Welcome, wearisome travelers, to the land of Meath.
Who am I you ask? Devin, proud proprietor of the best tavern in town.
You have landed here, rather a surprise to us all, and to you as well I gather. Well, once you settle down a bit, please, come in to my fine establishment right down the street there. I've cold ale and hot stew and I'll tell you all about our troubled land. 10 coppers will get you the finest beds in the place if you plan to stay, I really hope you will.
Ah! The outsiders from earlier, you've come. Now, what would you like to know?
I'm so glad you've asked! Meath is our country, and really the only one of any importance that's for sure. Now, where to begin. Meath is ruled by High Prince Alaric. His family has ruled this land for countless generations. Below him are the High Lords, twelve in all. Below them are countless landed lords-Arls, then the landed Knights.
Cities you say? Well there's five total. Our blessed capital is just a few days south of here, Tuam. This here is the town of Skibbereen. A small town yes, but furthest north and proud of it. Far west you'll find our Holy City Lismore. Further south you go, you'll stumble upon the city of Cootehill, and finally, just south of the capital is Mullingar. Here let me give you a map.
What else? Oh, do you mean beyond the cities? Well out east there's a mountain range that's nearly impassable, and beyond that a desert no one's crossed in living memory. There's quite a bit of land between us, best to stay to the roads if you travel. Beyond the safety of our royal roads lie all sorts of dangers. Caves and dungeons, old forts, terrifying monsters I suppose. You'd do best to just stay put really.
What sorts of people? What do you mea-Hm. You really are an outsider aren't you? Where did you say you came from again? Ah nevermind, I'll explain. Well you have people like me. Human through and through. There's also your Dark Elves, Wood Elves, and Dwarves. The Dwarves you don't see much of up here. They like the underworld mostly. Few make their way up now and then. Fit in just fine too.
The Church? The church is old as our royal family, maybe older I reckon. Arianrhod, goddess bless me, is ruler of the heavens. She spins her Wheel of time, life, and death of which all mortals must take part. In times past we worshiped a pantheon of gods and goddesses. Such talk is heretical now and I'll speak no more about it.
I told you, I'd say no more about it! If you continue this line of questioning I must ask you to leave.
You do have money to pay me? Ah no worries, if not I'll set you to work to pay it back. Copper pennies, silver stags, and gold moons. 100 pennies to a stag, 100 stags to a moon. This meal will be costing you 5 pennies a piece.
Tech-aw weaponry and the like? You'll be glad to know our royal soldiers are equipped with the finest steel. Word has spread of an excellent improvement on the bow, the long bow, though it takes quite a man to wield it. If warriors have the gold, their equipment can be enchanted. Tricky stuff that, I don't trust it myself.
You aren't that sort of person are you? Well if you are, don't go throwing fire around. This here is a wooden establishment. Magic is a gift from Arianrhod with one exception. She has given no mortal command of time. Our mages can do wondrous things like the enchantment bit I told you about. They have control of the elements that they can bend to their will. Some use it to fight like a knight, others use it as protection.There's even myths of those who can shed their skin and acquire another. Awful bit that.
Breaking the Fourth Wall
Rules and Guidelines:
- Advanced Standards: Please be able to write coherent English, as well as post at least 3 paragraphs. The three paragraphs should move the plot along and include actions, thoughts/description, and dialog if required.
- This is meant to be a light-hearted tale, heavily character oriented, and a player co-created world. I've set up the basics, we'll fill it in together.
- [FONT=Book Antiqua]We are playing as regular people who get sucked into an RPG universe, your character will retain their thoughts/memories/etc of real life but will physically be in the game world with game physics applying. For all intents and purposes you are your character, but without knowledge of the world you now find yourself in.
- Have fun.
- Be nice.
- Death will happen. But don't worry, we're in a game universe. Death will cause you to respawn in town, although without any belongings on you. You'll have to retrieve those from the Temple (each city/town has one).
Text/Pic combo works nicely, if including an image, please no anime.Race:
You've got your pick of four (I could maybe be convinced of others, but it'll take a really big bribe). Humans, Dark Elves, Wood Elves, and Dwarves. Wood Elves because "regular" elves seemed derogatory to the Dark Elves. Wood Elves live the longest (up to 300 years), followed by Dwarves (some reach the grand old age of 200), Dark Elves (150), and Humans (75).Class:
This is not a comprehensive list, more a quick bit of suggestions. Knight, Mage, Rogue, Thief, Bard, Healer, Archer, Paladin, Battlemage, etc etc.Equipment:
Leather, iron, steel, and any mixture of those in regards to armor. As far as weaponry, steel is once again the best you can have, for now. Nothing enchanted at the moment. Remember, you were just dropped into this world. You're lucky the game gods decided to give you coverings.Powers/Talents:
This is up to your creative whims, to an extent. Be reasonable. No master level all magic plus dual wielding great swords (or war-hammers). Leave some room for improvement while we're at it.Personality/Flaws:
Flaws are necessary, have some good ones. Some funny ones, I dare you.Bio:This was a trick. This is actually not all that necessary since we're players dropped into a universe we've never existed in. But, once all chars are accepted, use this work out history between each other. If you want. Not necessary, really. Actually-ignore this.
Aithne is short by Dark Elf standards, well endowed and curvy, and always choosing to wear garments that accentuate that fact. To make up for her height she chooses shoes and boots with heels. Her hip length black hair is rarely restrained, instead flowing freely. Instead of the typical red eyes associated with Dark Elves, Aithne's are a deep purple.
Her current clothing, a red linen dress split widely up to her thighs, light leather greaves beneath, brown leather boots with a large heel, a belt with several ties and compartments, a small bag worn across her body, a gold necklace with small jewels encrusted in it, and several golden bangles about both arms.Powers/Talents:
Mana potions (3)
Small iron mace
2 stags, 364 pennies
Fireball: sends a ball of fire at target, adjustable in size with due concentration, deals larger damage than Scorch but can only target one person or creature.Personality/Flaws:
Scorch: general area spell, deals damage weaker than Fireball, but over a much larger area
Fire-blade: Not an enchantment, this spell coats a weapon in a flame that will extinguish in time, can be used on any non flammable weapon
In general, Aithne is an easy going, free loving woman. She is quick to trust and lend a smile. She is also quick to grow jealous when losing anyone's attentions. Gullible, and never fully understanding why others don't take her seriously.
Pyrophiliac: Amazed, intrigued, and drawn to fire. Thoroughly enjoys using her powers for any reason she can think of, including passing the time.
Girly-girl: She loves pretty things of any nature, be it fine clothing or trinkets and baubles.
Loot Whore: Loves collecting the belongings of the recently killed. Investment in a pack mule is heavily suggested.
Big spender: Aithne is not to be trusted with the group's savings. She will spend it on a new dress.
Entomophobia: Terrified of insects and bugs. If something buzzes by her ear, she will scream, and she will let loose a fire spell.
-There are qualities that make Bjartr a typical dwarf, and qualities that set him apart. He is short, heavy, built strong, and impressively bearded, like most dwarves, and his clothes and ornaments can be recognised as being of Dwarven make. He is, however, just slightly taller than most other dwarves (although humans may find it hard to notice), and his features aren't as ugly as with many dwarves. His beard is unbraided and smiles come easier to his face than frowns, even though he still frowns often. He wears no armour and is happy to wield his staff with one hand rather than two. He has been on many pilgrimages on the overworld, so his skin is more tanned than that of many dwarven miners. His eyes are only somewhat dark brown-grey and his nose is slightly crooked, as if broken from the side once long ago.
-Power-channeling staff, which amplifies Bjartr's magic and is sturdy enough to hit someone with
-Hooded cloak marked with runes, which acts as a mild deterrant to undead
-Various lucky charms worn in his beard and around his neck
-Travelling clothes with hidden pockets, containing
--3 Silver Stags
--72 Copper Pennies
--Old beard ornament with family runes
--Potion of Majicka/Mana
--Potion of Healing
--Holy Book of Arianrhod
--Small bottle of Dwarven Brandy
-Tough old nut: Bjartr is no slouch physically. He has enough stamina to outlast many other travellers, and seems to function well even on restricted rations. While not exceptionally invulnerable, Bjartr is certainly not fragile and can take an average blow without much more than a grunt and a fall. When magic fails, he has proven himself equally capable of using his staff to hit someone with surprising strength.
-Haggler: This dwarf is learned in the secret arts of lowering prices and working out deals. His social skills have their limits due to his personality quirks, but he is clever enough to wring the most value out of money when buying supplies and making those supplies last for a surprisingly long time, although the latter requires cooperation.
-Minor Healing: Bjartr cannot regenerate major wounds in himself or others, but his touch and spells gives energy to a casualty's body to heal itself and knit together wounds like a knife gash or basic burn. This power, like much of the rest of his magic, isn't as simple without his staff, as his own body needs to provide part of the energy without the aid of the staff.
-Illumination: Conjuring things like beams of light and glowing spheres is no problem for Bjartr. Where this dwarf goes, darkness is rare. This power is not restricted by the lack of a staff, however, the aid of a staff amplifies the light enough to be a potential (if fairly weak) weapon.
-Undead deterrant: Undead find themselves uncomfortable or paranoid in the presence of Bjartr. This has little effect on more intelligent undead, but lowly zombies are easier to destroy with his aid.
-Magic Circles: Given time, Bjartr can draw a circle of symbols that maintain a spell. For example, with enough time, the dwarf can draw a circle of Minor Healing that applies the effects of the spell to all those inside, although the magic still comes mainly from him.
-Loyal: Despite the many flaws he has, Bjartr will never leave companions behind. He will remain devoted to those he serves until death, and will fight to the last to protect friends or family.
-Mischievous: Bjartr is often heard laughing mischievously or failing spectacularily at trying to avoid looking suspicious. When in a relaxed mood, he plays pranks and makes sly jokes regularly.
-Stingy: Bjartr can be trusted with money and valuable objects, but getting them back poses problems. He goes out of his way to avoid wastefulness, and seems to like his pleasures small. He can and will haggle with surprising skill.
-Reckless: Bjartr has little regard for danger, and although he is a very brave dwarf, he has often received avoidable injuries by ignoring his limits and not knowing when to back down. Others are not entirely safe from this, as he will often try to drag them along with his plans without caution.
-Irritable: Bjartr doesn't like others disagreeing with him, and will insist that others follow his way, which is almost always the best way according to him. He is stubborn and sometimes childish in this respect. Although like everyone he has good moods and bad moods, he can be a problem to deal with when angry.
-Condescending: Bjartr sees himself as older and wiser than others, no matter their age or intelligence, and will rarely admit inferiority.
-Stealthless: Bjartr cannot move silently to save his life. His voice is loud, his footsteps are loud, his magic is flashy and bright and easy to notice, and he's very clumsy, tripping over rocks, dropping heavy objects, and accidentally making things explode regularly.
-Forgetful: Bjartr is prone to forgetting things he doesn't have a particular interest in. While remembering quotes from holy texts and symbols for magic circles is easy for him, he is not to be trusted with information that isn't valuable to him personally or someone he's close to, as he will probably forget it or dismiss it as irrelevant.
-Superstitious: Probably the most significant of all, Bjartr is very superstitious, holding many odd beliefs and believing firmly in karma, luck, evil spirits, and omens. Religion is the driving force of his life and he will not hesitate to punish what he sees as blasphemous.
Deratiri is of an average height for Dark Elves, he normally wears his black armor or, if he must "blend in" he can also wear a black cloak under a black overcoat of sorts, with black boots to match. He has black hair that travel to the middle of his back, which he lets free sometimes, but he tends to conceal it underneath his hood. His eyes, like most Dark Elves, are red.
Race: Dark Elf
Class: Rogue - Theif
- Short Swords- These blades is something Deratiri uses when he needs to fight, which, if he's lucky is not often. They have a slightly curved blade on a black handle with a simple grip made of leather and a pommel of copper. The blade is made of steel.
-Throwing knives- Instead of a bow, he prefers these small but lethal knives. They are about 3'' long and very light. They are Iron and easy to bury in the necks of his enemies from quite a distance. He normally carries two to three everywhere he goes. He can also use these as daggers for closer situations.
-cloth sack- which he wears on his back and it contains:
- a set of lockpicks-
- a climbing rope-
- a waterskin-
He also has light leather armor that covers his entire body and is dyed black, specifically for him. He wears a belt that contains two pouches and though one is empty the other contains two silver tags and 20 copper pennies
Powers/Talents: -Shadow in The Night- Deratiri acts best in shadows and at night. he moves quickly and is fairly acrobatic, able to enter most areas, whether they are locked or not and thus, he has tremendous sneaking ability and can remain unseen and springily quiet.
-Sticky Fingers- Deratiri steals things. That's what he's good at. In fact, that's his life. But, what comes with that is the ability to judge what he thinks will be valuable and what won't...but that doesn't mean he won't try and keep it for himself.
-Sneaky: He is, as any thief worth his or her salt would be, a sneaky person. He will generally try to hide things from people if he thinks that it's a secret worth keeping or he doesn't want them to know something. Many times, this can lead to squabbles among a group, and he can often be the target of those arguments because he knows something important, but won't tel...
-Elven Mistrust: He should not be trusted, and is not often trusted, because of what he is and who he is. He often dislikes humans and is particularly not fond of Dwarves, but will tolerate other elves. His tolerance level drops with Humans and is utterly zero with Dwarves. Thus, he is best partnered with an Elf.
-Prideful: He is a very much a prideful elf. He takes great pride in stealing form others and not being caught, often telling tales of how great this capture was or that escape from the guards of the home was.
-Lightphobia: Deratiri has not so much a fear of light...he just doesn't prefer to be in it for very long. Light shines on things...and can't hide someone very well, therefore, he perfers to stick to shadows, and darkness as much as he can.
Bio: To be added later.
Yorven Retheniel - The Redscarf
Yorven, like most elves, grew up to be a handsome person. Yet in his case someone decided to make it their business to mar the elven-gift of beautiful features. Ever since his mutilation, Yorven wears the crimson headscarf to cover his hideous scar on the right side of his face. As such, the elf has a more crude and violent look than most of his serenely looking kin.
To indicate his connection to his forest home and nature itself, he has several tattoos on his honed body which resemble vines, flowers and leaves.
Bounty hunter, mercenary - swordsman & archer
Yorven prefers lightly armoured clothing; padded vests with reinforced studs, scalemail and brigandine garments. Usually he is dressed in rather natural colours: brown, green and dark shades which allow him to blend in easily with his surroundings - the crimson scarf being the usual exception. Yorven's weapons of choice are varied. A wide array of short blades, daggers and dirks are attached to his belts, as well as a finely crafted bow and its necessary attributes. Additionally he is armed with an elegantly curved blade customary for wood elves.
Furthermore he keeps most of his belongings on him because of his rather nomadic lifestyle. After all, there is only so much work to go around. Items he carries around in his pack are: phials for potions, herbs, supplies, alchemical tools, a flute, a glossary and journal, flints, trapping equipment, ...
Excellent warrior - His years of fighting and practising his trade have turned him into a very capable warrior. Coupled with - but not limited to- his survival skills and talent with the bow he makes for a character to be reckoned with.
Knowledge of herbs and alchemy - though not an expert, he knows of many means of sustaining the body and healing it using whatever one finds in nature. He is no surgeon or druid, but he can dress and mend most wounds.
Wit - Yorven is an intelligent person. He takes great pleasure in figuring out how others think and 'tick'. A side-effect is that he likes to manipulate others, but will cherish a vengeful grudge to anyone trying to do the same to him.
Stealthy - Like most of his kin he is light footed and quick. He seems to move with the experienced grace of a predator when set to a goal, being a total master of his muscles and reflexes.
Yorven is disappointed in life and what it has to offer and he is very, very angry at the world.
Bitter bugger - Yorven is a bitter elf who has lived mostly a secluded life in voluntary exile. The ordeals of his life have scarred him both mentally and physically. Extremely terse and often hostile to others, he is a strange brand of hermit with limited social skills.
Hot temper - The elf is hot-tempered and quick. Fortunately for him, his intellect keeps it mostly in check enabling him to be very calculated. Yorven is a very unforgiving person.
Distorted compass - there are no true right or wrongs according to Yorven. The world is supposedly divided into larger and lesser evils and smaller and bigger goods, it up to each and every individual to choose between the two.
Drunk philospher - he is prone to drink, and when he drinks, Yorven gets philosophical.
Grave gambler - Yorven won't turn down a good bet, be it dice, fistfights, armwrestling or a drinking competition.
Artistic narcist - Yorven is a self-proclaimed genius. Stroking his ego is a good way to make him feel less inclined you are not worthy of his attention. He believes himself superior to most others and he's not afraid to share that opinion. An important part of him is a great lover of music and the arts.
Mild claustrophobia - He has a great dislike of narrow spaces. The elf prefers open land or forested regions instead of deep burrows or caverns. As such Yorven harbours slight contempt for the dwarves and people living in crowded cities.
Unsavoury character (asshole) - He is a bad teamplayer, for Yorven cares only for Yorven. Not even his own kind can count on much sympathy from him. He has little scruples.
To be added
Name: Marcus Burcaud
Appearance: Marcus is a stocky man of average height, standing at about 5'8 and built of muscle and fat, though more of the latter as he would like to admit. He has a naturally tan complexion and short, black hair with wide, dark brown eyes and full lips. His nose is more wide than it is narrow and he has the stubble of a beard around his jaw.
Class: Brawler; Marcus is a simple man and what could be more simple than punching someone in the face?
Equipment: Gauntlets, arm-guards, greaves and a curriass all made of steel. Other equipment include thick leather hobnailed boots, a knife and a waterskin(full of mead). He also has a leather belt with some pouches, mostly empty but some having coins amounting to two silver stags and eighty copper pennies.
For clothing he wears a simple plain red tunic and leather trousers.
-Hardy constitution: Marcus is a hardy person and is unfazed by what many people would find horrifying or disgusting. Not to mean he doesn’t have his own fears but he is hardier than most. He also has a wide pain threshold, not that he enjoys being in pain.
-Sunder: An armour cracking punch, delivered with a lot of force, that breaks wood and dents metal. Hurts like a bitch too.
-Perverted: Sometimes the eyes just wander.....
-Drinks like a drain: Never hurts to have one more swig...
-Lazy: Ugh, why move when someone else can do it?
Devas is an oxymoron if there ever was one in the game. Completely forgoing the natural affinity for magic of his kin, he’s basing himself solely on the physical aspect of things. Of course his avatar is a prime specimen of body; the player’s narcissistic nature almost shines through it. Much like the female counterparts, Devas too enjoys flaunting his body around as an art exhibit, because to him it really is that important. He can always be seen sporting a two-handed sword almost as tall as he at the hilt.
Race: Dark Elf
Age: 68 (wrote in 69 by accident at first, but no one wants to be that guy xD)
-a few pieces of leather scraped together into an armor that reveals more than it hides
-Hardened warrior – if he so wishes, he can physically endure and perhaps win most basic battles.
-Impressive strength – a byproduct of his sword art, he is twice any man, or so he believes.
-Appealing – sometimes it helps, and sometimes it doesn’t. Still, he considers his looks to be an asset.
-Smart – Devas isn’t stupid which can actually be seen when he’s brave enough to disregard his more usual self.
-In it to win it – Devas caters to an attitude that makes him take care of his own needs first, second and third.
-Insecure – when his manliness is put to a serious question, he’ll start to overcompensate and become arrogance incarnate.
-Hotheaded – planning? Give me a break! We’re charging in! Leeeeroy Jeeeeeenkins!
-Big blue dress – he treats any and all mage type characters as emasculated. He can find them useful, he’s just never sure how can they feel like men and still carry around dresses and robes and other girly things.
-Too laid back to really care – there’s a raid coming to get us? Ah well, it’ll clear itself up when it has to. This part of him leaves him a possible target for manipulation. Still, god help those he actually notices doing such things.
-Just give me a moment to tidy up - More than any girl he ever knew, he cares about looking good while doing things. Given serious predicament he'll be prone to overthink how could he look good while helping out before actually doing anything useful.
Ithildrin is a dark elf lacking any concept of tact, grace or charm that seems naturally inherent in most elves. He wears long, matted silver hair and matching scruff. By human standards, he looks to be in his mid 30s, with some boyish features still evident in his cocky grin and blood red eyes. A tall elf, he is nimble on his feet and lithe in build.
Race: Dark Elf.
Greetings, stranger! I'm Mikkel, the shop keep here in town. Don't go rubbin' your grubby paws all over the merchandize unless you intend on buyin' it. Here, because you're new round here, I'll give you a very special deal because I'm such a swell fellow... what? No, I swear to ya this deal is just for you... ignore that sign hangin' behind me head.
Primary Weapon: Brass Knuckle Cutlass, a smaller blade which is versatile and built with close melee in mind, the blade is ¼ serrated while the hand-guard has 'brass knuckles' for blunt force damage. The tip of the blade cuts to a sharp 45 degree angle making it ideal for armour piercing, so while not being ideal for conventional sword fighting it'll stab any fool bastard that leaves himself exposed.
Secondary Weapon: Boot Jack, a rather small, concealed dagger that fits into the palm of your hand. Yeah, it's not the manliest knife on the market but if you find yourself in a pinch it's better than standing unarmed with your pants around your ankles. Comes with a lifetime warranty, can't say the same about your opponent.
Armour: Cowhide leather tunic, a sturdy piece of skin that protects most of your vitals... it's a bit itchy and smells like hell but that's the sacrifice you make for staying alive. In addition to that, you're wearing a nifty traveller's cap on your noggin', it's rubbish for protection but at least you'll go down in style. Oh, and I see ya got a pair of cowhide boots, yeah, because the enemy is going to be aiming for your feet... tell me how that goes for ya.
Clothing: Well, I'm no tailor or nothing but I'd say you're doing alright, I'm sure the whole soiled and stained look is a big hit with the maidens, er. Let's see, white long sleeve undershirt, sweat spots in the pits. A pair of dark breeches, certainly a codpiece underneath that... let's hope it's not that itchy cowhide. Ah, a traveller's cloak made of wool... nice if you want to look as conspicuous as possible at the tavern. Leather belt, gloves and bag, looks like you're set, mate.
And that's that, now then... looks like you're ready to take on a horde! Great! That'll cost ya 3 stags and 70 copp- eh? You don't have the coin? Well, that's not going to do, one bit. Tell ya what, I'll 'loan' you the wares but in return you gots to do something for 'ol Mikkel. Deal? Good lad!
1.) Featherweight; Increases overall dexterity, stamina and mobility for a brief period of time but comes at a cost of defense and decreases damage. While being used, the chances of scoring critical hits increases a small amount. This skill is best used against a group or weaker opponents.
2.) Festering Wounds; It's amazing what happens to your weapons when you neglect them, the blood of your foes starts to develop an odour. That definitely can't be good. But hey, because you're such a dirty boy you can inflict infectious wounds on your foes! That means the poor sods are going to have to seek medical care otherwise they'll get that green shit. However, prolonged use of this skill decreases the durability of your weapon.
3.) No Mercy; Why leave prisoners? All they do is whine and bitch and slow you down, instead, just end their pathetic lives and collect your big reward! Well, that is if the bounty wasn't for them to be captured alive... heh...
4.) Battle Scars; So maybe fighting that army all by your lonesome wasn't the smartest move you've ever made, hell, it was down right embarrassing. Likewise, now that you've recovered from being terribly mauled you gain stat bonuses so the next time you run into that army you'll be a bit stronger... unless you die, then you lose all stat bonuses gained.
5.) Make Your Bones; Okay, so this is a bit disgusting but hear me out... once you kill your foe in glorious combat, make sure to take a 'piece' of them with you. When it comes time to collect your reward and they want proof... well, you got it. This should shut 'em up and they'll pay you handsomely for your... gruesome efforts.
Insomniac – He would make a perfect sentry... if he could actually pay attention for longer than ten seconds.
Kleptophile – He needs it. Now. He must have it... for his own... the precious... sss...
Goldfish – I think he has ADHD. ACDC... rock music... oooh, a bird!
Booze Hound – There's only one thing that can distract him from the hunt and that's the hunt for more drink.
Philanderus Perverticus – Ladies, beware.
Horder – Sharing is for communists.
Gallant Coward – Never takes shame in running from a fight. He even makes it look good!
That Escalated Quickly – When the battle is won, expect showboating up the yin-yang.
Best Intentions – Despite his... quirks... he's an alright guy. Just don't leave your loot unattended.
To be expanded upon later, possibly.
Devin is a middle-aged innkeeper in Skibbereen. Just barely past forty years, he is a rounded and balding man. He wears an apron stained with drink and food, though also stiff from regular cleanings. He keeps his inn spotless and dust free. Devin smiles quickly, especially for those with coin to spend at his establishment, The Dragon's Rest. Few are as knowledgeable about the rumors and gossip of the city than he.