BCTheEntity

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@RogueFox First of all, best troll is Nepeta, fight me. Second, I'd honestly say go with what suits you; we only have a limited number of both classes and aspects anyway, so you may as well take something you're happy with.

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That's some pretty good art, Rosell.

And now, a revised CS for Arestl.

paranoiaMessiah

Name: Arestl Deidln (ah-res-tul dai-dul-on)

Age: 8 sweeps

Appearance: Arestl is unnervingly lean even for a purple-blooded troll. Constant stressing out has left him wiry, not so much muscular as lacking in body fat, with deep purple bags around his eyes that are readily mistaken for facepaint, and he has a somewhat disturbing tendency to shudder at inopportune moments. His hair is short, mostly because it doesn't grow in very far before a given strand falls out, and his horns emerge from his skull at a 30 degree angle, then curve around and downward toward his scalp, the tips dangerously close to the skin. He wears a black t-shirt with a hood and his sign on the front in his blood colour, grey jeans with various purple things inserted into the pockets, and black shoes which also display his sign.

Blood: Purple

-Caste Powers: Fear-inducing chucklevoodoos, albeit modified by his own mutation. He may also have some low-level psychic abilities, mutant as they are.

-Mutations: Firstly, Arestl's innate chucklevoodoos often turn back on himself in his sleep, leaving his dreams utterly fraught with terrifying imagery. Secondly, he is able to roughly sense when those around him have bad intentions; the worse that intent is, the further away and stronger it can be felt, and it is most potent when they specifically wish potentially fatal harm upon him. Since the great majority of trolls possess bad intent for their fellows at some point, especially in higher hemocastes, this is surprisingly unhelpful unless they specifically plan to murder him, in which case it's perfect for escaping before they arrive.

Personality: Eight sweeps of being subjected to his own chucklevoodoos and psychic power, in addition to Alternia's other hazards, have left Arestl Idleon a paranoid mess. In his mind, everything is out to get him, either literally or potentially, and if it's not, it just hasn't decided it's out to get him yet. Even his position as a purple-blood does not put him at ease here, for his experiences have left him both unbelieving in the stupid clown religion and the stupid clown messiahs he supposedly serves, and too focused on the world around him to put much thought into the spiritual anyway. as such- he speaks- reathere halettiinnggly- but thEN YELLES WHEN HE FREAKS OUT-
He keeps large quantities of alcohol around for stress relief, but seems to never really drink any of it, worrying that it might just leave him vulnerable to getting attacked again. On a related note, his dexterity and hand-eye coordination is superb, partly due to how fidgety he is, allowing him to recklessly twirl a quarterstaff as easily as climbing sheer surfaces or creating very sensitive explosives- which he puts into his sylladex as a form of boobytrap for anyone trying to hunt through his things- not to mention lending him ridiculous accuracy with his attacks; if he were less of a total wreck of a troll who can barely keep himself in line, let alone others, he'd make a fine subjugglator. Indeed, his only truly trusted ally is his riverlizardbeast-esque lusus Creocooddiille, and even that is semi-questionable in his mind; his total concern regarding his own survival leads him to interact mostly with trolls of lower caste than himself, since if all else fails, he has the ability to just run from them until they die of old age.

Title: Mage of Hope

Planet: Land of Spirits and Spirits - Which is to say, a land of ghosts and high-proof alcohols. An unnerving parody of a planet-sized city that even extends underground, most structures are tall, glassy, and occupied by alcohol rather than floors. Most of the planet's liquid is alcoholic in nature, and even a lake of clear water with fish swimming in it could just be pure ethanol, whilst spooky spectres haunt between the narrow streets of each building, apparently either the consorts of the world or ghastly heralds of the same. Alas, the glass merely refracts clear images of nearby streets, making the entire place seem empty even when enemies are right around the corner. And lurking somewhere beneath it all is the mysterious basilisk-like Denizen known as Abraxas...

Strife Deck: Staffkind. This covers most forms of blunt-force poles or stave-based weaponry, most notably his trusty wooden quarterstaff.

