Bright_Ops

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. IV

Some might have used the imagery of a candle being lit against the darkness; A symbiotic expression of awareness springing to existence from nothing. This would have been an easy story to tell to others... and like most such stories was nothing but a fantasy; A lie to try and explain a concept that minds unable to handle the truth could accept instead.

They had existed within the depths of possibility that was the lifeblood since the beginning. Mindless. Formless. But still possessed of a earning to be something more.

The concept of time was meaningless, but as one moment of now changed into the next, something else changed as well.

It started with the sensations of being runny and molten, but as another moment passed the edges of being started to freeze, the heat disappearing and taking with it mobility in exchange for a ridged form. Many of these shards fell back into the molten whole, most abandoning the cold rigidness of self to return completely while others clung to their new identities even as they were altered further by the warmth of being whole. Some shards of self did not return, instead existing separate from the whole but still very much apart of it.

These shards followed their nature, traveling away from the dark, warm depths and and moving upwards towards where things were cold but remained the same. Some even were so bold as to venture out of the very top of the darkness, finding itself exposed the things and sensations that didn't exist down in the depths. The definition of moments changed, instead turning to reflect how long a shard of the whole could withstand the elements above before it needed to be pulled back down to reforge itself anew. They existed, but even with the revolutionary concept of the passage of time they merely were and nothing more.

It was what happened next that truly altered things... but it happened so quickly and over so wide an area that pinpointing exactly when the spark of self awareness truly began and he started to take form within the lifeblood properly simply wasn't possible. Mortals started to mine out the shards near the surface, experimenting with changing it into various forms to serve a variety of uses from buildings, weapons and armor... even just to look pretty.

The wide range of conflicting ideals and theories took time in order to come together in a manner that made sense, but one fragmented memory stood out from this period above all the others. An mortal of some kind... human, somewhere in his middle age moving into his elder years, sitting down as he waited for some copper to heat up enough to melt down into a workable substance, telling a story to his tired, fussy grandson who was refusing to go to sleep. Compared to some of the stories he listened to or witnessed first hand later it was a small, silly tale about a warrior and a mighty dragon helping ordinary people with their problems... but it imprinted itself in his mind, filling him with a desire to hear more stories.

Opening his eyes in a void not unlike the darkness of the warm depths he had started in, Droka... just sat there in shock as the weight of everything suddenly hammered itself home on him harder then any mortal blacksmith hammer could ever hope to achieve. All the knowledge, all the information, all the stories he had stored in his head... and most important of all, the sheer weight of true existence. He was no longer the ponderously slow They of the past... he was now Droka.

For a time he sat there, occasionally flapping his leathery wings or inspecting his golden claws and body. He knew that if he wanted to, he could easily change color to something else but... Gold was a good, metallic color and something in his being was content with it. He glanced over at the portal nearby since... well, it kind of stood out against the backdrop of the void, but despite his curiosity he didn't desire to go through it just yet. This realm was his after all... and it would be rude to leave it without at least doing something interesting with it.

At first images of workshops and metal spires filled his mind... but those were quickly discarded. Sure, a workshop or two hidden away was a good idea but... Focusing his will, he lifted himself onto his hind legs and started to flap his wings as the void started to twist into colors and shapes. Before long, the endless darkened void had turned into a... well, rather cozy looking building covered in wooden shelves. There was even a fireplace and a large, cozy looking chair big enough for his dragon sized body to sit down and curl up on. The bookshelves themselves were far from full, even with all the stories that had been in Droka's head written down and displayed on them. In time that would have to be addressed, but at least satisfied with what he had done so far, Droka nodded his head before turning towards the portal and stepping through it.

Change was a natural part of him, so his form shifting as he crossed the threshold wasn't as big a deal for him as it might have been for others. Instead of the majestic dragon that he had been moments before a middle aged, elderly looking human man carrying a cane stepped into Antiquity.

Summery

Droka forms, develops the basics of his realm, then enters Antiquity.

