Epsir

Fire in the West (fantasy, freeroam)

The thread is now open and accepting bios.

http://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/26173/posts/ooc?page=1

Soul Eater - Welcome to the DWMA!

Gertrud glanced over at Simone as he wandered off after she introduced him, unsure whether or not to disapprove. He was talkative, at least around other people, and it was definitely best for him to get some breathing room. That is to say, distance from her. She immediately turned back to Lena, shrugging. There wasn't much she could say about her and Simone as partners. They'd been near each other since childhood and it only made sense that when they ended up at the DWMA they partnered, even if they only agreed a precious few things.
"Simone and I are old friends. We met before we even went to the DWMA." She glanced away, unsure of what to say about the Weapon, and moving forward in her answer.
"We've been here a while, though. If that makes us seniors then I suppose so, but I feel as though we've made little progress." It was infuriating to think of alone but admitting it to a once-stranger was like recounting an ancient rivalry, and Gertrud found herself smiling as she recalled all of the hiccups they had struggled past.
"If we can work together, I'm sure you'll find a meister good enough to handle you somewhere in this." Trude tried to sound reassuring but humanitarian work was far out of her skill set. In her peripheral vision, she noticed a man wearing a meister tag slowly approaching them, and she wondered briefly how long that had been going on outside of her notice. She did a quick check over her shoulder in the other direction to make sure there was no one behind them that he could have been looking for. There weren't many other reasons to be walking away from the group of potential partners.
"As a matter of fact, Lena," she said, eyes locking over to the newcomer, "We seem to have a meister in our midst." She gave a tiny nod towards the jacket clad meister, trying to show Lena who she was talking about.

Fire in the West (Freeroam)

The Mast was booming today, more than it usually was. Maybe people just needed a drink watching things go the way they were, Johnathon knew it certainly couldn't hurt much and it definitely lifted spirits. He passed through the rickety double doors into the building proper, at once swallowed in the dim fire light of the tavern, which sent jagged shadows flickering across the gnarled wooden surfaces of the building. Everything was so beat up it seemed to him an intentional gimmick of the bar to appear run down. In fact it had a more rugged demeanor, exuding a kind of resilience that reminded him of the kind of people that populated Aldrun and the surrounding area. Light could only creep into the building through two dusted windows at the front, the rest was kept in an utter haze by a few scant arrays of candles and a fire in the corner of the room. Next to it stood the old bar, he'd been told, rather the bartender bragged that it went all the way back to his great great, and so forth, grandfather. It looked ragged enough but something about the finish was off. Johnathon had looked over the details enough, he'd stitched all of them into a piece of cloth he'd bought a few days ago, a nice work in progress he returned to whenever he was waiting.

He didn't drink, not anything hard at least, and so sat nursing a wooden cup of water as sparingly as if it were a fine wine. He wasn't going to survive here much longer, not on his funding, and his usual lessons and such held no appeal to this new locale. He last of his money would have to go towards a way out. Every so often he reached out from where he sat to prop up a wooden plank laid against his rucksack on top of the table, making sure it was on clear display to anyone entering the bar. It read "$ Guide wanted. $" It had yet to drum up much interest, actually any at all, but the tidings of chance had held him through much worse. It may have been that he didn't look the part of a man seeking a guide who could actually pay for one, with his stitched up clothing and paupery look, but he certainly had a pouch of minted Arcarti coins stashed away for just such an occasion. He had to get over those mountains, but more importantly, he had to find someone who knew how to get over those mountains. There weren't many interested in much other than the news, and what news it was, but his search could not wait even for that.

Soul Eater - Welcome to the DWMA!

