Today is the 5th day of the second trimester of the 247th year. The skies above the capital of Tholmhaven are clear as the bustling city sparwls with life, even under the heat of the scorching noon sun. Airships come and go with cargo, ferrying supplies from one end of the city to the other. The walls to keep the mighty city protected from pirates and dust storms are almost complete, and every citizen has their minds at ease from the worries of the outside. Most of them were born within the safety of the walls that were still being constructed at the time, but even the old generations shed a tear over the accomplishment of this mighty task.

The clock hits thirteen and the construction crews go to rest as the sound of the loudspeakers announce that the workday is halted until the heat disspiates. At these times, nobody is allowed on the streets in fear of dehydration. But the loudspeakers don't stop, and are soon broadcasting the sound of sirens. Eyes turn towards the skies in confusion to see the cause of this alarm. They can already hear the first shots and see the long shadows crawling closer as the mighty airships inch over the walls. The AA guns fire at the intruders, but most of the guards went to take a break. After all, there hasn't been an attack in forever.

The gunfire lasts for hours and explosions fill the skies, both from the flak guns and the airships. But in the end, the flagship of the enemy fleet and it's escorts come out of the battle wounded, but not downed. Banners of an unknown authority hang over them as they make their way towards the central airship docks. Eyes filled with fear and anxiety follow these unknown invaders as they make their way through the skies above. In a matter of minutes, the city that was thought impervious was taken by ships never before seen.

---

A new era of human civilization. Not one of futuristic advances and the conquering of the solar system, but one of reclamation. It has been 247 years since an event nobody can remember anymore turned our world into a wasteland. Yet, civilization prevailed in protected pockets of cities and settlements. And with them, our greed and ambition for power prevailed too.

The mistakes of the old world haunt us to this day. We extract the salt from the old seafloor and sell it for various uses. We bore deep below the crust of the earth to get some much needed drinking water. Vast fields of oil drills darken the skies with their fumes as they pump out crude oil in vast quantities to fuel the machines of war that roam the skies. Well, not all of them are meant for war, but when every border we once had has been erased and no central authority governs over country sized areas, who will refuse the temptation to take things by force?

Still, we endure. Under the protective gaze of cities like Tolmhaven that organize trade, construct airships and connect to the smaller settlements together, we strive to make our lives better and protect ourselves from the lunatics who still believe that they can take everything by force. To this end, the busy skies are always filled with mercenaries who tend to jobs of various kinds. They tend to the rogue pirates and get paid by the city's authority, or carry precious supplies from various points and get a fat reward from merchant guilds. Some even set out to explore the wastes and hope to uncover riches from our past that would make them rich. Though as Tolmhaven grew and took many of these responsibilities in it's own hand, with it's fall the age of mercenaries once again returns to our lands.

---

Goodie! What a long introduction! My fingers run fast from the long hiatus where I strayed from making RPs. In case you didn't want to or couldn't decipher the Intro, I am here to give you teh full details now that the context is set.

In this RP, you and I will play as the crew of a mercenary ship, commanded by yours truly. Thought we have established the town of Tholmhaven already, that won't be our starting location. That will be kept secret until the OC to make it interesting and keep you curious. (though you may ask me in a DM if you need it for the character. We will take on various missions to fill our pockets with money and make a living in the harsh lands. And if by chacne our lust for gold is quenched, and we find ourselves listening to our conscience wanting to deal with the main story, we might even help the folks of the land troubled by this unknown menace and the well-known pirates. But I can guarantee you one thing: along the way we will find a vast variety of wonders and weird encounters that will never leave you bored.

This isn't a wargame RP! I play my RPs like I play my DnD sessions: player creativity is everything, so I enjoy weird and wacky impromptu situations more than well laid out plans executed perfectly. Now, if you like the latter, that doesn't mean this RP isn't for you. Quite the contrary! I'm sure you'll find much amusement in the fact that I usually put several hours planning out my RPs before I write even a single character into a post.

As always, I am looking for people who have dedication. As long as the RP keeps rolling, even if slow, you won't hear a grumble from me about being active (Alright, maybe a bit). The crew will be around 3-5 people with decent writing skills. I won't tell you how many paragraphs you will need to write, since that seems like a stupid rule when everyone in advanced will surely write me half a novel if they are enjoying themselves. In case of more players applying than that, we will come to a resolution that is good for everyone, so don't eb afraid that you might get left out.

And that's it. What is it you ask? "Is that really it?" Well, what else do you need to know? You already know the main plot and what your character will do, and I'm sure you'll ask all your burning questions in the OOC anyways! Let's not tarry any longer then, and get to making your character, so we can talk that much faster!

No, wait, I beg your pardon. The rules! We forgot about those damnable rules. Who needs them anyways, right? Not me, that's for sure. But still, we must uphold some manner of professionalism when writing a post. So here is my self proclaimed "List of The Awesomely Self Explanatory Dos and Don'ts" _tm.