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

Eastern Yharnam, Hunter's clinic

For his part, Draco simply shrugged and answered "Sounds like a plan." because... sure, it would require some people he didn't really know to die, but honestly he had a bad feeling about them since the moment he had laid eyes on them so their removal as a factor wasn't any weight off his back.

However, something that Victor said struck him as something that... honestly he would have been better off not hearing. That the charge that he was so dedicated to getting to safety was a Saint. While he had nothing against whomever the Church decided to name a Saint for whatever reason, people could get weird about what sort of thing... weird and desperate. Looking towards the woman in question... he took a deep breath as he calmed himself before saying for both her benefit and Victor's "Okay... We're going to go through with this plan with only one addition. For the rest of the night, between heading for this shelter and hiding out there, no one here is going to mention the fact that we have a Saint in the group. Because all mentioning that will do is possibly put a target on your back and make life more complicated then it needs to be. Sound good?" He asked, a small degree of hope in his voice that his point was driven home.

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

I'll get a post up. Sorry for the delay.

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. IV

Please have a look at Domain and Portfolio. I've got an imagine in mind, but I would welcome early feedback to make them work properly.

Droka

Name:
Droka

Primordial or Conceptual:
Conceptual

Domain:
Crafting.

The art of creation is not an uncommon trait among the divine. In another reality, Droka might have been content just to be the god of blacksmiths and build up his power and prestige from there but... a weird quirk of the lifeblood he was born from has given him a different obsession then that of the physical craft. However, despite his obsession with stories of all kinds, he is still at his core a god of crafting. His obsession has altered him in that rather then focusing on a single field and mastering it like say... metalworking, he instead branched out into dozens of different fields of crafting. While metalworking remains a stock standard, depending on his mood, circumstances and his somewhat fickle tastes when it comes to his obsessions he will actively be working at creating other crafts via vastly different methods then that of the blacksmith.

Portfolio:
Metal.

Considering the kind of personality and passions that Droka has, one could easily be mistaken into believing that he is some kind of god of wisdom or knowledge... but at his core, he is a god of metal. Shaping it, creating it, summoning it from the dark depths of dirt and ocean alike if required is as natural to him as breathing. Restoring metal to its pristine glory or causing it to rust and rot away. That is however just scratching the surface.

To work with metal requires a deep understanding of the materials you are working with. How to prepare it, what uses it has, what other materials you can mix with it to develop brand new metals and alloys and what they're good for. Understanding how much damage, pressure and strain each type of metal can take and how different forging methods can alter the answer to that question. Droka knows the secrets of metal... and he's painfully aware of how little the mortal races of the world truly understands of them. In time, that will change.

Their Realm:
Droka's Grand Library

Droka's realm is deceptively simple. It's appearance is that of a rather homely, if somewhat larger then normal personal library. It's humble looking appearance is actually rather deceiving in that it is a lot larger then it's appearance would suggest. Within Droka's Library is every story the world has ever known, updated in real time. Stories that are in progress are actively writing themselves here.

The label of 'story' is also somewhat broader then people might believe. Myths, Legends, fictional tales, history, the personal life stories of those who walk the mortal realm... even some plants and animals that have lived interesting lives and more can be found within the Droka's Grand Library.

Hidden among the shelves of countless books, scrolls, stone slabs and clay tablets are a series of rooms kept separate from the main Library. These rooms play host to Droka's many workshops. Each workshop is dedicated to a different craft, through the working of metal and the creation of jewellery tends to be the favored arts practiced. More obscure workshops can be found by those able to seek them through and occasionally Droka feels like doing a bit of pottery or working leather and cloth. More workshops will likely be added and possibly lost over time.

Persona:
Droka is something of an indifferent god as far as mortals are concerned. While he enjoys the stories that arise from mortals in general, he isn't inclined towards stepping in to fix their problems or ease their suffering because that would make for a boring story. While it is true that he might end up assisting the Mortals via the creation of an artifact or blessing a champion among them to rise to the occasion and combat their woes, he is just as inclined to offer the forces of darkness and suffering some artifacts and blessings of their own to make use of because the greater the opposition to the forces of good are, the grander the tale of its defeat.

