Norisea was a beautiful country with huge mountains, huge forest, rolling hills and fertile farm land. It was a peaceful land that hadn’t seen war in three generations. The soldiers grew lazy there biggest concern was thieves and beast. The nobles confident and rich, common folk were happy and content. The mage schools bloomed across the land the fear of magic gone. Norisea was headed in a new direction into the next generation; weapons now enchanted with magic could kill a beast in one hit, arrows never missed and wounds healed in hours with little or no causality.
That was 50 years ago……
It happened so quickly, there had been talk of dead bodies rising, and a necromancer scouring the land for artifacts. It was dismissed as myth, tall tales and gossips quickly enough. The king thought nothing of it, the mage schools were the only ones to detect a real threat, and even they blew it off as some fool dabbling in black magic. It wasn’t until the first city fell that anyone took notice, it was the dwarven city deep in the mountains. It fell within a matter of hours, dead bodies rising from the ground, skeletons bursting through the iron doors, and wraiths coming from the walls. Thousands died within the first hour, it took only three hours for the most fortified city in the country to fall. This was only the beginning.
It wasn’t long before the king raised his armies and the mages prepared there spells, but by then it was too late the necromancer had gotten what he needed from the dwarven city. An amulet of unbelievable power hidden deep within the cities ruins, some would say it came from hell itself. All that died became his slaves, and those that he didn’t kill right away. He would consume their willpower and life using the amulet.
It took only a year for the country to fall. The cities and towns now empty ghost towns, the armies all but dust on abandoned battlefields. The only thing left standing was small villages filled with mostly women and children. They fortified themselves the best they could, but even that didn’t help them all.
It has been 49 years since the wars ended. The necromancer still reigns over the land, but civilization has begun to rebuild itself under his rule. He is an evil leader sending his undead minions to kidnap people and take whatever he wants from them. The people survive, waiting for a hero.
In a land of swords and sorcery. A lone group of adventures face the odds. An evil necromancer has taken control of the land, turning the majority of the populace into the undead. With vast legions of decaying zombie soldiers and skeleton warriors. He reigns over the land, turning all those that oppose him into the undead. Cites and towns have been reduced to rubble, the armies to ash. All that stands are small villages scattered across the land. Will the band of misfits be able to take down this necromancer or will the necromancer and his undead legions crush the last hope?
1. When fighting other players, no auto hits, god mods, and no bullshit.
2. Please keep things realistic in a sense, you can’t dodge every attack and you can’t take on an army. Please be logical and realistic about your actions.
3. You must post once per day, if this is a problem that’s fine, just let us know. I know we all have a life outside of this. I might even end up breaking this rule. I just want a nice flow, that way people won’t get bored.
4. If there are any conflicts or fights, that can’t seem to be resolved, I or a gm needs to be notified to solve this issue. No OOC talk in the IC forum when it’s up.
5. Please stay in character, even if you know the plot or the twist that are coming up doesn’t mean your character does. I don’t mind swearing in dialog, but not in actions. Your character is not going to fucking hit someone. So to speak.
6. You can kill each other’s characters with the owner’s permission.
7. If there is anything you think should be a rule then let me know.
All high fantasy races are acceptable. Custom races need to be run by the GM's. (Snowwhitemochi, Kaimosa and ALoneWarrior.)
Magic exist, but needs to be kept at a minimum or at least have some drawbacks. Necromancer is allowed to be OP on magic, he is the boss. The other four lieutenants are on the same level as the adventures. Necromancer will have a big role in plot progression so please keep this in mind when applying.
Class: Please pick a general class. You don’t have to follow it to the letter. Just as guidelines.
Job: What did they do before this, what non-combat skills do they have? Blacksmith, Tailor, carpenter, and huntsmen. Things like that
Appearance: A picture and a small description please
Personality: What’s going on inside there head
Motivation/Goals: What do they strive for?
Backstory: Who where they before all this.
Recent/ Current History: how did they get to where they are now?