Rule One: No Godmodding. Don't control otehr characters unless they are NPCs made by you, or you have explicit permission.
Rule Duo: No Metagaming. Same sin as Godmodding in my book.
Rule Tres: As laid back as I am and allow player freedom, I am still the GM. Hopefully I will never have to refer to this during the entire campaign.
Rule четыре: I am chill. Very chill. So if you manage to upset me somehow, know that you probably did something horribly wrong. Like breaking one of the previous rules.

---

Alright, I just remembered something new actually! My bad. But it's appropriate for characters so let's put it here!

We all love the tought and grumpy war eveteran or mercenary who was neevr done anything their lives but fight, the outcast kid who is the master of martial arts or the shy girl with amazing talents, and while they certainly aren't bad character archetypes, in this RP they will find little love from me. I am looknig for believable human beings that aren't just fabricated depth with "stern exterior, but soft inside", but beings with feeling, preferences and backstories that make you cry rivers at times. Anything goes, you can even put yourself into the RP. The job of a mercenary might be dangerous, but the fat monetary rewards attract all sorts of folk to crew the ships.

Alright, let's begin.

Full name: Your characters name. Take your time making something authentic or exotic sounding.
Gender: I swear, if you write Apache Attack Helicopter I will roll my "D20 of Malicious Surpises". Not to be mistaken with my "D20 of Malicious Intents" or "D20 of Rolling D20".
Age: duh
Physical description: Height, weight, visible scars, that one spot of skin that you keep scratching but you can never quite releive the urge. If you have a picture, even better. But anything you can't see on the picture should still be written down.
Personality: This is a finnicky subject I always find to be either broken, or abided by to an extent that sorta ruins the feel for the RP. So how about we keep it very simple, and write down only things others will be able to see. If your character always sounds means, has some weird quirk when talking, or just simply frowns even when happy, write it down. Your inner demons can be discovered when we are doing the RP.
Backstory: Similar to Personality, you can decide if you want to detail the entire life of your character, or keep it relatively simple until you fill out the details on the fly. Get it? Fly?
Description: "Hey GM, what is this?" You may ask, so let me enlighten you. Your occupation, a general description to act as a cheat sheet, and details, hobbies or misc stuff comes here. This is the page I will undoubtedly look to when I am confused about your character, so write anything here as lnog as it is informative.
Skills: Much like the Description, this is here to allow you to expand upon your character. What is he/she good at? Doesn't need to be all that relevant, if you can make one hell of a curry I will appreciate it too.
Quirks: The opposite of skills. Anything you wish for others to know that your character sucks at.
Other: If somehow the Description wasn't enough for a quirk of your character, or you want to write down your family tree, the breakfast you had this morning in case you want people to make a joke about how you smell, or your favourite Ed Sheeran music (Shape of you) then it can come here. Otherwise, you can delete this.

And here it is in BBcode formatting without my weird and desperately trying to be entertaining explanations:

[b]Full name:[/b]
[b]Gender:[/b]
[b]Age:[/b]
[b]Physical description:[/b]
[b]Personality:[/b]
[b]Backstory:[/b]
[b]Description:[/b]
[b]Skills:[/b]
[b]Quirks:[/b]
[b]Other:[/b]

Or if you are extremely fancy and want to be the GM's little favourite even before we start, you can try my personal format:

[center]
[h1]//name here//[/h1]
[img]//image here//[/img]
[b]FULL NAME:[/b]
[b]GENDER:[/b]
[b]AGE:[/b]
[b]PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION:[/b]
[b]PERSONALITY:[/b]
[b]BACKSTORY:[/b]
[b]DESCRIPTION:[/b]
[b]SKILLS:[/b]
[b]QUIRKS:[/b]
[b]OTHER:[/b]
[/center]

That is all my friends! I hope you had at least a few laughs as I tried my best to brighten the mood. One more thing before you type away below. As usual, I made a Discord for the RP, which you can join if you click the image I attached below.

That is all! I hope I'll see you around and have a good day!

First~

Full name: Maurice Pfeifer.
Gender: Male.
Age: 29.
Physical description: 1.70 meters tall, 120lbs. Black-haired, worn medium-short and unkempt, with a full beard about 5 cm long. Crooked, aquiline nose, and dark, brown eyes.



Personality: A practical man, always restless and looking for something to busy himself with. Never seems to be alone, and has that general attitude so common among wastelanders, one tough cookie.

Backstory:

Maurice was born in a water mining outpost, deep in the wasteland. The outpost was built on top of a sizeable aquifer, deep within an expansive cavern system that required the miners to delve into the underground to operate the machinery needed to pump the water out to the surface, where it could be loaded onto airships.

It was a tough living, but it was a living. From an early age, he and the other children of the settlement would help around the mine, taking tools, food, and supplies down to the uppermost levels of the complex. It was expensive machinery, and temperamental, too. Leaks and breakages were common, and as Maurice grew, he realized that theft was too.

It was lucrative business for men to 'overlook' some leaks, and to stash away the losses to be sold on the side, for a profit. As Maurice grew, so did the problem, and soon the overseers of the mine saw fit to double their security.

A militia of sorts was levied, and Maurice proved a natural with a rifle. He avoided his father's underpaid wages and meager living, and took on a gun and a mean attitude.

But the Dims were few and the shifts were long. Maurice soon found himself involved in the very practices he was meant to oppose. He and a few others from the watch were approached by an agent interested in acquiring the cargo from a convoy, at a discount.

Maurice and his fellows were assigned to the convoy, in a rather 'fortunate' turn of events. The pay was very good, and no one aboard the Class C vessel expected their own guards to be in on it. The crew weren't willing to die for a few thousand gallons of water.

Piracy suited them, somewhat. They knew where the pipes were, they knew the routes the airships took, and they knew what guns they carried. For a while, it worked out.

Until it didn't. The outposts stepped up their game, they hired tighter crews, professional security. It soon cost more to make a raid than it did to purchase legally. So their employers ended their agreement.

Maurice got his pay, and tried to enjoy it in peace. But a warning came to him one day. One of the men from his former gang appeared at his doorstep, unnerved to the core. The men they had cheated were after them, with a vengeance.

With a head start, Maurice managed to set out once again and sold most his belongings to purchase some equipment. But it became obvious he wouldn't get far, not in a world so dangerous, where any one man with a gun could make a quick Dis by putting a bullet in his skull.

But he had skills, and the fall of Tholmhaven had given rise to men who just might need those skills... and so, with a dust storm raging strong all around, alone in a rusted skyport, with little but a rifle and some spare clothes, Maurice boarded the first ship that would take him.

Description: Maurice was a water miner, men who delve deep underground in claustrophobic conditions, to operate and repair heavy machinery known to be as deadly as it is expensive. He's spent most of his life in danger, and is well used to the pressure of life-threatening situations. Having served as an armed guard in the wastes soon after, he's also no stranger to firefights, or airships, for that matter.

He's something of a short fellow, a product of the cramped tunnels and poor nutrition of his birthplace, but is quick and agile, even in tight places where other men would be reduced to a crawl.

Back home, in his free time he hunted and played cards to pass the time. He wasn't very good at either.

Skills: He's a fair shot with a rifle, and strong from having spent a lifetime working the water mines. He's well used to running in cramped spaces, and his short stature makes it easy for him. The heat of the wasteland doesn't bother him as much as it might do to others, given he's accustomed to the sweltering temperatures underground.

He's also familiar with the layout of the land around his hometown, having spent several years traversing the wasteland as a convoy guard.

Quirks: He's very much not fond of the sunlight, or crowds. Open spaces and idleness make him nervous. Silence is nearly unbearable.
Other: He really likes omelettes. Like a lot.

FULL NAME: Solomon Rosamond Burroughs

GENDER: Apache Attack Helicopter
Male

AGE: 59

PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION: Standing at 6 foot 1, weighing in at 80 kilograms, tick/twitch in his left eye, increasing during times of intense focus or distress. A giant wall of domitable muscle from countless years of physical training as a poor coping mechanism.

PERSONALITY: Soft spoken, and always with a kind word, Solomon prides himself on his bed-side manner as much as he does his intelligence. Always quick with a smile, a laugh, or an inspiring quote or tale, good ol' Solomon loves to help ease the burdens that come with life of others around him. But when his increasingly prevalent memory loss is noted and he realises, tends to squirrel away and become reclusive and quiet. Hates violence with a passion.

BACKSTORY: {This will be filled in more as it comes to me} Coming from a long line of Doctors and medical personnel, Solomon was no different, and never had any interest in deviating from this track. Was largely a bookworm at first, and once he felt he was smart enough, began wandering hospital to hospital to provide his help and expertise, the only cost a meal, a drink, and a story. Has been floating around helping everyone he can ever since.

During his journey, he did settle down for one small brief moment of happiness. But after a tough and uncaring universe wrested it from him, he took to voiding his pain and emotions with exercise. This led to him becoming much larger and more muscular than many of his peers or people around him. His nickname became 'Buff Solomon' as a result, since his body shape was in such a drastic juxtaposition to his age and profession.

DESCRIPTION: An old doctor, riddled with experience, and wracked by early onset dementia. Despite his age, his hands are always steady, and his mind is always on the job at hand. His spare time is spent looking over bodily diagrams, or reading a book, or maintaining his extensive exercise regime. That is, if he hasn't found someone to sit down with and have a good talk to, or some children to regale with incredible stories.

SKILLS: High level of intelligence RE: Anatomy and medical application. A calming bedside demeanor. Ability to not shut up. An approximate knowledge on many things, owing to experience. Physically jacked with muscle, but refuses to attack anyone with it, in fear of hurting them.

QUIRKS: Often forgets small things, and occasionally bigger life events. Not hyper mobile, and requires a walking cane to get around with. Always has to carry his equipment in a suitcase, no matter how much of an inconvenience it is. Abhors violence and will never participate in it.

OTHER: Has a love of old timey music and books, likes the colour Orange, and the smell of fresh coffee.

Hopefully this is good enough :)

After some review, it turns out that I am not as interested in this RP as I thought I was.

I hope the rest of you have fun, though; I like you guys and your characters!