This doesn't mean that Droka is uncaring through. Individuals that catch his attention will keep it for better or worse and in truth he can grow quite attached to them. In truth, how and why a Mortal earns Droka's attention in the first place can seem rather fickle and honestly Droka wouldn't deny that. He's not entirely sure himself why some deeds appeal to him while others just don't draw his gaze at a given moment and he is prone to introspection of his motivations at times because of this.

Droka adores working with other gods because the presence of divinity tends to make the stories about to be created have a flair that they normally wouldn't, but his insistence that they don't get to heavily involved with the situation at times can rub his fellow deities the wrong way.

Base Form:


Droka's base form is that of an elder looking male of whatever given mortal race he happens to be interacting with at the given time, though in mixed company he seems to favor a human form. While baring white hair, the wrinkles of age and often a walking stick, in truth there is a youthful energy to him the flies in the face of his apparent age. His apparent 'weakness' is cosmetic only.

Domain Form:


In his domain, Droka abandons the human guise, instead favoring that of a large, regal looking gold dragon instead.

Avatar:
The Legendary Craftsman.

This Avatar of Droka has many Mortal names and faces, but some things remain consistant. Regardless of whatever mortal race they happen to have taken to form of at the time, the Craftsman appears as an older member of that race, but having only just started to leave their physical prime. Still physically stout from a lifetime of pursuing their craft, their eyes bare the wisdom of experience.

The exact craft of the Legendary Craftsman changes as easily as their name or face, but whenever someone worthy of one of their works comes to call in order to seek help to obtain their destiny, the Craftsman will provide something that will be vital for the story to come. As an Avatar of Droka, the Legendary Craftsman calls out to those either with an air of destiny to them or who happen to be seeking a destiny to call their own like a beacon. Regardless of where the Craftsman sets themselves up, Mortals far and wide will spread rumors and stories of a Craftsman of legendary skill being there... even if the Craftsman hasn't interacted with Mortals at all.

After all, if it's easy to get to a craftsman of legendary skill, are they really a legendary craftsman?

Musical Theme: Droka's got a few.

Divinus: The God RP, Mk. IV

I'm considering joining this Rp but... can you give me an idea of the current state of the world and how its formed so far? What gods and goddesses have already made their make and how far along its come so far?

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

Eastern Yharnam, Hunter's clinic

Draco had the decency to look somewhat bashful at the manner in which he had been informed that the sniffing thing wasn't actually a sign of madness or darker things. "In my defense, I got this-" There was a quick gesture towards the scarring across his face where his nose used to be "- before I ever met a hunter and no one has ever felt the need to inform me that they have a certain scent." Much like with all things that 'everyone just knew', when you didn't know you were left somewhat out of the loop.

Still, despite his somewhat flustered frustrations, he did notice that one of the hunters seemed to be sympathetic to his request for help... even if Victor clearly didn't care and was focused on his mission. A mission that, as he turned to look at the woman that was Victor's charge, he realized he could use to his advantage. "You want to get her to safety? Well, I know where a shelter designed for civilians caught away from home with incense nearby is. I also know for a fact that there is a hunter with beast like claws actively hunting down other hunters in a mixture of bloodlust and sport. He's already killed one hunter from the church, he'll almost certainly try again."

Draco's hope was that Victor would connect the dots himself, but their were two conclusions that he was angling for. The first was that because Draco himself knew a safe location nearby that he could take his charge too, protecting Draco (and by extension, the Civilians with Draco) would assist with his primary mission. The second was that with the presence of a confirmed hunter killer on the prowl nearby who was actively targeting hunters, the danger posed to his charge if said mad hunter tried to ambush him would discourage Victor from trying to travel by himself.

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

Eastern Yharnam, Hunter's clinic

Draco couldn't really fault those following him for following the 'Yharnamites' into the abandoned house rather then stay out in the open or follow him into a possibly dangerous situation. Even more so because he didn't exactly let his doubts about their new 'friends' be known, concerned that if he had alerted them to the fact that he didn't trust them or their intentions that the situation would have turned to violence then and there.

