Enigmatik

Dogs of the Faithful

@Emma

Well, as I said, I'm not LDS or even Christian, but if you want to do Wild West Inquisitors, Salt Lake is your best bet.

One Fine Moscow Morning [BespeckledCeph vs Irredeemable]

There was a touch of snow on the ground, with the estimates for the weather being a nice, round -10 degrees. Wearing a set of driving gloves, breath visibly condensing in the air, the two racers flashed each other a quick glance. The spectators were all bundled up nice and warm, and considering how fast they had appeared out of practically nowhere, he was surprised at how organised they had been. Banknotes were waved about, last minute bets going through, before a man walked onto the road, the pedestrian crossing he had been standing on beeping loudly.

He held up a makeshift checkerboard flag and raised his arms up, hyping the crowd up. It was too cold for scantily clad women- a shame, but what could you do- and then he shouted the four magic words. "Racers! Start! Those! Engines!" The words had barely left his mouth before engines began to rev. He made a last minute adjustment to his wing mirrors, taking the opportunity to see if the fact that some dipshits had keyed his ride was obvious. Thankfully, it was not, the silver streak barely visible. The rest of the car was painted a rich red, with a single black stripe running through the middle of it, looping around neatly.

The car he was racing in was his baby. Ostentatiously a 2017 Dodge Challenger, inside it had been torn up and redone almost entirely. Everything that hadn't been needed had been chucked, the engine had been souped up, and a few more personal touches had been added besides the paint job. The supercharger for one- the intake whirring away beneath him. Then, as the countdown began, his finger hovered over a switch. "FIVE!" "FOUR!" "THREE!" "TWO!" "ONE!" He revved his engine and flicked the switch at the same time. Nitrous oxide was pumped in, and perfectly timed too- the roar of the extra fuel almost drowning out the "GO!"

Bring it bitch.

The Band of Fools

I FUCKING ACCIDENTALLY RERESHED AFTER FINISHING MY CS SOBS.

The Band of Fools

WIP

Name: Sir Geoffry Halter

Gender: Male

Age: 33

Role/Position: Corporal, 33 men.

Appearance:

Personality:

Normally taciturn and morose, Geoffrey shows all the signs of long term depression and PTSD. He finds difficulty in enjoying the same things he once loved, and motivates the men under his command more by actions than flowery words or great soliloquys and speeches. Within combat, he fights recklessly and with a touch too much open- his shield kept up more as an afterthought rather than around his main style. He is always on the lookout for ambushes and traps, and his tendency to go without sleep for long periods of time means that he is almost always found on watch.

History:

WIP

Skills and Abilities:

Geoffrey is an excellent fighter- capable with handaxe, mace and sword. Personally, he prefers a good shield and an axe, but he can also work with any number of polearms or makeshift weapons. He’s also incredibly durable, feeling the effects of hunger, and his wounds, less keenly than a lesser man does. Finally, Geoffry is a man without something to return to. His wife is dead, he sold his lands, and his title of knighthood rings hollow. Combat holds no fear for him.

Weakness(es):

Cannot have a proper night’s rest. Geoffrey suffers from serious PTSD and has vivid and horrific nightmares when he does sleep. Hates sleeping and prefers to go as long as possible without, relying on the adrenaline from combat to sustain him in a fight.

Equipment:

Geoffrey owns a full set of plate armour, including helm, as well as chainmail, a gambeson, and three surcoats. His armour is kept clean mostly thanks to his squire and liberal amounts of sand and vinegar- meaning that it is clean of rust, if slightly dinged and banged. One of these surcoats is his old crusading wear, one has his personal coat of arms, and the final one is the banner of the Band of Fools. Weapon wise, he has a longsword, greataxe, handaxe, flanged mace, flail mace, arming sword and a number of daggers. He obviously does not carry most of these into battle, instead choosing based upon his foes. He also owns a number of shields, although this is more to ensure he is never caught without should one be damaged.

Finally, and curiously, Geoffry does not ride a horse. Instead, he uses a mule to carry what he needs, and walks beside it. He has never revealed if this was personal preference, or something more.

The Band of Fools

I’d like to reserve a coporal or knight for my d00d. If we can make multiple characters, then I’ll take quatermaster too.

