Roleplayer Guild - Forum Roleplaying Games

(Any questions, feel free to ask me or anyone that seems to know what they are doing. .)

OOC thread is up, click here to view and post at will.

This RP is modeled after the Wheel of Time series written by James Oliver Rigney, Jr (more famously known under the pen name Robert Jordan). It takes place in a Mirror World of the original. Like the other mirror worlds it is different from the “true world”, but is virtually the same except for a few choices, allowing the world a population instead of holding nothing. The characters from the series aren’t in this world, but you can play as what they are (ie: be the Dragon Reborn) or just make your own characters.
This is planned to be a different take on the struggle against the Shadow(or against the Light, depending on which side you take). While no one will start off as ta’veren, I may have someone become one to add a bit more fun to it.
As much as I’d like it to be one big group going through this, I also like the idea of multiple groups doing what they will instead of just a single one. So there will be a rough start, but it should get easier as things go on so bare with me. There will also be posts following to give some information on what there is in this world(large one, but it will not hold everything and there can be things made up) and a time line as to what has happened in this world.
Now, without further delay...

The Wheel of Time turns, and Ages come and pass, leaving memories that become legend. Legend fades to myth, and even myth is long forgotten when the Age that gave it birth comes again. In one Age, called the Third Age by some, an Age yet to come, an Age long past, a wind rose on the Dragon Mount. The wind was not a beginning. There are neither beginnings nor endings to the turning of the Wheel of Time. But it was a beginning…
The Dragon was failed to be reborn, Tigraine, the woman destined to be the Dragon Reborn’s mother was killed on the slopes of Dragon Mount, a pike pierced the womb. The Wheel of Time began to spin a different pattern, a pattern to try and still fight Tarmon Gai’don without its choice of a Dragon Reborn. The Pattern weaving lives to fit its needs, trying to prepare the world for what will come, for if the Dark One is loose on any Mirror World, he is loose on them all. The seals are weakening, some may already be broken so the Pattern can no longer be choosy.
And so here is where our story begins, the Wheel has chosen its new champions to fight the Shadow and keep the Dark One in his bore.

Rules:
1. No god-moding
2. No invincibility
3. No controlling another person’s character (well, one way to force them to talk, but I’ll be the judge on what they tell you if you manage to use Compulsion)
4. Keep OOC stuff to a minimum; there will be is a thread for that.
5. Fill out the sheet I have, it will let everyone know what you are playing.
6. Please, no one lining. Keep posts to a minimum of 5 sentences.
7. Cursing is allowed, but just don’t do it excessively and when its called for.
8. Try to keep the RP in the Mirror World, while yes you can go to the ‘True’ World, this is meant to be in this one.

__________________
Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers. I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch, for this night and all the nights to come.

((OOC: Do you think we should have some form of a list for the other players to know what other layers are playing? Wow thats alot of play.))

__________________
He who laughs last thinks slowest.
Change is inevitable except from a vending machine.
I just got lost in thought. It was unfamiliar territory.
Those who live by the sword... get shot by those who don't.
He's not dead... he's electroencephalographically challenged.
Honk if you love peace and quiet.
Nothing is foolproof to a sufficiently talented fool.
Light travels faster than sound. This is why some people appear bright until you hear them speak.

((OOC: And here is said list, updates randomly and without warning, but always with a purpose.))


Character List and Positions:

Aes Sedai:
Selina Farlon, Red Ajah. (Synara)
Aleza Tie'lan, Brown Ajah. (December 13)

Caemlyn Street Urchins
Javal Alyndan, Protector of Caemlyn Street Urchins, Male Channeler. (Masterqy1221)

Children of the Light
Laieth Kaior, Lord Captain Commander of the Children of the Light. (Dreadlord)
Tyrone Rugen, White Cloak Inquisitor. (Guru Gloin)

Dragonsworn:
Maudin Kadadi, Channeler. (Comandersnow)
Reigner Kadadi, Channeler. (Asha'man)

Darkfriend:
Paher Abodran, Channeler. (DirgeInferno)

Seanchan:
Arien Latar, Deathwatch Guard. (Izael Lightheart)

Undecided Loyalties
Rael Dai'nar, Sellsword. (Kindom Of Magick)

WolfBrother
Matthius al'Torschk, Moon Scar (Scambo)


Forsaken
Alive:
Ishamael (aka: Ba'alzamon)
Lanfear
Be'lal
Balthamel
Aginor
Not-so Alive (aka; Dead):
No dead...yet
N.O.O.B. (Not Out of Bore):
Demandred
Semirhage
Graendal
Sammael
Mesaana
Rahvin
Moghedien
Asmodean

__________________
Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers. I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch, for this night and all the nights to come.

