I and a fellow named @Damiann47 have got a private, PM-based RP brewing up since we are dissatisfied with how quickly regular RP's die out.
I've come to titling it as Cerulean Skies. It's got your average medieval adventurer thing going on, except none of us are heroes, and are merely cogs in the greater machine that is the feudal world as we know it.
We originally planned it to just be between us two, but the addition of one more player invites a lot more possibilities for fun. More action, more drama, more romance and more jealousy.
However, we won't accept just about anyone. Though loose, we do have standards.
So, if you don't mind, we got a little aptitude test. Write a few paragraphs of narrative here, something like this:
The silence hung heavy in the air as a leaf fell from its high perch in the canopy. Illuminated by the rays of the sun through the gaps in the branches, it was guided by the soft brushes of a light, encouraging draft, and kept aloft by the breeze. The unassuming object, cut off from its parent, glided past the rough bark of ancient, towering trees, dozens and dozens of them, before, as it fell lower and lower, it found less of the wind to keep itself afloat. Nature’s breath did not breathe this much amongst the lowly brush cowering in the shadow of the venerable trees, and so it rested at the shaggy green head of a random bush. But then, against the backdrop of some random bird’s shrill song, the bush rustled lightly and shook. Encouraged to fall, a stranger came to take the place of the leaf: a little glint of the darkness that smelled faintly of blood, a hook-shaped greyness that continued to disturb the bush as it hovered by the barest of millimeters forward. With time, the object escaped the shadows of the immediate forest, and it took on the shape of a nocked arrow. And it fired. At the sudden sound, its eye shone for a quick moment in surprise, the muscles in its neck contracting to rear its head so it could look in the direction of the threat. However, the arrow severed them in the next instance, and embedded itself deeply into its rich, crimson flesh. The deer fell with a resounding thud, and the anonymous bird from before meekly halted its song. The bush rattled furiously as some of its twigs were unintentionally snapped by a smiling young man who stepped out forth into the clearing.I know it looks and sounds pretty pretentious, this method of quality control, but this is what I can come up. So if you're interested, please plop down a post or two here and we'll get to judging.