Dogs of the Faithful

'Course, it ain't a state right now. Tooele and Provo were founded 6 years ago, and the desert is parting way to the slow settlement by the Mormons. Missionaries are heading out to fields as far as Vegas, Elk Mountain and more, with the hopes of turning the mountain people into followers of the Almighty. Whilst all this is happening, the Dogs have arrived once more, patchwork cloaks and widebrimmed hats hiding weary eyes and nervous trigger fingers. For the dogs are not your average band of missionaries, no. They are the Hounds of God, and they haven't been leashed.

---

Three horses clopped gently along the hard packed road. Joseph White reached up and pulled his hat off of his head, brushing it off carefully. His ass was sore from riding for four days, they had run out of water the day before, and part of his cloak was beginning to fray. Luckily, they were in sight now of a friendly township, the three Dogs stopping perhaps half a mile away from it. There was a crack as one of the riders drew a pistol, a shot fired up into the air as greeting. After waiting for thirty seconds, the group continued on their way, the rider who had fired carefully reloading her weapon. "Mary, you remember what this town's called?" The third Dog turned to the one who had fired, who simply shook her head.

"I do believe it's named Little Canyon. 'Parrently some mountain folk used to live 'round these parts before these folk arrived here." Joseph turned and replied, before pulling back on his horse. "Woah, steady there. We've got a rider." In front of them, just as he had said, there was a faint black speck, riding towards them at a not-insignificant pace. "Meet him halfway?"

"Way he's ridin', I don't think we can make it halfway before he reaches us."

"Might as well make it close enough then." With that, there was a series of little nods, and the group set off, 'hiyah'ing their mounts. Despite the travels they had already made, there was no complaining over injuries. It was simply part of the job. The closer the two parties came, the more they realised the rider was perhaps younger than they had expected. When the two finally met, he gave a little shout, tipping his hat at the group. "Oh thank the Lord. Dogs! Pa said you'd be coming here soon- and good job too-"

Joseph held his hand up. "Fella, we've been riding for four days, and we haven't had a drink for a while. 'Course we'll help out you and your pa, but for now, a glass of root beer and a moment off the saddle would be much 'ppreciated." The other rider, a young man of perhaps fifteen, nodded. "My apologies. Welcome to Little Rock... Oh, and can you read me a Psalm? Preacher's the one that's been having the issues here.."

"No problem." Mary smiled a little, retreiving a pocket bible from within her cloak. "Romans, 12:17 Repay no one evil for evil, but give thought to do what is honorable in the sight of all. If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all. Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, “Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.” To the contrary, “if your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink; for by so doing you will heap burning coals on his head.” Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.""

So, if you sat through all of that, congratulations! You're probably somewhat curious about this little RP. Essentially, this is an RP loosely based off of the tabletop game Dogs in the Vineyard, in that it takes place in the same setting, using the same ideas. It is a not-quite-accurate story of the Dogs- Mormons who have eschewed life on the homestead for one on the range, riding from settlement to settlement in order to heal the sick, preach the word of God... And root out witches and show them a taste of the Old Testament. YOU DO NOT NEED TO BELIEVE IN THE CHURCH OF THE LATTER DAY SAINTS, CHRISTIANITY, OR ANY RELIGION TO TAKE PART IN THIS RP. All you really need is the Wikipedia page on Mormonism.

This will be a High-Casual RP. I expect people to have good spelling, grammar and punctuation, but I don't mind one-or-two-paragraph posts just to keep things ticking along. 18+ For the fact that we will end up in gunfights, and we aren't using neat guns here- Pre-Civil War guns like the Colt Dragoon were loud, noisy, and stuck something full of nasty, gaping holes. Plus, there will be occult influences.

The RP will be an investigative action one. Essentially, we will be riding from town to town, healing the sick, giving a few sermons if needed, but more importantly, rooting out disbelief and worse. Anyone interested?