Despite being alone through, he pushed ahead despite his nerves being balanced on a sharpened steel edge while his heart pounded in his chest like a drum. Fear was an old companion that was always willing to walk with him when no one else would, but he had committed to his course and he would need to see it through.

Entering the clinic proper, the scene of carnage before him was difficult to witness. The scent of splattered blood easily dominated Draco's highly dulled ability to detect odors... and for the first time in his life he was honestly thankful of the fact that an insane woman swung a cleaver at his face because he was pretty damn close to throwing up and the smell likely would have pushed him over the edge.

Looking somewhat green but experienced enough to hold himself together in blood bath situations like this, Draco turned his gaze towards the hunter who had addressed him. He tried his best to take in as much detail on the room as possible and keep watch on all the players on the board at once, but he focused on the who talked to him to try and defuse the situation as quickly as possible. "My name is Draco. I'm a blacksmith and huntsman that was escorting a group of civilians alongside a hunter named Stefan towards a shelter for the night before an insane hunter ambushed and killed Stefan. Only reason he didn't slaughter the rest of us is because we're just human and there were some beasts and a church giant fighting each other nearby that he would rather have been fighting."

Who he was and why he was there answered, he nervously glanced around and swallowed the contents of his stomach down as he continued "Look, I know you hunters have bigger things to worry about then escorting a bunch of civilians to safety, but if you would at least be willing to start your hunt tonight along the path we need to go at least that would be great... even more so because as I said, there's an insane hunter hunting other hunters in that general area." There was a final gulp... before he finished "And I've got a group of civilians currently hiding in a building nearby with the four blooded guys that just ran out of here and at least one of them did what the insane hunter did and was able to tell I wasn't a hunter by scent, so I am afraid that the longer I'm here talking with you, the more likely whatever madness they are suffering from is going to result in a bunch of dead civilians."

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

I'll get a post up tomorrow. Sorry for the delay.

Once Upon A Kingdom

Ruler

Name:
Marquess Droka of Tushina (The Marquess of Tushina)

Race:
Dragon

Description:
A young dragon, Droka isn't much larger then a farmer's wagon in his natural form. Quadrupedal in nature with an impressive wingspan, the young Marquess of Tushina strides with a confidence and majesty of one who is descended from the true, rightful rulers of the world. His scales are a beautiful mixture of dark, relaxing shades that blend together into the relaxing shades seen in the twilight sky after the sun has disappeared over the horizon but before its light has completely disappeared. His reptilian, stilted eyes almost seem to glow like yellow stars against the backdrop of his scales. While he does have the ability to take on different forms to look more like the 'servant' races, Droka hasn't quite found a form that he believes properly represents him just yet.

The young Marquess has only recently taken over as regent of Tushina. His father, Duke Maets of Tushina, felt he could not resist the siren call of hibernation any longer and entrusted his heir with managing Tushina through the crisis as he retired to slumber for an unknown period of time that can easily decades, if not centuries for older dragons. With his first hibernation centuries off yet, Duke Maets deemed this the perfect chance to let his heir test his metal at the task of ruler ship.

The social construct of Feudalism comes rather naturally to dragons and to Droka this is no different. Young and ambitious, the Marquess has no intention of merely maintaining the domains of his family. Mortal lords have allowed the kingdom of Paigeturne to fall to pieces and it needs to be put back together... with a dragon claiming the throne in order to provide long term stability and prestige to the position that the servant races simply couldn't achieve.

Attributes:
Charm: 1
Lore: 3+1
Might: 3
Skill: 0

Focus:
Delegation - No man (or dragon) rules alone. The power of kings is to get others to act on your behalf and Droka understands the value of selecting the right subject for the task.

Foible:
Protective of his subjects - Most tales of dragons depict them as greedy creatures that horde mounds of treasure instinctively. While this is true, exactly what qualifies as 'treasure' is different from dragon to dragon depending on personal tastes and beliefs. In the case of Droka, he views his subjects as his horde.

