Name: Person McName
Title: The Example
Age: Newborn Baby
Appearance:

Person is a male bipedal hominin with no defining characteristics and is completely broke

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Personality and Background Information:

Person is jealous, easily angered, and is at a cross with his creator. His fury stems from his brief birth for the single purpose of being an example for actual players… etc Please include at least three personality traits to help you characterize your character (I.E Cheerful, Nihilist, Contrarian)

So you want to visit Pertovia, do you? Of course you don’t, you live there! -- but in case you’ve forgotten the key points about the dusky old island, let me remind you…

… it isn’t a well kept secret that while most of the land’s inhabitants had given up on building a proper civilization out of fear of the Filth, there is a few smatterings of what may be called ‘cities’ or at least glorified refuges that have historically either held off the Filth adequately enough or rebuilt themselves fast enough to still exist. The three most important to know is the refuge of Illistair -- City of high walls and angry people, Jornorston -- Refuge of questionable religion and a strange lack of Filth (The obvious kind), and Kendles -- The damned town, where life is short but as fulfilling as you may get in these dark times.

In case your forgot your manners after you left your mother’s camp, the Pertovians do have a set of dieties that have trickled down through the ages thanks to oral tradition and the rare leaflet. While there may be more, including regional dieties, the most common are The Four:

Teid the All: said to be the creator of the world and the other gods and the most contradicted in mythologies -- as some say they were slain by the other gods, others say they rule over the other gods, but most wonder what they did to deserve a world like this.

Parrel the Queen or Steward: depending on how you feel about Teid being dead (if anything at all), Parrel is either the Queen or the Steward, patron of health and care. She is said to look after your home and your family -- but the eagle eyed cynic may question this when observing the Filth. Self proclaimed practitioners of medicine often swear by her, and she is said to swear by their concoctions.

Ligdon the Wild: Ligdon is a mixed bag, just like the other gods of this pantheon. He is the caretaker of the wilds, as well as the proctor of virtue and other good moral qualities. He is the lord of the brave and right hand of the hunter. According to some, he and he alone is guiding the faithful through these most horrid times; often charms are made in his name to help fend off the filth or protect hidden caches… in some ways his name is a beacon in the dark. However there is a dark side to his coin: it is a resounding myth that during one drunken night after the largest hunt ever commissioned, he had become inebriated with lust and forced himself upon Parrel, bringing us to our last god.

Oorick the Hated: Pertovians are rather honest, and this Gods name says all. Oorick is the bastard spawn of Ligdon and Parrel as well as the harbinger of moral corruption and tragedies. Often depicted as a bubbling mass of everything that should never have been born, Oorick is often the target of everyone's hate.

As expected, having these four gods as your top of the line administration is rather depressing, but so is Pertovia right now -- I think that is the most important detail to keep in mind right there when visiting -- or rather living there.

Let’s cover one final thing regarding Pertovia: Law. There is none… but that doesn’t mean you can just do anything you want! While there is no official law, there are expectations and they are exactly what you think they are. That said, those large enduring settlements may have a thing or two to say if you break one of their expectations, so be mindful of where you are and look for bylaws -- which is a pain since most of you if not all of you can’t read, and hardly any of them are writing.

Q: Wait, if there are four of us and four crowns, who is the main protagonist and who is the de jure ruler to be?
A: All of you are the protagonists and as far as government is concerned, you figure it out.

Q:How do we start?
A: Well, you recently stumbled across an ancient crown, marking you for death by Filth or renown by creating a civilization and unlocking the past. Take that, run with it and if you get stuck -- there are three others running around with crowns, that’s a talking point. If you are still stuck, well there is always me.

Q’s the mood of these RP, you’re acting pretty silly in the OP
A: It’s a rather serious RP oddly enough, with a lot of underbelly themes and impacting points. That is not to say a little light heartedness or wholesomeness in the face of abyssal darkness isn’t appreciated, but try to keep it reasonable to the theme.

Q:Is there magic?
A: How about you start digging up the past and figure it out on your own? There is plenty of ancient ruins and structures -- artifacts aplenty.

Q:Okay, but can my character use magic?
A: Maybe, but definitely not right now.

Q: Wait, if reading is rare -- how do you expect us to do any studying about the past?
A: You’ll figure it out.

Q: Can characters die?
A: Yes, but hopefully this won’t be a character death fest. That said, it’s best not to suspend belief so plot smart.

Q:So what sort of player are you looking for?
A: One willing to write a story for quite some time, put in some good posts and to be interactive with the world around them. There is a lot to uncover and really our story can go anywhere from here. If you are reading this, please put your characters most memorable moment at the bottom of their CS.

Name: Gerick
Title: The Grey
Age: 24

Appearance:
Gerick stands at a respectable six feet, with unkempt jet black hair streaked with grey. His eyes themselves are also a dull grey, with dark circles looming underneath. His face is angular and gaunt; his skin an almost sickly pale. There are some who say he never smiles (perhaps to hide his rotted, decaying teeth), but he has been known to smirk on some occasions. His nose is somewhat crooked, having been broken once or twice in the past. Lastly, he is of an average build, perhaps somewhat frailer than most, but makes up for this with a surprising speed and agility.

For attire, he wears a rather plain homespun shirt and breaches, frayed with age. They were once green, but have mostly faded to a dull grey. Or perhaps the green is simply the result of grass stains. Who can say? Anyhow, he wears a pair of brown leather boots that are actually surprisingly well-fitting and sturdy, stained with a small speck of blood that just refuses to come off. Over all this he wears a thick, warm, grey cloak, stained with mud from his travels.