Secrets: What are they hiding if they are hiding anything?
If you have trouble feeling things out here are some questions to ask yourself to help
If you have anymore questions just askThe Past:
1) Where was your character born and raised?
2) Who were your family or guardians? Siblings?
3) How did your “family” and upbringing influence your character’s childhood?
4) What had your character learned through education and childhood?
5) What major events and/or people growing up help shape your character?
6) What has your character done since growing up?
1) What has your character done recently prior to being “active” in the game?
2) What does your character actually “do” for a living?
3) How would your character explain it to a stranger if he/she had to?
4) What is your character’s present mental/emotional/physical state?
5) What is your character’s world view, beliefs and/or mindset?
7) What are your character’s quirks, merits, flaws and/or character traits?
8) What are your character’s likes/loves and dislikes/hates?
9) What does your character do well? Doesn’t do well?
10) What does your character do when “off the clock”?
11) How does your character speak (dialects, accents, etc.) to others?
12) Does your character use certain expressions or words, if any?
1) What are your character’s short term goals?
2) What are your character’s long term goals?
3) What motivates or drives your character?
4) How “social” will your character be when interacting with others, if at all?
5) How would you like your character to be remembered? Does it matter?
Current players and approved CS. (If you would like to join MSG me all that were in the interest check that said they were interested before this your accepted once you get a CS up and I approve it.)
Name: Keffon Mithk
Nickname: The Plague-bearer
Alignment: Very, VERY evil
Weapons: An assortment of small daggers
Other Equipment: A small collection of potions, and an Amulet pulsing with dark energy
Armor: Brown, tattered robe decorated with bones
Magic/Skills: Black magic, various necromantic curses and spells
Job: None, currently. Was once an apprentice to a powerful mage.
He stands about three feet tall, walks with a slight limp and is commonly seen hunched over.
Personality: Keffon is scheming, driven by his motives and possibly close to insane. He is very sensitive about his height, and usually responds to any remarks about it with magical fire.
Motivation/Goals: Domination and destruction of the kingdom. Having succeeded, he now works to mould and shape his new kingdom to his liking.
Backstory: Keffon was once a mere apprentice, studying underneath a few mages in a tower. His magical ambitions were heavily restricted, and he soon began practicing on his own. It didn't take long before he discovered the strength of Necromantic magics, and levelled the tower underneath waves and waves of undead. He fled, beginning his quest for the Amulet, and his upcoming conquest.
Secrets: Commanding legions of undead requires a lot of power, and the diminutive necromancer doesn't have nearly enough in his own body. He has a large crystal back in his castle, which houses and generates much of the magical power that he requires. If destroyed, the backlash could be rather dire...
Alignment:A misfit adventurer
Race: Dark Elf
Weapons: He has a bow, no enchantments, just an excellent shot. He also has two rather long daggers he uses for close range, as well as his natural agility and sneakiness.
Magic/Skills:He can talk to animals...Sort of. Sometimes he mixes up a few words like "Please can you help us." With another statement like, "Your mother was a turtle-sniffer."
He also has a large knowledge of natural herbs and medicines.
He is very good at sneaking and sticking to shadows.
Job: Zi'Asha was a huntsman before he joined the gang, he hunted for animals, and always thanked them when he killed one.
He also helped his village healer.
Appearance: He has blindingly white hair with yellow eyes. When he's talking to animals then his eyes glow, but only then. He has no mentionable scars or deformities. He does have his trademark scarf though, as seen in the picture that I did not draw.(I wish I could make stuff like that.)
Personality: Not a lot. He can be guilt-ridden every while due to something in his past. However, he's generally a kind man, he doesn't enjoy fighting, but lives with it to save everyone. He yearns to be a hero and gain recognition, he honestly is doing this for solely selfish reasons.
Backstory: Zi'Asha was a huntsmen before this, he belonged to a small family of three, in a small village of dark elves. It was him and his parents. His parents had fell ill and died when he was a teenager. They died of a disease that is rare and only found in the blood of Dark Elves, it is genetic and undetectable until they contract it. It's name is "The Zohan disease" After it's deceased founder.
