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For your crimes, you have been sentenced to the Stone: an enormous and ancient castle where only the worst criminals are condemned. It is popularly believed that within the Stone resides an Old God who feeds on the life energy of the condemned and grants peace to the kingdoms in return. You're shut into one of a thousand stone coffins and are put to sleep by a silent gas, never to be heard from again.

When you wake up, the lid of the coffin is cracked open and the Stone is in ruin. You're starving, there's no water to be found and no way of knowing how long it's been since you were locked away. There are creatures in the shadows that you've never seen before, strange lights and plantlife, and someone somewhere is singing.

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You could try to find your way back to civilization, if there is any left. You could investigate what happened that woke you up. You could decide to turn the world back to the way it was; eradicate these strange creatures or befriend them; or you could collect power and call the Stone your new stronghold from which to wage war. The choices and decisions are up to you how this story will proceed -- but rest assured there is an underlying story that will unfold in different ways depending on what the characters do.

Be prepared to drive the plot at times. I will present important decisions, but it is up to your character to make them. The fact that there are so many routes to take means that the characters might end up splitting up quite a bit -- that means you might end up writing 1x1 with the GM for awhile.

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This setting is a freeform fantasy/steampunk world. I imagine the characters probably all came from a steampunk city, not necessarily the same place -- but the Stone is located in mountainous wilderness where there are giants and ogres and rumors of dragons. The interior of the Stone is equal parts steampunk and whimsical fantasy.

It's easy to assume this will be a dark and gritty RP, and at times you might be right -- but there will be a definite sense of humor and color, perhaps some ridiculous situations you might find yourself in. If you like doom and gloom all the time, this is not the RP for you.

NAME: Romulus "Salacious" Wisher

ABSTRACT: Mad Actor Tainted by Evil

DETAIL: Romulus was raised in a well adjusted middle class family. His father worked hard, his mother and siblings all loved one another and everything was generally GOOD. Romulus had a mind for the fantastic from an early age, and especially loved the stories told in local taverns. Whenever the troubador or traveling actors troupe would stop by his home village he was front and center, eyes affixed to the stage. And so he decided to abandon a life of toil in agricultural work and fled for the nearby city of Rock Bridge when he was 12 years old.

In Rock Bridge, Romulus quickly fell in with an acting company doing small jobs around the theatre for free. He learned what he could and over the years ingratiated himself enough with the company to actually get some stage time. He made a little money, bought a few books, borrowed some manuscripts and plays, and taught himself the trade. He flourished under the guidance of various actors; Romulus soon began to realize his silver tongue could win over not just audiences, but individuals, and that gave him power to manipulate and control. Romulus flourished first in Rock Bridge, and then the larger cities in the kingdom.

Taking the stage name Wisher, Romulus gained notoriety performing one-man versions of popular plays of the time, some scandulous, some political satire that landed him in hot water for a time. He wrote a few plays himself but nothing ever caught on. He peaked and began to fade as new acts made the rounds and his name was slowly forgotten...At age 28 Romulus had hit rock bottom. He decided to travel.

He traveled for many years, to distant lands and places. He drank, he fought and loved. He killed once, but in self-defense. He disappeared. He returned once to Rock Bridge but all of his old friends were dead or in prison and the old theatre had long ago burned to the ground. He searched for his home village, but could not remember what it was called. He traveled for many more years.

At the edge of a forest, near a mountain peaked with grey snow, Romulus fell into a pit one night. Fumbling around in the darkness, clothing in tatters, grey beard and withered soul, Romulus found a door. It was very old, covered in runes around the molding. The old oak beams had long ago been smashed in, and this revealed a tunnel. Romulus entered the darkness.

He awoke later, near a town he remembered passing a few days prior, his clothes were still ragged, his beard and hair thin and matted. But his soul...felt...young again. He found in his possession a small black book containing a play he had never heard of before called The **** and ***** of *****. It was a very thin book, of common print paper. No author listed, no publisher. The first page simply began: ACT I, Scene I.