Gertrud ignored the remarks from Simone, flinching only slightly as he tore the weapon tag from himself. She refrained from going into verbal sparring with her weapon, it was a waste of words was what she would say publicly, but he also had the better wit for retorts. He had pointed out a girl somewhere in the crowd, which she strained to see among the sea of faces. Weapons and meisters were an incredibly colorful bunch but throw a clown in a circus and they suddenly became hard to pick out. As it turned out she wasn't going to find who she was looking for. A blue haired woman stepped into her field of view, looking a shade discontented. Already? Gertrud thought, mentally bracing for the worst. Who had she crossed and how had she forgotten them? A surprising turn, her case was recent. A reminder to Trude to speak even less in public. The blue girl explained her case, Trude nodded solemnly as she did so, noting her points. She disliked arguments but felt she at least owed an explanation to the newly introduced Lena, again, not that she had anywhere else to be.
"I can't deny the importance of building the relationship between weapon and meister," She said, crossing her arms. "But then what is the rest of orientation day for? Keeping us all from work out here in the heat is a waste of all our time."
Trude sighed and looked down. It was definitely the heat causing this, great adversary that it was. She extended a hand to Lena, offering a handshake for a greeting even if it was a little old fashioned. It was also a bit of an apology, or felt like it.
"My complaining isn't changing anything anyway. Pleased to meet you Lena, I'm Gertrud Linysova, and this is Simone Mustang." She motioned to the boy standing apart from her, and resisted the urge to commentate lest the morning descend into more lively debate between her and her weapon. "Have you had any luck finding a meister yet?" Trude asked, looking back to the crowd. "The new faces seem especially lively this year." She hung on the word lively with something almost resembling distaste. It was a synonym for raucous in her dictionary.

Soul Eater - Welcome to the DWMA!

It almost hadn't been worth it to get them both here on time. Gertrud frowned at the courtyard turf, her brow wrinkling in distress. They should have just been permitted to go to class. How many years had they been a team? She looked over the crowd, watching the spectacle with a steady glare. She was happy for them, really, but just waiting as the fresh meat milled around was almost too much. Her and Simone were apart from the group, signifying that they had already formed a team, which was fine by Gertrud because she wasn't missing any of the fun those finding their partner were having. Having an old friend to rely on was more than enough, even if working together was a consistently hellish experience. With a continued glower she adjusted the tag reading "MEISTER" slapped across the front of her shirt, it had caught a fold underneath.
"They know all about us," she said, speaking up and looking to Simone. "The academy, I mean. Shouldn't they sort this out beforehand?" It was said every year by an increasingly exasperated Gertrud. A tiny voice reminded her that she wasn't even missing anything, and she reminded herself that she was supposed to be composed. Seeking a distraction, she looked over the bag laying at her feet once more, ensuring that it contained her suit, just in case, and proper stationery for academic work. Was it the sun or just nerves? The fidgeting was too tense, even for Trude. "How about you, Simone? You're absolutely sure you have everything?" Her head poked up from the duffel bag, casting an interrogating look at the Weapon.

Soul Eater - Welcome to the DWMA!

Awesome, glad to hear and thanks. I look forward to getting started.

Soul Eater - Welcome to the DWMA!

Name: Gertrud Linysova
Age: 18
Gender: Female
Species: Meister

Appearance: Gertrud is a tall woman, standing 5'11, with her spindly, ominous figure accentuating that height. She is built thin, and appears far more fragile than one would expect a meister to be. Her face is sharply cut, with angular, serious looking features that make her look perpetually upset. Her eyes are deep set and shadowed, but are a light shade of hazel bordering on yellow that lend them a kind of energy. Her hair is black, and drapes over her shoulders and neck in curls. She habitually maintains that unruly mop of hair but it can easily get the better of even her meticulous attitude. She dresses plainly when casual, in neutral colored trousers and white collared shirts of varying sleeve length. In dress or on duty as a student of the DWMA she wears a black three piece suit, with one of her collared shirts serving as a shirt. The pants are front pleated, always crisply maintained and precisely tailored; they are never seen with a scratch and she gets upset when they are damaged. Likewise for her suit jacket, always cleanly pressed and held exactly at her wrists. Its only adornment are two well polished round-top silver pins on the cuffs. While typically she does not wear a tie, when suited she chooses from a selection of bright blue ties to wear, held to the front of her shirt with a silver bar pin. Whether in casual dress or suit, she wears a pair of white sneakers that she has kept for several years in nearly new condition.

Biography: Trude grew up in a well off neighborhood with a normal life, keeping her nose out of any improper shenanigans and making a good name for herself. Nothing ever felt quite complete though, life was unsatisfying. She was offered a chance to make something different of life at the DWMA, and happily accepted after showing aptitude as a meister. She enjoys her tenure as a student, although there is that nagging urge that perhaps something isn't what it's meant to be in her life. To combat it, she pours herself onto her occupation, focusing everything into efficiency and proper execution.