He also carries a steel longsword - the blade has a couple notches and a few flecks of rust, but is otherwise serviceable enough - which is kept sheathed at his hip on a worn leather belt, alongside a dagger in similar condition. His final accessory is one that serves absolutely no combat value; an old, battered, rotted flute that he may occasionally blow. He possesses absolutely no aptitude for this instrument, but it is dear to him nonetheless.

Personality:
Where to begin? At first glance, one would view him as grim, cynical, and depressed. He has a tendency to incline his head at an angle while speaking. As a result he may come across as rather creepy and unhinged - a fair assessment. He has a tendency to mutter or whisper to himself (but usually won't do this in front of others, unless he is deep in thought.) He is also generally pessimistic; quick to throw cold water onto other people's ideas, with a tendency to become paranoid, or to assume the worst when something has gone wrong.

Some may also note that he carries a dark sense of humour, with a tendency to take grisly or disturbing sights with nothing more than a grim remark - although he is in truth putting on a front, for both himself and others. He is not without altruism. He still has concern for others, but he does his best to suppress it, both as a coping mechanism and as a a means to avoid showing weakness. And for those who are just as jaded as he, his remarks may be genuinely amusing.

Also, don't mess with his flute.

Background:
Fifteen years ago, an attempt was made to start a new settlement. It started out small; various families and individuals from all over, who either voluntarily left their previous life or were driven out. Somehow they found each other, and for some reason or another, opted to stick together. Gerick was from one of these families. His mother was a scribe, driven from Illistair for reasons he never learned, while his father and uncle were hunters - the latter also being a renowned swordsman. They found a promising site - a flat-topped riverside hill - and set about the task of building a new civilization.

Why they tried this when so many previous attempts had failed, Gerick does not remember. Perhaps they were optimistic to think that their fledgling village would be one of the rare exceptions. Or perhaps they simply thought they would have more time before the Filth took notice. Either way, they made quick progress. They cleared away trees, stockpiled resources, erected crude shelters, and even some rudimentary defenses.

Within days, it fell.

The monsters came. The villagers didn't stand a chance. Gerick saw his father, mother, and sister ripped apart before his very eyes. Gerick would have died too, but his uncle - the village's best fighter and hunter - saved him. While the villagers died, he and his uncle grabbed what they could. While the village burned, they ran. Somehow, against all odds, they made it.

From that moment onward, Gerick had to be raised by his uncle.

He remembered his uncle once being an optimistic, good-natured, and good-humoured man. That changed after the death of their family. His uncle became cold, stoic, and grim. Gone were the jokes and smiles. The only thing that mattered was survival. And survive they did, sustaining themselves on berries, mushrooms, and what animals they were able to hunt. They spent two years in Kendles, with his uncle serving as hired muscle for a peddler of narcotic substances, until said peddler was brutally stabbed and his uncle decided they had to leave. After that, it was back to the woods.

Overall, it was a rather unconventional childhood.

Eventually, when Gerick was sixteen, things had grown exceptionally desperate. It was in the middle of winter; no forage was available, and they had been having terrible luck in their hunts. And one day, his uncle simply didn't wake up.

He was on his own after that, with nothing to do but wander aimlessly. All he had to remember his family was the aged flute once played by his sister, and the bow once wielded by his uncle, yet even when he held those objects close they still felt like distant memories. The bow was eventually broken and lost during a fight with brigands on the road, but he kept the flute. Although he would occasionally visit other settlements or temporarily join other groups, he lacked regular companionship, and quickly fell into the habit of talking to himself. Remembering the man his uncle used to be, he even took to making jokes about his circumstances, as a way of coping with the pain of it all, and he became increasingly numb to the hardship of life.

Because of his tragic past and his eerie demeanor, one might think Gerick is a broken man. But this isn't quite true. He has, despite everything that has happened, kept himself alive. While he has done some unsavoury things, he has never turned to banditry or unjustified murder like many others have. He may complain and appear unmotivated, yet his complaints are somewhat insightful, and his lack of motivation has rarely stopped him from doing what needed to be done.

Also: his favourite food is a hallucinogenic mushroom. He doesn't have a problem. Shut up. Now, why is this relevant? Well you see, in a moment of weakness he happened to over-indulge in said mushroom. After that, he received a vision of his deceased family urging him to never lose hope, that he still needed to 'go forth' and 'fulfill his destiny' - the exact wording is somewhat fuzzy. Anyway, for some reason he ended up walking naked into a river. While under the water, he glimpsed something shiny at the bottom, and the next thing he knew he woke up clutching a golden crown to his chest, bejeweled with small emeralds and rubies.

It sits slightly crooked on his head, but hey - a crown is a crown, right?

Skills:
Strength: A Man among Men (2)
Reflexes: Reflexes of a Mantis (4)
Fortitude: Skin of Paper (1)
Intellect: Quick (3)
Wisdom: Straightforward (2)
Willpower: Plenty of Will (3)

Skills and Training:
Gerick is an exceptional swordsman and an adequate shot with a bow, having been trained by his uncle in both. He also knows a number of other survival skills, such as how to track, how to forage, and how to navigate. Finally, he has a very basic understanding of literacy, taught to him by his mother, and has an impressive knowledge of various myths and stories - passed on by his parents and his uncle.

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His most memorable moment is, of course, his village being butchered.