-DepthCharge

The Dresden files

All of my yes. I love the Dresden Files.

Yu-Gi-Oh! ~ Veritas!

It will consist of playing children's card games for the fate of planet. Possibly on motorcycles.

No, wait, it isn't those things at all. :D

Advanced Yu Gi Oh RP

The only decent way I could think of to incorporate dueling is using something like Dueling Network to decide the outcome of the duel, and roleplaying it post-game. Only problem with that is conflicting schedules and keeping an accurate log of moves.

Why fight the inevitable?

Never have I seen a thread derailed by an etymological argument sparked from something as wholly ridiculous as the origin of a common RPG character archetype.

And on Dante, its not like he was just writing whatever he wanted straight into canon. That's the Church's job. The reason his work is so prevalent in people's imaginings of Christian mythology speaks of nothing but its impact in popular culture at the time. You can observe the same thing happen today in hyper speed. What is the general idea of how Thor acts and looks nowadays? He's a blonde haired, blue eyed hero right? When originally he was a ginger. And kind of a dick.

Mordred Academy of Magical Arts - A subtler take on Magical Academy roleplays

Interested.

Slayers

Drumming. Drumming. Pata-pat-pat. The sound of the rain pelting his skull was all Joseph could hear. He was in a clearing, surrounded on all sides by thick woods. It was nearing dawn, the sun had yet to reach over the treetops, and everything around him was bathed in shadow. He sat there in the mud, red hair dark with moisture and clinging to his down turned head. Closed lids obscured Joseph's blue-grey eyes, the tears from which were doing nothing to wash away the mask of dried blood that caked his face. His clothing was torn and filthy, and through the rips in his shirt light mail , perforated itself in places, could be seen. His own blood still slowly seeped from multiple wounds, though less than the injuries would allude to. Joseph's blade, what had once been a short and slender sword of gleaming, engraved steel was still clutched in his hand. The blade was now blackened and steaming, hissing at each drop of rain that had the audacity to land upon it.

All around Joseph, blood was mixing with water and mud. The clearing was stained red where it wasn't cluttered by nearly a hundred massive, hairy corpses in various states of disfigurement. Lycanthropes, humanoid canines with a fierce sense of territory and efficient pack mentality. Prominent among the corpses was a massive lycanthrope, nearly three feet taller than the largest of its kin on display. The front of its body was torn asunder, and the fur burnt to nonexistence to reveal horribly blackened flesh beneath. But mixed among these beasts were five corpses, more difficult to pick out among the carnage, but perhaps the most important —at least to the weeping Joseph. Five humans. Joseph's friends and companions. Their stationary forms lay broken, their blood seeping out to mix with that of the terrible creatures around them. Even in death, they still held their weapons and the piles of lycanthrope bodies were deepest around where they had fallen. They had fought and died like the warriors they were, never surrendering, rending the flesh from the bones of their enemies until the very last breath. They had died as they had lived; as Slayers.

Eventually the rain stopped. The sun and its warmth broke the tops of the trees and the clearing was bathed in light. Instead of hope, the light only brought the carnage of the battle into greater focus. Joseph absently heard voices filter in from the woods beyond. His body involuntarily rose from where he had sat, reopening some wounds and allowing a fresh cascade of blood to pour over his flesh. He expected more battle; almost wished for it. He wanted nothing more at that moment than to bring his blade to bear, to have it sing as he let loose the boiling rage that set his insides aflame. Joseph was prepared to fight and die like his comrades had earlier that night. He didn't get what he wanted. Instead, six human forms broke the treeline. They were battered and bruised, but whole, and when they saw Joseph, standing before them looking as though he were death incarnate, they momentarily faltered. But Joseph recognized them as his brothers and sisters in arms. As the largest among them rushed towards Joseph, he gave in to his pain and rage and fatigue and fell limply into the arms of the man.

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Thank you for clicking, and welcome to the interest check for Slayers. I know the sample above tells you relatively little about this game, but it is very relevant to the story, and more about that event will be exposed in the RP itself. Now on to the meat:

The Kingdom:

Slayers takes place primarily in the Kingdom of Josia and her outlying territories. Josia is a prosperous if secluded kingdom in the northern part of the continent. Its southerly border is the Jensen River, and to its North lies the impenetrably dense coniferous forest known locally as the Pines. Josia is well known for producing fineries of unparalleled quality, especially when it comes to metalwork. Though Josia has had little in the way of war with the other human kingdoms of the continent, it has been under near constant siege by the Lycanthropes who populate the Pines. Things have been relatively quiet for nearly a decade, but it seems that may soon change.