After his parents died he went to live with the village healer where he learned all kinds of herbs and medicines, he lived there for years of his life, until one fateful day when his best friend invited him hunting (See Secrets). Zi'Asha quickly decided to join a band of misfits and take out the king. He wanted to right the wrong he had done, and being rich and famous didn't sound half bad.
Recent/ Current History: [See Backstory.]
Secrets: He accidentally murdered his best friend while hunting with him. He mistook his friend in the bush for an animal and fired. He hid the body. No one knows but him.Name: Adib
Class: Fighter/ Cleric
Weapons/ Magic: Any being, dead or undead, killed by his hand is immune to the Necromancer’s call and remains still. It is his weaponry, blessed by the Hidden Sect of Bulbarum, that allows him to cull the dead. His primary weapon is a maul -half hammer, half battleaxe- perfect for both crunching bone and cleaving flesh. He also carries an unassuming small, mining pick with the same property. This is best used to silence the dead before they are able to wake. He also carries a simple, regular shortbow and a dagger for hunting and skinning purposes.
Armor: An ornately etched metal helmet protects his crown and temples. It forms snugly to his head in the matter that only his kin can craft. Originally a mining cap, it is the only relic from his conquered home save his pick. A boiled-leather cuirass covers his chain shirt, adding protection to his torso and thighs. Steel-plated, leather gauntlets have cracked more than their fair share of zombie and skeleton teeth.
Job: Hunter of the undead though he earns gold as a metal smith and mine surveyor.
Standing at 4 ½ feet, Adib is unusually lithe for a dwarf. However, his 145 lb frame and low center of gravity are still formidably stocky. His beard isn't usually unkempt as compared to the norm for most of his brethren. This vanity perhaps has its origins in its blonde color—which is fairly uncommon in the dwarven race.
Personality: He’s rash, fierce, and stout of heart. It is the only way to keep courage while facing the hordes. Seldom can control himself and keep from breaking rank, compulsorily choosing to bowl head first into his foes. But it seems to work for him. However, he is cordial enough to those with a heartbeat.
Motivation/Goals: To turn the tide of the war against Keffon and the undead thus avenging his family and homeland. However, to cover up these true intentions, he feigns the role of a metal smith and surveryor. Keffon’s army needs metal to fashion swords and spears, and this cover-up often provides Adib with useful intelligence for pursuing his true ambitions.
Backstory: It all started when Adib was thirteen when Keffon led his undead army into the mountain. Adib was mining with his father when the Horn of Gronbar blew warning through its halls. Neither Adib nor his father had heard Gronbar’s Horn in their lifetimes, so they naturally thought it a young, dwarf prank. Once near the shaft’s entrance, they began to hearing the screams. A single-minded mass of bones and flesh poured conspicuously around a small, corroded looking figure. The citizens of Gronbar were hacked and slashed and bitten, their lifeless corpses trampled only to rise again and join in their murderers’ revelry. Tough Adib wished to join his people in the hopeless fight, his father bid him to retreat to the shaft. Survive. Maintain the family line, maybe the line of Gronbar itself. Survive. Adib’s rage subsided and he fled back into the mine shaft. He hid himself under some of the loose rubble around where he and his father had been working. Weak from hunger with breeches that were good and soiled, he was discovered. Priests of Bulbarum that had been tracking the rising evil that was Keffon came to survey the damage to Gronbar. No apparent survivors save one dwarf who would grow up to become one of their most efficient, brutal agents.
Recent/ Current History: Adib has hit a dead-end. All of his leads and potential metal barons turned out to be fruitless. He hopes that cover up strategy has not been foiled somewhere down the line. He is currently in the city of Tarnissus. He spends his nights in public houses and any clandestine meetings he can finagle his way into, trying to pick up on a new angle or scent to carry out his mission.