Arien studied his map for what seemed like the tenth time in the hour. "I'm starting to regret not using those rodes, even if these oathbreakers knew what I was," Arien said in his slurred drawl. Upon leaving Falme in his quest to search out the other lands on this side of the ocean, he decided to stay off the main roads. Arien's mount, a torm given the name Alantin, would have attracted more notice then Arien wanted yet. Alantin being about the size of a horse, and looking like a cross-breed of a cat and a lizard, he has bronze scales, six-clawed, and three eyes. From the reactions he had seen in Falme, Alantin was definitely a creature these people had never seen before.
Arien had no idea as to where he actually was, his map guided him well enough, but moving between trees, underbrush, and all other sorts of things (even Alantin chasing down a strange looking deer) had put him off his course. He was supposed to be near the River Ariaelle, supposedly in the North-western corner of a country known as Andor, but since he should have seen this river two days ago, he doubted he was anywhere near the Ariaelle anymore. Though he can knows he's atleast within a tenday of where he should be, the so-called Mountains of Mist being a reference as to where he is.
Arien sighs as he rolls up his map again and deposits it back into its case and looks down at Alantin. "If we get anywhere close to a village, I'm going to ask for directions and you'll either have to look like a horse or stay behind." Hearing a throaty growl coming from below him, Arien figures Alantin's answer. "So then you can stay behind. Just don't try and eat any of their livestock, regardless of how delicious they look to you." Arien gives a pat to Alantin's head and starts sending his mount in a Southerly direction, he atleast thought it was south, the sun being at its zenith and the mountains being blocked by the canopy of the tree's blocking any sort of way of knowing his direction. Arien now just hoping to find anyone who knew their way so he could be on his.

__________________
Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers. I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch, for this night and all the nights to come.

Paher studied the hayloft he slept in for a few hours after he had woken, finally deciding to get up and leave when the sun got in his eyes, peeking out just below the roof. This place, Baerlon, wasn't very much a sight. Caemlyn had been so much more, even Far Madding was better. This place was, however, his temporary home. He would not be there long enough to really meet anyone. Not enough to meet anyone special. Light, this talk reminded him of Saria. Why. WHY did I leave my Saria? Light, Why?! Shaking himself out of these thoughts, Paher strolled down the streets, a casual 'Mornin' to people he had no idea who the were, or a slightly more formal 'Hello, how are you?' to merchants he'd bought and sold with. Soon enough he would start heading south on towards Ghealdan. Maybe he would find the Ablar man, in Ghealdan. The search for Taim was useless, he had found nothing but battle scars in Saldaea.
Paher noticed there was talk, from some outlanders. Some Domani men. They were talking of these strange people, with honey-colored skin, who spoke in ridiculous slurrs. Apperantly, these people had strange, horse-sized, lizard-like and cat-like mounts. And apperantly, they rode on the skies, with great beasts like great birds, but also like lizards. These men have had far too much to drink.
He walked about the town for a few hours, looking over the assortments of merchant's stands and what the peddler had today. After not very long, he started towards the road that would lead south. He was confronted here by a man who was convinced that he was late on a payment.
"You missed giving Roram the mark and five pennies you owe him for sleeping in his loft," said the man; a rather burly man, with sunken knuckles and a good amount of scars on his large arms.
"Well, I would pay it, but I rater need the money."
"That won't end well for you. Doesn't seem a peasant's kid like you would be able to handle that toy too well," the man muttered in his low voice, motioning to his sword.
"Toy? I can show you just how I can use this 'toy'."
With that, the man leaped at him, ready to swing his fist. Paher barely had time to manage the sword from the scabbard, but was easily able to dodge the slow man's attack. With a flourish, Paher sliced upwards on the mans arm - not a very deep cut, but it will slow him down. The man let out a small grunt, then leaped again at Paher. This was countered when he crouched down, and when the man was about to trample, stuck his hands out and flipped him behind his back, just before slicing, with another flourish, the man's hamstring. He didn't kill him, oh, no, but now he had to make no payment. The guards, however, were not too happy about this little outbreak. As they were advancing, Paher broke out into a full-on run, right past them and out the city.

__________________

Sa souvraya niende misain ye - I am lost in my own mind.
Sene sovya caba'donde ain dovienya - Luck is a horse to ride like any other.
Dovie'andi se tovya sagain - It is time to roll the dice.
!(/Dirge\)!

Maudin walked through the new city of Caemlyn pushing slightly through the crowd. It was a decently warm day and the crowd was still going about their morning business. Maudin was a imposing man, one you always respected or feared, though he did not always like that. He was just a man who channeled and was the brother to who they hoped was the true dragon reborn. Though that thought was still a surprise to maudin, he could think of himself as a simple ex-farmer now. Back then, farming was far from simple and the most important thing in the world, that was a long time ago.