Personality: Gertrud is meticulous and exacting, a true perfectionist at work. She is not idealistic though, and is a true pragmatist. Rather than an outcome perfect for her she searches for the most reasonable answer to a problem. Her straight laced attitude sets her in conflict with many partners and fellow students, which she resents but sees as a necessary sacrifice for doing the 'right thing.' She always has her eye on the bottom line, and serves as the voice of reason in her partnership with Simone, an unruly man at the center of all she despises. She talks no more than she has to and is often seen thinking things out rather than acting; a tendency which can cause her to hesitate or miss chances in the life of a DWMA student.

Likes: Reading, Electro-folk and orchestral music, organizing things, order
Dislikes: Waiting, Small talk, Not planning things ahead of time and particularly people who refuse to.

EDIT:
For clarity, I'm who Sightles mentioned and Gertrude and Simone come as a team

Fire in the West (Freeroam)

Accepted, SIghtles. Welcome aboard. I hope we can wait for a few more bios to roll in before really kicking off, but if you want to make an introductory post in the IC go ahead.

Fire in the West (Freeroam)

This thread will always be open for new characters. If you want to join and can't think of a way to work your character into wherever the story currently is then PM me or hit me up in the OOC and we'll talk it out.

Fire in the West

The quaint coastal town of Aldrun sat at a border. To the north were the untamed frontierlands. A place full of merchants and nomads that stretched into tundras and badlands until finally the land gave in to icy northern coasts. Aldrun was as far north as most civilized folk cared to travel, and sat at the cusp of where broken ice sheets would float down and threaten the merchant marine. Further, and to the south where the land grew thinner and formed the triangular shape the Estovetian continent was known by, the heart of the kingdom of Arcartus. Its capital, Lieda, isolated amidst mountains and marshlands crammed uncomfortably against the eastern coast. The Arcarti Empire's reach was legendary, it encompassed nearly the entire eastern half of the continent and stood as the largest political presence on Estovet. Common to both directions was a line of snow-capped mountains separating Aldrun from the outside world, a peace it had enjoyed for centuries since its beginning as a warm water port. Once, it had only been used as a rendezvous by northern traders. It bustled now, as more and more northern societies integrated with the countries. The valley it had previously only occupied was now packed full of rugged wooden houses crowned with high roofs. The pier that had once been a few wooden planks had had a harbor dug for it, with a proper dock built by the wealth of the merchants dependent on it. Still true to the old days was the town square, a large circular clearing marking the transition from the port to the residential district. It was made of unpaved ground, where merchants set up their stalls. The port district was more modern, with newer plank buildings populated seemingly only by bars and taverns in competition with one another for who could be the seediest or the gaudiest among them. They all swam equally in sailor's wages, and echoed with dubious tales of adventure or unexplainable happenings in the heartlands. They also brought the news from the outside world, and every so often fanciful accounts of the other continents. Today, the news was told in hushed tones and passed along on pamphlets in almost fearful quietness. The western side of Estovet had traditionally been a collection of tiny, independent states. A sea of flags where the rise and fall of several countries could go nearly unnoticed, and a place that could not oppose the spread of the Arcarti empire. The primary check to the empire's size had been the southwest, with its collection of trade states that could impose leverages outside the scope of Arcartus' military dominance. The empire had long ago stopped being a serious threat to the sovereignty of the western nations, it struggled to hold its lands together under the immense cultural strain of the hundreds of peoples contained within its borders, and all of their different issues and demands. Several of those struggles had turned bloody, with Arcarti soldiers used to restrain the heaving mass of nations called an empire. Others had gone unpunished, as there simply weren't enough troops to deal with them all. With the country at its weakest, several of those dissenting locales had finally taken their chance and seceded, sometimes with military force, all in the past few days. The reason was that they finally had somewhere else to go. The pamphlets and sailors all told of the 'League', more formally the League of the Edict of Tovasel, a military alliance among many of the western countries built around an edict from the founding state's consulate. It declared a policy of armed opposition against Arcarti expansion, and amnesty for those fleeing from the country. Several of the towns nearest Aldrun had already declared independence, and there was talk of the Arcarti military beginning to move, bearing pike and bow to hold down their claim to the land. At a cheap tavern right off the pier, tastefully called the Sailor's Mast by its owners and home by some of its patrons, the talk was much the same. Hushed tones spoke of both revolution and loyalty, as they would in many taverns and cities for weeks to come. Travelers sat around tables, pointing out places on maps and discussing where best to ride out the storm, or where best to find outposts that will soon be abandoned. Mercenaries began to populate the area, every now and then a man with a sword at his side would sit down and order a drink, checking with the tavern owner if there were any wealthy clients fleeing the area that required protection. The ancient wooden bar was packed with people seeking reliable news or just employment for the day. Whether the talk was about work or play, one topic always crept back in, silencing the group. What would they do? For the locals it was a question of their identity, for the merchants it was a question of trade rights and profit margins. For the travelers and the adventurers, it was both an opportunity and a risk. A chance to change the world, or simply profit from the struggles to come. The unsettled reaches of the far north, the mystery-shrouded heartlands, the plains of the west and the mountains of the east would all face a plunge into chaos should the tensions between the League and Arcartus escalate to full scale warfare. There were places to run from the battle, but even countries remaining neutral would no doubt feel the strain of the two largest parts of the continent going against one another. With many prospects and possibilities before them, every band of adventurers would end up somewhere different, but for just a moment they all had the same decision to make. Thread Rules: 1: General roleplay etiquette, this is important. No godmodding, autokill/hit, etc. A sense of tact goes a long way. 2: Actions have consequences. There won't be any falling rocks here, but given the freeform nature of the roleplay, characters can end up in some dangerous situations. 3: Tell me if you don't plan on posting again or are leaving. There are no hard feelings here. Don't get me wrong I love activity as much as the next TM but real life happens. The one thing I need to know, though, is if I have to write some players out of being frozen. Bio Format (alter as needed): Name: Age: Gender: Race: Appearance: Clothing: Weapons: Personality: History: Character List: Name / Page / Owner Soah Lander / 1 / Sightles Crom Vastil / 1 / DrowsyPangolin Griff Caden / 1 / Namelessjake Adrian Brady / 1 / MicahTheRogue Sinette Daunte / 1 / Chazbarry Milo Ranier / 2 / Sightles Alec Cross / 2 / DrowsyPangolin

