerting her of something sharp cutting into her flesh. She couldn’t help but smirk at the sensation - it felt so real it made her whole and alive again.

Pain was a welcome guest, reminding her she still had something left in her, if only a physical something. Killing had long lost its challenge, if it ever had presented any - she couldn't remember. Emotions were even farther away, sent to some distant realm where she would actually need them.
Right here all she needed was her efficiency. There were no “orders”, no “reports”, no “interaction”, no beings that required her to “speak” or “feel”. All that was requested of her was disposing of certain elements.

It was all about killing. And she didn't object, why would she? She was created for this job and she was good at it.
Hazumi opened her eyes and sighing once again prepared to return to the world of duty.

Her breath escaped her as an unfelt waft carried a single snow-white feather her way. The angel extended her hand with disbelief, as the small fluff landed on her palm. Images flashed in front of her eyes, vivid and clear in their message. The Council was gathering.
As the feather turned to dust she pulled the glass shard out of her foot and collected her sandals, bewildered as to why she, the Motherslayer, was invited to such an important event. ]]> Advanced Roleplay Wind Wild http://roleplayerguild.com/showthread.php?205019-Essence-of-the-World