Now Maudin walked through the streets with a small circle open around him and most of the people obviously avoiding him and looking at him. He was not sure exactly what it was that made people act around him. It may have been his clothes. Maudin wore a long black coat with the stiff collar and everything black besides, from tall black boots to the wide sword belt at his waist. Though it might just have been his sword. He wore a bastard sword on his back in a simple black sheath though the blade was nothing special it was technically power wrought.

Walking into the city proper Maudin looked around above the heads of the people around him. There were guards around plenty of them and the streets and buildings were clean. This new queen was good and she kept the city in order it was a nice place to be. infarct Maudin felt safe walking around for once, the whole of the place was well protected. Walking forward maudin had to side hop to get out of the way of a cart. Some of this people would run a man over instead of losing two seconds of time for a delivery.

Soon enough Maudin returned to the inn called the Queen's majesty. It was a old inn and one of the best at all in the city, Maudin and his brother were staying here for the moment while they gathered up their plans and formulated ways to fulfill the prophecy. Maudin was already sure enough about the whole born on the Slopes of Dragonmount thing, though it mentioned a maiden who had his brother. That part was a bit strange but it was just something to find out, the most important was to take the stone of tear from there they could actually do something and begin to prepare the world.

Walking through Maudin waved to the innkeeper and headed up the steps to the room they shared. Opening the door he wearily pulled a large book out of his pocket, it studied the prophecy of the dragon over and over and gave out various theory's about them, some of them might actually be useful. Taking of his sword Maudin laid down atop the bed and waited for his brother to eventually return to the little room they slept in. All things had to start of small and the journey of his brother had just begun.

__________________
GT: Comandersnow
Song of Ice and Fire/WOT=Best book series EVAR!

Fifteen horses were gathered on the grounds of the White Tower. Servants ran in and out of the Tower and the stables, gathering items forgotten by the Sisters and saddling the horses. Saddlebags hung on each horse, full to the brim in preparation for a long journey. Aes Sedai were beginning to gather by the horses; their journey was to Ghealdan, and its purpose was to capture the false dragon Logain Ablar. Selina stared down at the scene from a high window in the Tower for a moment, and then continued her descent. “Another false dragon!” she said, shaking her head, “If they continue to proclaim themselves at this pace, we will need more Red Sisters to gentle them.” Her companion nodded, but only said, “Be wary in Ghealdan, Selina.” The two met eyes for an instant, both faces ageless; Selina’s companion had dark hair and eyes to match it. After a moment, Selina said, “Do not worry after me, Taryla. Logain may be able to channel, but he is no match for a circle of thirteen.” Taryla simply nodded again. She worried every time Selina was sent after some male channeler who was marring the world, as Selina did when she was sent, save for the one time they were sent together. The two had been friends since their first days as novices, and remained friends as Sisters of the Red Ajah. As they arrived at a landing halfway to the bottom of the Tower, Taryla said, “Galina wishes to see me, sister. I hope your journey, and the battle at the end of it, go as smoothly as you think they will.” Abruptly, she smiled. “Few Reds so recently raised to the shawl have gentled two false dragons. Perhaps you will be a Sitter one day.” The two hugged and bid each other farewell, then Taryla walked through a large door of polished wood at the landing, and Selina continued to descend.

She was one of the last Sisters to arrive at the site where the horses were gathered on the Tower grounds. Ten Red Sisters already stood by their steeds, speaking amongst themselves and sharply eyeing the servants. Two more would come; there would be thirteen Reds in all. Aloof from the others, one Gray Sister who Selina did not know stood with her hand on her saddle, talking to her Warder. The tall man had strong shoulders and would be considered handsome by many women, but he was unwelcome among the Reds. Never before had Selina ridden to captured a man for gentling with a Warder, but she would have to tolerate one now. Apparently, Logain’s army was large enough that the Tower deemed negotiations a possibility, and the Gray would not leave her Warder behind. Selina’s gaze was torn from the man by the words, “Now that all have arrived, we will set forth for the docks. A ship called The Rapids awaits us; it will take us to Aringall with haste, and from there we will ride to Ghealdan.” The speaker was Veladra Sedai, a short blonde woman who was in charge of the journey. Selina’s only reaction to the words was to climb into her saddle and sit ready. The horses began at a trot and then quickened, leaving the Tower Grounds behind. As she rode through the majestic city of Tar Valon, greatest in the world and made by the Ogier, her eyes took in every man and woman who she passed. People of every nation walked the streets of Tar Valon; Selina did not show her disapproval of those from Tear. She had grown to hate the land of her youth. She forced away the bad memories brought to the surface by the sight of Tairen clothing, and stared ahead at the circular docks, setting her mind on what would happen once she reached Ghealdan. Perhaps she would be raised to a Sitter one day if she fought enough false dragons. But that one day would certainly be far off yet, and for the time she would have to settle for the thrill she got from bringing a prideful man to his knees.

What a ciry really looked like. Reigner looked around at the mutituse of buildings with awe. He and his brother had been here a few days now but every new street Reinger walked help new wonders to a simple farm lad. But he wasn't was he. Not anymore. His borhter was hoked on that book of tales about the Dragon. Maudin didn't seem to care if Reigner didn't want to be the Dragon. "The world needs you for the last battle Reigner, if you don't the Dark One will win." The words had played over and over in his head like a very bad Gleeman with to much drink in his belly.

Making his way through the crowd, Reigner headed back for the inn. Staying at the Queen's Majesty was indeed a crapped living but better than a hay loft on some Light ridden farm. Opening the door to the common room was like walking into another world. At this hour the room was not even near full and the few patrons that drank here were to busy with their drinks than anything else. Taking the steps two at a time he opened the door to the small room. "Grettings brother. Reading again are you?" He said, throwing himself down on his bed and retreaving his own version of the same book from under the bed.. Stealing, he had told himself was allowed when needed and to be the Dragon these kind of books were needed.

__________________
He who laughs last thinks slowest.
Change is inevitable except from a vending machine.
I just got lost in thought. It was unfamiliar territory.
Those who live by the sword... get shot by those who don't.
He's not dead... he's electroencephalographically challenged.
Honk if you love peace and quiet.
Nothing is foolproof to a sufficiently talented fool.
Light travels faster than sound. This is why some people appear bright until you hear them speak.

Arien began to think the Light had finally shined on him today. He had finally come across a decent sized town, wooden walls around it. From the look of Arien's map, it was the town of Baerlon. Arien looked to the sky, the sun was at its zenith. "Well Alantin, looks like you can go hunting again. I want a bed for the first night in a long time, a bath and some polish for this armor wouldn't be too bad either." Arien slides off the saddle of his torm and begins undoing his saddle bags, though he leaves the saddle under a tree. "Keep an eye on the saddle, can't just waltz into town with a saddle and no horse. I'd get even more strange looks." Alantin gives what would be assumed as a 'great, now I have to watch your things' look and a low growl as he plops down ontop of the saddle.
Arien strides into town with his bags over his left shoulder, and his great axe strapped to his right. He gets a few quizzical looks from people, but most seem to take an armed man as normal. Good, this may be easier on me then normal. Though a fight had caught his interest, as it had quite a few people. A swordsman of skill facing what he assumed to be a tavern brawler, it was obvious as to who would win. But out of curiosity, Arien watched. The man displayed quite a bit of skill, especially since he did only little harm to the man instead of simply kill him, though his running out of the city could be seen coming since the beginning. I may have to keep an eye out for that man after I leave, I might be able to use him. With a shake of his head, Arien continued on through the city to find an inn to put his things at and find a blacksmith to polish his more important things.

__________________
Night gathers, and now my watch begins. It shall not end until my death. I shall take no wife, hold no lands, father no children. I shall wear no crowns and win no glory. I shall live and die at my post. I am the sword in the darkness. I am the watcher on the walls. I am the fire that burns against the cold, the light that brings the dawn, the horn that wakes the sleepers. I pledge my life and honor to the Night's Watch, for this night and all the nights to come.

Paher finally stopped running about a mile and a half from the city, panting heavily. "Light, but I thought they had me a while back." They had obviously given up the chase, as there was no one left behind him, but there was also no one ahead of him, not even one of those farm-country huts. Paher could try going back to Baerlon, though really, that was hardly a choice. With a reluctant scowl, Paher headed south down the road, to whatever town he'd find.
It was not too long before he came to a smaller, more country-bumpkin farm town. Asking around, he learned that the town was known as Emond's Field. He never remembered hearing anything about this little place, but he should have, with such an angerable Wisdom. He took a seat in the tavern, or inn, or whatever it was called here. Winespring; a very generous name. the innkeeper came, not even asking what sort of drink or food he wanted, as if they had but one thing to drink or eat. After a rather quiet, but filling meal, Paher bought a room. He was running too low on coin, this brought him to only three-fourths of what he had before entering. Now, where would he get more money? These thoughts, and later ones of Saria, faded as he fell under sleep's grip.
((Woops, made this post before fully reading the first post. Do I need to change it to get rid of the Nynaeve-esque character?))

__________________

Sa souvraya niende misain ye - I am lost in my own mind.
Sene sovya caba'donde ain dovienya - Luck is a horse to ride like any other.
Dovie'andi se tovya sagain - It is time to roll the dice.
!(/Dirge\)!