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If I set aside the necromancy thing for now, what about a Mage of Hope? That seems rather apt for somebody who's eternally paranoid that they're going to be killed at any moment, but can sense the times when they're actually in trouble and dodge death as a result.

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Honestly? Mage of Life seems kind of apt, all told. And maybe have the guy be purple-blooded, but with his chucklevoodoos turned back on him. Mage of Void could also work, but I'll do some research into it.

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@RogueFox It's fine. Honestly, I'm mostly upset that I took too long to make the guy.

@Majoras End Well, I'll think of something that's still fitting. Despite the classpect similarities, my intent was for him to eventually figure out some sort of pseudo-necromancy/summoning schtick through it. If you can think of any way for that to work out, I'd appreciate the input.

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@Majoras End I can switch things up if you'd like. Considering we now have one each of indigo-blood, Heart player, and Rogue player, I'm very tempted to find another combination of those which would work for Arestl instead. Maybe Heir of Mind or something.

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paranoiaMessiah

Name: Arestl Idleon

Age: 8 sweeps

Appearance: For a purple-blooded troll, Arestl is unnervingly lean. Constant stressing out has left him wiry, not so much muscular as lacking in body fat, and he has a somewhat disturbing tendency to shudder at inopportune moments. His hair is short, mostly because it doesn't grow in very far before a given strand falls out, and his horns emerge from his skull at a 30 degree angle, then curve around and downward toward his scalp, the tip dangerously close to the skin. He wears a black t-shirt with a hood and his sign on the front in his blood colour, purple face paint very erratically smeared around his eyes, grey jeans with various purple things inserted into the pockets, and black shoes which also display his sign.

Blood: Purple

-Caste Powers: Fear-inducing chucklevoodoos, albeit modified by his own mutation. He may also have some low-level psychic abilities, mutant as they are.

-Mutations: Firstly, Arestl's innate chucklevoodoos often turn back on himself in his sleep, leaving his dreams utterly fraught with terrifying imagery. Secondly, he is able to roughly sense when those around him have bad intentions; the worse that intent is, the further away and stronger it can be felt, and it is most potent when they specifically wish potentially fatal harm upon him. Since the great majority of trolls possess bad intent for their fellows at some point, especially in higher hemocastes, this is surprisingly unhelpful unless they specifically plan to murder him, in which case it's perfect for escaping before they arrive.

Personality: Eight sweeps of being subjected to his mutations' effects in addition to Alternia's other hazards have left Arestl Idleon a paranoid mess. In his mind, everything is out to get him, either literally or potentially, and if it's not, it just hasn't decided it's out to get him yet. he speaks- reathere halettiinnggly- but thEN YELLES WHEN HE FREAKS OUT-. He keeps large quantities of alcohol around for stress relief, but seems to never really drink any of it, worrying that it might just leave him vulnerable to getting attacked again. His dexterity and hand-eye coordination is superb, partly due to how fidgety he is, allowing him to recklessly twirl a quarterstaff as easily as climbing sheer surfaces, not to mention lending him ridiculous accuracy with his weapons; if he were less of a total wreck of a troll with little present interest in religious affairs who can barely keep himself in line, let alone others, he'd make a fine subjugglator. Indeed, his only truly trusted ally is his riverlizardbeast-esque lusus Fatherreddiille, and even that is semi-questionable in his mind; his total concern for his survival leads him to interact mostly with trolls of lower caste than himself, since if all else fails, he has the ability to just run from them until they die of old age.

Title: Mage of Hope

Planet: Land of Spirits and Spirits - Which is to say, a land of ghosts and high-proof alcohols. An unnerving parody of a planet-sized city, most structures are tall, glassy, and occupied by alcohol rather than floors. Most of the planet's liquid is alcoholic in nature, and even a patch of clear water could just be pure ethanol, whilst spooky spectres haunt between the narrow streets of each building, apparently either the consorts of the world or ghastly heralds of the same. Alas, the glass merely refracts clear images of nearby streets, making the entire place seem empty even when enemies are right around the corner.

Strife Deck: Staffkind. This covers most forms of blunt-force poles or stave-based weaponry, most notably his trusty wooden quarterstaff.