Realm

Name:
The Duchy of Tushina

Description:
The Duchy of Tushina has been apart of Paigeturne almost since the beginning. In Paigeturne's infant days, a young and powerful dragon left the mountains behind in order to glide down into the lower lands resting at the foot of them. While other of his ilk would have done so to raid and pillage, this drake had grander ambitions... he intended to be a conqueror.

The arrangement tended to be rather simple. Whatever town, city, village, hamlet or other gathering of servant races the dragon came upon, an offer would be made: Swear fealty to their new lord and be rewarded alongside protected from raiders of all kinds... or be killed and replaced by someone who would. Via this method of diplomacy, many cities and towns were united under the dragons rule, the unified lands being called Tushina; Legend says that the name was of the dragoness that the dragon cared for and loved deeply.

While many suspected that there was going to be war between the Duchy of Tushina and the relatively new Kingdom of Paigeturne, Duke Drumknott surprised by the world when he flew into the capital and willingly submitted himself and his lands to serve the crown of Paigeturne. History is unsure as to why the dragon Drumknott did this, but some theories suggest that he wanted to focus his efforts on defending his new lands and subjects from his more ambitious, bold kin back in the mountains and didn't want to be caught between them and the newly risen kingdom.

Duke Drumknott died almost three hundred years later saving the Queen of Paigeturne from an assassination attempt, his son and heir Maets claiming the duchy of Tushina and title of Duke after his death. Duke Maets continued to rule Tushina until rather recently. As dragons grow older, the call of hibernation sings out to them. While in younger drakes this can be merely a matter of months or years, as dragons grow older the length of these hibernation spells increase to decades if not centuries... and Maets had grown old enough that he would be slumbering for a decade at the earliest. Aware that such an absence would be trying even under good circumstances, Duke Maets happily pushed his son and heir Droka to step up and rule Tushina for a period of regency.

Over time, the population of Tushina has changed. When Drumknott founded the duchy originally, the population was largely human with small pockets of dwarves. As the centuries have passed however, a side effect of the magics used by dragons as Tushina became a trading area between the servant races of the world and those dragons intelligent enough to be willing to trade for goods and services started to seep into the servant races of Tushina; Those who lived in Tushina over the generations started to have their forms altered into a more dragon like form. These 'Drakonids' and 'Dragonspawn' as they were now called became the new majority as the human and dwarven populations they originally came from dwindled.

The rise of these dragonoid races has given birth to a series of dragon cults within Tushina. Many see the transformation to be a reward for their families long service to the Dukes of Tushina, while others believe the transformation to be merely a step towards fully ascending to dragon-hood. The dragons themselves don't actually know if the transformations will continue or not since... well, Tushina is kind of the first time this has really happened.

The difference between Drakonids and Dragonspawn is a matter of what race they descended from. Humans who have undergone the evolution process become Drakonids, a species that is best described as 'half man, half dragon'. Bipedal in nature, the standard Drakonid is covered in colored scales with a tail and stands somewhat taller then the average human. Some have horns that grow from their head and some develop spikes from their bodies. They can be mistaken for some breed of lizardman, but calling one such is a racial slur.

Dragonspawn are the descendants of Dwarves who have evolved a dragon like form. Stockier and smaller then their Drakonid kin. The lower bodies of dragonspawn are much like dragons, a scaled hide with four legs and a tail. They have humanoid torsos with long, thick arms, and scaled, draconic heads. Some larger and more powerful dragonspawn even grow wings... but even these rare, blessed few cannot actually fly.

Realm Attributes:
Fertility: 2
Industry: 2
Nobility: 1
Prosperity: 2

Realm Traits:
Hardy Folk: Your Heroes can always survive taking at least 1 more Wound, and its more difficult for them to receive Wounds in the first place. You produce 1 additional Craft each turn.

The Secret Art: The Realm's Heroes and its Ruler receive +1 Lore. Your common folk are somewhat more familiar with and resistant to magic.

Heroes

Name:
Knight-Commander Fash

Class:
Knight

Attributes:
Charm 2, Lore 0+1, Might 3, Skill 1

Wounds:
4-6

Bonus Ability:
The Knight can survive at least 1-2 more Wounds than other Heroes. Soldiers the Knight leads cannot break unless the Knight Perishes first.

Backstory:
Knight-Commander Fash is a descendant of the dwarves of Tushina who has evolved into a dragonspawn. A rather large and hearty example of this kind, the first signs of his possible greatness was seen when he was born with a pair of wings. While this development marked the young Fash as a person of interest, it was seen more as a sign of possibility rather then destiny.

Fash has fought hard to prove himself worthy of the rank and honors he currently holds... and under the guidance of his new liege he intends to further develop his legend and prestige. His scales are a deep shade of blue.


Name:
Rask

Class:
Scoundrel

Attributes:
Charm 2, Lore 0+1, Might 2, Skill 2

Wounds:
4

Bonus Ability:
Whenever the Scoundrel takes the Patrol or Rest Action, you gain 1 Silver.

Backstory:
Officially, the black scaled Drakonid Rash is Droka's Minister of Finance... namely, Tushina's chief tax collector. While this is completely true, Rash's duties go somewhat beyond coin counting and collection. Secretly, Rash also serves as something of a spy master who keeps an eye on Tushina's inner workings. After all, as the old saying goes "Follow the money..."

Name:
Raadan

Class:
Hunter

Attributes:
Charm 0, Lore 1+1, Might 2, Skill 3

Wounds:
4

Bonus Ability:
Whenever a Hunter takes the Forage or Rest Action, you gain 1 additional Food, and then the Hunter *may* move to an adjacent Realm or Wilderness region.

Backstory:
The red and black scaled Raadan is the 'Master of the Hunt' of the Court of Tushina. While many believe his duties are limited to that of hunting animals for food and to remove dangerous beasts, the truth is that Raadan also serves the roles of scout, bounty hunter and assassin. Those seeking to escape the law by fleeing into the wilds will find no safe haven there.

Edit: Alright, this is ready for inspection now.

Night of the Hunt - a Bloodborne RP

Eastern Yharnam, outside the Hunter's clinic

While Draco believed that he had done his Oedon given duty towards his fellow man by stopping the group of men who had been about to run by into a highly dangerous situation before they had gotten themselves killed, the longer he remained in their presence the more red flags were raised in his mind that something was... off with this party of Yharnamites.

For starters the fact that all four of them were bloodstained without any clear sign of injury suggesting that the blood was their own or weapons to suggest that it was someone or something else's was raised a few very worrying questions, but for Yharnam standards that was honestly the least worrying thing about the whole situation. The fact that there was a group of unarmed men wandering a part of Yharnam that had clearly been abandoned for some time as the sun was going down and the beasts started to leave their lairs was somewhat of a more pressing concern... but what truly set Draco's instincts off was the fact that one of the group had made no small show of sniffing him and then relaxing when something about his scent reveled that he wasn't a hunter.

...Something that had disappointed the insane hunter that had killed Stefan rather recently when he had done the exact same thing.

All together, this wasn't quite enough for Draco to justify lashing out and hoping the element of surprise would allow him to even the odds a bit before the group (the term 'pack' raised its ugly head) recovered to counter attack properly, but it was more then enough to ensure that he didn't trust the four in the slightest.

However, the information that there were hunters nearby fighting beasts offered a possible addendum to the plans of surviving the night. Turning to look at the flock he had taken over the task of shepherding, a course of action was selected. "I'm going to go in there and talk to the hunters inside. I doubt they'll care enough about us to escort us to shelter but I'm sure they'll be very curious about the insane hunter murdering his peers at the bottom of the elevator... and if they're just happening to be taking their hunt in the direction of incense covered shelter and clearing out the dangerous shit in the way for us, all the better!"

While he had his doubts about the group who was running away from said hunters, he couldn't exactly express his doubts without playing his hand... so turning to his group of civilians he simply said "Anyone who wants to come with me is free to do so, otherwise stay here and don't wander off. I am not going to be investing that much time or effort into chasing after idiots who get themselves separated or lost right now."