Dogs of the Faithful

'Course, it ain't a state right now. Tooele and Provo were founded 6 years ago, and the desert is parting way to the slow settlement by the Mormons. Missionaries are heading out to fields as far as Vegas, Elk Mountain and more, with the hopes of turning the mountain people into followers of the Almighty. Whilst all this is happening, the Dogs have arrived once more, patchwork cloaks and widebrimmed hats hiding weary eyes and nervous trigger fingers. For the dogs are not your average band of missionaries, no. They are the Hounds of God, and they haven't been leashed.

---

Three horses clopped gently along the hard packed road. Joseph White reached up and pulled his hat off of his head, brushing it off carefully. His ass was sore from riding for four days, they had run out of water the day before, and part of his cloak was beginning to fray. Luckily, they were in sight now of a friendly township, the three Dogs stopping perhaps half a mile away from it. There was a crack as one of the riders drew a pistol, a shot fired up into the air as greeting. After waiting for thirty seconds, the group continued on their way, the rider who had fired carefully reloading her weapon. "Mary, you remember what this town's called?" The third Dog turned to the one who had fired, who simply shook her head.

"I do believe it's named Little Canyon. 'Parrently some mountain folk used to live 'round these parts before these folk arrived here." Joseph turned and replied, before pulling back on his horse. "Woah, steady there. We've got a rider." In front of them, just as he had said, there was a faint black speck, riding towards them at a not-insignificant pace. "Meet him halfway?"

"Way he's ridin', I don't think we can make it halfway before he reaches us."

"Might as well make it close enough then." With that, there was a series of little nods, and the group set off, 'hiyah'ing their mounts. Despite the travels they had already made, there was no complaining over injuries. It was simply part of the job. The closer the two parties came, the more they realised the rider was perhaps younger than they had expected. When the two finally met, he gave a little shout, tipping his hat at the group. "Oh thank the Lord. Dogs! Pa said you'd be coming here soon- and good job too-"

Joseph held his hand up. "Fella, we've been riding for four days, and we haven't had a drink for a while. 'Course we'll help out you and your pa, but for now, a glass of root beer and a moment off the saddle would be much 'ppreciated." The other rider, a young man of perhaps fifteen, nodded. "My apologies. Welcome to Little Rock... Oh, and can you read me a Psalm? Preacher's the one that's been having the issues here.."

"No problem." Mary smiled a little, retreiving a pocket bible from within her cloak. "Romans, 12:17 Repay no one evil for evil, but give thought to do what is honorable in the sight of all. If possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all. Beloved, never avenge yourselves, but leave it to the wrath of God, for it is written, “Vengeance is mine, I will repay, says the Lord.” To the contrary, “if your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink; for by so doing you will heap burning coals on his head.” Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.""

So, if you sat through all of that, congratulations! You're probably somewhat curious about this little RP. Essentially, this is an RP loosely based off of the tabletop game Dogs in the Vineyard, in that it takes place in the same setting, using the same ideas. It is a not-quite-accurate story of the Dogs- Mormons who have eschewed life on the homestead for one on the range, riding from settlement to settlement in order to heal the sick, preach the word of God... And root out witches and show them a taste of the Old Testament. YOU DO NOT NEED TO BELIEVE IN THE CHURCH OF THE LATTER DAY SAINTS, CHRISTIANITY, OR ANY RELIGION TO TAKE PART IN THIS RP. All you really need is the Wikipedia page on Mormonism.

This will be a High-Casual RP. I expect people to have good spelling, grammar and punctuation, but I don't mind one-or-two-paragraph posts just to keep things ticking along. 18+ For the fact that we will end up in gunfights, and we aren't using neat guns here- Pre-Civil War guns like the Colt Dragoon were loud, noisy, and stuck something full of nasty, gaping holes. Plus, there will be occult influences.

The RP will be an investigative action one. Essentially, we will be riding from town to town, healing the sick, giving a few sermons if needed, but more importantly, rooting out disbelief and worse. Anyone interested?

The Band of Fools - A Medieval Mercenary Company Roleplay

Probably going to play a returning crusader. He indebted himself whilst away, and returns to find his wife dead, and whilst the Church has looked after his holdings, he really has nothing to hold him back anymore. Probably has some decent armour and a blade, and the experience to use them, but is sort of depressed and certainly now in his early 30s, wondering what exactly he should be doing for his life.

Start your Engines!

Still looking.

Edge of the Empire

Still looking for people.