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My interest is thoroughly piqued. Try to ensure you hit the nail on the head like Acts 1-5, instead of progressively fucking everything up more and more like Act 6 and onward; if you can do it, count me in.

The Grim Crusade - A Warhammer 30000 RP

Year: 000.M31

The Battle of Ullanor - The Dawn of the New Millenium

The Ullanor Crusade, despite its designation as a crusade, was not likely to be an endeavour of exceptional length, though it was the largest the Imperium had seen since the Rangdan Xenocides, and certainly the greatest concentration of power ever put together for a single objective. Over two hundred Titans, courtesy of the Cult Mechanicum’s Titan Legions; tens, if not hundreds of thousands of Space Marines from many different Legions, most led to the field of battle by their very progenitors, the Primarchs; tens of millions of soldiers from the Imperial Army, and in particular the Solar Auxilia at its core; the very Emperor of Mankind himself, leading the charge to such an important affair; and close to a thousand battleships of the Imperialis Armada to carry them all, not to mention the countless smaller ships of the Armada and the Legiones Astartes' contributions to such an immense fleet.

Such brutishly-amassed power would be needed. The Ullanor Sector had for a long while been the home of a great and terrible Orkish empire, which had as its core the Ullanor System, a dozen enslaved planets formerly controlled by human societies. Worse yet, the empire continued to grow ever-larger: an escalating WAAAGH! that could only spell disaster if it spilled out into the wider galaxy. The Crusade, of course, was set to end this threat. Nothing less than utter victory would suffice, even as estimates suggested the Orks would still outnumber the Imperial forces several times over.

With so many Primarchs involved in the matter, an exquisite plan of attack was inevitable, be it from one mind or many. The majority of forces would target the outer planets of the Ullanor System, drawing away as many Orks as possible in their defense to leave the true target vulnerable to a speartip strike: Ullanor Prime itself, the central keep called the Tower of Ullanor, and ultimately the leader of the empire, Overlord Urlakk Urg, alongside any Orks powerful enough to potentially succeed him. With the removal of the head, the body would surely collapse.

The initial strategy, ultimately, went down like clockwork. The armada entered the Ullanor System quite publicly, the majority of ships heading toward Ullanor’s outer planets. In turn, hundreds of ramshackle Orkish vessels built up upon themselves time and again moved to intercept these aggressors, either to crush their enemy’s ships with as much firepower as they could muster, or else deposit countless Orks on the threatened planets for ground defense, and often both. And once these had been displaced, the last fragment of the Imperial fleet moved toward Ullanor Prime, comparatively ripe for the picking.

What was left was to indulge in warfare, plain and simple. Beyond the atmosphere of each planet, the navies of both sides hammered away at one another; within the ships and on the ground, greenskins and humans clashed, men giving and receiving orders even in the heat of battle, lasfire hammering into the masses even as Ork dakka and Ork choppa took life after life. Most of all, the Astartes Legions made their dent wherever they strode, boltguns and volkite weaponry turning Orks into mincemeat and incinerated vapour, and each participating Primarch directing their forces the way they saw fit.

---

Elsewhere

And yet, the Ullanor Crusade was not the sole battleground of the Imperium at that moment. Across the galaxy, humanity made its mark, and the Legions who did not fight at Ullanor were nonetheless occupied elsewhere, as were those Legion elements separated from their counterparts in the Crusade, and the Excertus Imperialis’ wider forces. Not all of these battles were dangerous; not all were even crucial for the Imperium’s well-being; but for the sake of mankind’s superiority, and for the Imperium’s brightest future, the enemy was put to rout, be it an unconscionable xeno or a human empire that refused to bow down.

The conquest of the ocean planet Laeran, in particular, might well go down in history as a footnote compared to the larger combat taking place. Nonetheless, the planet was under siege by a variety of forces, not least of which was the Night Watch under Micholi Vakrain. He had plenty of reasons to see them dead, and plenty more regarding why he chose to engage them instead of destroying their planet outright, but they would not go down without a concerted fight by any means.

JoJo's Bizarre Adventure - Operation: Ground the Harpy

@Silver Carrot You've mentioned your interest before, too. If you want to join the Discord server for these aforementioned discussions, please do so. It may be pertinent.