Fire in the West (fantasy, freeroam)

Hello RPG, today I'm here to pitch a thread to you. The thread takes place in a high fantasy setting, although I would definitely classify it as low magic and with a definite trend towards being more mundane, if only to let the fantastic elements really stand out when they emerge. It's focused around the continent of Estovet, a roughly triangular landmass with its base reaching into the north pole and its tip sitting out in the ocean, and roughly halfway full of micronations, with the imposing Arcarti empire taking up the east and a few larger-than-average states in the south. That, for the most part, is the playground for the player party(ies). I want to create a freeroam-y fantasy RP where the players are largely in charge of what they do or where they go, although there is definitely a plot to get involved in, or at least one that will shape the world the players explore, whether they get caught up in political intrigue or robbing peasants all day. For that reason, and also to afford creative freedom to the players, a lot of the outside world and many of the tiny nations on Estovet are left uncharacterized in the beginning. So if you want to be from something you flesh out yourself feel free but keep the setting that already exists in mind. I see some content warnings in IntCheck sometimes so I might as well say this thread can and most likely will contain some mature elements. You're on the internet. The OOC is ready to go and I'll be posting it tomorrow (April 14th) or the day after. There is some supplementary information on the different blocs, which will go in the OOC or here if you really want it, but for now here's an intro. Of course, it starts in a tavern.