The play so enthralled Romulus he read it cover to cover wandering around the small town. Every line a masterpiece. Every scene perfection. Each character seemed to speak to him personally, pulling some misunderstood fragment of his own strange life to the foreground, revealing for him the truths those pieces truly held. He became enamored of the piece and could not wait to reveal the genius hereto within contained to a new audience.

He found himself at the local tavern and suggested to the barkeep he give a read of a masterful new play he had written for a drink or two (...I was an actor once you know...long ago..). The bar keep agreed and the townsfolk gathered around the fire and this strange old man who wanted to entertain them for the evening.

And so Romulus began. He poured his heart into that play. Each line, each refrain. Romulus had read it only once, could feel the heart of the story in his tongue, his bony fingers. His soul laid bare for those strangers for an hour, maybe six. He began to wheeze and cough. His mouth was dry. His throat burning with the fire of the sun; And then he was finished, panting, laying prone on the floor. Coughs shook his body. And there was.....silence. The townsfolk began to murmur. "Get on with it you crazy bastard..."

Months went by. Each time Romulus attempted to perform the strange play it was as if the audience heard not a word. Furthermore, he discovered the time it took (about 2 1/2 hours) to recite the damn thing seemed to not exist. At least not for the audience. Whenever Romulus attempted to talk to someone about the play, even mention the title they seemed to not understand, or act as if he had not been talking. It was as if Romulus was the only person in the world who knew of it's existence, or ever would.

And it destroyed him. It was not long before drink and anger, sadness and disparity began to tear the mans psyche to pieces. His infatuation for the play only deepened, only widened the gulf between reality and himself. He got violent. Really violent. He was caught during the third one. Imprisoned. Sentenced. Sent to the Stone.

But he managed to hold onto the book...

Adamar

"I will not repent. I will survive."

At 5'10", Adamar's lack of height is made up for by his eerie presence. All of his body is obscured by robes and gauze except for his face, which is guarded by a blank mask of bronze. His build is impossible to discern underneath all of his heavy clothing.

Age
28
Sex
Male

Personality
Neutral Evil
Adamar is by no means cruel, sinister, or diabolic. He is called evil by others mostly because of the nature of his existence. Adamar was fully aware of the blasphemy of his eventual transformation into an undead creature. However, he seeks no atonement for his actions. Outside of being a neutral voice in the matters of his companions, he cares not for their well-being. Adamar only seeks to preserve his own unlife, and will gladly do so even if it requires the expense of allies. However, those who he deems highly useful will see an equal amount of utility from him towards their efforts.

Biography / History
Adamar was a court witch for the king of the realm he lived in. However, his king was by no means benevolent. An oppressive tyrant, his majesty set only the highest taxes upon his subjects, and ordered the beheading of all that opposed him. Adamar was smart enough to not deny any demand made of him, which for the most part was simply to impart knowledge and advice of the supernatural, enchant items, or entertain with visually appealing spells. Occasionally, more specific needs were called for, but for the most part Adamar lived rather well by serving his king, despite being a witch.

One day, his majesty called Adamar for a very unique request. Upon his arrival, Adamar learned of the king's desires for immorality, so that he might rule the lands for the rest of time. Such a tall order required years of research, practice and preparation. This was a condition that Adamar make very clear before getting to work.

Eventually, Adamar was ready. He approached his majesty in private to inform him of his progress, and arranged a time to perform the ritual. In a horrible turn of events, the ritual failed, and the king was now dead. Fearing for his own life, Adamar decided to try the ritual himself, so that he may survive any repercussions with a well-hidden phylactery.After several hours of careful incantation, Adamar had completed the ritual correctly upon himself. Although the process itself would take years to fully mature, he had given himself a safety-net of sorts. In the event that he did die, he would one day rise as a lich.

Unfortunately, before he could escape to recluse, he was captured by the royal guard. He was not afraid of execution, hiding the fact that he would one day rise again from the kingdom's remaining government. However, to his dismay, he was instead sent to The Stone. To them, it was simply a fate crueler than death. To Adamar, it meant a literal eternity locked in the horrid dungeon, instead of passing from age or disease, or being slain by some monster.