Secrets: He keeps his membership in Balbarum secret. The network of institutions that answer to Keffon have grown too large to trust anyone. Agents of Balbarum are subject to the full force of Keffon’s wrath and influence if exposed.
23 (at time of death)
Oak longbow, crossbow and a small dagger for rare melee battles
Heavy steel plate armour, covering a light chain mail armour for extra protection, though not needed as he prefers long range combat
His magical abilities are somewhat limited, however he has the willingness to learn how to perform it
Job: He was a soldier in the army before the Necromancer's attack
His face has very little flesh attached to it, and yet his skull is somehow able to hold itself high on his shoulders. During battle, pieces of his body are prone to falling off or detaching temporarily, but this can usually be undone by simply realigning the piece and forcing it back in to place, with the Necromancers' magic binding his body back together.
Before being turned undead, Ro was a gentle soul, kind and friendly, always around for a friend in need, never would he turn away somebody who sought his attention. But that's all changed now, he's quite the opposite, full of hatred and anger and pure malice, with the de re to kill anything living so strong it's almost overwhelming...but perhaps somewhere, deep down, his old self lies hidden away, waiting for the right person to help bring it back to the surface.
World dominance, clearly.
Ronan was a soldier in the army, positioned as an archer in the ranks of soldiers. His life was really nothing special, he grew up, was put through simple schooling, helped his father in his blacksmiths' forge every now and again, and eventually joined up to serve the royal legion. He eventually married and had a son whom he cherished and swore to protect till his dying breath, a promise he had no idea he'd one day be fulfilling. Ro served the legion for many years, signing up when he was 16 and living life as a soldier ever since, never looking back. On the odd occasion he was sent away for a few days to various camps around the country, to help out where fellow soldiers were short of men, but he was never away too long before he returned.
It was while he was on leave the attack came. Out of nowhere, it surprised everybody, sudden intrusion that had hordes of skeletons and undead beasts charging through giant holes in the city walls, slicing up every living thing in their wake. Ro his his family best he could before donning his armour and charging out to meet the oncoming storm, along with the rest of the legion. Being an archer, he fled to higher ground and took out whatever he could set his sights on, sometimes scoring a lethal hit but otherwise not doing too much damage to the wave of creatures tearing through the city. In this instance his skills at long range were less helpful than ever before and, being short of men down below, he took up a nearby sword and made his way toward the outnumbered human army.
What little of the human force remained made some progress in cutting down the undead army, many beings fell at their hand and Ro was surprised that he could handle a sword this well, always having preferred the bow and arrow. He roared with triumph with every satisfying kill, watching as the animated corpses fell in to a pile of ash and bone and flesh at his feet. But their small victory was short lived, the men he had joined, as well as himself, were soon cut down by the mass of undead, their bodies falling to the floor in a bloodied mess where they lay for some time, getting trodden on and stomped all citizens fled for their lives.
All was not lost for Ro, however. The Necromancer, Keffon apparently saw potential in him, perhaps took a liking to his strong will and adaptability in battle, or maybe there was something else that struck him about Ronan. Nevertheless, the Necromancer resurrected him and announced he would become a lieutenant in his army and help him conquer the world with his undead forces. The resurrection took its' toll on Ronans' body, the basis of his skeleton and muscle had reformed, but his flesh had not, leaving him a bare skeleton with varying dark red tissue clinging to him in places. This gruesome sight was useful in intimidating enemies, and so Ro didn't mind not having his body back. His soul was also damaged, the goodness ripped away from it and replaced with nothing but cold hearted darkness that Keffon had placed there to keep him a loyal soldier. With mostcof his living memories gone though, Ro has little idea of who he was before, and thinks this hatred and anger is all he's ever felt.
Now, he stands by Keffons' side in the crumbling ruins of the world, awaiting the moves of any adventurers who dare stand up to his almighty force.
The location of his family. Somewhere, locked away in his deepest memories, he knows where is family is, perhaps alive and well and hiding with fellow survivors.Name: Etell Kimar
Nickname: The Ghost Firebreather
Alignment: Liutenant - Chaotic/Evil
Race: Zombie human
Magic/skills: A variety of fire spells like fireballs, setting his whip on fire and casting fire out of his mouth, as well as more complicated stuff like casting a circle of fire to trap enemies and heating the air in a certain area.
Job: Used to be a Potion shop owner.
Personality: He was timid and quiet when he was alive. Now he behaves like an homicidal maniac.
Motivation/goals: Destroying all sentient life.
Etell was born in Jernah, a small village far away from any other, as a single child. His father was a carpenter and his mother a housewife. Life in Jernah was simple: people hunted in the woods and tilled the land to eat and the most fun you could get was getting drunk at the local tavern. As a kid he liked to go into the woods to play alone. He saw beauty in nature: the smell of flowers, the touch of trees, the sun's light blinding his eyes... Etell spent most of his childhood climbing trees and chasing squirrels. He didn't always managed to catch an animal, but when he did he liked to make the most of the moment, because his parents had told him many times not to bring wild animals home.
One time caught a small white rabbit he sat on a tree's root and caressed its fur, just like he had done other times before with other small animals. He grinned at how the rabbit's ears twitched with every stroke, its big red eyes bewitched him and the sensation of its flesh and bones underneath the skin gave Etell a thirst-like feeling inside. He began to stroke the animal stronger and faster each time, and the rabbit began to emit small growls as it tried to fight back. Etell then held his hand around its neck to prevent it from escaping as the rabbit kicked and scratched, letting out sounds that Etell had never heard before. Desperate sounds that made him shiver and salivate. With his eyes wide open he clenched his hand down on the small rabbit's neck, and after a few seconds it stopped moving. Etell sat there, looking at the cold, dead animal lying on his legs for a long time.
He cried at how beautiful it all was.
From that on he kept dead animals hidden in his room. Whenever he felt down or someone picked on him he'd go to his room and look at the dead bodies. He was careful about it and knew when the bodies would begin to stink, so he had to dispose of them and go kill more. His parents never found out about it.
When he was a teen his parents decided to go to the city. Being in a small town was doing no good to his father's business, so they moved to the city of Kretel. They also hoped the change would help their son's antisocial behavior. Surprisingly it did, as Etell met an beautiful elf girl named Aleena. She also liked nature and they both went for walks in the forest together. Slowly but surely Etell forgot his desire to kill animals, and he fell in love with Aleena in the process.
They got married when Etell was 20 years old, and they took over Aleenas father's Potion store. It wasn't on the best part of town, but it was a successful business. The store was on the first floor while on the second floor was the rest of the house. 4 years later Aleena gave birth to a girl, and Etell couldn't be any happier. They named her Enima.
One night, after Etell locked the shop's door and went upstairs to sleep, he was surprised by a mysterious sensation. He stopped right there and reached his hand to his back, feeling a liquid like substance, and after looking at his hand he discovered it was blood. Etell had been stabbed by a poisoned blade. He passed out on the wooden floor and regained consciousness after what seemed to be an eternity in a drugged state. He was now lying on his bedroom's floor, and a voice was whispering to him "look, look, look, look..." the poison was making him dizzy, but he slowly made out what was going around him. Most of his body was numb but he could see that someone's arm was reaching to his head, probably grabbing his hair and making him look at the bed, where he could see two men taking turns to rape Aleena. Her screams echoed inside his head and he tried to move or shout, but it was like it wasn't his body anymore, like it was someone else's entirely. The poison would kill him soon, and after the robbers had set fire to the house and left Etell understood something. Something that had been hinted to him as the last bandit chocked his wife to death as he raped her in front of him. He saw the eyes of a certain small rabbit he hadn't remembered in a long time in his wife's eyes.
When he heard his daughter in another room being burnt to death in her cot he understood.
When the flames devoured his wife's lifeless corpse he understood.
When the fire slowly crept on his body and claimed it its own he understood.
He had made a terrible mistake by forgetting his true nature. Etell cursed the gods and claimed he'd have revenge on their creations with his last breath. That day the flames not only took over his body but his heart, and they are what feed his rage nowadays.
During The Necromancer's advance through the land he launched an attack to the city of Kretel, and one of the corpses that arose from the ground began to devastate everything around it with fire. It came to his attention, and the zombie was captured. Etell's immense desire to kill everything living as well as his powers were noteworthy. The Necromancer used his magic to make him a self-aware zombie, as well as to increase Etell's powers. His body was restored and he was given proper equipment. He was then deployed into combat to see what he was capable of. Etell did so well in combat he was given the nickname of "The Ghost Firebreather" by the living, because of his obsession with flying around like a ghost and setting everything on fire. The Necromancer soon used him to lead some of his troops, making him a liutenant.
Secrets: His backstory
Name: Alastor Ahrimin
Age:22 currently living Doesn’t age, 22 when he died (going to happen asap)
Gender: Changes, Default male
Race: Spirit, Ghost, Wraith (However you would like to call it)
Alignment: Chaotic Evil/ Undead lieutenant
Demeanor: Cryptic, erratic and unstable
Eyes: Changing, Default Red
Hair: Changes length and style, but is always a bright red
Build: Always Changes/
Attire: Always Changes
Weapons: He wields small blades on each of his fingers that are poisoned with hallucinogenic's, that cause whoever is struck to slowly become engulfed in there own fears. He also wields a great sword.
Magic/Skills:He has the power of shape-shifting, and the Ability to phase through walls.
He is a cold,heartless,grim determined person. He does not smile often and does not say much to anyone, but those he considers friends all else are just in his way. Though if you are his friend he is a nice person who will always have your back never letting you down. In a social environment he may talk often it might be shor.t it might be long but it is hardly ever sweet. What he has to say is always blunt mean and honest his language is not that well either cursing often and drinking. When drinking or drunk he can go two ways sometimes he is the friendliest person at other times he is a mean angry drunk fighting all around him. This is the normal, personality or most of his illusion’s, although he is a very unstable spirit this is subject to change.
Likes: alcohol, friends, family and fighting.
Strengths: Drinking, and fighting drunk
Weaknesses: Drinking, and starting fights he cant win.
Habits: Drinking, and throwing a fit
SpoilerBackstory: Reve had begun his life as an innocent boy, just like most of the kids in the kingdom. As he neared his teenage years he got called into duty by the king. Trained and tasked with the duty of clearing out a viscous group of orcs. His group contained a hundred of them when they had entered the forest. It had been an ambush, they came from everywhere there dark green tanned skin blended so well with the leaves that it seemed if the orcs had stepped right out of the land itself. Reve had barely raised his sword when his four friends around him fell with arrows sprouting from there skin. Their blood spilling out, splattering all over him and the world going black. When he woke he was covered in blood and holding a giant sword he had never seen before, 50 miles away standing on the steps of a castle. It was here that he had come into his new profession, he is not sure how the torturing started or how he came to like it. Though he knows how the drinking started, it was the same time the nightmares started.
He had only been doing this for a few years when the king came to out an end to the lords evil ways, wiping out the small noble lords castle in a matter of minutes. Reve had stood his ground in the torture chambers killing soldier after soldier, wielding his great sword with great furry. Eventually Reve fell with anger in his heart. Only to raise that night as a vengeful spirit, wielding his great sword and magic that he never knew he had. Creating illusions, and revealing the fears of the soldiers. That night he slaughtered the whole army one by one he lured them out killing them, or caused them go insane and kill themselves. This is where he was when the necromancer found him haunting the ruins of a castle.
Recent/ Current History: The necromancer released him from his mindless anger, and entrapped him in servitude. Reve was grateful, he was finally released and able to do what he pleased as long as it didn't cross his new master. He currently tortures the body and minds of those that displease his new master.
Secrets: Reve is rather fond of shiny trinkets and values them above all else.