The quaint coastal town of Aldrun sat at a border. To the north were the untamed frontier lands. A place full of merchants and nomads that stretched into tundras and badlands until finally the land gave in to icy northern coasts. Aldrun was as far north as most civilized folk cared to travel, and sat at the cusp of where broken ice sheets would float down and threaten the merchant marine. Further, and to the south where the land grew thinner and formed the triangular shape the Estovetian continent was known by, the heart of the kingdom of Arcartus. Its capital, Lieda, isolated amidst mountains and marshlands crammed uncomfortably against the eastern coast. The Arcarti Empire's reach was legendary, it encompassed nearly the entire eastern half of the continent and stood as the largest political presence on Estovet. Common to both directions was a line of snow-capped mountains separating Aldrun from the outside world, a peace it had enjoyed for centuries since its beginning as a warm water port. Once, it had only been used as a rendezvous by northern traders. It bustled now, as more and more northern societies integrated with the countries. The valley it had previously only occupied was now packed full of rugged wooden houses crowned with high roofs. The pier that had once been a few wooden planks had had a harbor dug for it, with a proper dock built by the wealth of the merchants dependent on it. Still true to the old days was the town square, a large circular clearing marking the transition from the port to the residential district. It was made of unpaved ground, where merchants set up their stalls. The port district was more modern, with newer plank buildings populated seemingly only by bars and taverns in competition with one another for who could be the seediest or the gaudiest among them. They all swam equally in sailor's wages, and echoed with dubious tales of adventure or unexplainable happenings in the heartlands. They also brought the news from the outside world, and every so often fanciful accounts of the other continents. Today, the news was told in hushed tones and passed along on pamphlets in almost fearful quietness. The western side of Estovet had traditionally been a collection of tiny, independent states. A sea of flags where the rise and fall of several countries could go nearly unnoticed, and a place that could not oppose the spread of the Arcarti empire. The primary check to the empire's size had been the southwest, with its collection of trade states that could impose leverages outside the scope of Arcartus' military dominance. The empire had long ago stopped being a serious threat to the sovereignty of the western nations, it struggled to hold its lands together under the immense cultural strain of the hundreds of peoples contained within its borders, and all of their different issues and demands. Several of those struggles had turned bloody, with Arcarti soldiers used to restrain the heaving mass of nations called an empire. Others had gone unpunished, as there simply weren't enough troops to deal with them all. With the country at its weakest, several of those dissenting locales had finally taken their chance and seceded, sometimes with military force, all in the past few days. The reason was that they finally had somewhere else to go. The pamphlets and sailors all told of the 'League', more formally the League of the Edict of Tovasel, a military alliance among many of the western countries built around an edict from the founding state's consulate. It declared a policy of armed opposition against Arcarti expansion, and amnesty for those fleeing from the country. Several of the towns nearest Aldrun had already declared independence, and there was talk of the Arcarti military beginning to move, bearing pike and bow to hold down their claim to the land.

At a cheap tavern right off the pier, tastefully called the Sailor's Mast by its owners and home by some of its patrons, the talk was much the same. Hushed tones spoke of both revolution and loyalty, as they would in many taverns and cities for weeks to come. Travelers sat around tables, pointing out places on maps and discussing where best to ride out the storm, or where best to raid outposts that will soon be abandoned. Mercenaries began to populate the area, every now and then a man with a sword at his side would sit down and order a drink, checking with the tavern owner if there were any wealthy clients fleeing the area that required protection. The ancient wooden bar was packed with people seeking reliable news or just employment for the day. Whether the talk was about work or play, one topic always crept back in, silencing the group. What would they do? For the locals it was a question of their identity, for the merchants it was a question of trade rights and profit margins. For the travelers and the adventurers, it was both an opportunity and a risk. A chance to change the world, or profit greatly from it, at the cost of involvement in the conflict should it come. The unsettled reaches of the far north, the mystery and forest shrouded heartlands, the plains of the west and the mountains of the east would all face a plunge into chaos should the tensions between the League and Arcartus escalate to full scale warfare. There were places to run from the battle, but even countries remaining neutral would no doubt feel the strain of the two largest parts of the continent going against one another. With many prospects and possibilities before them, every band of adventurers would end up somewhere different, but for just a moment they all had the same decision to make.

If you want to voice an interest, draft a character, ask me questions all that stuff feel free.

Bio Format: ( not a required format, but the one I find myself using the most )
Name:
Age:
Gender:
Race:
Appearance:
Clothing:
Weapons:( or other belongings )
Personality:
History: