Aistopodia (Fantasy, medieva, adventuring RP...there will be mutton!)

Alright, so this is me breaking out of a mean mean writer's block. Hope this sounds good to everyone on paper, as good as it sounds in my mind!

In the kingdom of Denardryn, war and turmoil have been things of constant occurrence in it's lengthy history. After years of constant bloodshed and battles with neighboring kingdoms, the men of the Denardryn cavalry ranks happened upon a mysterious tomb. It looked to be centuries old if not older. The king ordered an exploration of the tomb. A small scouting party was sent in, but, they never returned to the surface. Instead, an almost endless torrent of pure power washed over the lands, as far as man had ever gone. This power seemed to leak out forever. However, years later it finally stopped. This power changed the lands, the animals, the sky, even the people themselves. This was what was only seen in legend: Ryela, in other words, magical power. This power effected many lands and people differently, but quite an effect it had on things, if any. Powerful wizards and sorcery had risen. The most important effect of this new power: warfare. As the discoverers of this power, the kingdom of Denardryn had the most time to study and perfect uses of this new power and became dominant in the lands, ending most warfare entirely with nothing but a show of force. This peace has lasted for many hundreds of years, but it seems the Ryela wasn't as limitless as everyone had hoped...the power has stopped leaking out of the tomb, and sorcery everywhere began to dry up, as the power that was once accessible from just breathing, would now have to be siphoned out of living things. With that being an end the king did not want to have to come to, he decided to call together a group of brave, or foolish, maybe both, adventurers. The tomb must hold the key to more of the limitless power, right? There must be a way to save this new and most valuable power!

So thats what I got so far. Maybe if this sparks interest I can fetch this story outta my head :D The story will pretty much begin in the royal hall of castle Denardryn, where the adventurers will meet and be given a few items of their choice as gifts from the king to go on this quest for him. I have a lot of dungeon type stuff planned for this, and a nnice ending should we make it that far. I wanna leave character creation open, the magic may or may not have affected your character, maybe you even studied the ability to cast spells with Ryela. Who am I to say no? :3

OOC: Click it nao

Bleeeh I know the feeling. Writers block sucks. I have been having a hard time thinking of stuff to write myself. D:

This seems like fun though! I'd be interested in joining~ ^^

Yay! Let's see if this doesn't attract more people. And uh, that thwarted in there...is supposed to just be the....stupid autocorrect >3>

A few twists and my " go-to" Rogue can be a man who has been cursed by one who abused Ryela. Without any powers himself he has joined up with the group to venture into the tomb and find the cure to his affliction. The curse really is a debilitating curse, not a " I get all these awesome powers for a wee drawback" curse.

Ah, I like the way you think, and how your rogue sounds. I think I'll make an ooc with a few more people.

Quite interested.

I'm gonna get to work on writing an ooc, you guys get to work on those characters ^^

Motions interest.

Very interested.

I'll just store this here till the OOC is up.


Name: Pacran Offshore

Age: 25

Class: Rogue

Race: Human

Sex:Male

Appearance: Pacran stands at 5' 8" with a taught agile frame. Dark Brown hair and sea green eyes set in dark tan face with a strong jaw. His left arm is covered from shoulder to wrist in a tattoo of a thousand written tongues. Each obviously a single line of text, but every scholar Pacran has met cannot read the text. Pacran wears a dark green scarf over a brown vest, his right arm is sleeveless while his left has a black leather sleeve hiding his left arm. The sleeve runs from his fingers, to his shoulder where the sleeve is clasped to his vest. He also wears light black cotton pants and light leather shoes. He wears two matching daggers at his sides, which he has named Flotsam and Jetsam.

Personality: Pacran is usually a very happy, optimistic sort and very easy going.He is an embodiment of a seaside go-with-the-flow lifestyle . Though he has a tendency to doubt himself especially in the presence of water and can have his mood severely dampened by bad weather like rain. He has gained a strong fear of water (crossing it, sailing etc.) Though he is generally relaxed, he does take his work very seriously.

Special Skill: Pacran has the skill-set of an expert free runner. He is also deadly with his twin daggers and the throwing knives he hides in his leather sleeve. With his years of being an information hunter, Pacran has become well acquainted with lock-picking, stealth, deception, disguises and grand escapes.

History: Pacran was born and raised in a small fishing village named Innapolis, on the southern coast of Denardryn , far from the normal areas of conflict along the kingdom’s borders. He was raised by his Mother and Grandfather, alongside his younger sister Pashlin. Pacran helped provide for his village at a very young age, fishing with his Grandfather out at sea. His Grandfather would also teach Pacran about combat from his experience sailing with merchants to other far off kingdoms. His free time was spent surfing with his sister on a small island in front of a reef off the coast of their home.

When the Ryela flow slowed to a trickle, no one in Innapolis had the affinity to notice. On one fateful day an old man in dark robes came to the village, and stayed at the towns inn. He rarely left his room, but Pacran had noted the mans sad expression and starved appearance. 14 year old Pacran and 12 year old Pashlin’s Grandfather told them to do their best to avoid the strange man. One evening Pacran and Pashlin paddled out to their little island and surfed till evening. They both fell asleep on the warm sands. Pacran was awakened by his sister’s screams. The old man was standing over him chanting. Pacran and Pashlin were paralyzed and frozen to the sand. A searing pain overcame Pacran's left arm and he saw dark words searing into his forearm and onto his sister's arm, he passed out twice from the pain only to be brought back by it. When he came too the second time he was on a raft with Pashlin over the reef, she was sobbing heavily. Pacran could see the man on the shore out of the corner of his eye, except he looked much younger. He wore the same blue robes but now stood straight and his face was full of life. A wave knocked over their raft and as soon as his arm hit the water he felt it's weight grow. They both sunk quickly below the waves, Pacran hit a reef but had to watch his sister sink into much darker,deeper waters. He let the oxygen starved sleep take him. He awoke on the beach, coughing up saltwater. The men of the village had rescued him, 4 men were needed to lift him out of the ocean. Pashlin and that evil, Ryela-starved wizard could not be found.

Water causes Pacran's cursed arm to increase in weight ( Mist= discomfort, light rain=awkward yet can still manage, heavy rain= he has to lug his own arm around, submerged= 80 lbs of dead weight.)

Pacran left Innapolis shortly after being saved from the waves. He dreams of curing himself and returning home to the sea he loves so much. Years have passed and Pacran is now 25 and fancy’s himself an “Information Hunter”. Others have called him a thief, spy or assassin on occasion, but when Pacran is hired to acquire, destroy or silence information, he completes his tasks with talent and skill no matter the name. He uses this career as a way to one day find a cure for his affliction. He now stands by a pillar in the King of Denadryn’s receiving hall. A former client with ties to the throne has told him of this fool’s errand. Pacran could not pass up the opportunity to take his problem straight to the source.