Magic in Slayers

Magic exists in this world to be sure, but it is not something the average person is born into. Very rarely do humans display inherent magical prowess, save for the odd soothsayer here and there. However, there are many creatures who are born with varying magical properties, and certain rare artifacts display untold power as well. Slayers are different, however. While they do not regularly boast inherent magic, they do appear to have a certain innate affinity towards it that allows them to more effectively harness sources of magic than the average person. This is what allows them to be bound to the artifact known as the Elderheart, which grants Slayers enhanced strength, stamina, and regenerative abilities; as well as a form of limited, emotion based group telepathy similar to a Lycanthrope's pack link. This is what makes them so effective against their foes.

Now, don't count out having those magical powers of your dreams just yet. There are many ways to gain power in this world if only you make the right decisions. But remember, all power comes with a price.

The Corps

Legend says that the first Slayers were Dragon Slayers, and that the Corps was formed two thousand years ago by a band of warriors who brought the most powerful creatures to have ever walked the earth to extinction. Few believe this, and though some stories of this time remain, they are told to children at their bedside and not considered reality. The first historical record of the Corps dates back to the time of the fourth king of Josia, some 600 years ago, formed as a sort of special forces to combat the sudden incursion of large amounts of Lycans from the North, and so they remain to this day. It is considered a great honor to be chosen for Slayer candidacy, and full-fledged Slayers are treated with the utmost respect. Although the Corps itself has perhaps ten thousand soldiers, only a handful actually become Slayers. Due to the limitations of the Elderheart, only eight six person teams of Slayers are active at any given point, with the rest of the Corps constantly training both on and off the battlefield to take up the mantle if necessary. If you ask a man what he does for a living, and he replies, "I'm in the Corps." he is one of the many; if he replies, "I am a Slayer." then he is one of the few.

Please post interest and let me know what else you would like to know about the setting and plot, as well as what you would like to see changed.

Survivors of Woodford

There was no finer place to live than Woodford. That's what any of the small village's inhabitants would tell you. It was a quiet little town situated on a small river that spilled out into a calm lake abundant with fish. The town was separated into two parts divided by the river and connected by a beautifully crafted stone bridge that was the pride of the village. On the West side of the bridge closest to the water lay several modest but well kept homes, with farm houses scattered about the countryside farther out. The homes in Woodford were places of comfort and family, always warm looking and inviting with smoke rising from chimneys and attractive gardens both decorative and functional. There were docks scattered about here and there, both on the river and the lake, where one could see many small fishing boats. Over the bridge, on the East side, there were more homes, though these were slightly larger and arranged into rough approximations of city blocks. Here also were the majority of the shops and workshops of the town's merchants and craftsmen. In the center of it all was the market square, paved with dull grey cobblestones that had seen the wear of many decades. Here was where temporary stalls were set up by farmers, and traveling merchants who didn't require permanent establishments. Among the shops that ringed the square stood a single inn whose bottom level was also a tavern called the Weary Warrior.

The people of Woodford were of a kindly and generous sort. Their lives were simple and relaxed, and this made the majority of them a cheerful lot. It was not strange at all for random festivals to spring up in the square, or for groups of men and women laugh and drink and sing in the tavern until well into the wee hours of the morning. Children could always be seen playing; in the square, by the river and lake, and on the outskirts of the village in the woods, never straying too far. Even the elderly of the village were lively in their way. Always willing to tell anecdotes and tall tales to children and travelers. Yes, Woodford was a fine place to live.

That didn't stop everyone from dying.
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Your Character: You will play an inhabitant of Woodford, going about your daily life on the eve of an invasion by creatures you can barely comprehend. You will watch as they cut down your friends and family. They will show no mercy to women or children. They will burn and ravage everything within their sight. You will be terrified. You may even be injured. But for whatever reason, even though the beasts are slaying men like cattle, you will make a choice. You will choose to fight. To drive these things from the home you once loved, to destroy their kind as they destroyed yours.

The Enemy: The enemies you are about to face are horrors the likes of which you have never seen. Although their physical appearance varies greatly, some constant themes are exposed bone, overlarge fangs dripping with saliva or venom, rippling muscle beneath thick hide tough enough to stop a dagger's blade, and fiercely hungry eyes. Most walk on four legs, though some walk on two like a man. The latter are often more powerful and intelligent than the others.

Magic: Magic does exist in this realm. However, it is a rare and ancient thing that few mortals dare attempt to manipulate. As such none of your characters have access to it right off the bat. Don't worry though, you will.